Matou Shinji and the Heirs of Slytherin

A Harry Potter / Fate Stay Night Story

Disclaimer: Though I wish it were otherwise, I do not own or in any way, shape or form hold a legal or moral claim to elements of either the Nasuverse, the Potterverse, or other works I may reference in the course of this story.

Summary: Trouble is brewing in the Wizarding World. In the wake of the Stone Incident, Albus Dumbledore has begun quietly preparing Britain to survive the coming war. The Stone Cutters, a new organization at Hogwarts for the most talented and distinguished of students, seek new blood to bolster its strength. The Boy-Who-Lived seeks his destiny as the Heir of Slytherin. And a boy from the east meets a specter of the past.

Chapter 23. Das Rheingold

Christmas Eve was usually a dreary day for Tohsaka Rin, given that as an orphan and a magus-in-training, she had no family or friends who would come to visit during the holiday season. By now, she didn't mind so much, since she'd gotten used to being lonely, but what she did mind was being forced to celebrate Mass three times on that day by her guardian, the priest named Kotomine Kirei.

Midnight Mass – the "Mass of the Angels."

Dawn Mass – called the "Shepherd's Mass."

Day Mass – the "Mass of the Divine Word."

While she herself was not a Catholic, her objection to this requirement was not on religious grounds, given that her family had once had close relations to the Church, and as a magus, she could appreciate the ceremony of the three services – each of which had their own readings and chants. It was the fact that with each mass, Kotomine Kirei would deliver a soul-crushing homily.

Once he had talked about the fire of Fuyuki as a reminder that the world would one day end – that as was said in 2 Peter 3:10, "The heavens will disappear with a roar; the elements will be destroyed by fire, and the earth and everything in it will be laid bare."

Once he had talked about sin, how everyone in the room was guilty of sinning, and how the wages of sin - especially without repentance – were death.

Once he had talked of mortal sins, and how so many pursued financial and familial stability in the earthly realm at the cost of the eternal, lying to themselves and all those around them about who they were, what they were, and so forth.

And so it went, with Rin often thinking that Kotomine formulated his homilies to heighten the suffering of his parishioners, to make them worry on a day that should be special – especially as he knew how many young people would engage in things such as premarital sex (and worse, use contraception!) on such a day – a mortal sin for which they would burn in everlasting hellfire.

Frankly, she dealt with more than enough pain on a daily basis as a practicing magus, given the exquisite agony of active circuits, without adding interactions with her late father's apprentice to the mix. To be honest, she'd never trusted Kotomine, especially when the Fourth War ended with her father dead, her mother comatose, and the priest still healthy and hale, the sole survivor of the mess.

Or, at least, the only one who had stayed in Fuyuki City, with the rest either returning to the Tower or dead, leaving her to more or less fend for herself while he dealt with the Tohsaka fortune and properties, and managed the family affairs.

To be honest, she'd come to resent him – to blame him for everything that had happened, no matter how unjustly, though she was still reliant on him for a living allowance.

…or at least she had been until Matou Shinji had given her a chest containing gemstones worth billions of yen, effectively granting her a degree of financial independence. And that wasn't even taking into account the wyvern skeleton still sitting in her basement, a thing of wonder which would no doubt fetch a high price at the Tower – in the event she found a buyer. However, since she was not used to dealing with such things, and did not want to ask the fake priest about finding a broker, the skeleton simply sat there.

Which made her wonder just what Matou Shinji had gone through, why he was…well, courting her, and how he had come to gain enough wealth that what he'd given her could be considered a humble token of appreciation (for she was not fool enough to think that the boy would give her a large portion of his treasure – whatever else Matou Shinji might be, he, too, had been raised in an ancient family of magi).

Even if he was now apparently part of a chivalric order, having accomplished feats that left her feeling frustrated and more than a little envious. Surely, he had no interest in her now that he had left the place the Association deemed a backwater, and had only given such things out of obligat-

Ding-dong!

Rin started with a shock, interrupted from her thoughts by the sound of the doorbell. She wasn't expecting any visitors, after all, not on the first day of the winter holidays. There was no one who normally came by – even the priest didn't, preferring to use the impersonal medium of the telephone to summon her to the church when there was something urgent to discuss. The only surprise she'd ever had was last year, when…

…the gifts from Matou Shinji had mysteriously appeared on her doorstep.

