Chapter Fourteen

Spilt Blood

Concerning the incident involving Malte, in which Jubstacheit believed that Irisviel might have, in his opinion, gained a little too much feeling as a mother, Aloisia happened to be a witness to it. And while on the surface it might have seemed harmless, Kiritsugu, for his part, certainly knew better. He wasn't exactly trusting of a man who would force himself upon a woman, like Malte had once done to Irisviel.

The incident itself occurred when Kiritsugu was in the library, and Aloisia happened to be bringing in tea. The way she reported the incident to Jubstacheit was, to her credit in Kiritsugu's opinion, quite accurate, and succinctly clear.

Ilya had gotten up to try out walking on her own some more, and as she stumbled past Malte, she fell. All Kiritsugu saw was the fall, but Aloisia saw more from her angle, and so did Irisviel as she squawked, "Malte!" and rushed to scoop up her bawling daughter.

All three of them saw the look of disgust Malte cast on the fallen Ilya.

While Malte of course reported it to Acht as if the whole thing were a misunderstanding and that Ilya just tripped because she's a baby still learning to walk while Irisviel was out of line in suspecting him of foul play, the way Aloisia put it was:

"He glared daggers at the little one and then stuck his foot out, and if Miss Ilyasviel had fallen more on the mark, she would have smacked her head on the coffee table."

This being the case, and Kiritsugu being completely in agreement with that assessment, this put him on edge as far as Malte's continued presence in the Einzbern Castle was concerned. The problem was Aloisia was considered a defective homunculus, one who had embraced womanly feeling from the very start. Jubstacheit considered her to be the most flawed yet of all his "granddaughters".

"Actually, she reminds me of a more obsessive version of you," Kiritsugu admitted to his wife as he took lunch in the library as he usually did while she sat across from him with Ilya in her lap. Ilya, for her part, had just been nursed by her mother, and was now looking at pictures in a soft book for infants, one that contained images of brilliantly colored birds. And somehow it didn't seem strange to Kiritsugu that at this point he had been living in this castle for over a year and a half, almost two years.

So much had happened. So much had changed.

Irisviel meanwhile chuckled at his observation on Aloisia. "Is that so? Because you know, you aren't very nice to her."

Kiritsugu opened his mouth to argue the point when Aloisia herself arrived with tea. Silence dropped in amongst all of them, and Kiritsugu endured it with his teeth ground while Aloisia served them and then bobbed a curtsy out. But before she left, Kiritsugu caught the private look she cast him alone over her shoulder while Irisviel reached around Ilyasviel to stir milk into her tea, and it was a warning look that boded ill.

Taking that as a cue, on his way back to his office to ring Maiya, he motioned to Aloisia with his finger to follow him into a nearby empty solar when the two of them passed by each other in the hallway. Closing the door after being certain that no one was about to eavesdrop, Kiritsugu turned to Aloisia and asked, "That look you gave me, were you trying to warn me about something?"

Aloisia nodded in earnest. "It's Malte. He harbors a bitterness towards Miss Ilyasviel, though I can't imagine why. But I fear he will bring her harm."

Kirisugu absently ran the pad of his thumb under his chin in a meditative posture, thinking, tapping into the long-dormant instincts of the hunter. "Perhaps…it isn't anything logical." He thought of the time he had found Malte trying to force himself on Irisviel, how she had fought back, and how he had resented that.

Maybe it was all violent impulse born of a desperately dark need to control things. It was at once illogical, and yet made so much sense in so many other men in Malte's position, the golden child of a wealthy and powerful family. A child growing up believing he could have whatever he wished, only to feel slapped when a stranger steps in to tell him otherwise.

A stranger like Kiritsugu.

"I think I understand," he said slowly after a minute of thought. He heaved a sigh and moved to open the door, pausing only to say, "I appreciate your telling me this. For my family's sake."

"I—" Aloisia sounded surprised, but unable to speak.

Before she could get any more words out, Kiritsugu opened the door and left. Even if he couldn't bring himself to properly express his gratitude toward her, he was comforted that there was someone who had Irisviel's and Ilya's best interests in mind.

Like an estranged yet still loving older sister.

For now, Kiritsugu was glad that the crib his daughter slept in also occupied his and Irisviel's bedroom, just like her bassinet did when she was smaller and newborn. But he had to think about when she would grow up, and have a room of her own. How could he and Irisviel keep an eye on her if they were separated by a wall? With someone like Malte, strolling freely about the castle with ill intent? He had learned to be suspicious of many things in his line of work, in his experiences with wicked people.

"Kiritsugu, what're you up to?" Irisviel asked him as she tucked a slumbering Ilya into her crib.

"I just want to keep an eye on things," he told her, triple-checking the lock on their bedroom door. Already he was considering finding a way to install security measures that would track Malte's movements as well as stop him if he tried to break inside.

