Chapter Seventeen

Father and Daughter

With the onslaught of another one of Jubstacheit's moody grey storms, there was still work that needed doing as usual. Quite a bit of it, actually, since everyone was snowed in. Combat practice and ice-skating lessons had to be delayed, but that didn't mean a significant and meaningful amount of ground couldn't be covered in the confines of the office.

So Kiritsugu went to his office directly after breakfast, determined to make good on the extra time he was given before lunch. Admittedly, he was a little tired from the night before, as he'd been kept awake again with the dark and haunting possibility that after all of this, perhaps he wasn't doing the right thing after all, despite what he hoped to come of all of the violent actions he knew he would have to take in the Fourth Holy Grail War. But Irisviel, in her soft sweetness, had reassured him, as only she seemed to be able to, somehow. And he loved her, if possible, all the more for it.

However, when he reached the doorknob of his office, he sensed something off, sensitive to small details and disturbances in spaces he was familiar with. There was a residual warmth to the knob, and without having to see it first for himself, he already knew that there was someone hiding out, concealed, within his office. True, Jubstacheit was strict about not letting him lock it, but the mere fact that he kept things like a modern laptop computer and a telephone and such was enough to keep the Einzberns—Jubstacheit included—out of his office to begin with. So there was no danger of one of them snooping. Even Malte, when he'd been alive, would have been wary of trespassing (though part of that too had been as a result of how intimidating Kiritsugu had been to him in the time shortly before he'd killed him).

So that left….

Cautiously, he turned the knob and entered the office, immediately closing the door behind him. No chance of his quarry escaping without his notice. On the other hand though, he knew that his quarry was in fact someone of an elusive capability that might very well exceed his own, which did cause some amount of trouble now and then.

The best way to root them out though was to act as though he didn't think anything was amiss, taking only a brief second to scan the room for the one clue he would need to find his quarry's hiding spot.

Ah. There it was. One silver hair, betraying its master in falling at just the right angle into the path of what little light managed to get into the otherwise dismally painted window. Poking out from just underneath the covering side of his desk that kept his legs and most of his chair from view from the opposing perspective.

That was all he needed. Clearing his throat innocently from there, he crossed over to his desk and sat down, acting as if he were merely stretching out as he simultaneously sought out his quarry with his feet.

"Excellent," he said aloud for his quarry's benefit. "No one but me here. Free to work on what I need to in peace and quiet." But his secret smile was beyond mischievous.

At last his foot connected with what felt like another foot, stockinged and significantly smaller.

He pretended to give a gasp of shock. "What's this? I'm not alone after all? Who could that be?"

Contrary to most quarries, instead of giving way to the terror of being discovered, panicking, and letting out a shriek of surrender, this one merely giggled. Which gave Kiritsugu leave to duck his head under his desk at last, coming face to face with his grinning daughter Ilya crouched there, as though daring him to drag her out.

And drag her out he did, causing her to explode in a great peal of giggles as he treated her to tickles underneath her arms much in the way Shirley used to grab him from behind and do the same. She kicked and squealed with breathless delight as he pulled her onto his lap, and ceased his tickling her only when she begged him to.

"Kiritsugu! Stop! I can't breathe….!"

"As her highness commands," Kiritsugu teased, releasing his daughter.

Coughing and catching her breath, even as she went on laughing, she turned a beaming face on him as she twisted around and perched quite comfortably on his lap. "I got you!" she declared, wiping tears out of her eyes.

"Oh, I beg to differ, I knew you were here from the start," Kiritsugu offered as a kind of challenge.

Ilya frowned. "Eh? What does 'beg to differ' mean?"

"Oh. It means that I disagree with you."

"Hm. Ilya's not sure if she likes that idea."

"So you're right about everything, are you?" Kiritsugu asked her playfully.

"Of course I am."

Huh. Five years old and already so opinionated to a fault.

"You know, you make the act of arguing a very difficult one, Ilya."

"Well so do you," Ilyasviel argued, sticking her tongue out at her father and folding her arms across her small chest to further underline her case.

"You know, Daddy does have a lot of work to do," said Kiritsugu, shifting to a serious tone.

"Can't you play with me a little though?" Ilya had forgotten how annoyed she was with her father and turned pleading red eyes on him instead.

"Not now, Ilya."

"Just five minutes? It's so boring being stuck inside like this, and Mommy has to go see Grandpapa Acht again, so she'll be gone for hours!"

Kiritsugu heaved a sigh, because if he had to be honest with himself, the carefreeness of a little playtime with his daughter did sound appealing when the weather outside was so bleak and cold. Even so, the best he could do was discipline his child in the art of compromise. Decisively, he picked Ilyasviel up underneath her arms and set her down on her feet on the floor.

"Later today, we will," he promised. "Once Daddy finishes doing what he needs to do."

Though Ilya pouted a moment longer, she relented after all. "Okay. Ilya can wait."

Kiritsugu patted her head, affectionately brushing back a few strands of silver hair. "That's my girl."

Ilyasviel couldn't help a smile, because after all was said and done, her father had never broken a promise to her yet. This time it would be no different, so it was as good as her having won him over in the end. She took hold of the skirt of her white and gold dress and flounced off, beaming brightly again, humming in happy anticipation of later that day, when Kiritsugu would seek her and her mother out, and the three of them could play together the way Ilya liked best.

Kiritsugu watched his daughter's retreat, proud even of how quietly and carefully she closed the door to his office behind her, using both hands and still having to get up on tiptoe to reach it. The moment she was gone though, he had to let go of that smile and resume his somber attitude, to adequately match the work that he would need to carry out that day over the phone and on the computer.

