In an empty cabin on an idling double-decker train in Ludwigshafen, Shirou Emiya flicked his book shut.
The book he was rereading—for the lack of anything better to do—was purchased from a bookstore whose presence in the train station somewhere back in France felt nothing short of perfunctory. He couldn't quite remember why he'd bought it. He had been at a train station. He had some time before the next train. The blurb indicated that it was about a man obsessed with train stations on a journey of his own.
In retrospect, the description felt woefully inadequate.
He checked his watch.
Five minutes left.
Unperturbed, he reached for the pamphlet on the side pouch of his seat.
Baden-Baden: a famous spa town just an hour away from Ludwigshafen by train.
If this pamphlet was to be believed, it had the highest density of highly-rated restaurants in Germany to accompany its thermal baths and what was purported to be quite the famous casino.
He smiled ruefully, memories of a particular time in Monaco resurfacing, unbidden.
Once was quite enough.
As he flicked through the descriptions of the rejuvenating qualities of the town's famous baths, he heard the pneumatic door open with a hiss, and then footfalls – long strides, heels clicking hard and precise like the sounds a faithful blacksmith makes early in the morning.
He did not look up as the newcomer sat down opposite him, pretending to be wholly invested in the pamplet's description of the town's cobblestone streets and boutique shops, conveniently avoiding Orimura Chifuyu's intense laser-glare of death.
Shirou did his best not to frown.
This had been inconvenient.
It was bad enough that she witnessed his magecraft. The fact that she had managed to keep up with him at all indicated she wasn't normal. And amidst the frenzy of battle, it had come out that she had connections to the Shinonono Tabane, accusing him of taking her friend hostage.
How she arrived at that conclusion was a matter for another time.
In any case, the existence of that IS hangar and whatever was being conducted there had become secondary to him the moment that he came across the possibility of Tabane might have been attempting something greater.
The chain of events that led them here, on an early-morning train out of town, was certainly bizarre, though.
He had been laying low at a nearby restaurant he'd worked in the day he arrived in Ludwigshafen, being paid under-the-table by the manager more than happy to look the other way. He would have left the country the moment that he had been discovered, ideally, but recent revelations concerning that woman forced him to stay in the area until he could uncover more, or at least press her to keep his abilities to herself. The last thing he needed was for him to have inadvertently brought magecraft to Tabane's attention. Who knows what the madwoman would do then.
Shirou was in the middle of mulling over the best course of action when that same woman had stormed in, in the middle of the dinner rush, full of righteous indignation and fury.
She had found him faster than he would have liked; woks in hand, preparing five portions of yakisoba-pan at once, he had thought it in his best interest to play dumb, especially in front of all those other people. Or at least, make it difficult for this woman to get a straight answer out of him. That was easy enough. Being polite yet obstructive at the same time was something of an art form people like him mastered a long time ago. It started with doing nothing as she was firmly escorted outside to the back of the line, then it went on to pretending nothing was amiss as she glared at him from the counter seat as he worked, and ended with him perking his ears up when several patrons recognized her with awe.
Chifuyu Orimura.
Brunhilde.
It didn't ring a bell for him, but being recognized seemed to have put the woman in a worse mood – though it did little to curb her appetite – that in the end, as the last order was taken, and the kitchen shut down, he told her to wait outside by the back door.
She'd asked if he was looking for more trouble, staying in the city despite her explicit warnings to leave. He had explained that he was of the opinion that there were issues that had to be addressed, sure she'd agree. That was enough to get her going all over again: apparently breaking into a paramilitary base did not, in fact, give him the moral high ground at all, nevermind what he was trying to do. It was as he attempted to defend himself that the two of them realised where they were – a back alley, some disinterested chef smoking a cigarette some hundred yards away – and collectively agreed this wasn't the time or place.
He had asked for an honest and straightforward discussion with him—to "cut the bullshit", as she had put it—and offered to answer her own questions if she finally gave one to his.
She agreed, but they both thought it prudent to conduct their conversation away from prying eyes. Notably, the military base where she was working had its hands deep in the pocket of the nearby area, so they agreed to meet on the first train out of town on Sunday, her only day off. Hence Baden-Baden.
It seemed promising enough. They'd stop by an unassuming cafe and grab lunch. Maybe have a slice of Black Forest by the Black Forest. No need to seem too shady here. It was a popular destination for tourists looking for a getaway, so they'd be sure to find something amongst the romanticism of the town's streets.
Shirou blinked.