"Are you afraid…of Malte?" Irisviel asked very quietly, and Kiritsugu turned to look at her.

"Iri…."

"Aloisia spoke to me." Irisviel straightened, but her eyes were on her sleeping daughter's face. "I can't say I'm entirely surprised, Malte has always been…well…you know. But I can't imagine why he would…want to harm…." She swallowed, unable to finish the thought.

And then she raised her deep, crimson eyes to her husband's face, and something like ruby fire shined in them for a moment.

"Even so," she said, "if he tries anything…I won't hesitate to stop him."

For a moment, Kiritsugu heaved a sigh and then said, "I told you…Iri…I shoulder the sins for us. I won't…have your hands stained."

But Irisviel very carefully stroked Ilya's soft little cheek, no doubt feeling her baby's soft little breaths against her skin. "I don't think it's wicked to spill blood…if it's for the sake of someone you love."

"That's a matter of perspective," Kiritsugu told her, leaving the door and crossing over to remove his suit and tie. "Many conflicts, great and small, are often fought over protecting or avenging people who are or were precious to those fighting. I believe you pointed that out to me yourself when you first brought up the subject of love."

"Still…for you and Ilya, I would spill blood gladly, if it meant protecting you two." Irisviel raised a smile to him. "After all, it's why I have faith in you. It's why I first thought about falling in love with you, and why I grew to love you so very much. Remember what I told you? When you first spoke to me not with coldness, but with passion and life, I told you that's always stayed with me. And I wanted to share in that beauty with you, and help you fight for your dream for the world, because you make it sound so beautiful. And because I see that you've come through so much pain to get this far, and I felt some of that pain too, seeing you feel that way, understanding that that was part of what it meant…to love others…to feel pain…when the ones most dear to you are in pain…."

Kiritsugu stared at her as she bit her trembling lip, dropping her eyes down to Ilya again. From an outside perspective, maybe she would seem overprotective. But to Kiritsugu, he only saw the woman he loved and was proud to have as his wife and the mother of his child. That being the case, he wanted nothing more than anything in that moment to make her proud to have him as her husband and the father of their precious Ilya.

Just as she seemed about to crumble inward from her own growing anxiety, he swept in from behind and took her in his arms, pressing her close to his reassuring warmth. He felt her relax in his embrace, giving something like a sigh of temporary relief, and he whispered in her ear with great and loving urgency, partly buried in the softness of her silver hair:

"I won't let anything happen to her. I swear it."

Irisviel clutched his arm, and she gave a soft chuckle, putting on her demeanor of bravery. "I know you won't. But if it comes down to me, I promise I won't hesitate."

Kiritsugu looked up from her shoulder and contemplated the fiercely protective and determined expression she gave him now. And he realized…Ilya too had become her reason for fighting. Perhaps greater than any other reason. Which was fine by him. He never wanted it to be that she was doing this solely for him, only because he didn't feel he deserved to have anyone sacrifice their life for his sake alone. But for Ilya…it was a reason to fight that they could both be united in, like any other couple with a child they both loved dearly would be.

And he believed that in this, Irisviel had reached the true potential of her strength, the strength of a loving mother, and he had no doubt in his mind now that she would do everything to protect Ilya from playing a role in the Fifth Holy Grail War, no matter the cost, and it solidified his faith and trust in her all the more. An unspoken understanding between them.

"Iri…what a beautiful blossom you've grown into," he told her, and pressed a kiss into her shoulder, glad to see her smile in appreciation of the compliment. He didn't even care that putting it like that was such a cliché thing to say, because every word of it was true, and an affirmation of everything he cherished about her.

And with the love he gave to both her and their daughter, he hoped that in that way, he could at least repay that debt to her, even if it only amounted to a very small fraction of it.

Ilya stirred in her sleep then, heaving a tiny sigh as she rolled over, which evoked small, quiet cries of delight from her parents as they watched over her.

"It's incredible," Irisviel observed in a whisper, "that there can be so much love for someone so tiny."

"Indeed," Kiritsugu concurred, but while Irisviel went on fawning softly over her daughter, his eyes flicked again to the door, wary, still determined that despite everything, despite his wife's resolve and her commitment to him, if he could shield her as much as he wished to shield Ilya from the flow of spilt blood, he would shoulder all the dark sins he knew he would have to shoulder in the time to come all the more gladly.

And as he thought this, he began to believe more in what Irisviel had said, about the kind of purity that could be found in spilling blood for the simple sake of someone beloved and precious. Regardless of his talent for detachment, maybe, in the end, the act of killing his father hadn't been anything extraordinary, just an impulsive reaction of a grieving boy full of anger at how little his father had seemed to care, in that moment, that his dedicated and kind assistant, that Shirley…had died because of him.