As if on cue, the phone rang, and Kiritsugu answered it. "Maiya?"

"I have a communication for you from Raiga Fujimura about that property you acquired from him three years ago."

"Is that so? Very well. Let's hear it."

Another three years…how is it that much time has gone by…such precious time slipping through my fingers…?

Kiritsugu worried on the corner of his bottom lip with one canine tooth, as he finally ended his work for a lunch break. He found a tray of stew already waiting for him, along with a tray of sliced apples and shelled walnuts for Ilya, when he arrived in the library, and something of his tension melted away when he found Irisviel and Ilya waiting for him too.

Irisviel was in the middle of showing her daughter the beautiful pictures in one of the art books. She sat in the chair at their usual library table with the great book in her lap, while Ilya stood nearby, leaning on the arm of the chair in eagerness.

"And see this, Ilya? This is a ballerina dancer. She dances to what are called, 'ballets'. They're types of…songs, I suppose, that you can dance that way to."

Ilya's eyes grew round with wonder. "She's so pretty, Mommy! I wish we could see her dance for real!"

"Maybe I'll find a video for you so you can watch then," Kiritsugu chimed in, taking a seat across from his wife and daughter. So many things stayed the same, yet so much changed, bloomed so beautifully, he cherished it as much as he could, knowing the day would come when such happiness would have to wither away in winter, and wait, hope, for the return of spring.

"Kiritsugu!" Ilya cheered, and she pranced around to the other side of the table and grasped onto the arm of her father's chair instead.

"Would you like that, Ilya?" Kiritsugu asked her.

"Mm-hm!" Ilya nodded enthusiastically. "And then Kiritsugu will teach Ilya how to ice-skate, like Mommy!"

Irisviel laughed. "If there was a way to fit the world in your pocket, Ilya, you'd seek it out, wouldn't you?"

"I know someone else a bit like that," said Kiritsugu, casting his wife a loving smile as he broke his hunk of bread in half and dunked it in his stew.

"I'd like to think I've already managed that," Irisviel countered with a clever smile of her own. "After all, just the two of you are the world to me."

Kiritsugu chuckled under his breath. "Hm. All right. Time for apple slices, eh, Ilya?"

"Mm. Okay." Ilya took one off of the tray and bit it in half with her strong little baby teeth. In fact, she was due to start losing those teeth rather soon, wasn't she?

As she was a kind of homunculus all in her own class, while she could subsist purely on mana, same as her mother, because she had also hungered for her mother's milk as an infant, she was also keen on eating food the way a normal human being would do. So she would partake now and then. Jubstacheit had made a point of telling her she didn't need to, but she had told him, in a voice that was scared only because Jubstacheit was the only person who scared Ilya (apart from the occasional appearance of Lord Justeaze in the nightmares she still had every so often):

"But I like that I can eat with Daddy."

Now Ilya munched on her apples with gusto, much as she did with everything else. She grinned up at her parents with cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk.

Irisviel tried to hold back her laughter but ended up snorting it out instead. Luckily, she was the only person in the world Kiritsugu knew of who could maintain her elegance and regality while doing that. But then he snorted a laugh too.

"I take it that those apples taste pretty good, eh, Ilya?" Irisviel asked with a little bit of a teasing tone as she poured herself her usual cup of tea.

Ilyasviel nodded and gulped before picking up a shelled walnut carefully between her tiny fingers and this time very daintily nibbling on it. "And after lunch we can play, right Kiritsugu?" she asked after she finished with that.

Kiritsugu polished off his stew and was about to answer in the affirmative when there came a knock at the door.

Upon Jubstacheit's entering the library, accompanied by Elke, Ilyasviel's whole demeanor shifted dramatically. Her face froze with tense fear, and she abandoned her apples and walnuts at once to duck behind her mother's chair, clutching her by the skirt of her gown, as though Irisviel were a lifeline. She poked her head out with the caution of a frightened kitten.

Kiritsugu stood, not so much out of respect for Jubstacheit (though he could be sure Jubstacheit chose to see it that way) but more as a protective gesture where his daughter was concerned, a paternal reflex, one in which he assumed a state of readiness should things go too far for his liking as a father.

"To what do we owe the pleasure, Acht?" Kiritsugu asked, doing his best to reign in his interrogative tone.

"No, no, there's no need to stand on ceremony, Emiya," said Jubstacheit, holding up a hand. "Please, have a seat and finish your meal."

Kiritsugu however pointedly remained standing.

Regardless, Jubstacheit pressed onward, approaching Irisviel, though it was clear that Ilyasviel was his objective. "I need to have Ilyasviel brought to the alchemy chamber at once. There are a few things I would like to examine concerning her."

"No…." Ilya wasted no time making her protestations to this idea known.

When Jubstacheit's cold eyes flicked in her direction, she shrank back further behind her mother, clutching more desperately to her skirt.

Kiritsugu, for his part, kept his narrowed eyes pinned on Jubstacheit, maintaining his guard for what the old mage might do next to force Ilya's compliance.

But then Irisviel stood, fiddling with her hands, but otherwise betraying no sense of fear. "What need would you have to do that, Grandpapa? It's only me you need to be concerned with."

"But she is our alternate Vessel, should you and Kiritsugu fail," Jubstacheit stated very plainly, in total disregard of Kiritsugu and Irisviel's efforts to shield their daughter from that fact.

