Of Swords and Redemption

by Saber is a Cutie

His performance had been flawless. His painstaking perseverance had produced the perfect product. But no one has ever spoken of what might transpire once the last light had dimmed, for to them, the stage is fleeting. For one such as Emiya Shirou, who has acted for far too long, even the path back offstage had faded into dust, buried by the sands of time.

7. Chapter 7

From a passing glance, the scene must have seemed like it cut straight from a film—the quiet calm before the explosive climax, with tension thick enough to be almost palpable to the naked eye. Two combatants stood opposite each other, the afternoon wind sweeping across rolling plains of grass with a soothing whoosh as the sun bathed the land in a golden glow.

It was very bit fitting of the beginning of a vaunted duel, the tranquil scenery encapsulating the calm of a swordsman's heart when the clashing of steel replaced words.

Unfortunately, it was anything but.

"I-Is this r-really o-okay, Shirou?"

"It's necessary to gain a base understanding of your current abilities before I can make a proper training regimen for you."

On one side stood a small girl, her dainty features twisted into an anxious expression and ruby eyes trembling as they focused on what was in front of her. Her hands tightly clenched around the handle of a sword whose blade was as long as her torso. The weapon was raised, its edge poised to draw blood upon those who would welcome its harsh bite.

At least, it would have been if the tip of the blade wasn't quivering uncontrollably.

I stood on the other side. My posture was was relaxed and my arms hung loosely by my sides as I impassively regarded the girl across from him with an aloof expression, betraying none of my thoughts as my eyes maintained their even gaze.

Well, it wasn't that I was uncaring. In truth, I just simply didn't really know how to approach the current situation, so most of my attention was focused on contemplation. The explanation I gave to Sylphiette was simply a stalling tactic I used while I thought of how I could fulfill her request. To that end, I borrowed a page from Saber and Paul's book and pulled Sylphiette into an introductory spar in order to gauge her abilities.

I made a note to apologize to Paul later. Being a warrior was one thing, but being a mentor was another daunting task altogether. Considering I was doing exactly what he had done to me earlier, perhaps his methodology deserved more credit than I initially thought.

"Um… a-alright…" The poor girl looked like she wanted to be anywhere else but here, ironic considering she had been the one to make this request.

Well, I couldn't really fault her. I'm sure she didn't expect to start off with something as drastic as a fight when she asked me to train her. She probably thought we would have done basic exercise drills to strengthen her body or practiced basic swordsmanship much like what she had seen me do before.

Those were all wonderful ideas. However, they neglected the very first prerequisite to being a fighter—the mentality needed to even swing a sword in the first place.

A sword cannot protect. It could only hurt others, cutting down the enemies in front of it with its unforgiving steel. The path it forged was not a golden road blazing in the darkness but instead marked by rivers of flood and littered with fields of corpses.

It was an unsightly life, an ugly fate thrust onto those who coveted the power it granted. This gruesome truth had already been revealed to me in all its dreadful glory, a lesson I had taken to heart. At some point, if Sylphiette wished to continue walking down the path she sought, then she too would have to learn.

Of course, on some level, I knew Sylphiette innately already understood as well. She would not have to come me with her request otherwise. She may have been young and innocent, but she was oddly sharp for her age.

But such lessons would have to wait for later. For now, getting her accustomed to the idea of having to harm another person would do. For the gentle girl, it was a harsh transition but ultimately a necessary one.

Well, perhaps easier said than done…

"You won't be able to hit me if you're standing all the way over there," I said, raising an eyebrow at the elven girl. She still had not moved despite me giving her the initiative. As I thought, the largest obstacle for her would be overcoming her own nature, her greatest battle being against herself—another common thread between us. "If you're unable to step forward, then there's no point in continuing."

It was cruel, but it was the truth. This was the very first step she needed to take. Everything else could come after.

The enemies she would face would not hesitate to hurt her, to take away the things she treasured the most. She couldn't afford to falter or hesitate when it mattered the most. If there was one thing I had to teach her, it was that.

Sylphiette looked at me pleadingly. "Can I… not use a sword?"

"It's heavy, isn't it?" I nodded towards the weapon in her hands. She gazed warily at it, the length of steel brightly reflecting the sunlight off its sharp edge. A stray blow from it would almost certainly leave behind a nasty wound, if not outright kill someone. I was sure that the possibility weighed heavily on her mind. "If you want to fight, then it's something you'll need to get used to. The weight of that sword is the weight of the responsibility you'll need to carry."

To be more accurate, it was the weight of human lives that she carried in her hands, but I didn't need to give her such a morbid answer. Then again, I was already starting to lecture her anyway.

Sylphiette grimaced at my words. "It's not that. I'm… okay with fighting. I just… I d-don't want to hurt you…"

Ah, so that's what the issue was. Perhaps I underestimated her resolve, and Sylphiette had already drawn the line between allies and enemies, and I was simply on the wrong side of it.

"I'd use a training sword, but it's back at the Greyrat's house. Don't worry, I'll be fine. Think of this less as a fight and more as a hands-on lesson," I said, trying to assuage her worries. "I'm not here to critique your forms or anything. I'm seeing how well suited you are for combat."

Truthfully, that was the main reason she was even using my sword in the first place. I would have traced a sparring weapon for her to use, but I couldn't quite come up with a logical explanation on how I randomly found a wooden sword in the middle of the woods that was most definitely not on my person before.

"It's… fine. I-I can do this…!" Sylphiette words wavered, but her grip did not loosen. I could see her muscles tensing, her mind working to overcome the doubts plaguing her. Determination sparked in her eyes, and I almost smiled at the sight.

I responded in kind, my posture straightening as I acknowledged her efforts. It would have been rude to display such disrespect in front of an opponent who was trying her best.

"One… one more thing, Shirou."

I raised an eyebrow at her interruption, silently asking her to continue.

"…What do I get if I win?" The corners of her mouth curled up in a small smirk, and her foot stepped forward into what vaguely resembled a basic fighting stance.

I blinked once, not immediately responding before I felt my lips curl upwards into a small, the sight of the normally demure girl displaying some confidence sparking something within me.

I wondered what had ignited such a sudden outburst of spirit inside of her, but wherever it came from, it didn't matter. Everyone had their reasons, and Sylphiette seemed like she was starting to find hers.

"You win if you can land one hit on me. If you can do that—" I thought about what would serve as an appropriate reward for someone like her. It couldn't be anything overly extravagant since we only met each other yesterday, but it had to be enticing enough to properly motivate her. My mind blanked on possible options until I remembered something "—then I'll make you a meal," I proposed.

"Y-You can cook?!" Sylphiette stuttered out, her eyebrows wildly arched upwards and her jaw hung slack.

I nodded. "If we are going to be training regularly, then making sure your body is receiving sufficient nutrients for development is crucial," I explained, though I wasn't how much of the scientific justification would stick. "I've been told that I'm a skilled chef, so I can guarantee you'll enjoy the food at the very least."

It wasn't arrogance but a matter of fact, just as the sky was blue and the sun was hot.

"Shirou's cooking…" Sylphiette's stance tightened further, her footing becoming firmer as she brandished the weapon at me. "I… I'd like that…" Her smile widened even more, and I could see the anticipation for the coming battle blazing in her eyes.

Good, that meant she was ready.