Even so, with every shot he'd fired since that day, he had hoped to justify that first kill. And when he weighed the possible outcomes against each other, eliminating his father had been the first step towards his desire to bring peace and justice to the world. For that fact alone, he could not regret it. For Shirley's sake too, he could not regret it, and that was because of what Irisviel had been able to show him in loving him, and him loving her in return.

You see that, Shirley? he thought to himself. I'm still trying...even when the darkness claws at me…Iri—the woman I love and my wife—gives me a reason…to hope…. Just give me a little longer…and I swear to you…both of you…I'll make things right….

The next day Kiritsugu and Irisviel came in from morning training and ice skating at noon as usual. Aloisia already had his lunch brought into the library, and she handed a prattling Ilya over into her mother's arms with a faint smile. Kiritsugu realized it was the first time he had ever seen such an expression on her face before.

After she had left, he said, "Well, maybe I'll warm to her after all," as he sat with Irisviel at the table.

Irisviel rolled her eyes doubtfully. "There are some things I believe in you about, but this isn't one of them."

Though it was hard for him to say it, he was forced to admit aloud: "The other homunculus maids here are much like you were when I first met you, yet they're infuriatingly more unnerving. Aloisia is different though. A defect like the others but...if I had met her instead of you..."

"Would you have fallen for her instead?"

"I might have initially approved of her."

"Unlike me."

Kiritsugu made a face like he was forced to eat something bitter, picking at his lunch. "I think in her case, I would have found some other reason to dismiss her. And I wouldn't have fallen for her," he added emphatically, at which Irisviel couldn't seem to help a triumphant smile as Ilya woke up in her arms, eager to be fed.

"How do you know?" she still asked as she nursed their daughter.

"Because it was only by my impulse to rescue you from the snow, even after everything I said, and in my desire to teach you about the world and help you form a sense of self, that I came to love you, to love the person I realized you really were, or could be, with a little nurturing," Kiritsugu told his wife quietly. "It just...woke something inside me that way."

The look the surprised Irisviel gave him then turned into something that he knew at once he wanted to engrave forever in his heart, his memory, his soul. That soft, loving smile she gave him as she held their only child.

And then Ilya opened her eyes and they flicked in her father's direction. Perceiving his loving smile, she flung out a jerky arm, as though reaching for him.

Kiritsugu closed the gap between them by offering her his index finger. Ilya closed her tiny fingers around it and squeezed, like she was testing her own strength.

She was certainly strong, though Kiritsugu hadn't had any doubt of that. Even so, he felt that tiny hand's grip reach deep down inside him, warming him.

Then there came a knock at the library door, and Kiritsugu, Irisviel, and Ilya all jerked in alarm.

"It's a bit early for Aloisia to bring the tea isn't it?" said Irisviel, looking at her husband as he stood with a serious set to his brow.

"It is," he murmured, already suspicious of the churning in his stomach.

When he answered the door, it wasn't Aloisia there with tea, but another one of the maids—Elke—wearing a sharply blank expression.

"My apologies for disturbing you, Master Kiritsugu," Elke said, bobbing a curtsy. "But I have come to inform you that Aloisia has been found dead. It would appear she was murdered."

"I see," said Kiritsugu, reacting with a kind of lethal calm. A calm that Aloisia herself would have screamed at him for having at hearing such news. "What are the circumstances?" he pressed.

"Grandfather Jubstacheit asked that you come and see immediately."

"Very well. I'll be along in a moment."

"I'll wait."

Kiritsugu closed the door behind him and leaned a moment against it, gathering his thoughts, emptying himself.

"Kiritsugu? What is it?" Irisviel asked, her voice strained with concern.

At last her husband found it in himself to look at her, look at her as she held their daughter to her.

"Aloisia is dead."

Irisviel's hand flew to her mouth as she gasped, but she didn't cry out. After she was quiet long enough to let the words sink in, studying a spot on the table and then Ilya cradled against her: Ilya, who was so ignorant of such horrors like murder and death, who wouldn't know someone was coming to kill her until it was already too late, who had no means at present to defend herself.

Her mother finally looked up and said:

"Let me see."

At first, Kiritsugu was going to argue, but then he realized that that same ruby fire that had burned in her eyes when she told him that she would stop Malte von Einzbern from hurting Ilyasviel at any cost was there now, and there could be no persuading her otherwise on this point.

So when they reached the scene of the murder, Irisviel, too afraid to leave Ilya unattended by her, only went so far as to put her daughter in Elke's arms (Ilya of course protested at once with great wailing) and had the maid remain close, just outside in the hall.

Aloisia's body had been discovered by another one of the maids. Already Kiritsugu was theorizing that she had been dragged into this room by someone before her death. Seeing Aloisia, more doll-like than ever in death, with the front of her maid's dress ripped open and strangle marks dark on her white neck immediately told Kiritsugu whom he ought to suspect. It was enough, just by following the pattern of sinister events that had been surrounding them lately.

Really the only things left were the why, and forcing a confession from Malte.