"For the present that isn't the case however," Irisviel shot back, with a bite and an edge to her voice that Kiritsugu had never heard her use with Jubstacheit before.

Jubstacheit appeared only momentarily taken aback by this unusually defiant behavior directed at him from Irisviel. He stiffened just for a moment before he relaxed and resumed his commanding presence.

"Irisviel: this is important."

He had assumed the tone of an extremely strict parent, but after all Kiritsugu had taught and cultivated within her, Irisviel wasn't in the mood to be spoken to as if she were being an unreasonable child. Especially concerning Ilyasviel.

"She's only a child, let her be," she said in a voice that was softly dangerous in its own right. "It rather pains me, Grandpapa, that you have so little faith in Kiritsugu and me already. You think that at this point we wouldn't fight tooth and nail for Ilyasviel's sake? That I wouldn't?"

Jubstacheit stroked that frozen waterfall beard of his a moment, considering Irisviel's words. And then he admitted, "No…. In fact, I'm rather convinced you're far more dedicated to the task than ever before. You exceed expectations in that regard indeed. And Emiya…well…we all know your savagery has no boundaries." His lip curled, almost threateningly, dancing around the topic of how easily Kiritsugu had slaughtered Malte without giving a single thought to any possible consequences apart from stopping him and his malicious intentions towards Ilyasviel and Irisviel.

Kiritsugu stiffened this time, but said nothing, his narrow eyes still fixed on Jubstacheit, breaking only very briefly to glance Ilya's way, and discovered (somewhat to his relief) that by this point she was crouching and covering her ears, no doubt to block out all these foreboding words that caused her such deep anxiety and reminded her too much of her nightmares about Lord Justeaze.

Finally, the old mage withdrew his request for Ilyasviel's solo presence in his alchemy chamber, nodded curtly, and left the library, Elke closing the ornate doors behind them.

Only then did Kiritsugu feel like he could breathe. But he managed a proud smile for his wife. "That was rather extraordinary, and where you're concerned, that's saying a lot."

Irisviel exhaled and relaxed visibly too. She even seemed to tremble a little as she sank slowly back into her chair. Actually, she seemed too relieved even to speak, and could only return her husband's smile before she reached down and touched Ilya's silver head in a gesture of reassurance.

Ilya looked up from where she had her face buried in her knees, and, red eyes filling with tears, she immediately leapt up and threw herself into her mother's arms. She too was without words in her relief. She could only weep, harder even than that day all that time ago when she pricked her finger on that rose thorn. Certainly she had had her share of tumbles and accidents and the like since then, as all children do, but that finger prick still held the title for being the worst yet.

Irisviel patted her daughter's shaking back, her arms wrapped tight around her as though she would never release her hold on her, whispering softly in her ear, dandling her gently.

"My baby…it's all right now…he's gone…."

Finally, Ilya choked out, "He wants to do bad things to me, doesn't he, Mama?"

But Irisviel's gentle smile faltered, and she could find no answer to give her daughter that wouldn't be a lie. She glanced over at Kiritsugu over Ilyasviel's shoulder, and Kiritsugu could only share in her forlorn feeling of a parent's sense of helplessness.

Even since receiving it at the tender age of two, Ilyasviel still never went a single night without cuddling up with the toy lamb Kiritsugu had given her whenever she went to bed. Her mother had already told her her goodnight, so now it was her father's turn. Something else that had become ritual, that hadn't changed since they started doing it, but a cherished moment just the same.

Ilyasviel had the lamb plushy propped up in a sitting position on her stomach as Kiritsugu did a little extra tucking of the blankets around her. The lamb in question had been repaired and sewed and patched up many a time, but it was still the same old lamb in essence, and one that Ilyasviel had Klara some time ago. There was evidence here and there of Irisviel's first and quite botched attempts at sewing on this lamb, but over the years, evidence also showed that she had improved immensely.

"Kiritsugu, I'm as tucked in as I'll get!" Ilya giggled as Kiritsugu, ever the perfectionist, added his own handiwork to Irisviel's tucking-in job. "I'm not a…uh…uhhh…a caterpillar!"

Though Kiritsugu did stop, he couldn't help laughing. "You aren't? Ah. You're so cute, I must've mistaken you for a caterpillar then." And he tapped Ilya on the tip of her tiny nose with the tip of his index finger, which prompted another peal of giggles from her.

"Don't be silly. I'm way cuter than a caterpillar."

"Indeed you are."

"But do they really turn into those pretty butterflies?"

"Of course." Kiritsugu reached over to the little nightstand beside his daughter's bed and picked up one of the books stacked there, one about colorful insects, and opened it up to the section on butterflies. "You see? When it's time for a caterpillar to turn into one, he has to wrap himself up in what's called a chrysalis." He pointed said chrysalis out. "After some time goes by, he hatches out of the chrysalis like a bird from an egg, and emerges…." He turned the page, which displayed a beautiful photograph of a peacock butterfly. "…as a beautiful butterfly."

Ilya's mouth made a small, "o" of awe, and she reached over and touched the page with her small fingers. She had read this book hundreds of times, but the photographs and pictures never ceased to amaze her. "Pretty…." She blinked up at her father when she came out of her reverie as he closed the book and put it away. "Can we maybe go see those? On the day when Grandpapa lets us leave?"