She swallowed, looking at the door as if it had suddenly become a gateway to Akasha, a place with all the knowledge in the world – the swirl of origin from which none might return. A place where the answers she sought could be found – but from which where was no going back. If she opened the door, she would know, one way or another, what Matou intended this year.

That is, whether his present last year had only been out of obligation, or whether there was something more he wanted.

And no one could tell her what to do, could offer advice on the matter. There was no time, and even if there had been, there was no one she trusted to have her best interests at heart. It struck her then that this was the first big decision she had ever had to make on her own, that since her father's death, most of her decisions had not been her own, with her daily routine prescribed to her either by her school, her late father's instructions, or by the priest that was her guardian.

What do I do?

But this too was predetermined in its own way, for as a magus,she prized knowledge over all else and in this case, had to know why he was doing this.

So as twilight fell, she opened the door.

In the days after the funeral of Emiya Kiritsugu, Matou Shinji had not lain idle at home. Indeed, that was quite possible the last thing he would have chosen to do, given that he didn't exactly get along with the members of his family, and Emiya's words – which had echoed the fox familiar's warning – had left him with some measure of unease on how deeply involved Kotomine Kirei was with the Tohsaka family, and what that meant.

He would have returned to Mahoutokoro to give his report to Kaiduka, as well as shop for presents for most of his friends in Britain, but it occurred to him that the days around Christmas, while the priest would be otherwise preoccupied, were his best chance to find out if something was going on from Tohsaka herself.

After all, as someone who lived alone in the house on the hill and had few – if any – friends, Tohsaka Rin was easy enough to understand. She was what he would have become had he stayed in Fuyuki, a person who didn't understand others, who thought magecraft was everything – and who was naïve to the other arts and mysteries of the world.

Going to Hogwarts, meeting Sokaris, facing enemies on the battlefields of war and politics – these things had broadened his horizons, exposed him to new ways of thinking and forced him to consider what it meant to be powerful.

He understood now how important it was to know what kind of situations were developing under his nose, since force alone could only do so much.

And so, after leaving presents for his family – well, to his sister and grandfather, as he didn't consider Byakuya Matou to be any relative of his, he had gone to do just that. Byakuya did not deserve to be called father, as the wretch had lied to him for his entire life, kept secrets from him, let him believe he could be the heir, only to be training the adopted Tohsaka girl to replace him the entire time. The least that the man who had contributed part of his genetic code could have done was be honest instead of letting him believe a lie.

…instead of letting him memorize all of the Matou family's grimoires and references in his bid to become a magus by effort alone.

If he hadn't received that letter from Hogwarts a year and a half ago…well, he didn't want to think about it. Deluded by the lie he'd lived, without the ability to change his course or pursue something else, Matou Shinji thought he might have gone mad.

Might have become something like a monster.

Not an inhuman monster like his grandfather, terrible in his powerful, merciless in his wrath, and utter alien in his motives, but a human monster, all the more cruel and vicious for his powerlessness.

Thankfully that was a route he would not have to travel, and so he had walked up the hill to Tohsaka's house, his lips curving into a smirk as he noticed a large box on her doorstep – one with a FedEx Japan shipping logo on it, with himself as the sender.

'Ah, the gift arrived – perfect timing.'

Armed with the cheery thought of how the girl would react to this year's present, to say nothing of his presence, the boy rang the doorbell – and was not disappointed.

Tohsaka Rin could barely keep her mouth from falling open in shock at the sight of Matou Shinji standing on her doorstep, next to a large package much like the ones from the year before.

What did it mean that he was here on Christmas Eve – back from Britain to see her? Was he truly courting her after all, then, what with the expensive presents and the inconvenience of travel? Even if she didn't subscribe to some of the conventional Japanese mores and customs about the Christmas season, given that her guardian was a priest (and who had made sure she knew the religious significance of the holiday, such that unlike other girls her age, she didn't think of churches as romantic places, quiet intimate settings with candlelight and stained-glass windows), she knew that Christmas Eve in Japan was a day for lovers and romance.

Even more so than Valentine's Day, really.

"Merry Christmas, Tohsaka," the boy greeted, stepping forward and extending his hand to take hers, with Rin stiffening at his touch – and all but freezing he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it gently in the way of a proper gentleman.