Had the two of them been alone in the room, Irisviel would have asked Kiritsugu if he suspected Malte, but unfortunately Acht was also in the room, his cold eyes examining Aloisia's body as he stood over it.

He glanced over at Kiritsugu when he and Irisviel entered the room, stroking that great frozen waterfall of a beard of his. "Ah. Just the man for it. Perhaps you could shed some light on what irresponsible, arrogant deviant sought to and succeeded in destroying one of my creations."

He already has me on his list of suspects, Kiritsugu surmised, returning the old mage's interrogative expression. Either way, I'd have to be the lowest class of idiot to outright accuse Malte of this even if I have no doubt in my mind of his guilt. Actually, speaking of the lowest class of idiot….

For just then, Malte himself made an appearance and a show of utter shock at the sight of Aloisia's body.

"What irresponsible, arrogant deviant would do such a thing?" he demanded with a passion that Kiritsugu wanted very much to laugh at, the golden-haired son-of-a-bitch. "What a beauty she was too! Even if she was flawed, that's no reason to kill her." His ice-blue eyes flicked in Kiritsugu's direction. "You wouldn't know anything more about this, would you, Emiya?"

Unable to help himself, and knowing that it would just infuriate the man, Kiritsugu gave a cold, bitter smile. "No. Why? Should I?"

Malte's face colored with anger and he growled low under his breath in face of Kiritsugu's stoicism. "No reason," he bit out. He appealed to Acht. "This can't go unpunished you know, Grandfather."

"No, indeed it can't, my dear Malte," Acht agreed serenely. "So, being that Emiya has extensive experience as a hunter of the guilty, I shall leave it to him to uncover the culprit. And bring him to justice."

Malte stared at his grandfather a moment, only to have a flash of insight flicker across his face before a smile of triumph spread across it. "Ah…I see your thinking, Grandfather." And he chuckled, as though trying to contain the full extent of his joy, and then turned away, pausing to clap Kiritsugu with overenthusiastic geniality on the shoulder. "Very well then! We shall leave it…to our good master hunter." And then he outright laughed with palpable delight as he left the room.

Kiritsugu's dark eyes followed him out, being certain that Malte didn't so much as go near Ilya in Elke's arms. As he did so he felt a gentle pressure on the inside of the crook of his elbow, and realized that Irisviel was very subtly holding him back. He read in her expression her warning to tread carefully. At the moment he was walking on a thin line between maintaining his position as the Einzbern Master in the Fourth Holy Grail War and losing it, all hinging on protecting her and Ilyasviel.

Meanwhile, as Aloisia had been a homunculus, she wasn't given a burial, but thrown in with the other discarded homunculi in the Einzbern Forest, far below to the south. Kiritsugu watched from the window in the drawing room as two of Malte's lesser cousins disposed of Aloisia's corpse, stripped naked from her autopsy.

Malte was taking tea with him and Irisviel, having come across them on his way from finishing up some work in the alchemy workshop with Acht, and decided to join them after Elke had served them extra. Kiritsugu immediately suspected that Malte was orchestrating all of this behavior in order to form some kind of communication that would lead to Kiritsugu getting pinned for Aloisia's death. He was still going purely on instinct, but even so, the fact that Aloisia died shortly after she had informed him that Malte intended Ilya harm was enough for him to point his hunter's nose in that direction from the start.

Malte had no idea what sort of savage beast he was so casually toying with for his own ends, though the nature of those ends had yet to be revealed. In that, Kiritsugu was even more in the dark, but even so, he had his suspicions such as he'd discussed with Aloisia before she died.

As the men carrying Aloisia's body disappeared into the thick of the winter trees, Kiritsugu couldn't help a tremble of his lip, and he had to bite it as he usually did to stop it and master himself once more.

The bone china clinked behind him as Malte set his cup back in his saucer. "So it would seem the bloodhound nose of that husband of yours has either dulled, or isn't as great as we all thought it was," he said, hiding a sneer.

Kiritsugu turned away from the window to look at him at last just as Irisviel set down her own cup on its saucer, Ilaysviel cradled in her other arm. He didn't miss the way Malte's eyes kept flicking to his daughter like a predator watching prey and waiting for the right time to pounce.

Why? What do you want from her?

Kiritsugu clenched his fist, his jaw set, but revealed nothing outward. It was natural for him.

It seemed though that Irisviel had developed her own brand of cleverness, hiding behind a white innocence, and betting on the fact that Malte appeared to think little of her ability to be clever. This came from an extensive discussion the night before, when Kiritsugu told her everything that had passed between him and Aloisia the last time they had spoken alone before her death.

She smiled at her cousin now, but only her husband saw the falsity of it. "Oh now…I'm sure it's all in the strategy of it. Not that I would understand such things," she added airily, heeding the summons of Ilya as she squirmed awake and tugged at one of her mother's breasts, having learned for herself that that presented a clear way to indicate that she was hungry, without having to outright bawl for it.