Kiritsugu paused only for a moment, staring at the book he'd replaced on the nightstand. Apart from what Jubstacheit carelessly threw out, Ilya was kept more or less in the dark about the "actual" reason for her birth, at least where a possible Fifth Grail War was concerned. All she knew for absolutely certain (for it was the one thing her parents themselves had told her and assured her of) was that Kiritsugu and Irisviel had had her because they loved each other very much, and that one day, she, Ilyasviel von Einzbern, would actually be allowed to leave this castle. Beyond that, the fact that Irisviel would be dead and gone by then was not so much as suggested to her. It was a delicate enough subject for Kiritsugu, one he still painfully struggled with even with Irisviel's whispered words of comfort to him, but to force it upon Ilya so soon was…unthinkable. Not now.

But one day….

Kiritsugu felt the soft touch of his daughter's small hand over his large one, and he broke out of his trance and looked at her.

"Daddy? Can we?" she asked again, very meekly, frowning.

His smile for her brought back her own smile.

"Of course we can. We'll add it our to-do list, shall we?"

"Okay. Promise?"

"Promise. First place we go, we'll see them in Japan, where your daddy's from. And we'll see the starbugs in summer too."

Ilya's eyes grew round again. "Really? The starbugs?"

They were of course referring to fireflies, but Ilya insisted on calling them "starbugs", since they made the dark fields they flew about in look like the night sky, at least in the pictures she had seen.

"Here." Kiritsugu extended one pinky finger out to her. "Wrap your baby finger around mine."

"Okay." Ilya reached up with her own pinky finger. "Like this?" she asked as she entwined hers with her father's.

"Exactly. Now hang on." Kiritsugu cleared his throat. "I promise that we'll go see the butterflies and the starbugs when we leave Einzbern Castle." Very gently, he bounced their hands up and down held together by their pinkies as he chanted, "Pinky promise, if I lie, I will drink a thousand needles, and cut my pinky." And then he stopped. "That's called a pinky promise. It's like a very powerful promise that you can't break no matter what."

"Or else you have to drink a thousand needles and cut your pinky?"

"Uh-huh."

"Oh…." Ilya suddenly reached up with both hands, letting go of her lamb and clutching Kiritsugu's very tightly. "But I could never let you do that, even if you did break a promise to me. Drinking a thousand needles and cutting off your pinky sounds awful!"

"It'd be a small price to pay," Kiritsugu assured her, giving a soft laugh. "Compared to how much it would break your daddy's heart to break a promise to you."

"Yeah, but…." Ilya sighed and thought a moment, and then she gave her father's hand a squeeze and beamed superiorily up at him. "All right then: if you do break a promise to me, I'll just forbid you to do all that stuff. I'll…make you do something else instead."

"Oh?" Kiritsugu raised his eyebrows. "Like what?"

"Like…buy me a thousand dolls instead…or something…." Ilya's voice trailed away as her words fell a little flat.

Kiritsugu outright laughed at this. "Ilya, what would you do with a thousand dolls? You don't even like dolls!"

"Well…I'd make you play with them," Ilya offered as a challenge, her cheeks puffing in her agitation with her father pointing out the holes in her logic.

"Ah. Now that would be a horrid punishment indeed."

"But you haven't broken a promise to Ilya yet, so I wouldn't worry if I were you."

"Very well then. I won't." Kiritsugu glanced at the clock on the wall, noting the late hour. "Okay. I'm sorry to say, but we'll have to leave things here and say goodnight."

"Okay…." Though Ilya was an overall rather acquiescent child, she had her moments of defiance definitely, and sometimes even when she did acquiesce, it was obvious she did so grudgingly, as she did now. Though it hadn't always been that way.

Kiritsugu chuckled again and leaned over to kiss his daughter's brow goodnight before extinguishing the lamps. As he closed the door, he looked back once as the light from his and Irisviel's room fell on Ilyasviel's already sleeping face. The child's room was filled with nothing now but the quiet sound of her breathing.

Very softly then, he shut the door.

In his and Irisviel's room, his wife was combing her hair out at her vanity, the satin of her nightgown flowing like gentle liquid against her skin. She smiled at her husband's reflection in the mirror as she laid her silver brush aside, and Kiritsugu returned it, placing his hands on her shoulders as he bent to brush his lips against her temple, catching her iris scent.

"Asleep already, is she?" Irisviel asked, reached for Kiritsugu's hand.

Kiritsugu accepted her hand in his. "Well, as usual, she had a very busy day." Then he gave that hand a squeeze. "Despite Jubstacheit's brutal honesty...you and I will have to be honest too...though preferably not brutally."

"Hmmm. We'll think of something." Irisviel cast worried eyes up at him. "Kiritsugu..."

Kiritsugu released her hand and slid his arms around her from his position behind, hugging her tightly as he pressed his rough cheek against her soft one. He felt her lean into his embrace and clutch him by the arm. For a few moments the two of them kept that way, listening to and reassured by the feel and sound of each other's breathing. Kiritsugu, for his part, felt his heart throb with painful love as it always did, even just a little, when he held his wife so tenderly like this.

And then he withdrew, relinquishing his hold on her, and kissed her again. "Come on. I'm pretty tired myself."

"Me too."

Despite admitting to this fact however, the two of them actually had quite a bit of trouble falling asleep. The manner of Jubstacheit's visit in the library earlier that day, and everything else they would eventually have to tell Ilyasviel, weighed heavily on both their minds.

"She's still so tiny," Kiritsugu sighed. "That face smiling up at me...how can I shatter her as I must? After all...I'll be taking her mother away from her..."