"M-merry Christmas, M-matou," she stammered, flushing a bright pink as she pulled her hand back as if burned. "Wh-what brings you back to Japan?"

"Why, the pleasure of your company, of course," Shinji replied, the easy smile on his face both disarming and terrifying to the young magus. "More specifically, a present. And an invitation, if you enjoy the gift."

He gestured to the box next to him.

"Open it."

Trembling, the girl did as Shinji asked, her eyes widening in shock as the lid slid off, revealing the crystal and silver chandelier that the Matou scion had appropriated from the Room of Hidden Things. In the darkness of the well-padded container, each of the crystals gleamed with a powerful inner fire, hypnotic and beautiful, as it drew mana from the air.

…this is…

Rin swallowed, trying – and not succeeding very well – to keep her thoughts from her face. Did Shinji know what her family's magecraft entailed? Was that why he had given her wealth in the form of jewels that first Christmas, and now this gift…?

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Shinji asked.

Rin could only nod.

"It is," she whispered. "How did you—" '–know?'

'How I found it…' "…that's a secret," the Matou scion replied with an enigmatic smile. "But there it is, a present. As for the invitation, would you like to spend Christmas Eve with me?"

Tohsaka Rin had thought Shinji might ask that, and wasn't sure how to reply. She'd never really gone on a date before – didn't know the first thing about courting or being courted, in fact. Still, it was…nice…that he was asking her to join him, even if he'd never confessed or anything of the sort.

'…it's just…practice, right?'

"Ok," she said, before remembering that on such an outing, she should dress up so she didn't dishonor the image of the Tohsaka house. "Um…I need to change first."

"That's fine," Shinji answered, tilting his head. "I'll move this inside for you. While I wait – would you mind if I borrowed your familiar to send a message?"

'Borrow my familiar to…?'

The thought bothered her, but she really had no reason to refuse, given that she doubted he would do anything too bothersome with the clockwork owl – and as she had little enough use for it, she had simply let it perch on a stand by the door.

"As you wish, Matou," she replied, issuing the owl a mental command to do what the boy said, before dashing up the stairs and out of sight.

"Splendid," Shinji said, withdrawing a letter from his jacket and tying it to one of the owl's legs. "Deliver this to Kaiduka Shiosai at Mahoutokoro and return immediately thereafter. Disable sensory link for the duration."

It hooted once in confirmation, and once more when the missive was secured, before blurring as it took flight, speeding through the sky toward Kyoto – and the City Beneath the Earth.

…he rather thought that Kaiduka Shiosai would appreciate a report of his encounter with Emiya Shirou, after all, so even if he could not tell the kitsune what he'd learned in person, he might as well send a note. It wasn't a good idea to get on the bad side of a powerful member of a phantasmal race known for mischief – especially when aside from his own power, the kitsune was also the familiar of the Maiden of the Tree, the one entrusted with keeping the bounds and ways of the city.

In essence, each Maiden laid claim to Mahoutokoro as her territory, and so could control the portal systems, the bounded fields, and all the other ancient defenses that had been set up aeons ago and had only grown more powerful with age, like those of the moving mountain.

The fact that the current Maiden was willing to teach him personally – even if she didn't do much teaching in person, and left it to her familiar - was nothing short of staggering.

After some time, Rin finally changed and came down the stairs, dressed in a gown made from layers of tulle and chiffon red and black, one that was quite flattering to the young girl – and quite fancy, as was the red coat she wore over it. Quite honestly, she'd never had a chance to wear either garment before, given how Kotomine had insisted on the importance of austerity, and had found the chance to flout the priest's directives to be quite thrilling.

Shinji had complimented her, praising the way the gown looked on her – something which embarrassed her quite a bit, given that most boys didn't dare to approach her, and those who did tended to be rude, clumsy and boorish. He'd even taken her arm and escorted her properly to the bus stop so they could go downtown.

Once they stepped off though, since the streets further ahead were closed, Rin froze in wonder at the way the streets of Fuyuki were lit up in a spectacular arrangement of lights, with thousands of tiny bulbs arranged on frames, on buildings, and on trees to form tunnels of light, glittering towers and cathedral like creations that dazzled the senses.

Soft music played, and smells of food and drink – like at any festival – filled the air, with hundreds of young couples walking around the downtown district.