His thoughts were put on hold for a moment as the train rumbled to life. He shot Orimura an uncertain glance, which she returned, though hers was certainly backed by a different tangent than his own.
This wasn't a date, was it?
X
X
"I've narrowed it down to either natural stone or porcelain. What do you think?"
Chifuyu watched her husband with a mild frown as he crouched over two tile samples, observing both quite intently. One was blackish-grey. One was white and streaked with black. Shirou ran a palm through them both, examining them with the same intensity he reserved for purchasing watermelons.
"... I think they're tiles." She finally said.
Her husband snorted. "Very well spotted."
"I'm not trying to be funny." She hurriedly added. "If it's a matter of aesthetics, I think you'd know I prefer the black one, but… at the end of the day, they're tiles."
"It's not just aesthetics." He reminded her. "There's the feel of it. There's the matter of ease of cleaning. There's also the matter of how easily each one retains heat, which is why we're here in the first place."
Chifuyu's eyes narrowed.
She was worried about him.
Shirou was a fairly open person, usually. It made their relationship and marriage a breeze. Oftentimes, though, when something that he couldn't put into words was bothering him, he liked to keep his hands busy. It was as if he had to feel like he was doing something about the matter. Like now, whenever he stopped by the home improvement store to supply a project that "he just had a mind to do", she was given reason to believe that something was wrong.
As much as he denied any causation or correlation, it was just one of her husband's habits she'd learned to look out for over the years.
They had a hand-crafted "imitation Noguchi coffee table" sitting in their living room since last year. She didn't know what the fuck that meant, obviously, but Shirou was more than happy to fill in the blanks as he explained his "sudden inspiration" to throw the thing together over the course of a weekend, which coincidentally, was just a few days after an argument— a disagreement, more like—that they'd had over something or other that she remembered less than the outcome.
The woman looked over to their cart. Radiant heat mats, grout, fresh tiles, mortar…
The size of the project tended to scale with his annoyance. She wasn't much of a handyman herself, but even she knew that him installing heated bathroom floors in the fucking summer wasn't a small job.
"While we're on the topic of why we're here in the first place, is there a reason to renovate the bathroom right now?" she mustered the energy to ask, hoping to prod further.
He cranked his head up to look at her.
"Well, you kept mentioning that our bathroom floor gets uncomfortable in the colder months, so…"
She did remember complaining about that, but he had the audacity to trail off as though what he was saying was perfectly reasonable.
"One would just buy a mat, normally," she offered helpfully.
He didn't say anything in reply. He knew he was being strange about it too.
She gently rubbed the side of his arm with her pinky finger.
"Are you mad at me for not telling you things sooner? We can talk it through like adults, you know. Any more and I fear you'll start building a balcony to our room."
"That's harder to do." He shook his head. "We'd need a permit and galvanised square steel."
"You know what I mean."
He sighed and straightened up, taking note of the serial number of whatever tile he had decided on.
"I'm not angry, Chifuyu." He finally said. "I trust you, and I know you're doing what you think is best."
"Shirou."
She wasn't buying it.
After a moment longer, he admitted, "I am annoyed. And worried."
"Then—!"
"But not about the attack." Her husband's face was blank. "It's the other thing you mentioned."
She stopped herself before she could say anything else.
She understood.
That was an entirely different can of worms.
The pair went about their shopping and made quick work of what little there was left to do. The silence weighed on her much less as they rolled the cart toward the cashier.
"Hey, Fella," greeted the cashier, recognizing her husband. Shirou certainly came here often enough. "Nice to see you swing by. This the missus?"
"Yo, Nakata," Shirou returned the greeting. "This is Chifuyu."
It took her half a second longer than she would have liked to recognize that she had been spoken to.
"Oh, uh. Yes. Hello."
For what she was sure could be attributed to a number or reasons, she was rarely recognized around places like these. She'd rather be thankful for the peace that it gave her than start questioning why.
The cashier smiled kindly.
"Nice to meet you! For however much your husband swings by, I'm surprised this is the first I've seen of you!"
"Ah, well…"
She didn't mean to trail off; intrusive thoughts cut off whatever she was going to say.
Surely it wasn't that rare for her to help out with her husband's affairs.
X
X
The old town within Baden-Baden had remained relatively unscathed through the World War, and it showed. Cobblestone streets, old-timey architecture and splendour, fountains and greenery here and there, it very much fit the bill of a stereotypical German town, unlike the overwhelming industrial quality of Ludwigshafen.