"But I've told you, Kiritsugu, it isn't like that." Irisviel held his hand as she had it laid over his heart. "This is my decision. At least, I believe I've made it my own. And I believe in you, and what you stand for in all of this...in your beautiful dream... Ilya will know you for the kind person you are, and she'll understand. I'll explain everything so she won't be sad, so that she leaves this place with you full of hope too. Deep in her heart, she knows she can put her faith in her father, no matter what."

"But what about you? I can see how much it hurts you, just thinking about it."

"Yes, but, even so..."

The sudden melancholy in his wife's voice was more than Kiritsugu could bear, on top of everything else. As he felt her tremble with oncoming tears, soft sobs wrenched from her heart—the heart of a mother so dearly attached to her beloved only child—he very gently leaned down, coaxing her to turn onto her back as he took her mouth in his, kissing her with a passion deep and precious, one that echoed the passion with which they had first made love on their makeshift wedding night. She responded in kind, twining her arms around him and clinging for dear life to him as her tears went on flowing unchecked down her face. When he paused for breath, he very tenderly brushed away those tears as he nuzzled sweetly into the hollow of her neck before he came up and kissed her again. She reached up then and stroked his hair, and the two of them communicated their mutual desire for each other just through these touches and caresses alone. Words were of no consequence for the time being.

Indeed, though Jubstacheit had wanted Ilya's cells brought together in his alchemy chamber, Kiritsugu had made certain that that wasn't entirely how it happened. Not only had he wanted to have Irisviel as any man in love would, but he and Irisviel both had wanted their child conceived in love, not in a Petrie dish.

Now however, though they weren't permitted to bear another child (something else that greatly agitated Kiritsugu more than he thought would), they still wanted each other same as any other couple. Perhaps on the whole, their relationship was more intellectual than most, but just the same, there was something sacred in and of itself in their mutual physical desire for each other, a secret just between the two of them, a part of the unspoken bond and understanding between them.

When he paused a second time to catch his breath, Kiritsugu kept close to Irisviel's neck, wrapped in that scent, while Irisviel held him close, her fingers still threaded in his dark hair, catching her own breath with him.

And then Kiritsugu let out a quiet laugh, experiencing a rare moment of contentment, a moment of peace in this world, and then settled down next to his wife, still holding her close. Irisviel echoed his laughter as she stroked his hair, his face. Her face was as luminous and lovely as the moon in the dark of their room, the fire in the fireplace nothing but glowing embers.

Kiritsugu touched his forehead to hers and closed his eyes. "Do you really mean it then, Iri? When you tell me I'm doing the right thing?"

"Of course I do," Irisviel told him without hesitation. "And…it's the only way we can save Ilya…."

When Kiritsugu opened his eyes again, he saw that his wife's eyes still sparkled with tears even as they shined with determined fire. He thumbed away these new tears too, stroking back Irisviel's silver hair. Despite everything, he found himself loving her even more than ever in this moment, this strong and beautiful mother, an angel with a heart of steel.

And then he leaned in closer, taking her face in his hands, and whispered, "Iri…listen…because I want you to always remember this…how much you mean to me…." Pressing close to her ear, he murmured, "Itsumo aishiteru…."

Of course, they hadn't covered this in their Japanese lessons, but Irisviel, after considering the soft expression on his face, seemed to sense that she didn't need to ask. In fact, the implication of it left her at a loss for words, and she could only smile even as her eyes still glittered, overbright with tears. Kiritsugu kissed them away again, and hugged Irisviel to him, doing his best to keep his own tears hidden from her.

The next day, Kiritsugu was determined to make it surpass the day before, and took another one of his impromptu days off (sending Maiya a message beforehand), and after breakfast gathered Irisviel and Ilya in the library.

"All right, well it would seem we're still snowed in, so, I propose we make the most of today!" Kiritsugu addressed them both thusly, with a strange overcompensation in his energy levels. Actually, this was an attitude Shirley would have taken, it was like he'd been channeling her spirit lately. Though he couldn't say that that was necessarily a bad thing given present circumstances.

And the enthusiasm naturally was catching, as Ilya launched a tiny fist punch into the air. "Yay! What'll we do, Kiritsugu?"

"Well, I was hoping you might help out on that one, your daddy is at a bit of a loss when it comes to these things," Kiritsugu admitted, though rather slyly, stroking his chin in a subtle parody of the way Acht stroked that beard of his.

Irisviel couldn't help laughing at how steamed up her daughter got at her father's teasing.

"What kind of surprise is that?!" Ilyasviel demanded, clenching her tiny hands into tiny fists.

"Ilya, I think what Daddy's trying to say is that it's all up to you what we do," said Irisviel placatingly on another giggle. "So as long as it's something indoors."

Ilya blinked at her mother a moment as the words sank in, and then she blushed a little at her previous outburst. "Okay, but why didn't you just say so…?" she mumbled.

Irisviel chuckled again and stroked back her daughter's hair. "Your daddy's a rather mischievous sort, isn't he?"

"'Mischievous'?" Ilya asked.

Irisviel winked. "Playfully sneaky."

"So what do you say, Ilya?" said Kiritsugu, grinning. "What shall we do, your highness?"

Ilya stared at her father a moment before sharing his grin. Then she tapped her chin with her tiny index finger as she frowned in thought, and then said, "Can you teach Ilya how to play cards?"

"That sounds like an excellent idea!" Irisviel clapped her hands.

"Ilyasviel has spoken!" Kiritsugu declared, and he took out the deck of cards from its drawer.

As the three of them played Sevens, Kiritsugu was most pleased just to see the smiles on his wife's and daughter's faces, and to see that even though Ilya didn't win a single game, she quickly developed a healthy thirst for competition, particularly against him.