In fact, Ilya had done a lot less crying of late, as she began to realize what true potential she could develop as a growing person. It was little things like this that added to Kiritsugu's pride in his daughter with each passing day. Now she cried for different reasons, like the fact that her baby teeth were coming in, which, with a strange irony, meant that very soon Irisviel was going to have to wean her away from breastfeeding.

Meanwhile, he couldn't help being a little pleased to see how uncomfortable watching Irisviel nurse right in front of him made Malte feel, and Kiritsugu took the opportunity to rib him for it.

"What's the matter, Malte?" he said in a rare tone of teasing. "From what Greta's said, your mother fed you the same way as an infant."

He raised his eyebrows, and for a moment was struck with a thought he'd learned to ignore for so long: this man, like every other person he had known, every person he had met and or killed, had once been a helpless baby screaming in someone's arms. Even though Irisviel was the only exception to that rule (and those like her, like Aloisia), Irisviel too had gone through her own kind of birth and growth, but regardless, without hesitation he counted her among the many beautiful flowers he had come across in his life, the people he had known and loved. And even if he had spilled their blood, something about Irisviel herself had taught him to see the love for them that he had still held in his heart even when he'd pulled the trigger.

"It doesn't make it any less cruel, but for you it's only a mask," she had told him once before tenderly stroking the side of his face. "You have such resolve. You aren't fickle. In that way, I will concede that you are indeed, very strong."

And now, this time, he could be like everyone else, and direct his weapons at Malte for the simple sake of protecting his wife and daughter.

For Malte's part, he frowned at the way Kiritsugu had spoken to him. And then he said, very bitterly, "She doesn't count," and got up before anyone could say anything, slamming the door behind him as he left.

Irisviel hugged Ilya close to her. "Well, it's certainly clear that he holds Ilya in contempt."

"And I think I can see why," said Kiritsugu, his eyes still fixed on the door. "He's consumed by demons of envy and desire."

"Envy and desire, is it?"

"Yes. You remember how he forced himself on you that day in the foyer?"

"How could I forget?"

"Well, just as I told you I told Aloisia, with Malte I see a man who's still very much a frustrated boy who grew up not knowing the meaning of not getting his way. And he saw that you were beautiful, and he wanted you, and you told him no."

"Then he's envious of you."

"No, actually. I thought that too, at first. But this is a different kind of envy. If he were envious of me for having married you, it would mean that what he felt for you was real love. But that was never the case."

"What kind of envy is it then?" Irisviel frowned up at her husband.

Kiritsugu tore his eyes away from the door and looked at her at last. "It's Ilyasviel he's envious of. She's the new golden child in the house. He never saw you that way, but Ilya…truly is a child." He reached down and touched Ilya's brow in a small gesture of love. "As for Aloisia, he killed her because she sided with you. I imagine…she defied him too. And he'd had enough of things he wanted pulling out of his reach."

Irisviel shut her eyes, shuddering. "Ilya…" she whispered with a creeping, desperate fear.

But then Kiritsugu knelt beside her chair and reached over to affectionately tuck a few strands of her silver hair behind her ear, the way he liked to do for her sometimes, just to give her a whisper of his promise that he would always love and do whatever he could to take care of her while he was still able. "I might even go so far as to say he's lost his mind a little, and that being the case, it's the perfect time to corner him."

"How do you know he's lost a bit of his mind?"

"Jumpy as a rabbit, and just as twitchy," Kiritsugu told her with a grin. "If I let him go on, he'll act too hastily. For yours and Ilya's sake, I'll run him down tonight."

Irisviel kept her crimson eyes locked with his dark ones as he spoke, and nodded, unspeaking for her gratitude and the depth of her love for him, this man who was showing her, even now, the power contained in loving another, both for good and for ill.

"Kiritsugu…."

Kiritsugu gave her the token of a kiss on her brow as he took his leave. "Wait for me."

And Irisviel nodded, understanding.

For the rest of the day, Kiritsugu kept tabs on Malte, since it was such short notice and there was no time for him to unleash his full arsenal of surveillance equipment—that and most of it was with Maiya, anyway. Malte though remained acting on his best behavior for the rest of the day, but luck was on Kiritsugu's side enough that the Einzbern Golden Boy didn't appear to realize he was being so closely monitored. Or if he did, it only pushed him further to do what he eventually did later that night, when everyone else had long been in bed.

The Castle itself had become the playing field, as the two men tested out the presence of the other, but Kiritsugu, even if he was a little rusty, still had more on Malte in experience than Malte would ever have. Thus he was able to secure it in Malte's mind that while Kiritsugu was not in his bedroom with Irisviel and Ilya, but also not watching him, and of course only the former of those was true.

So Malte of course believed that he could find a way then to break into that bedchamber that very night.