This display had not been here the previous year. The heiress of the Tohsaka family knew that much, as she'd passed by the area on the way to Kirei's church for mass in years past. So why now?

"What is…?"

"The Fuyuki Luminarie," Shinji said quietly. "A display conceived as a commemoration for the victims of the Fuyuki Fire. I think it was designed by someone from Italy." He sighed, shaking his head, remembering his conversation with the one survivor of the fire quite well. "It's supposed to be a way to provide cheer and showcase how well the city has recovered."

Rin stiffened.

"…recovered? But the park…"

"I know," Shinji said.

He'd walked through the park several times in the last few days – all that remained of the place that had once been devastated by the fire. It had been chilling in a way, as while there were no physical traces of the destruction, the land itself seemed to have been stained with fear and loss, with his core almost screaming from the amount of wrongness he felt there. Something had happened there – something that wasn't natural.

"Kirei…the priest…said it happened at the end of the Fourth," Rin said, looking down at her feet. "That someone unworthy made a wish, and it was the result."

So many lives, lost. So many families torn asunder. So many people who had simply disappeared, never to be heard from again.

Now, only a few years later, life went on.

And instead of people being sad and mourning loss, they celebrated, with the atmosphere light and festive, the glittering lights, soft music and snowfall making it almost romantic, as if the city had not been scarred.

"Shall we go around?" Shinji asked, looking at his companion. "We may as well enjoy the night while we're here, instead of thinking of what happened years ago. What happened can't be changed. We can only enjoy what time we have."

"Y-yes," Rin agreed, her hand slipping from Shinji's elbow to his hand.

Shinji looked at her questioningly, but Tohsaka just flushed and looked away.

"D-don't get the wrong idea, Matou," she got out, her face not quite as red as her dress. "I-it will just be easier to walk around like this with so many people around."

The young Matou boy couldn't help but smile at this, as he squeezed her hand and led her deeper into the heart of the city, the both of them wandering the festival of light together.

There were some traces of what the event was in memory of: here and there were the names of those who had been killed, with trees set aside for prayers or messages to be hung; there were some donation boxes around the bright structures; and there were lanterns made from the drawings of children, symbolizing new hope even amidst loss.

And yet on the whole, people seemed to have forgotten, with the most common sight being couples walking together hand in hand, sometimes even kissing in public.

Needless to say, the two young members of the moonlit world wandering about that night did not know of such things as they walked about, sharing the moment. Now and then they'd snack on things like chicken karaage deep-fried to perfection in the great woks of street-vendors, goma dango – dumplings of rice flour coated in a sesame sauce, red bean paste filled taiyaki cooked to golden brown perfection, or indulge in a cup of hot chocolate.

They talked on many things, quietly enough that no one else might hear.

Shinji spoke of life in Britain and how different Fuyuki was.

Rin complained of her guardian and how he would make her attend mass even though she did not believe.

And she wondered…if her…sister was happy – to which Shinji could only say yes. He admitted that he was not often around, given his duties elsewhere, but to be a talented magus and family heiress - was that not happiness? It had been what he'd dreamed of for many years after all…

He was surprised to learn that such did not guarantee happiness – that even Tohsaka Rin, the Second Owner of Fuyuki, was not truly happy with her life. But then, it seemed that she did not have much in the way of control – that she was as powerless politically as he used to be in the ways of thaumaturgy.

That struck Shinji as odd, and so he did not ask some of the things he had considered if she was more confident – more independent of the priest.

For it seemed the fox was right – that the Tohsaka family had become subservient to the Church, if it had not always been.

That night, they went to a new café in the city – one that Shinji had managed to reserve a seat at thanks only to a last-second cancellation, as it was surprisingly popular. It was called the Colonel's Café, and was apparently an offshoot of the wildly successful Kentucky Fried Chicken, though fortunately, most who wanted a taste of the 11 herbs and spices of the Colonel's Original Recipe bought buckets of chicken to go from one of the other retail locations.

It looked different from most of the others, with the iconic red panels jettisoned for plants, snazzy flooring, and wooden tables, with the waiters each impeccably dressed in uniforms modeled after Harland Sanders' signature white suit and long black ribbon tie ensemble.