"Next time, Ilya won't lose!" she would always say after losing again, and she'd grin at her father just to strengthen her vow, her little legs swinging over the edge of her chair at their library table.

Afterward, when playing cards got tedious, Ilya asked if Irisviel would read to her instead. As Kiritsugu put the cards away, Irisviel happily propped Ilya up on her lap while she held open the book of German fairy tales Kiritsugu had given her. Out of the corner of his eye he watched them both, and he felt that precious golden light fill him up inside again. It was clear that no matter what, whenever Ilya was in her mother arms, she was indubitably the happiest girl in the world. She snuggled into the sweet embrace of her mother, curled up like a cat, her eyes fixed on the pages Irisviel read from. As her usual nap time drew near, her eyes drifted closed and she fell asleep nestled against her.

Very carefully, Irisviel did her best to lay the book aside without disturbing Ilya before gathering her up in her arms to take her back up to her room. Kiritsugu, who had been quietly perusing a book for himself, laid his aside and accompanied her.

"You know, all things considered she really is very extraordinary, just by a child's standards," Kiritsugu mused aloud. "For the most part, she's actually very well-behaved."

"I suppose that means you and I have done all right with her so far." Irisviel considered her daughter tenderly cradled in her arms as she carried her. "She's had her moments though."

"Indeed she has," Kiritsugu agreed. "But…she understands better. She's just learning, that's all."

Actually, Ilyasviel had learned at a very young age when to toe the line, for the most part, lest her parents become terribly cross with her.

When she was three, she had thrown one of the most out of control tantrums, likening her energy to that of a tiny bomb, over something as simple as not wanting to go to bed. As it happened, it was the last time she would throw a tantrum of that magnitude. While she pounded her fists and kicked, shrieking at the top of her lungs, Irisviel was at her wits end, begging Ilya to calm down. Kiritsugu hadn't been able to blame her, she didn't have any experience with children before, much less disciplining them with love. Admittedly, Kiritsugu didn't either, but compared to Irisviel, he had far more experience with the concept of children in general. He knew that for every parent it was different, and from his own experience as his father's son, he recalled that Norikata had never had to raise his voice or a hand to him, and in a flash of insight, he somehow realized how.

It wasn't what he'd said, it was how Norikata had said things to get Kiritsugu to behave when he'd been very small.

In three strides he'd crossed over to his screaming daughter, and he took her firmly by the chin, unwavering. The suddenness with which he'd treated her in this way had caught her off-guard such that she ceased her crying to meet his sharp, dark gaze as he said to her with pointed command: "Ilyasviel. Stop it."

The stunned Ilya had had no choice but to obey. Since then, whenever she'd come close to a meltdown again, Kiritsugu only had to raise his finger authoritatively to her face, with a fierce, "No!" and that was enough to quell her. Over time, Irisviel had developed enough authority of her own to be able to use the same trick effectively.

On the whole, Kiritsugu couldn't help being glad that Ilyasviel could be disciplined when she threatened to become willful without having to do much more than that. She wasn't perfect, of course, but she had a proper respect for her parents' authority when it came down to it. And when that hoped-for day came, the day Kiritsugu prayed he would be able to take Ilya away from this place, it would be just the two of them, and if she was going to depend on him, such tactics would come standard with all that would be necessary to go on taking care of her on his own. It wouldn't be without its difficulties, he was sure, but at the very least, with love and respect between them, they might manage well enough, and they'd still be happy together, just the two of them.

He hoped.

As Irisviel settled Ilya in her bed and covered her up, the sleepy Ilya woke up just enough to reach for her toy lamb nearby and tug it into her embrace before happily drifting off again as she clutched it to her. Then Kiritsugu slid his arm around Irisviel as the two of them watched their sleeping daughter, just for a moment, possessed by the bliss of it, before they left the room and shut the door quietly behind them.

The following day the Castle was still locked in the same fierce ice-storm. But Kiritsugu had quite a bit of work to catch up on, and despite Ilya's protestations, he once again had to firmly tell her that he needed to get his work done first before they could play. Though he finished late, he still made time to spend with her after he was finished, even with the sun having sunk low behind the snowy trees and mountains.

When he got there, Ilya was in the middle of painting with her mother at the little low table in his and Irisviel's room. Kiritsugu had a moment to watch Ilya as she was immersed in her moment of creativity as she put her finishing touches on her painting, that frown of concentration on her face and her tongue just poking out of the corner of her mouth. Irisviel too watched her with great absorption. Then the spell broke when Ilya looked up and saw her father had arrived.

"Kiritsugu!" Ilya hopped up from the table, with her painting in tow, barely dried, and ran into Kiritsugu's waiting arms. She showed him the picture she had painted—one of the snowy trees at sunset—after he had scooped her up.

"It's beautiful," Kiritsugu told her honestly, and kissed the top of her head in praise.

Ilya giggled happily and kissed his cheek back. Then she wiggled to be let down and Kiritsugu followed her as she skipped back to join her mother at the table, where she showed her father all of her other paintings, as well as Irisviel's too.

"Mommy's are lots prettier than Ilya's, but that's okay, because Mommy's older." Ilya beamed very proudly indeed.