But then he was baffled by the lock Kiritsugu had put on the door, which delayed him, and Kiritsugu chose the moment when the man was most engrossed in the task of undoing the lock to emerge from the shadows—the shadows Malte was given to believe Kiritsugu wasn't occupying at present—and grab him from behind, tucking the blade of his knife neatly and quietly under his throat.

Malte stiffened in surprise for only a moment before giving a bitter laugh in the dark. "What's this? You tricked me?"

"The only who's impressed by that is you, because you're such an idiot," Kiritsugu spat coldly in his ear. "You want to explain what you're doing outside my and Irisviel's rooms?"

"Just making sure this lock of yours will effectively keep out intruders."

"Do you really expect me to buy that bullshit?"

"Ooooh, resorting to foul language, are we?"

"You talk pretty confidently for a man who has a knife to his throat." Kiritsugu pressed said knife a little harder into Malte's Adam's apple, which brought about a gagging sound from Malte. "Why don't you tell me why you killed Aloisia?"

Malte coughed once or twice before he could continue. "What's this? You actually cared about her after all this time?"

"Until I get the truth out of you, you're a threat to my family. I can't have that, and were it up to me, I'd go on instinct alone and slice your throat right now. But I thought Acht might appreciate some proof first."

Unbeknownst to Malte, Kiritsugu had a small, pen-sized recording device switched on in his pocket, one of the few surveillance trinkets he'd kept on hand for minor things. This of course wasn't minor, but nevertheless, it was equally coming in handy.

Then Malte let out a low giggle that built in increasing insanity. "I see...very well then...Emiya...I'll confess..." He outright snorted with laughter. "I did it! I killed her! I even had a little fun with the chit while I was at it! And what of it? What worth was her life? Like Irisviel...who would have obeyed me like her sisters were it not for you... Or your precious Ilyasviel even?"

"You had no right to take her life—"

"Oh spare me your bleeding heart preaching—"

But the rest of his words were lost in a garble of bursting blood as Kiritsugu seized his opportunity to slit Malte's throat. He stepped back coolly, not moved in the slightest as Malte collapsed to his knees, desperately clawing at his neck even as dark red spread thick down his chest, spurting and leaving a growing pool on the floor.

"You had no right to kill her," Kiritsugu said, as Malte crawled about on his hands and knees, "because you have no concept of giving that life meaning even in the moment that you take it. Especially in that moment."

Strange that he should put it that way. He had known for years that even though he himself killed not just on favoring the majority of people living on in salvation, but also to give meaning to the greater purpose that was his mission to save the world from itself, those who killed without reason were the rule rather than the exception.

Still, he only killed where necessary. He wouldn't take a life...if the greater good did not demand it be sacrificed, and another method could be employed with equal if not greater efficiency.

"BASTARD!" Malte gargled, and lunged at Kiritsugu from below.

Kiritsugu easily stepped out of his reach, while at the same time calculating a quicker kill strike. It was like chasing a panicking insect, as he anticipated Malte's movements with his bloodied knife poised. But thanks to Malte's rapid loss of blood, his movements slowed drastically, even as he clawed in vain after Kiritsugu's shoes. When he paused to gasp what little air he could through his lacerated windpipe, Kiritsugu struck down, stabbing him square in the back.

Malte gave another groan and coughed up a spray of blood as his lungs were pierced from behind. But just when he ought to have given his rattling death gasp, he gave one last bestial roar instead and shoved up into Kiritsugu with all the strength he could muster, and Kiritsugu's keen eyes just managed to catch the warning glint of silver. Even so, with Malte crawling all over him, he was in no position to dodge entirely out of the way. He could only block with his forearm. So instead of Malte's knife blade sinking into his chest, it sunk into his forearm instead.

Kiritsugu gave a hoarse cry of pain on a reflex he couldn't control.

As for Malte, he only had enough left in him to give a sigh as he sagged and died against Kiritsugu. At which point, Kiritsugu unceremoniously pushed him off, shifting back across the carpet until he reached the wall where he could lean back against it. Then he wrenched the knife out of his arm and flung it from him just as Irisviel burst into the hall.

"Kiritsugu!" she shrieked, immediately making out the blood in the gloom. Covering her mouth with her hands on a gasp of dread, she dashed over Malte's body and dropped beside her husband. She lowered her hands from her mouth as she reached out to him with trembling, uncertain hands, her crimson eyes looking him over in pained earnest. "My love..." she moaned upon finding the bleeding wound in his arm, which he now cradled in his other arm to slow the flow of blood.

"I'm fine...Iri," he assured her, biting back all the swears he wanted to let out for the pain in his arm, in consideration for her. In his dark eyes, he tucked away the cold, merciless beast that he hoped Irisviel would never have to see. Or at the very least, wouldn't see until the time came for them to fight in the Fourth Grail War, for then he would need to reawaken the beast once more, just as he had been forced to do tonight.