My mouth opened to signal the start of the spar, but the loud stomping of footsteps coming my way stopped any words that I had to say. Sylphiette charged forward, her footwork clumsy and her gait unsteady but rushed towards me nonetheless. Her speed was comparable to the boys who were bullying her before—no, a bit faster, even. The sickening thought that she had to be faster to evade them crossed my mind before I pushed it out.

Thin, bony arms held the sword tightly to her side as she crossed the distance between us, and after a few seconds, she was finally upon me. I looked pointedly into her eyes as she stepped forward into her striking distance, wanting to see her reaction when the ugliness of combat was forced in front of her face.

A small seed of hesitation sprouted in her expression, her eyebrows furrowing in doubt before its traces disappeared completely. Her sword rose, the weapon held in a tight two-handed grip as Sylphiette sliced at my chest.

I internally hummed in approval, noticing how her motion didn't falter as the sharp metal drew closer and closer to cutting my torso open. I waited until the sword was barely a hair's breadth from me, and when Sylphiette continued to follow through with her attack, I leaned slightly backwards, seeing my blank expression in the reflection of her blade as it harmlessly passed by me.

I analyzed her technique: clumsy, yes; slow, certainly. However, the instinct was definitely there, and Sylphiette did not pull back her sword at any—

There was the glint of steel, and my eyes widened slightly, the sword coming towards me once again far earlier than I had anticipated. It arced downwards in a diagonal slash, Sylphiette having taken one additional step to come closer. I deftly hopped to the side, and short strands of freshly cut auburn hair floated down in front of my eyes.

A breath later, and the sword was leveled at my stomach like a spear. Sylphiette planted a foot forward, and she thrust the weapon forwards. I pivoted on one foot and spun sideways, the length of metal grazing my shirt as it once again passed by where I had been just a moment earlier, hitting nothing but air.

Unfortunately, her string of oddly well-executed strikes ended there, and Sylphiette lost her balance and stumbled forward, the girl having misjudged the change in her center of gravity from having fully extended her sword outwards. She staggered past me, barely able to catch herself and regain her footing after a few seconds.

"You've been practicing," I stated factually after seeing her recover and get back into a stance. "Who taught you?"

Her movements were too intentional to be a beginner's. While they were crude and unrefined, there was definite purpose in her attacks. Her second attack had been thrown out using the momentum of the first missed strike, a tactic only more advanced swordsmen utilized. In addition, she had adjusted the angle and range of her swing to cut off an escape backwards, adapting to my very first dodge. The following stab had also been executed with decent speed, almost as if she had known that I was going to dodge in that direction.

Sylphiette shook her head at me. "N-no one taught me… I'm just doing w-what feels… right…"

I narrowed my eyes at her, but I could not sense any falsehood in her words. It made sense; Sylphiette wasn't the type of lie, and if she had previous training, I doubt she would have come to me. Of course, there was also the fact that her parents would not have allowed her to train in the first place.

Unfortunately, it still left the question of how she had learned such skills in the first place unanswered.

Sylphiette tensed, her muscles coiling in preparation for the next exchange of blows. She leapt forward, clearing the gap between us in a few elongated strides of her short legs. She raised the sword high into the air before bringing it down in an overhead chop. I twisted out of the way, avoiding the strike, but the sword had already changed its trajectory, Sylphiette having stepped forward to convert the feint into a horizontal slash at my chest that covered all possible areas of escape.

This feeling…

If she had been faster, she would have hit me for sure or at least necessitated the use of reinforcement. Unfortunately for her…

I bent my torso backwards, feeling the metal against my nose as the sword passed by my head. Sylphiette's eyes widened at the unnatural maneuver before she recomposed herself, flowing into another attack targeting my waist this time.

She had aimed lower to stop the same trick from working again, and she was still far too close for me to dodge conventionally with the extended reach of the sword.

It was only a vague familiarity but still…

I let my legs go slack, and I dropped like a bag of rocks. I fell into a leg split, and Sylphiette missed her mark again, her eyes widening at the unorthodox tactic.

Thinking fast, I quickly rolled away just as the elven girl stabbed the ground I had been on top of. I bounced onto my feet before frowning, wiping at the dirt that now covered my pants.

She rushed forward, exploding into a series of attacks. With every strike, Sylphiette's movements grew more sluggish, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her technique began to falter, the precision of her attacks giving way to clumsiness. Sweat dripped from her brow, her grip on the hilt tightening in desperation. As her energy waned, the force behind her blows weakened, and her footwork became increasingly erratic. Despite her determined spirit, fatigue betrayed her, each swing of her sword becoming a laborious effort rather than a calculated maneuver. Her final overhead slice, though executed with excellent intent, was slow and easily anticipated, the blade missing its mark and striking the ground beside me with a dull thud.

I glanced at my prospective student. Sylphiette had shown remarkable promise and talent, and I had no doubt that she would be a capable warrior given time, but the current sight didn't surprise me in the slightest. She was slumped over her sword, the weapon having remained embedded in the ground as Sylphiette used it to prop herself upright. Her chest rapidly heaved as she heavily panted, and her bangs clung to her forehead in slick clumps.

It couldn't be helped. Despite the entire bout only lasting for a few minutes, Sylphiette was just a little girl, and she did not have the proper conditioning to fight for any extended amount of time. Not to mention that she had been on the offensive the entire time, knowing that a battle of attrition would not be in her favor and consolidated all her energy and efforts into a series of well-executed strikes.

Her awareness was to be commended. Such thoughtfulness into a battle strategy wasn't something most people could implement, never mind a child.

Hmm… there was just something about her that I couldn't quite put my finger on though…

"We can stop here for now. I've seen enough," I said. Sylphiette's head instantly pops up to look at me, and traces of denial clouded her eyes as she shook her head at me.

"No… not yet…!" Sylphiette pushed herself back onto her feet before firmly grasping the sword and pulling it out of the ground and pointing it at me. "I… I can still fight…!"

I raised an eyebrow at the defiant figure, noting the blatant wobbling of her knees and the rivers of perspiration running down her face. Her face was flushed red with exhaustion, and she looked as if a stray gust of wind could have toppled her over.

By all rights, I should have denied her wishes. And yet, there was something glimmering in those deep crimson pools that beseeched me to bite my tongue. In the end, I could only dumbly nod, watching as Sylphiette pulled out the sword with a heavy grunt before pointing it at me. Despite her exhaustion, she managed to stop it from wavering, the steel tip pointed straight at me.

Sylphiette took a deep breath, steadying herself before she leapt at me. Her eyes were wide like a feral beast's, her pupils narrowing in anticipation as she took in every bit of information in her field of view. Even though I could see myself clearly reflected in her irises, I knew that what Sylphiette was seeing was not Emiya Shirou but only the line she herself had drawn, a reflection of herself that she sought to surpass with every iota of her being.

I blinked, and she was upon me, regaining some of her lost speed. Her arm rose, the sword falling down right after like a crashing comet. I hopped out of the way, and I only gave the weapon a cursory glance as it followed me like a moth to a flame. A stab missed entirely as I turned sideways. The following horizontal slash was responded to with a dodge backwards. She stepped forward to cut off an escape, but when I matched her movements and got close enough in front of her that only a few centimeters separated us, her eyes widened in surprise at my boldness. With this distance, her sword was of no help, and whatever plans she had thought of beforehand had met an untimely end.

"You're still holding back."