Irisviel's smile was modest, but nonetheless she was just as proud of her own work. Kiritsugu noticed she was particularly pleased how one she had done of him had turned out, one she had done from memory of him that one afternoon he'd dozed off on the sofa, with tiny Ilya at the age of four sleeping on his chest. He smiled at the memory, how quotidian that afternoon had been, yet it stood out so sharply in his mind—and clearly in Irisviel's too—particularly when presented with this painting. It seemed surreal though too, for he certainly never imagined he would have all of this before him, these memories, a wife and daughter that contradicted all of the blood he had waded through for so many years.

Again, a new spell had descended upon the little family, and again, it was broken—this time by the chime of the clock on the mantelpiece of the fireplace. Kiritsugu and Irisviel looked up at the sound and noted how late the hour was for Ilyasviel.

"Time for bed," Irisviel announced.

Ilya attempted a protest until she was interrupted by a yawn and was compelled to rub tiredly at her eye with a knuckle. This was enough to convince her to concede without argument and let her mother pick her up and carry her to bed. Kiritsugu chuckled under his breath and stood and stripped off his tie as he waited his turn to tuck his daughter in.

In the adjoining washroom, he splashed cold water on his face and toweled it dry. After he came back out into the bedroom, he overheard his wife and daughter talking through the crack in Ilya's door as he passed it on the way to his wardrobe closet.

"…one more story?" Ilya was pleading.

"Well, just one more. A short one," Irisviel relented. "Which one would you like to hear?"

"The one about you and Kiritsugu!" Ilya requested at once.

Irisviel sighed, amused in indulging her daughter this way. "You really like that story best, don't you?"

"Mm-hm."

"Okay. Let's see…remind me how it goes again?"

"Mommy!" But Ilya was laughing.

"Oh, right, now I remember," said Irisviel with a little tease in her voice. She cleared her throat. "Well, it all started when Mommy got lost in the snow. It was very cold, but she wanted to prove to Daddy that she was a strong person that could help him with his very important work. But the wolves were there to try and hurt Mommy, and though Mommy managed to fight them off with her alchemy, one the wolves managed to bite her. Since she was hurt, she hid underneath a tree where it would be safe from other dangers. And just as the cold was getting worse, and Mommy was close to freezing to death, Daddy, who had gone out to look for Mommy, found her under the tree and carried her back to Einzbern Castle, where he made certain she was taken care of. He was there when she woke up, and he decided that he would teach her all he could about the outside world from that day on. As he did, he and Mommy fell very much in love, and when they decided to be together, they had a beautiful daughter named Ilya, and every day Daddy enjoys teaching Mommy and Ilya all sorts of things about the world, and making them both very happy. The end."

Kiritsugu heard Ilya give a tiny sigh.

"That story always sounds so happy to Ilya," she said. "You were really brave, weren't you Mama?"

"Well, I had to be."

"And Daddy's a hero, isn't he?"

"For you and me, he tries to be," Irisviel answered carefully. She laughed and then said, "All right. Shall I get Daddy now?"

"Uh-huh."

"Goodnight, my angel. Mama loves you."

"Goodnight, Mama. Ilya loves you too."

Kiritsugu remained where he stood, a little stunned, as he'd never actually heard Irisviel tell that story, he just knew that Ilya liked to hear it. Vaguely he heard the bed creak as Irisviel rose from it to fetch him, only to find him right outside the door.

She said nothing however when their eyes met, and simply touched his arm, giving him her smile. That alone was enough to pull him out of his guilt-ridden stupor, to make him feel that maybe just this once, he was worthy enough to be that shining white knight in that sugar-coated version of his and Irisviel's own little love story. Reassuring her with a smile of his own, he wordlessly turned into Ilyasviel's room and took his turn tucking her in goodnight.

The two of them talked for a little while about going outside to play as soon as the weather cleared up, and then Kiritsugu felt compelled to ask after some time nursing a burning curiosity:

"Hey, Ilya, why is it you call Daddy by his first name sometimes?"

"Do you not like it?" Ilya asked, frowning at this out-of-the-blue question, her voice betraying the possibility that she might start crying.

But Kiritsugu smiled and shook his head. "It's fine, Ilya. I was just curious."

"Oh." Ilya paused a moment, and then answered, "I guess because…Mommy always looks so happy when she says your name. And…I'm happy too. Kiritsugu always make Ilya happy." And she beamed up at her father to further illustrate her point.

Despite his underlying struggle, Kiritsugu managed an outright laugh in light of his child's genuine innocence, and leaned over and dropped another affectionate kiss on her brow, hoping that Ilya didn't catch the flash of pain in his dark eyes.

In the end…will it at least be enough…even if I can't be the Hero of Justice I had always wanted to be…will it be enough…that I can at least be seen that way in my daughter's eyes?

At last, the following day, the weather had indeed cleared up to let the calm sunshine in, with nothing but the serene side of the winter wind. It seemed that Jubstacheit had managed to get over his frustrations, which quite frankly probably had had something to do with Kiritsugu.

But Kiritsugu—not even he could be depressed by thoughts of that old mage. With his work done for the day, he took Ilya outside on an outing after lunch while Irisviel went in for an examination with Acht. Even that wasn't enough to depress him, as he knew Irisviel's energy had been high that day, after ice-skating and combat training and spending her own time with her daughter outside, showing her the Mercedes. Now, while she was inside, Ilya, still eager to keep playing outside, put her coat, hat, and boots back on, and Kiritsugu followed, donning his own dark coat.

Having well learned her lesson from pricking her finger on the rose thorn as a smaller child, Ilya was far more careful about differentiating rose thorns from walnut buds. In fact she much enjoyed pointing out buds that were hard to make out at first glance. Granted, that was nearly all of them, but Ilya seemed to want to become as good as her father at finding them.