(The man was something of a cultural icon in Japan – and almost every child knew his name, thanks to the effectiveness of KFC Japan's marketing. Certainly they knew of him in Fuyuki, given superstitions about how the Hanshin Tigers had suffered the Curse of the Colonel after reveling fans – excited that the Tigers had won the Japan Championship Series - took hold of one of Osaka's KFC Colonel Sanders Statues and had dumped it in the Dontonbori River. For nearly decades afterwards, the Tigers would be destined to have one of the worst records in the entire league…).

"So…do Westerners really eat chicken on Christmas?" Rin wondered, once they were seated.

"Yes and no," Shinji answered.

"Oh?"

"Well, they seem to like turkey or goose," the boy explained, frowning slightly as he remembered the incredibly rich Christmas feast at Hogwarts. "And their chicken isn't fried – its roasted."

"Ah. Then…it's just America?"

"Maybe," Shinji said with a shrug. "I've never been to America."

"Mm," was all Rin had to say as they ordered the Christmas Special, and food began to appear on the table.

As an appetizer there was a mini-Christmas tree fashioned from potato salad, with sprigs of broccoli, stars of carrot adorning the outside of the structure, the look of which had Rin's face scrunching up in confusion.

"…what is this?"

"…I don't know. I never had this as a child," Shinji admitted. And he hadn't – he had only had the prepackaged Christmas buckets served by KFC, not the more posh selection served at the spinoff café.

Still, it wasn't bad, just a little odd.

The entrée was a little off as well, featuring a reimagining of the classic fried-chicken and waffles which upped the ante by using tempura-battered foie gras in place of chicken breast, fried to a light golden brown, served over a savory-sweet waffle with bacon and black truffle crumbles. And topping the ensemble were halved apricots roasted in brown sugar, brandy, and white wine until just soft, with a drizzle of apricot-brandy caramel and maple syrup providing just a dash of sweetness for balance.

…the result was something one would never expect from a KFC in the west.

Tohsaka closed her eyes as she tasted the dish, a moan of pleasure escaping her lips before she could stifle it.

"First time?" Shinji asked curiously. The food was quite good, but then the House Elves of Hogwarts did just as well.

Rin looked down at her food, her face crimson with embarrassment.

"Yes," she said softly. "Sorry."

"Don't be. Even you should do what feels right sometimes," Shinji replied with a charming smile. "Not just what others tell you to."

That…was something no one had ever told her before.

"But…"

'…father entrusted me and the Tohsaka fortune to the fake priest…' she was going to say, but now she had the wealth Shinji had given her – and was now in his debt instead of Kotomine's. Greatly in his debt – and frustratingly, she couldn't decide how that made her feel.

"Besides, you look cute when you're blushing."

Rin felt as if she could sink into her seat in embarrassment, her face was burning so as she didn't reply. She just ate in silence, refusing to meet Shinji's eye until the dishes were cleared and the Christmas cake brought to the table.

It was a cute affair that looked like any other cake crowned with strawberries and a marzipan Santa, but as she cut into it at Shinji's behest, she noticed that it felt just a bit too firm for whipped cream.

As she cut deeper, she frowned – this didn't feel like a sponge cake, and the color was off – it had a brown hue, instead of being a pure white.

And the smell…

"…this is chicken?"

Indeed, it was a cake made of mashed potatoes and tsukune, the ground chicken that one usually found wrapped around skewers, grilled, and slathered in sauce at yakitori restaurants – not the cream and sponge that made up traditional Christmas cakes – with cayenne pepper, if one needed a hint of heat.

"So it seems," Shinji noted with a quirky smile, taking delicate bites of the "cake" and washing it down with a bottle of Bundaberg ginger beer. "This isn't bad. Different, but not bad."

Even if the only ingredient that tasted like what it looked like was the strawberry toppings.

After dinner, they wandered around some more, walking the streets and talking about their families, the fire, and some of the more minor things on their mind, though each kept some secrets from the other, with Shinji not talking at all of Mahoutokoro and Rin not at all of her family's circumstances – or at least not beyond her dislike of the priest.

Soon enough though, evening turned into the dark of night.

"It's getting late – the bus will stop running soon," Shinji mentioned idly. "Should I take you home?"

…but there was nothing waiting for Rin at home. Nothing but a summons to the Church for Mass – and she didn't want to go, not with thoughts of the War and her father's death fresh on her mind.