Her moves… they felt incomplete, almost as if there was another part she was forgoing. The execution of her strikes was excellent, but they lacked lethality. She had mainly aimed at my torso so far, but none of her attacks were outright fatal had they landed. I would have severely been injured, yes, but they were not as deadly had she aimed for my head or sought to debilitate my movements by targeting my extremities. She was intentionally cutting herself off, stopping herself from fully committing to this spar.

That would not do. If she wanted to be serious about this, then she had to dispel such hesitation from clouding her mind.

And even more than that, I was simply curious on how much further she could go.

"If you want to win, you'll need more than this." I explained. I frowned at the familiar words, the memories of a distant battle causing my chest to tighten. Was this how she had felt when she had faced me?

Hmm, the more I thought about it, the more I could see myself in the girl across from me. As for whether or not that was a blessing or a curse, only time would tell.

Sylphiette flinched at my words, and I knew then that I had been correct in my assessment.

"Can you really afford to hold back? Are you sure you won't hesitate when it matters the most?" Even though we were the same height, it felt like I was the one looking down upon her. Truthfully, I wasn't sure if those words were meant for her or for myself. I couldn't fault Sylphiette for not knowing the answer when I myself wasn't certain either. However, I still had to ask, if only to instill in her that treading this path was not something to be taken lightly.

"I… I—!" Her brows furrowed, and her jaw tightened. She was almost there, I could feel it. She simply needed a slight push.

"Even if your family is in danger?" Once again, I was falling into the trap of lecturing her. She didn't need such burdens this early, but then again, perhaps instilling the gravity of what exactly she had asked of me would ultimately be for the best.

Sylphiette remained silent for a moment before something lit up within her eyes, and I could see the dam within her mind break.

She braced a hand against my chest, grunting as she mustered as much strength as she could to shove me away. I hummed approvingly, letting myself stumble backwards. Now, we were a bit over an arm's length away from each other, a distance that was soon exploited as Sylphiette threw a slash towards my neck.

Excellent, it seemed that my words had their intended effect.

In a way, it was a form of trust between us. Of course, Sylphiette was not truly trying to hurt me. However, she could not grow properly if she held herself back. Without the viciousness and brutality of a real battle, she was unable to properly measure herself and give her all in this fight.

It was almost a contract—one that allowed her to throw away the burdens that weighed heavily in her mind. In exchange, she trusted me to stay true to my words, trusting in my abilities and not letting her regret making her choice. If I betrayed her now, I wasn't sure if Sylphiette could ever pick up a sword ever again. For her sake, I had to live up to her faith in me.

The sword continued its deadly arc, and I tilted my head in response, feeling its sharp edge a few more hairs. Sylphiette spun on her heel, and she stabbed her sword straight at my foot. I quickly stepped out of the way, the metal weapon skewering the ground instead of rooting me in place. The elven girl flicked her wrist, sending the sword upwards in a vertical slice. When that attack missed as well, she firmly stepped forward into a neutral stance with her sword raised high, any number of options available to her from that position.

The bout continued, but unlike before, there was the undeniable edge of mortality added to her strikes. Sylphiette continually focused on attacking my head and legs, the former to decisively end the fight and the latter to restrict my movements. It was a very pragmatic way of fighting, one that even Archer would have approved of, though I wasn't sure if I could bring myself to agree considering I could count her age on one hand.

Each swing of her arms brought with it clear intent to bring her victory, the shift in her mentality making her attacks more potent than before. It was not as if she was faster or stronger—the opposite, really—but the shift in her mentality had unlocked her fighting style, the somewhat smooth, flowing style becoming more refined and crisper. All of a sudden, my movements had to be more precise than before, any singular mistake capable of ending my life in an instant.

However, I remained unfazed. After all, this type of combat was one I was far more familiar with than anything else.

The sun overhead continued baring down on us. Droplets of sweat flew as Sylphiette continued slashing at me. By now, she must have attacked me almost a hundred times by now. Dust swirled all around us, our movements having kicked up the ground underneath. The whistling of steel parting air was almost rhythmic by now, almost as if I was dancing to a familiar tune.

In a way, I was. It had taken some time, but I finally grasped the reason for the passing familiarity in her strikes.

Sylphiette unleashed a succession of quick slashes, all dodged with minimal effort now that I had adapted to her style. The ending stab towards my heart was anticipated well in advance, and I was already close to her side by the time she pulled back from the thrust.

Because of her crude imitation, I did not immediately recognize it at first, but the explanation for her sudden skill as well as this nagging sensation all lead to the same answer.

She had only seen one demonstration of it, but Sylphiette had managed to vaguely replicate the swordsmanship style I had inadvertently showed off in front of her during my training exercise in the forest.

It was impressive; Saber's fighting style along with my personal touches was not an easy thing to get a good grasp on. I cheated by using my magecraft to bypass the foundations, but Sylphiette only had sheer talent to rely on.

If the other adults knew of this, perhaps they would be the ones praising her as the extraordinary child instead of me, something I wholeheartedly agreed with. If in the future, she managed to blend her magical talent with aptitude for combat, she would make a fearsome warrior. She would no longer need to worry about not being able to protect her family.

But that came later. For now…

Sylphiette was slowing down, that much was plain as day. Her swings were clumsier, and her footwork was sloppier. The crimson flush of her cheeks sharply contrasted with the rest of her pale countenance, and her eyes were gazing far past me, the girl more focused on fighting herself than me at this point. The determined expression that had adorned her face still remained, but the weariness of her body was starting to win over.

Well, everyone had their limits. A part of me was a bit ashamed to have pushed her so much, especially since this was only our first session, and she was still far too young to be doing any of this. The colder, logical aspect of me knew that she had asked for this, and withholding anything from Sylphiette when this gruesome training could save her life one day was more of a disservice to her than anything else. Trying to force my image of innocence and naivete upon her was ultimately unfair for her. If it meant that she would be safer in the future, then bearing her resentment was a small price to pay.

"Children should be children."

I scrunched up my nose, a foul bitterness rising from my throat before I forced it back down. Every time I felt that I grasped the answer, it slipped away from my fingers like cherry blossom petals in the wind, scattering beyond my reach. Each revelation was as short-lived as the flowers themselves, and the lingering sense of longing they left behind served as a cruel reminder of the elusive and ephemeral nature of understanding.

The sun glinted off Sylphiette's blade, the sword coming down towards my face. I coolly regarded it, unconcerned as it approached. Sylphiette's eyes absently looked at me, but I could sense her anticipation building.

This fight had gone on for long enough. It was time to end things.

I let the blade come even closer, and Sylphiette's eyes widened as she saw my lack of response. However, even if she wanted to withdraw her attack, it was already too late. She was far too tired to have realized in time.

"Shir—!"

Sylphiette's cry stopped midway, her mouth hanging slack. The sword in her hands had stopped barely a few millimeters from my face. Her eyes traced the length of the weapon, focusing on the two fingers that rested about halfway down the blade, my thumb and pointer finger pinching the sharp edge.

Sylphiette looked stupefied, a disbelieving look on her face as her eyes darted between my hand and my face. "But… how…?"

I cocked my head. "You're tired. It wasn't going that fast." I wasn't lying. It spoke volumes of her fatigue that Sylphiette did not notice how slow she was attacking. By the end, she was swinging her sword for the sake of swinging. Catching it in my hands was an easy task.

The elven girl frowned at my words, trying to pull the weapon out from my grip. "Not… yet…! I can still…!"