"Today, Ilya bets you she can find at least a hundred!" she vowed. Thus far, her greatest record had been finding thirty-seven in a single hunt.

"Is that so?" Kiritsugu teased.

"Ah…do you think you can find more?" Ilya put her hands on her small hips, utterly confident in herself.

"Only if you're offering a challenge," said Kiritsugu with a playful shrug.

"You mean like a game?"

"Certainly. How about it?"

"All right! I accept your challenge! Whoever finds a hundred first wins!"

Ilya put out her hand, and Kiritsugu shook it in agreement of those terms.

"As her highness commands," he said, giving a little bow. "I think I can keep a good tally," he added with a wink.

Ilya, for her part, dived into the search with avidity, while Kiritsugu followed a little behind, keeping an eye out for any buds that his daughter didn't happen to spot. Even so, the progression one hour into their first game of walnut bud hunting had them nearly neck-and-neck with Kiritsugu up thirty-two to thirty-one.

"Are you sure you're adding those numbers right?" Ilya asked him at that point when she wanted to know the tally.

Kiritsugu tapped the side of his head with his index finger. "Your daddy's pretty good with numbers in his head, believe it or not. Anyway, you're only one behind. That's not bad, considering my reputation." He couldn't help a slight boasting grin at this.

"Ha! Very well, then I just need to find one more and we'll be tied!" Ilya spun around and hurried on ahead, searching keenly for another bud. So enthusiastic was she that it was too late even for Kiritsugu to notice the root sticking up from the nearby tree that proceeded to trip his daughter up and send her tumbling and landing hard on all fours.

"Ilya!"

Hurrying over to where she'd fallen, it seemed the wind had been knocked out of her, and that she was realizing that she'd jammed her knee against the same root that had tripped her. Her whole body clenched and shook as it clearly started to hurt, no doubt foretelling a likely bruise that would purple on her knee soon enough.

"Owwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!" Tears spilled from her red eyes as she whimpered in pain. "Daaaaaaddyyyyyyyyyyyyy! Owwwwwwwwwwwwww! It huuuuuuurrrrrts!"

Kiritsugu knelt down beside his crying daughter as she drew her arm across her tearful face. He laid a comforting hand on her shaking back.

"Ilya…it'll be okay…we can put some ice on it, it'll feel better once we do that," he assured her, rubbing her back. "Let's go inside, eh? I'll get Elke to bring you some hot chocolate."

Ilya managed to sit back, her tears soaking into the sleeves of her coat as she kept on crying. "But…I only had to find one more…and we could've at least tied…I didn't want to lose…."

Kiritsugu shook his head and tried to hide his laughter in the presence of her suffering so, because if he had to be honest with himself, she sounded rather a bit like him. "There's always next time. We can play this game again, you know. That's what's always so wonderful about the idea of tomorrow."

Ilya blinked her shining eyes up at him. "Tomorrow?"

"That's right. You can always make things right, no matter how bad they get, when you look forward to tomorrow."

"Ohhhhhhh…."

Kiritsugu reached over and gently wiped away the rest of his daughter's tears as she hiccupped and sniffed.

"Couldn't we just put snow on my knee?" Ilya asked after a moment's thought. "Then we wouldn't have to stop playing."

"Ah, well, we could, but the icing will take a while, and it's starting to get cold, so we should probably just call it a day and head inside, put on a proper ice pack."

Ilya made a sound of disappointment, but then winced in pain, and the severity of her injury seemed to win out.

"Here, let's see how we like this. If you do, we can do it next time so you might find walnut buds more easily." Very carefully, Kiritsugu picked his daughter up and lifted her onto his shoulders, securing her legs over his shoulder to support her injured knee so nothing would jar it.

And Ilya forgot how much it hurt as for the first time she sat up higher than she ever had before.

"Wowwwwwww! Kiritsugu, this is great! I'm so high!"

Looking up, Kiritsugu smiled as he watched Ilya throw her arms out as, quite expectedly but no less cutely, pretending that up this high she could fly. She did try kicking her legs a bit, but refrained when her knee smarted.

"Owwww! Owwwww! Owwwwwwwwwww!"

"Oh, Ilya, maybe you should wait until your knee doesn't hurt to do that…."

Ilya made a grunting sound of frustration. Now that her endorphins had kicked in a bit, the injury to her knee was more an annoyance than a serious pain. That, and it seemed that despite everything, she was very pleased to be riding on her daddy's shoulders.

As she gave another huff, Ilya presumably unfolded her presumably folded arms and threaded her fingers in her father's dark hair, clutching it gently as though that too gave her some solace. Then she said, in a very small voice, "Thank you, Kiritsugu." And then she leaned over and rested her head on top of Kiritsugu's, and she murmured, "You'll always save me, won't you?"

The question naturally made Kiritsugu's heart hurt a little, it couldn't be helped. Even so, he gave Ilya's little shins a tender squeeze.

"Daddy will always do what it takes to save you, Ilya. Always. That's a promise."

"Or else you'll eat a thousand needles and cut your pinky?" Ilya teased.

Kiritsugu laughed softly again. "Of course. That's probably the most important promise Daddy'll make."

Ilya sighed, as though she might start nodding off for a nap. But there was a clear smile in her voice. "Okay. Then Ilya promises she'll always believe…when things get too hard…Kiritsugu will come save her…just like Mommy…."

Kiritsugu bit his lip, but luckily Ilya couldn't see the tears that flowed and fell against his will, dripping like rain in the snow.