"No," she murmured, shaking her head as her hand tightened around her companion's. "I don't want to go home tonight."

"But…"

"Let's keep going for a while," she said, a brittle smile on her face. "Unless you have somewhere else to be…"

"No. Nowhere else," Shinji replied, giving her hand a squeeze as they walked aimlessly under the stars. The clouds had cleared, and the moon was nowhere to be seen on the lonely night. Slowly, the streets cleared of people, as young couples went home or to the hotels they'd booked for the night, but Shinji and Rin just kept on walking, until at last they came to the park by the river and sat down next to each other, looking at the way starlight played across the water.

"Thank you for tonight," Rin whispered. "And for not letting me go home."

"Of course," Shinji answered. "It was fun." His lips quirked slightly as he withdrew something from his jacket – a mokeskin pouch into which he'd stuffed the last set of presents – a warm cloak he covered Tohsaka with to keep her warm, a brooch to hold it closed, and two ornaments for her hair in the shape of wings – one for each of her twintails. "These are for you."

"You…" Rin sighed as she reveled in the warmth of the garment. "You shouldn't have, Matou."

"But I did. No less than you deserve as Second Owner."

"I'm less the Second Owner than that priest."

"It doesn't have to be that way."

A fey silence fell, and for several long minutes, neither of them said a word, as they just looked at each other, until Rin worked up the courage to ask what had been on her mind for a while.

"Matou…"

"Yes?"

"What do you want?"

"Hm?"

"Why are you here…with me? Tonight?" she clarified, gesturing at where the two of them sat. "Why did you do all this…?"

"Because such a pretty face should not be clouded by loneliness and tears," Shinji answered softly, his fingers brushing the edge of his companion's jaw.

Not because he wanted her family's wealth. Not because he was doing some kind of gambit for the Matou family. But because he…didn't want her to be lonely?

…but why?

If he had so much power and influence in the West, why bother coming back to this…backwater? Why spend Christmas with her? Why…?

"Why…?" she echoed.

"The why doesn't matter, just what is," Shinji replied, not really wanting to reveal anything about his apprenticeship with Touko, the situation with Shirou, or that this had been an attempt to investigate the extent to which the Tohsaka family was controlled. Once more, he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles, which made Rin swallow – though she said no more.

They sat together for a time longer, not saying anything in fact, until Rin drifted off to sleep, slumping against him, her head on his shoulder, almost…defenseless.

But Shinji didn't sleep. Couldn't sleep. Not with what he'd learned, and the closeness of another person – another's warmth – another's heartbeat – another's breath, hot on his skin.

So he simply looked out into the distance, as time passed – twilight creeping slowly into the sky and a figure made its way across the bridge, humming an odd melody.

Shinji's eyes tracked the movement, though he couldn't get a good view of who might be there until the sun slowly began to rise, color and light filling the dark blue expanse of the sky.

'A foreigner…? No…'

Red eyes.

The person coming closer had red eyes and blond hair, but was…young, abnormally so for one wandering around so late – or so early – an hour.

'…he's not human.'

Shinji would have been alarmed, but he recognized the tune – one appropriate to Christmas – a day of peace on earth and goodwill for all mankind – the Ode to Joy from Beethoven's Ninth Symphony. That, and it wasn't as if he could run – not with Tohsaka sleeping beside him.

Slowly, inexorably, the child approached, his footsteps coming to a halt beside the couple on the bench.

"A song is good, no?" the odd child asked.

Blood red eyes and golden hair – definitely not human.

"Music can be a powerful thing," Shinji agreed slowly. He'd seen as much, after all – and knew some traditions used it as a form of spellcasting in and of itself.

"Indeed, it can bring joy or despair, and is more lasting than any transient glory," the golden-haired boy spoke solemnly. "In some ways, I think it is the highest achievement of human culture. Don't you agree, Matou Shinji?"

Alarm bells rang in Shinji's mind as the other spoke his name. But there was no threat from the other, even if he radiated a sort of power – power that demanded respect.

"You know my name?" Shinji asked.

The other only laughed.

"Of course, child of the Matou. And here you are with the heiress of the Tohsaka," the blond child spoke – not unkindly. "You forget your position as a member of the Founding Families."

"Oh, so you know about that, do you?"