"Fine, is it? I'm not certain then, Emiya, that I want to know what you consider wounded." Jubstacheit himself appeared in the hall like a wintry old ghost. He nudged Malte's body with the toe of his slipper. "This, perhaps?"

"Grandpapa…" Irisviel began in a tone of supplication, but Kiritsugu shook his head.

"It's all right. Dig into my pocket here. There's a small recording device. It should still be switched on."

Irisviel did as he asked and withdrew the pen-sized device. Since Kiritsugu's hands were more or less literally tied with the gash in his arm, he gave his wife the instructions to switch the recorder off and play everything back on the tiny speaker.

The tinny reproduction of Malte's voice laid everything bare.

Naturally, Jubstacheit asked to see the device for himself, since this was, after all, another one of Kiritsugu's little electronic toys that most of the Einzbern mages, being traditional mages, had disdain for. He was easily able to figure out how it worked for himself and replayed the recording twice more, listening carefully, before shutting it off and tossing the recorder back for Irisviel to catch, since Kiritsugu couldn't.

Then Acht looked over his dead grandson with a pitying cluck of his tongue. "Such a waste. He had such potential. But I suppose his blood ran too thin and too decadently." His eyes shone like moonlit ice in the dark. "This remains between the three of us. Breathe not a word of this to anyone else in the family here."

Irisviel nodded. Kiritsugu did too, but he rather thought that that all went without saying. Even so.

"I'll see to the cleanup," Acht went on, giving Malte's body another nudge with his toe. "But you had best get that wound cleaned up, Emiya." And then his eyes gleamed with that rare note of greedy anticipation, strangely the best thing that Malte had inherited from his grandfather, apart from his prowess for alchemy. "I'm pleased to have seen the true depth of your ruthlessness in action however. You did not hesitate, even knowing he was the family's golden boy, because of the threat he posed to our coming role in the Fourth Heaven's Feel. His life certainly wasn't worth ruining everything. I think that is the greatest disappointment he'll leave behind with me."

Kiritsugu looked away, uncomfortable talking about this in Irisviel's presence. "He was a threat to my family. That's all."

"Yes…your…family…." Jubstacheit's voice tailed away as though not giving what he said here much weight.

Kiritsugu wasn't surprised. He didn't bother with pursuing any kind of conflict on the matter, since he was just glad to see that Irisviel was relieved for him, even as tears welled up in her eyes when she examined his arm again.

"Kiritsugu, I'm so sorry," she croaked with immense depth of feeling. "I didn't want you to get hurt over this…I feel like I was so useless…."

"No, it's better this way." Kiritsugu managed a smile despite his pain as he now relaxed his head back against the wall, because it was enough for him to have his wife at his side like this. "Knowing you and Ilya were safe, I could focus…on Malte…."

At last, Irisviel very gingerly ran her soft fingers through her husband's dark hair. "I see. Still…when I heard you cry out…my heart stopped, just for a moment." She bit her trembling lip. "I've never seen you look this pale...even during that time you had that fever…."

"Really, I'll be all right, Iri..." But even as he spoke, he felt his eyelids grow heavy. He did his best however to keep them from falling closed, keeping focused on Irisviel's luminous face. "You know…it was nice…" he muttered, still managing a smile. "Fighting just for the two people in the world I love most…." He reached up with his uninjured arm and touched the side of his wife's face, even as the porcelain skin was painted with his bright red blood.

And Irisviel couldn't care less, tears streaming like tiny, clear pearls even as she returned his smile, as she took that bloodied hand in both of hers, staining her hands with blood too, letting it fall like drops of crimson rain onto her white dress.

Once the other Einzbern maids brought into the situation to tend his injury had him laid up in his and Irisviel's bed, Kiritsugu was able to fall asleep at last, arm bandaged, with Irisviel keeping vigil while Ilyasviel slept in her crib nearby, innocently unaware of all of the commotion around her.

He groggily woke again to the bright dawn, feeling for a moment like he'd woken somewhere heavenly, what with all the white linen surrounding him. Outside in the world of snow and ice, it was calm and sunny, and winter birds could be heard twittering. As he lay curled up on his side, facing away from where he could still feel Irisviel sitting next to the bed, between him and Ilyasviel sleeping in her crib, he sensed the throbbing in his arm and reached over to touch it with his other hand. He had to give the Einzbern healers some credit.

"Iri?" he called softly, hoarsely.

He heard the rustle of pages as Irisviel obviously closed a book she had been reading. He felt her reach for him. He reached back, and even when he couldn't see her, his hand found hers, and he gripped it with as much fierce tenderness as she did his.

"How does your arm feel?" she asked him quietly.

"Not bad. It should be fine in a couple of days, I should think."

"Hmmm. Well done. The healing maids made that same estimation."