I sighed, letting go of the sword. Instantly, she fell back, landing on her bottom as the sword landed in front of her. She got onto her knees, scrambling towards the weapon but letting out a whine as I plucked it off the ground.

"That's enough for today." I looked down upon the disheartened girl before offering her a hand. She looked at it for a moment, and memories of our first encounter filled my mind, the similarities not escaping me. However, the circumstances were different this time, proven by Sylphiette's small smile as she graciously accepted my offer. I pulled her up, letting the girl stumble onto her feet. "There's no point in continuing. You have nothing left to give. Anything more could be damaging in the long run. If you're going to train at such an early age, you'll need to do so responsibly," I lectured.

Sylphiette looked at me incredulously but said nothing. "I guess…" She wiped a hand on her forehead, grimacing when it came back slick with sweat. "I should probably go back home… I need a bath…"

I nodded. "Yeah, it's about time I headed back as well. Paul should be expecting me soon." Unlike her, I was in perfectly good shape. In the end, reinforcement was not needed after all. Then again, I never expected a complete novice to force me to use magecraft, no matter how prodigious.

Sylphiette perked up at that. "Then… when can we meet again…?"

I pursed my lips in thought. "We shouldn't meet every day. You need to rest between sessions so you can recover properly. Rest and training go hand in hand," I explained. It was basic physiological science, but such wisdom was still valuable. "Twice a week should suffice." It left plenty of time for her to practice on her own as well as freed up my schedule. I didn't dislike spending time with Sylphiette like this, but there were things I still had to do.

"Twice a week… is that really e-enough?" she questioned.

I raised an eyebrow at her before I felt my lips form into a small smirk, raising a hand and ruffling her hair. "I'm glad you're motivated, but there's a time and place for everything. Don't overdo it. Trust me, you should enjoy yourself a bit."

Red eyes bashfully gazed at me from behind emerald strands, and Sylphiette pouted at my suggestion. "B-But is that what you do…?"

I wondered how she knew that. Perhaps it was that keen intuition that had allowed her to learn the foundations of a technique far beyond her skill level, or maybe because I wasn't a very good actor. Then again, it could have been both.

I pulled my hand away from her, wiping the now sweat-covered appendage on my shirt. Sylphiette paled at the sight, looking aghast at the dark stain on my clothes.

"Don't be embarrassed. This is the result of your effort. Be proud of yourself," I consoled. However, my reassurance had little effect, the girl abashedly covering her face with her hands.

"Nooooo…"

Ah, it appeared that Sylphiette was shutting down. Unfortunate but not entirely unexpected.

"Okay, I should be going soon. Will you need help getting back to your house?" Quite frankly, I thought she was a bit directionally challenged. After all, she had wandered aimlessly until she found me earlier today, and it had been up to me to lead her back to her own house yesterday.

"N-No… I think I remember…" The demure and uncertain expression on her face told me that those words weren't entirely truthful, but I could feel the resolve underneath.

I felt the corners of my mouth quirk upwards.

"I see. Alright then, meet me here in two days." I nodded and threw up my hand as a sign of farewell before turning around.

"Um… S-Shirou…!"

Like father, like daughter, I supposed.

I looked back at Sylphiette. She flinched when I raised an eyebrow, shyly avoiding my eyes and finding the ground far more interesting.

"I… I'll remember w-what you said today." Sylphiette clenched a fist in front of her chest, forcing her head upwards and nodding at me resolutely. "And thank you… for everything…" Perhaps it was the pearls of sweat trailing down her cheeks glistening in the sun, but I could have sworn that the small smile on her face shone even more radiantly than before.

My eyes crinkled. "You're very welcome, Sylphiette."

The beaming curve of her lips only grew larger, and Sylphiette waved her hand enthusiastically at me before spinning on her heels and walking back towards her house.

The wind kicked up again, blowing the blades of grass all around us into an undulating plain of jade. The elven girl's emerald crown gently swayed with the breeze, her tranquil stride maintaining its unperturbed gait.

The sight was eerily familiar, the faintest tugs on the back of my mind. Whatever it was, the resemblance must surely only been in passing.

I looked upwards. Judging by the start of the sun's descent, it's been quite some time since Paul and I separated. It was time to head back. Unfortunately, that meant that I would be returning to Zenith. Of course, it wasn't as if I disliked the woman or anything, but I always had to wonder if my presence was the best thing for her.

Then again, there was only one way to find out.

---

"Oh, it's you again."

Perhaps my words were more frank than necessary. Thankfully, I didn't think the man took it personally considering Paul and Laws shared a knowing smirk.

"Told ya."

"I already knew, but it's still hard to get used to."

The two men exchanged some lighthearted words, letting out a few rounds of chuckles. Laws reached into his pocket, digging into his pants before fishing out a singular silver coin—the currency of this world, I presumed. He deftly tossed it over to Paul, the small piece of metal shimmering in the sunlight, and the experienced adventurer nonchalantly caught it and placed it in his pocket.

"We made a bet," Paul explained when he saw my raised eyebrow. "He thought I was exaggerating."

My now deadpan stare moved over to Laws, who only shrugged his shoulders at me.

I sighed. I would think adults would act a bit more like their age, but perhaps I shouldn't throw stones from glass houses.

"I presume that he will be the one I'll be patrolling with?" I glanced towards Paul. The man smiled, the small toothy grin glinting with satisfaction.

"Yup. You get to work with this piece of shit. You're a lucky bastard, aren't you?" Paul joked, giving Laws a few gentle jabs at his ribs with his elbow.

In turn, Laws merely snorted. "Yeah right. That's a whole lot of crap from someone's who got his shit beaten by someone who can't even drink," the man finished with a mocking smirk.

Paul's eye twitched. "Oh please, if that happened to me, then imagine what he would've done to you. Don't bother lying—we both know I'm way stronger than you. Don't even think you're in the same league as me."

"Didn't stop you from getting sent on your ass by your own son."

"Oh, you wanna take this outside?"

"We're already outside, Paul."

The man in question growled, the smile on his face showing a good amount of teeth. He pressed his face right up against Laws, the elven man maintaining his calm and deadpan demeanor despite the village's knight showing clear hostility barely a few centimeters from him.

From my perspective, Laws was a tad shorter, but his aloofness at the situation made him seem far taller than the man in front of him. Paul knew this, of course, and Laws's unperturbed expression only served to stoke the fires of Paul's anger. If anything, the elven man continued to hold onto his pride, not cowed by the man's flashing canines nor his dark and viscous expression.

I frowned at the sight, and I idly wondered if I would need to step in. I wouldn't physically stop him, but perhaps some words to remind Paul would be good. After all, the man was quite emotional, despite his mostly good intentions.

"Ah geez, fine. Guess I couldn't scare ya." With a sigh, Paul backed off, a good-natured smile on his face replacing the scary visage. A small grin blossomed across Laws's lips, a satisfied aura surrounding the man.

"We've known each other for a while. Your little tricks aren't going to work on me," Laws said with a roll of his eyes.

Paul stood next to him, hitting his back with a meaty slap before wrapping his arm around Laws's shoulders. "Well ya, I wouldn't like you so much if you didn't have much of a backbone." This time, Paul's toothy grin was sincere, a gesture that Laws couldn't help but smile even wider at.

The two men chuckled heartily, the tension in the air dissipating as if it never existed in the first place. One would never have guessed that they had just been jawing at each other a few moments ago.