"I know about many things," the other said simply. "I am old, after all. And wise – or least I was once, before I grew up."

"'Before you grew up?'" Shinji repeated.

"Not everything is as it seems, descendent of the beasts," the other spoke.

"This from someone who isn't human himself?" Shinji questioned, with the other looking at him just a tad more sharply.

"Observant too, I see. How very interesting," the other noted coolly. "A boy of many faces, many parts, many motives, much unlike your single-minded uncle, Matou Kariya."

…what.

"How do you…?"

"I knew him, and his deeds," the other said with a hint of superiority. "It could be you walk a different path, even if you desire a woman of the Tohsaka as well."

"…eh?"

"Oh, you do not?" the child laughed, an odd sound that Shinji might have found chilling for the serenity for it. "Then perhaps Tokiomi's daughter is a fool. Perhaps not. Only time will tell."

With that, the boy began to walk off, turning to cross the bridge once again.

"Who are you?" Shinji called after him, though the boy did not pause.

"I was once…an archer. Prove interesting, and perhaps you will one day learn who I truly am."

Shinji felt himself frozen to the chair by a spike of killing intent, but before he could react, it – and the child – were gone, with the strains of Ode to Joy fading into the distance.

Back at the Matou house, the Archmagus known as Matou Zouken narrowed his eyes at the book Shinji had acquired as a gift.

The Epic of Makar Zolgen – his story. A twisted version of it, to be sure, given that whoever wrote it believed he had commanded wyrms and not worms (though to be fair, some of his worms had been…considerable in size), but recognizable, nonetheless.

Or at least he thought so, from what little he could remember – which was not much after hundreds of years of life. He was over half a millennium in age, and barely knew what it was he had fought for – why he wanted immortality in the first place.

The character in the play had said he wanted to create a utopia – a paradise which did not exist in the world. Was that why he'd wanted to attain Akasha? Why he'd worked with the Einzbern and the Tohsaka?

It was so long ago.

So, so long ago…

As for Matou Sakura, she found herself pleased by the lantern Shinji had given her. It was a simple thing, to be sure, but it was elegant enough, filtering and using prana to shining with a pure white light that brought a sense of peace – and seemed to deploy a bounded field that kept the area around it free of corruption.

A valuable gift – and potentially a powerful one – which made her think that perhaps her…brother wasn't as cold as he seemed, that perhaps he simply didn't know how to relate to others. At the very least, he didn't seem to mind that she had taken his position and birthright, and so she felt confident about learning the Matou arts and coming into her own as a magus.

As someone who reached her true potential – whatever that might be.

Someone who would not be broken.

In the town of Ottery St. Catchpole, Luna Lovegood looking admiringly at an enchanted sculpture of a kirin – or qilin – sent to her from the city of Mahoutokoro, marveling at the craftsmanship of it, and how light shimmered and played across it as if it was alive.

…and marveled more at how both it – and the picture in the ornately illustrated book of Japanese myths he'd sent her – were nearly identical to her mental image of a Crumple-Horned Snorkack.

Which made her wonder for the first time why her father knew such a creature, why he had told her about this beast which no one in the West believed in. Had he seen one? Had one appeared to him once, long ago, in the northern lands?

The arrival or passing of a sage…

…her mother? Herself?

She didn't think of herself as such, but sometimes, possibilities unfolded to her, paths that others did not walk. She was just a girl who didn't fit in to the conventional structure of things, who saw things differently and often found her own way.

Much like Matou Shinji, the boy who had stood by her, had given her gifts, had read the works of muggle authors like Tolkien or Bradbury with her. Sometimes she thought of herself as being like the girl in the short story All Summer in a Day, bullied and ostracized for things she could see and others couldn't, seen as slightly loony.

But he hadn't thought so.

He was just as sane as she was – and that made her smile.

Suddenly, she looked up, a shiver of unease slithering down her spine as her silvery eyes looked into the distance. But there was nothing there – nothing that should have triggered such a reaction. Just the starlit sky and snowy ground outside the window.

She shook her head, turning back to the sculpture, though her eyes paused upon a copy of The Fellowship of the Ring and a sensation of inexplicable dread passed through her. She took a breath, frowned, and tried to clear her mind, but words came unbidden to her lips…

"Three for the brothers, unwilling to die…Seven for the Dark Lord, fallen from his throne…"