"Well, I know a thing or two about these sorts of things. Comes from spending half your life in warzones." For some reason, he gave a dry chuckle at this. He was pleased further to feel some of Irisviel's tension relax. Clearly she had still been on tenterhooks, worrying for him.

A small cough announced llya's own awakening to the day, and at that Kiritsugu found it in himself to roll over at last onto his back. He gave his reassuring smile, seeing the dark circles under Irisviel's eyes.

"Such things are unbefitting for you," he told her when he pointed them out with concern, able to even reach up with his injured arm to run his knuckles tenderly across her knitted brow.

Irisviel heaved a sigh and said nothing, but she did return his smile as she did the night before, doing her best to banish the lingering sense of anxiety. "Oh Kiritsugu…."

Kiritsugu glanced over, catching sight of Ilya waving her little fists in the air as she greeted the day. Through the bars of her crib he saw her roll over just as he'd done, and look at him with her bright, young red eyes, folding her small hands together as though making a new assessment of her father. Meanwhile, his smile widened and he forced himself to sit up, at which point Ilya seemed suddenly overcome with a desire to be held, and she reached up with those little hands and made an earnest grunting noise that coming from a baby still sounded adorable.

"Do you feel up to it?" Irisviel asked as she scooped up Ilya to give her to Kiritsugu.

"Yeah, it's fine," said Kiritsugu, reaching for his daughter.

With Ilya sitting and standing up, and already able to walk, toddling across the library carpet from her mother to her father, and back and forth, Kiritsugu could easily prop his small and growing daughter on his knee as he did now, his hands holding her safe just underneath her little arms. Though he couldn't get that twinge of unworthiness in his own fatherhood to completely go away, because he loved her, and because she needed him, he could still muster some simple happiness enough to keep those thoughts in the back of his mind as he held her and smiled for her, and couldn't deny the excitement he felt when he got her to laugh as he dandled her with gentle enthusiasm. She waved her small hands about, tiny fingers spread, as though she were uncovering for herself the secret joy that could be found in pretending like you could fly, giggling and positively beaming up into her father's face.

Even better was the effect this had on Irisviel. Kiritsugu was glad to see that for her, watching the two of them this way was the best reassurance she could get that for now, everything would truly be all right. And the smile he was giving to Ilya he gave to his wife now.

"See? What did I tell you?"

"Very well. You win."

Kiritsugu's smile became a slightly mischievous grin. "It does happen."

This encouraged a laugh out of Irisviel, but then, upon further thought, she demurely admitted, reaching over and brushing her hands a few times lovingly through her daughter's growing, silky tuft of silver hair, "I hope that I…never have to feel helplessness like that again…Kiritsugu…. I don't think…in that regard…I could bear it…." She then withdrew her hand as her demeanor turned inward, reflecting how small she felt inside, how vulnerable.

Kiritsugu slowed the tempo of his dandling Ilya a bit as he considered Irisviel's words, and then said, "I understand. I made a promise like that to myself…after Shirley died…when I killed my father." He heaved a sigh, and ceased dandling his daughter, instead drawing her fully into his arms, holding her close against his chest.

Ilya, for her part, seemed on the edge of protesting this change in the current arrangement with her father, until she became distracted with the curiosity that was the buttons on his shirt, and reached over to exercise her fingers in picking at said buttons.

"That you wouldn't feel helpless ever again?" Irisviel prompted.

"Yes. Because I wasn't strong enough…to kill the girl I loved at the time…even when she begged me to…I swore that I wouldn't be so weak again. That I…would have everything under control, and be able to act without hesitation, without wavering." The smile he was giving Irisviel turned bittersweet. "All of this…comes down to the final test of my resolve…with you…." He swallowed, doing his best to fight back the sudden hot prickle at the corner of his eyes.

But then Irisviel was there, touching his face again, brushing sweetly at his hair, sharing his smile with a bittersweet one of her own. "As long as you don't forget…that in all things…I am with you…you won't lose your resolve…." She lowered her crimson gaze, a little sheepish. "In the meantime, I can't thank you enough…for what you did for Ilya last night."

"And I would do it again," Kiritsugu told her in earnest. And then he looked down at his daughter still obliviously examining his shirt buttons. "Because you're more than worth it." He blinked rapidly, suddenly raising Ilya up high into the air, surprising her but no less delighting her as he gave her even more of the sensation of flight.

And she readily flung out her arms, giving a squeal that turned into a peal of more giggles.

"Look at how big you're growing!" he marveled. "And so quickly! I feel like just yesterday you were no bigger than a small cat! Where did the time go, do you suppose…?"

To which Ilya could only respond with more giggles and more jerky, experimental flaps of her small arms and kicks with her small legs, the hem of her little purple nightdress flapping about her little shins.

And Irisviel laughed softly behind her hand, observing with even greater and tenderer happiness the growing harmony between father and daughter.