Ah, another development had slipped underneath my notice this entire time. Before, I had observed Zenith and Lilia's increasing closeness, the alienated and overwhelmed woman seeking out companionship in the only other person who could have lent her an ear. Their budding friendship was one I was satisfied to see, recognizing that Zenith desperately needed a pillar of support within the fractured household.

However, I never had wondered about Paul, any idea of contemplating how the man coped and dealt with the same situation that had driven Zenith to Lilia completely slipping my mind. Not that it mattered now—the answer was staring at me straight on. Just like how Zenith had sought out someone to help bear her burdens, Paul had done the same. After all, they were only human and thus were creatures of companionship.

Well, I didn't judge them. Just like I was with Zenith, I was glad Paul had found someone he could confide in. Perhaps his and Laws's relationship was a bit more… rough than what I was used to, but as long as this dynamic worked for them, that's all that mattered.

I let the two men continue their joyful chortles, not particularly inclined to interrupt the moment. Now that I thought about it, this was the first time I saw Paul so openly happy and expressive. Ever since yesterday, he had been more open with me, but the carefree smile gracing his lips and lack of tension in his face was a sight that I had not seen yet.

"Anyway, like I said, you'll be working with Laws today," Paul explained between weakening bursts of chuckles. "Don't let his appearance fool you. He's not as good as me, but he's more than capable."

Laws nodded. "I do a good amount of hunting for the village. Nowadays, it's a bit dangerous to go as far out as I used to, so I need Paul or more bodyguards to fend off any monsters we encounter as we get further out."

"Yeah, those expeditions used to take up the entire day. Sometimes, we had to go pretty deep into the forest to find food. Those trips were always very dangerous." Ah, so that must have been where Paul wandered off to in the periods I didn't see him very often in the past.

"How dangerous was it?" I asked.

Paul's eyes darkened a bit. "Thankfully, we don't have many weird mutations around these parts. It's usually the same monsters as before, just stronger and bigger and a lot more of them." He suddenly frowned before fixing a glare at me. "Oh, don't get any funny ideas, you won't be doing any of that today. Today's job is just a routine patrol around the village. Maybe you'll find a monster or two if you venture a bit further out but nothing Laws can't handle. I do not want either of you doing anything stupid while I'm not around, am I clear?"

Both Laws and I nodded firmly. I had no intention of disobeying Paul's orders. Of course, what I intended to do and what I would end up doing were two entirely different things.

He looked between the two of us, trying to see any signs of falsehood in our face before sighing and relaxing his posture.

Hmm, to make a warrior such as Paul wary, whatever monsters lurked in the darkness of this world must be quite formidable.

"Don't worry, I'll keep him away from any danger. I'll put my life on it if I have to," Laws promised.

"Unnecessary," I interjected, only realizing my mistake when both adults shifted their heads towards me. "You use the bow?" I quickly asked.

Aside from the obvious bow slung over his shoulder, Laws's fingers were calloused, as expected of someone who routinely practiced with weapons, but I noticed that his fingertips were significantly rougher than the rest of his hands, something that could only come from extensive practice from archery. If he was a hunter, then it made sense that Laws used the bow during his hunts for food.

Laws noticed where my eyes were gravitating towards and smirked. "You noticed?" He held up his hand for me to see. As expected, the tips of his thumb, pointer, and middle fingers were substantially more hardened than the rest of his hand due to the bowstring when he was shooting. "I've been using the bow for years now. Happens to every experienced archer. Can't say that Alice is very fond of it though."

I raised an eyebrow. "Why would she complain?" I asked.

Laws lightly coughed. "Don't worry about it," he deflected. "Anyway, you thinking of becoming an archer? You're young, so you'll have plenty of time to try out what kind of weapons you prefer, but having a head start couldn't hurt. I wouldn't mind giving you a few pointers as a way to repay the favor."

I hummed then shook my head. "No thank you. It's just a passing interest." It was passing curiosity, nothing more. I had plenty of idea on how Paul fought, but due to my lack of interactions with anyone else, I had little knowledge anyone else. Delving in his memories was one thing, but hearing it directly from the man was another.

"What's this about a favor?" Paul turned to his friend.

Laws waved him off. "Nothing important. I just wanted to pay Shirou back for helping out Sylphiette. Since it looks like he's shaping to be a fighter like you, helping him out in his training seemed to be an obvious solution."

"It's certainly not a bad idea. You already have swordsmanship down pat—somehow," Paul added with a grumble. "You sure you don't want to branch out to other things? Laws here is actually a pretty good shot. You'll be in good hands, I promise."

I shook my head again. "I like swords," I explained simply.

A slight blush came over both men's' cheeks, and Paul and Laws let out a cough. "Well, whatever you say," Laws said. Suddenly, he snapped his head upwards in realization. "Oh, did you come across Sylphiette by any chance? She said she was going to look for you so you two could play together."

I nodded. "She found me near the forest while I was training."

Paul frowned. "Just make sure you don't go too deep, okay?"

"Of course."

A guilty look flashed across his face, and Paul scratched the back of his head embarrassedly. "Ah, look at me, being such a nag. God, I swore I wouldn't be so strict, and yet here I am."

A hand clasped onto his shoulder, and Paul turned to find Laws giving him an encouraging smile.

"Hey, don't beat yourself up. You're just looking out for him, nothing wrong with that."

Paul gave him an even look before deciding to trust in his words. "Yeah, maybe you're right. It's just I'm a bit late to the whole 'fatherhood' thing, so I don't know what exactly I should be doing or saying."

"Eh, you'll learn," Laws reassured.

Both men discreetly glanced at me, expectant looks in their eyes. I understood their intent, of course, but I was simply trying to find the proper words.

If I said I didn't mind the strictness of his parenting style, then he would only continue it, spurred on by my implicit encouragement. However, restricting my possible moves in the future was not to my benefit, even if it was out of good intentions. On the other hand, telling Paul I found his insistence on controlling me annoying would only serve to possibly drive the man away from me when he was making a genuine attempt to reconcile. The idea of letting such efforts be unfulfilled left a bitter taste in my mouth.

In the end, my contemplation took too long, and Paul looked away, but the crestfallen expression on his face was badly hidden, something that Laws pointedly chose to ignore.

"Anyway, what did you guys end up doing? I'm curious on what Paul's son's idea of fun is," Laws said, the curiosity on his face unashamedly obvious.

I let his words bounce around in my mind. I wasn't sure how much information I should give him. My gut reaction was to keep my answer vague, responding only with half-truths to make sure the man didn't get overly suspicious of Sylphiette and I's true acitvities. However, I remembered that Sylphiette would undoubtedly tell her father of what had transpired earlier today, and I immediately discarded all plans to hide what we were doing.

"We were training," I explained frankly, and almost as soon as the words left my mouth, Laws's eyes narrowed, his mouth tightening to a thin line.

"Training? You really roped in a little girl to whatever you were doing?" Paul asked.

"She asked me to teach her," I shrugged. "I recommended she find another teacher, but she was adamant on choosing me."

"You don't seem particularly happy," Paul noted.

I withheld a sigh. "I feel that it's not appropriate for her to learn such things."

Laws's frown deepened. "Is it because you feel she's too weak?"

I shook my head. "Because she's too innocent. She's just a child," I elaborated.

Laws's eyes burrowed into mine, his stare entirely even throughout the entire time. I did not back down from his gaze, content to let him find whatever he was trying to find.

"Then why didn't you say no?"

I blinked, the question he posed one that I myself struggled to thoroughly answer. A breath passed before I found the words best suited to satisfy both Laws and myself. "Because I have a hard time saying no to her," I said simply. I could not divulge how I empathized with her struggle for strength, so such words were the best I could do.

"Oh?" Paul's lips curved upwards into a small smirk, eyes glimmering with mischief. "Guess you have a soft spot of her, huh?"

"… I suppose," I said hesitantly, unsure if I could even deny the accusation. I turned back towards Laws, whose scrutiny was still present but had lessened in intensity.

The man sighed, closing his eyes as a helpless expression overtook his face. "Honestly… when you put it like that, how could I possibly be mad?"

He placed his hands on his hips, taking a few deep breaths as he regained his composure.

"Wait, what's so bad about this?" Paul asked.

Laws looked at him like he grew a second head. "Maybe because I don't want my daughter to be a training addict? You know that not everyone is like you and Shirou, right?"

Paul held up a finger to retort before he suddenly lost his gusto, letting his hand fall back down to his side. "That's… a good point. But hey, that's not a bad thing!"

Laws gave him an acquiescing nod. "True, but it's not for everyone." The man's head swiveled back towards me again. "Earlier, you said she was just a child. It might be a bit patronizing, but Alice and I both agree with you. She's innocent, as you said, but she's sharper than she lets on. She knows that the world is shitty, but I don't think she knows just how much." His shoulder slumped, the weight of his responsibility aging the man by several years. "We don't have any grand plans for her. I don't need her to be some sort of hero or saint. I just want her to be happy. Sure, eventually Sylphiette is going to outgrow us, but at least for now, I'd like her to just be my little girl, nothing more. I don't want her off training, trying to get stronger. I just want her at home, greeting me with a happy smile when I get back from my hunts or patrols. Call it selfish or whatever you want, but as a father, there's nothing I want more than to keep my family safe and sound."

The man ended his speech there with a deep intake of air, his genuine feelings perhaps something that he needed to get off his chest sooner than now. Paul gave Laws an understanding smile, not disrespecting his friend by mocking the heartfelt confession made by the elven man. Paul's hand fell onto Laws's shoulder, an echo of the gesture from earlier, and the two men shared a small smile before separating.

I frowned, the man's words hitting me particularly hard. His concerns were valid, echoing the same worries I had earlier. Children should be a children, a saying that I was quickly finding myself going back to time and again. I didn't want Sylphiette to lose her smile.

An image flashed across my mind, one of a bloodied girl with a dagger in her heart, and I remembered how she had relied on someone else to save her before, unaware that she had chosen the wrong person to trust.

"Would you like us to stop?"

My decision held little resolve in the first place, something that had plagued me ever since my life had taken a turn for the worst. I could easily have decided that Sylphiette didn't need my help and kept her away from the ugliness of the world. Without a teacher to help foster her talents, then she would have lost her motivation to continue. If she attempted to pursue her conviction by herself, then Laws and Alice could still dissuade her. She valued her parents highly, and ignoring their wishes completely was not something Sylphiette wanted to do.

Laws took a deep breath, mulling over the decision in his mind. "I… I don't think so," he finally said after a period of contemplation. "Maybe this is for the best…"

Laws was capable to pragmatic judgement. He knew that giving her daughter strength had its advantages. Still, I felt for the man. I knew exactly what he feared could happen.

"You can still change your mind. Even if Sylphiette wants to train, you can be her guide. I don't need to be the one to teach her," I suggested. Even if it didn't completely satisfy his wishes, Laws could at least spend a bit more time with his daughter.

However, the man shook his head at my proposal. "Sylphiette chose you. Even if she knew that I would say no, she would probably have tried anyway if she actually wanted me. The fact that she went straight to you tells me all I need to know. Besides, she made her choice, and I can't deny it holds some merit. At the very least, I'll respect her decision."

Choice.

I swirled the word around in my mouth like an exotic fruit, imagining its taste on my tastebuds. In the end, I spit it back out, unsure what to make of its flavor—whether it was something to be savored or discarded.

Understanding that the man had begrudgingly chosen his stance, I turned towards Paul.

"Don't look at me," Paul interrupted, my mouth having only just opened. "You made your bed, now you have to lay in it. A man takes responsibility for his actions."

Ah, well it was to be expected. Contrary to his questionable nature, Paul was very much a proponent for accountability according to his own words, and I haven't found enough evidence to think otherwise.

"I'm concerned that with two adults here, it's me who is questioning the validity of having a four-year-old training a child," I pointed out.

Paul stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Well, they say that the best way to master something is to teach it to another person. There's not much I can really teach you," Paul grumbled, "but maybe teaching a complete beginner can show you some new things."

"Sometimes a fresh perspective is best," Laws added with a sagely nod of his head.

I let out a doubtful hum, not entirely convinced of their arguments and only mildly perplexed at how I was the only one seeing what was wrong with the situation, but at this point, I had already made too many promises to stop—perhaps a lingering habit from my past life.

"Hmm, it's about time," Paul noted, eyeing the sun overhead. However, sunlight was slowly beginning to ebb away, the sun having started its descent back under the horizon. "Remember, you're patrolling the village from now to a few hours into the evening. After that, you can swap with the overnight guards. It's the same as we've always done." Of course, the words weren't meant for either Laws or I, but more as reassurance for Paul himself, though we had the tact to not comment on it.

"Well, if that's all…" Laws let his words linger in the air for a few moments, but after seeing that no one spoke up, he decided to to turn around and head back towards the main village road.

I made to follow him but sensed something was missing and abruptly stopped in my tracks. I looked over my shoulder, seeing the tall knightly man seeing us off with a complicated expression. I paused, then with a slow, hesitant dip of my head, I gave Paul a singular, curt nod. His eyes widened in surprise, his features twisting in surprise before realization set in and his face settled into a small, satisfied smirk. He returned the gesture, giving me a firm nod before he turned around and disappeared inside his house.

I watched the door close behind him before spinning on my heels, slightly jogging to catch up to Laws. The elven man was waiting for me, and judging from his expression, he had seen the exchange. However, he remained silent, offering me nothing more than a pensive look before he continued walking down the path.

---

The sound of the door closing brought Paul no small sense of relief. Perhaps it was the fact that the sturdy wooden barrier separated him from the outside, and in turn, arguably the largest source of his worries. With him out there, Paul did not have to worry about how he came off as. He didn't have to worry about how the expression on his face looked to others—whether he looked too angry and unapproachable or maybe not serious and firm enough or even overly so. He also didn't have to fret over his words and if he was offending others somehow. Words were easily misinterpreted, and even if that wasn't the case, sometimes the wrong things slipped out of his mouth, his tongue perhaps a bit quicker than his wit.

Paul was quite used to the lingering taste of regret. For someone like him, being able to change his image to other people was not a skill that came naturally. His talents were far more suited towards combat and violence, not social finesse. His skills laid in the act of stabbing or slicing or bludgeoning things repeatedly until they died, not the gentle and graceful art of—he shuddered—communication.

He shuffled to the side, bracing himself flat against the wall before moving his head until he could see just a sliver of the outside through the window. The small boy he called his son was walking away, catching up to Laws.

Taking in a greedy gulp of air, he walked away from the window, pausing for a moment to try and calm himself down, the beating of his heart against his chest made him afraid it was about to explode.

The irony that it was the confines of this house, the very ones that he had hated so vehemently in the past, that were now assuaging his worries was not lost to him.

"Damn, I can't believe this is my life now," Paul bemoaned to himself. This sort of issue was not something he would have dealt with or fussed over when he was younger. However, Paul knew that he lived in a cruel reality, and as times changed, so did he. His efforts today and yesterday were proof of that.

No, he couldn't afford to tackle everything like he had in the past. Such recklessness was what had gotten him into his current predicament in the first place, and he wasn't keen on making the same mistake twice.

He had to stick to his promise, picking up the pieces of fatherhood he had carelessly thrown to the wayside so long ago. After all, he wasn't sure if there was any redemption if he failed now. He had already fucked up everything he had sought to build, and it was a miracle he was getting a second chance. He was on thin ice, a fact Paul knew all too well and was the driving reason for his caution.

Paul sighed. As tiring as this level of mindfulness was, he wouldn't be free of it any time soon. After all, despite the fact that Shirou had left, his worries did not entirely leave with him. Of course, there was the nugget of concern that bit at the back of his mind, a trait that any parent shared with him.

The rational part of him knew that there was nothing to fear. Not only had he already scouted the surrounding area and the patrol route they would be going personally beforehand many times and just a few days ago, but Paul had sent Laws with him. Laws wasn't a clear-cut warrior, having trained more as a hunter than anything else, but the perilous times they lived in nowadays had necessitated training on a more combative level. It was not only Laws that had received such training from Paul himself, his status and training as a knight and adventurer making him more qualified than anyone else nearby, but also every capable male in the village. Being able to muster a significant portion of the village's population into a capable fighting force at any time was important for any possible monster attacks or bandit raids. Thankfully, nothing such had happened since he had settled in this village, but he had heard plenty of reports from the supply and merchant caravans that stopped by occasionally about the settlements that were wiped out or looted overnight. When Paul had been told such tales, he had decided that Buena Village would not be joining those stories if he had any say in it.

Not to mention, he was confident that Shirou was more than capable of handling himself. Judging from the spar from yesterday and the display of skill earlier today, Paul was certain that Shirou was easily on par with a seasoned adventurer in terms of pure combat ability, and he could give any knight the most interesting fight for their lives. After all, being able to keep up with Paul of all people meant he was already in the running for among the strongest. The number of people who could give Paul a good fight, never mind win, were few and far between, their strength beyond something normal humans could obtain.

So yes, the boy—a child barely to his waist—was strong, strangely so. Still, a parent, even one as bad as Paul, could not help but worry for his safety.

Frankly, as fitting as it was that his talent for swordsmanship had been passed along, the degree of it was surprising, almost frighteningly so. It was… abnormal to say the least.

Then again, it was easier to note what wasn't peculiar when it came to him. After all, Paul himself had raised such concerns to Zenith years ago, pointing out his odd mannerisms and dissimilar appearance, but his wife had—unsurprisingly—remained staunch in her stance.

It was funny looking back on it now, seeing how their roles had almost reversed.

Paul sighed before dragging himself deeper into his house. He tried to ignore how he cringed as he stepped onto the stairs, his weight causing the wood to creak and announce his presence to the two people upstairs—if they hadn't already.

As expected, he heard the door to the master bedroom opened, and a few more steps took him to the top of the staircase, face to face with Lilia.

"How is she?" he asked.

"Lady Zenith is still in the process of recovering. Her condition is improving, but it would be beneficial for her to avoid any stressful situations if possible." The maid pointedly looked at him, and Paul felt a bit sheepish underneath her gaze.

"I'll try. She wanted to talk anyway."

Lilia held his eyes for a few moments longer, weighing the truthfulness of his statement. However, she looked away first, peeling away from him stare in an almost flippant manner. "If Lady Zenith wishes it, then I cannot deny her." She let her words hang in the air before giving him a small bow before brushing past him, descending the stairs and out of his sight.

The exchange was over as soon as it started, the abruptness of it almost giving Paul whiplash. Not that it surprised him, of course. Putting aside their rather—ahem—regrettable history, the woman had plenty of reason to resent him. However, she was far too dutiful and professional to ever explicitly show her displeasure, leading to the current tension between them now.

To the passing eye, the maid was simply polite and curt, never crossing the boundary between them as expected of employer and employee. However, Paul was no fool, and the air near her was just a bit too frigid for it to be simple professionalism.

If he had to guess, the cause of her frosty demeanor was not due to the unfortunate decisions he made in the past, but rather the rather strained relationship between him and Zenith. He would have been blind to not have noticed the growing friendship between her and Zenith over the past few years, a trend that Paul was not quite sure how he felt considering the rather complicated emotions he felt towards either woman. As any good friend would do, Lilia was probably reluctant to show any friendliness towards him if Zenith didn't entirely approve of him.

Not that he expected any in the first place. He nearly had a heart attack when she first showed up at his doorstep all those years ago, and the implication of blackmail had been the only reason he had been able to make a decision despite the confusion clouding his mind back then. The unspoken threat was a proverbial sword against his neck all these years, something that caused him no small amount of stress.

Their earlier interaction this morning was a surprise. She had not joked around with him before, and the atmosphere was—dare he say it—almost comfortable between them. Of course, he knew that it was all a lie, nothing more than a front to try and fool Shirou, who did not deserve to get caught up in their drama. However, the kid was smart—smarter than what was good for him—and he probably already caught on.

She had a soft spot for him, Paul noticed. The eyes that had been almost hard and accusatory—much like his own had been at the time—had softened over the years, and the constant edge in her disposition had diminished as well. Of course, the signs were still there, Shirou tending to have that effect on everyone,

All in all, the fact that there was no lost love between them and the tension between him and what might as well be her best friend amounted to the present situation—a complicated, anxiety-ridden mess.

And now he was about to step into an even worse one.

Paul moved forward, prying his eyes away from the downstairs where Lilia had disappeared to and looking at where she had come from. The slightly ajar door might as well have been an invitation, but it was an opportunity he was hesitant to take. The past few days have been a tumultuous, chaotic blur, and what he was about to do wasn't going to help matters in the slightest. However, it seemed that he had not been the only one hiding secrets.

Whether Paul wanted it or not, circumstances were developing faster than he could sit down and think things through. He didn't have the luxury of time anymore. He could feel it; things were going to be changing rapidly soon. It had only been a small spark, but even the faintest of embers could ignite into an inferno.

Perhaps that is why Zenith made her move now, and why he was entertaining this in the first place. If he was going to be swept up in the winds of fate, at least he would have some say in it. Better to try and change things himself than drown in self-pity.

Paul stood in front of the door, a hand resting on its surface and was about to push it open before he thought better of it, instead softly knocking his knuckles twice against the door.

"Come in," a frail voice softly called out from inside the room.

He slowly opened the door, quietly entering the room. Paul wasn't a complete asshole, and despite the… issues they were undergoing through, Zenith was still his wife. He would show her the consideration he had omitted in the past, though he doubted it would change anything now.

Zenith was in the same position he had left her in earlier this morning. She was sitting upright on the bed, the blankets pulled to her waist and a tray of soup and apple slices sitting on the bedside table. However, Paul could tell that it was barely touched, the bowl still full and only a few slices missing. Her head was turned away, her attention fixated towards the window next to her.

Paul stepped further into the room until he was standing almost at the foot of the bed. Only then did Zenith's head twist, glassy blue eyes moving from the view of the outside to regard him.

She was a mess, that much was obvious. Her hair was frayed and untidy, looking more like a nest for insects than the curtain of sunlight he had flirtatiously described it as to her. It was more akin to moss with the way sweat-ridden clumps clung to her skin. Her eyes were bloodshot, the effect only exacerbated by the dark bags sagging underneath them. They were the eyes of a prisoner, the unending pools of azure that had pulled him in before telling the story of someone trapped in a cage, beaten down and dragged through hell until thoughts of escape no longer existed.

It was his greatest regret that he had not been able to notice the poor state he had helped contribute to until it was far too late.

"… Is he gone?" Zenith softly uttered. It was an interesting game she was playing, not trusting herself to specify just who she was referring to, but Paul could hazard a guess on who it was.

"Yup. He only stopped by briefly so I could give him the rundown for tonight," Paul explained.

He watched her expression carefully, noting how her face twisted from relief to disappointment, then to dread and everything in between. It was a curious thing—how he could tell almost exactly what she was feeling yet at the same time be completely ignorant to what was going on in her mind. Emotions were a hard concept to truly understand. After all, he had felt—and still felt—the same.

"… I see," she said simply, trying hard to disguise the slight tremble in her voice. "You're… you're sure this is a good idea?"

"Yes," Paul answered. "He's a natural fighter. You can't stop him. If I put an end to it, then he's just going to rebel and act up. Trust me, I was the same way before."

"And you think sending him out there is any better?"

He nodded. "It gives him something to focus on," he explained. "It will give him an outlet for his energy. Besides, if he wants to act like an adult, then he can have a few responsibilities like one."

"He's four-years-old, Paul."

"I started young too," he shrugged. "Besides, you and I both know that he's more than what meets the eye."

Zenith frowned but didn't say anything. He could see the conflict in her eyes, the logic of his words bringing her just a bit of much-needed clarity. However, she wasn't completely convinced, not yet at least.

"Still though, you don't know what could happen out there," she retorted.

"True," he conceded, "but you shouldn't underestimate your son." He didn't miss how she winced at that word. "The monsters around here aren't that strong, and Laws won't take him out very far. He'll be fine." Of course, it wasn't that he didn't understand her worries. He was the same, but he couldn't afford to show it.

"I.. I don't know," Zenith said after a pause, not persuaded but not having enough fight within her to argue otherwise.

He waved his hand dismissively. "It'll be fine," he reassured. Paul stepped back a few steps before closing the door behind him. Zenith's eyes narrowed at the gesture before turning back to him. He walked to the window she was fond of staring out of and opened it. The gentle afternoon breeze swept into the room, the cool air pleasantly brushing against his skin. "You should really keep this open. Maybe some fresh air will help you feel better," he suggested.

Zenith scoffed. "Enough games, Paul. What do you want?"

Ah, she caught on. He never was good at that, trying to hide his intentions. He had wanted to slowly ease the conversation into direction, but he showed too much of his hand. Oh well, it didn't matter. They were already talking about him anyway.

"Earlier… what you told me…" he started. Immediately, he could see Zenith tense, her shoulders squaring and jaw clenching. Azure orbs hardened, and despite her sickly and haggard appearance, Zenith's displeasure wasn't any less intimidating.

"I told you to forget about that," she said with scowl. Paul internally sighed, wondering not for the first time if this course of action was truly the best idea.

Well, nothing was ever solved by doing nothing.

"That's not it works, Zenith. I can't simply 'forget' what you said," he responded. His voice was firm but cool and steady. Despite his temperament, he would need to be the calm mediator here. If this conversation turned into a screaming match with fingers pointing at each other, then any hope of resolving the issue would be dead. No matter what happened, he couldn't have a repeat of that night all those years before.

"Well, make it work, Paul," she huffed, the aggravation clear on her face.

"She's just stressed," he told himself, pushing down the smoldering urge to retaliate that simmered within him.

Her demeanor was different from before. There had been hints that what had happened yesterday had been affecting her, but he could not possible have predicted that the aftermath would have resulted in this shift in behavior.

Earlier, when Paul had returned to the house after learning of Zenith's illness, he had walked into her room to gauge her condition. She was much like she was now, exhausted and irate, and his attempts to calm her had only led to more friction between them. Words had been thrown at him, and he had tried his best to weather the storm. In the midst of scathing remarks and thinly veiled accusations, he had wondered if, all those years ago, Zenith had felt the same as he had felt earlier.

It was a strange feeling, seeing the face of someone whose image was practically engraved into his mind but unable to truly recognize them. In that moment, her visage brought only with it a sense of alienation and foreignness, an impenetrable haze of unfamiliarity that clashed with the vivid tapestry of heartfelt memories they had woven together all these years.

If the sinking pit in his stomach was how she had felt, then he could have apologized to her a thousand times over and his repentance would still not be finished.

"Sorry, I can't do that," he shook his head at her. "I… I want to fix things. And if I want to do that, then I can't ignore anything." Each word was like pulling blood from stone, the unsteady words of a man who was never any good from them but vowed to try anyway. As fragile as his voice was, the resolve behind his words was undeniable.

Zenith's glare wilted slightly. "I… I don't even know if things can even be fixed anymore." The woman leaned back, resting against the headboard of the bed as she visibly deflated. "You can put all the pieces together again, but things can't go back to the way they were," she said quietly, defeatism laced within her voice.

He had said similar words back then too. To have them thrown back at him might as well have been a slap to his face.

But that was fine. They were going around in circles, he noticed. If the conversation continued on like this, then matters wouldn't be resolved.

"I'm sorry. I never believed you all the way back then. And I didn't entirely believe you earlier."

That caught Zenith's attention. The woman perked up, her head snapping towards me fast enough to almost give her whiplash. Her eyes, wide and disbelieving, were trembling.

Surprise.

Fear.

Paranoia.

Anxiety.

Paul may not have been the most astute of people, but within those tumultuous orbs, he could see all those emotions and more. However, past all the turbulence and chaos, he also saw something else.

Pleading desperation.

And with that, Paul knew exactly what he had to do.

He had reached out his hand to her that day. It was the defining moment of their relationship, the foundation upon which their marriage had been built upon.

He had betrayed the trust before. He would not make that mistake again.

"Tell me more about these dreams you've been having."

It was up to him to take the first step forward once again.

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A/N: Next chapter is in a few days. As of this moment, the current chapter is about 26k words long, and I'm not sure when its actual end is, so I've decided to split up the chapter for now to at least get something out there. This conversation between Zenith and Paul is a good enough beat to end things off on. As things currently are, next chapter is Laws and Shirou's trek through the forest, which should be… interesting… I'm not sure people know how much I glaze my favorite sword boy, which makes these concerns about him being too weak slightly confusing. Anyway, prepare yourself for some really edgy writing. Oh, and Roxy may or may not be in that chapter.

On another note, I'm not sure how I feel about the training session stuff in this chapter. One part of me feels like it makes sense, and the other part of me feels that having two four-year-olds trying to hit each other is more comical than anything else. Of course, Sylphiette isn't really doing any hitting, and the scene was especially painful to write since it's mainly about Shirou's thoughts with the fight itself in the background. Let me know how you guys feel about it—I can always edit it later.

Also I'm running out of metaphors for eyes. If anyone has any ideas, let me know.

As always, thank you all for reading, and please consider leaving a review and rating. Any feedback helps to get these chapters out faster!