The unlikely pair continued their saunter through the town centre, soaking in the sights of the old town with coffees in hand—his treat. Their relaxed dispositions failed to convey the underlying tensions that still needed to be addressed, but to anyone who chanced upon them, they looked nothing more than tourists. Polite tourists.
Sipping away at an americano, Shirou noticed Orimura staring intently at the side of his head. Not in the accusatory fashion he had slowly grown used to, but more like she was trying to solve a puzzle. Not seeing the point of ignoring it since they were here in the spirit of being communicative in the first place, he felt that he might as well ask.
"There's something you really want to ask me. Feel free to break the ice."
"I don't know if it's worth asking," she muttered. "It's probably less important, in the grand scheme of things."
Shirou chuckled, which she visibly didn't appreciate.
"It's not like anything's worth hiding at this point, considering our last meeting," he mused. "You might as well."
They made it to the end of the block before she figured that he was more or less honest about that part, at the very least.
"When I found you at the restaurant," she started with a deepened frown, "you were the only one not to recognize me on the spot. If you're some sort of spy, you're not a very well-informed one."
Shirou blinked before scoffing. Of all the things to begin with…
Was she reticent about asking a bad question or was she just scared to sound self-absorbed?
"... I apologise to the great Mondo Grosso Champion for not recognizing her in all of her glory."
"You—!"
"Save it." Shirou muttered. "To answer your question, I don't follow that sort of thing. That's all there is to it."
She wasn't about to take such a flippant answer lying down.
"Bullshit," she bit back. "You broke into an IS paddock!"
He hummed thoughtfully, then wore his recognition with a little more showiness than it perhaps deserved.
"Ah, right!" he exclaimed, careful not to spill his beverage despite his animated shoulder movements. "The paramilitary base with all the child soldiers."
To his immense satisfaction, she whipped her head away.
"I thought I made myself clear that there's an explanation for that."
"Oh, I'm sure there is."
She stopped in her tracks. He was forced to do the same and looked back at her expectantly.
"Don't think I'll let you dodge my question with a tangent. I thought we agreed to be straightforward with each other. Don't forget who has the upper hand here; I'm being generous."
"The upper hand?" He repeated, indignant. "It doesn't seem that way, from my point of view."
"You'd have been in prison if I decided to raise the alarm." She reminded him.
"Like I would have given you the chance." He shook his head. "I put you on the back foot."
"The fuck you did." She growled. "I went easy on you."
"I was holding back, too." He insisted.
"Need I remind you I could have waited for you in that hangar with an IS?"
"You could have." He agreed. "I'm sure your superiors would be deeply touched to find you defending their pre-pubescent paramilitary force with such aplomb."
Her body language took a negative shift. Before anything could happen, he stringed along a continuation to his thought.
"But to answer your question, it's the Mondo Grosso itself that I take offence to. Not the Infinite Stratos system. The idea of using a weapon that stands neck and neck with the atomic bomb the same way an athlete uses a pair of sneakers just doesn't sit right with me."
Orimura looked visibly stricken. And upset. Mostly that second one.
"That's not—" She bit her cheek and tossed her empty paper cup in a nearby bin. Shirou thought it to be an excuse for her to not look him in the eye. "It's not just a game. It's because of the IS being an absolute power that the Mondo Grosso needs to exist. We're all sons of bitches that won't let conflict be a thing of the past whether it's acceptable or not, so it's better to channel that energy through sport—to let world powers air out their dirty laundry in a game—than to let it be something that takes human lives."
"Right." He pretended to give it some thought. "So it's a global pissing contest."
Surprisingly, it was this that made the woman looked truly incensed. "What's your problem?"
"Again." He repeated. "IS. Atomic Bomb. I thought I'd made my position clear."
"They're not in the same ballpark and you know it. You're being deliberately…" The words failed her, in her anger.
Shirou watched the woman struggle for a moment before he sighed.
"I must say, you're making a bigger deal out of this than I expected."
Orimura frowned, before looking away.
"I guess…" She mulled it over. "I guess it's one of the only choices I've made of my own volition that I can unreservedly say I'm proud of, that I don't regret."
Shirou hummed.
He could empathise with that much, at least.
Not that it made him any less annoyed with her.
"Just as well. Your friend created the single most dangerous weapons system in the history of the world, and you decided to use it to be an athlete for a sport I fundamentally object to. There's little more to it than that."
Him mentioning Shinonono didn't get a rise out of her at all. Rather—
"I'm sorry," she spat. "Tabane strong-armed the world out of armed conflict in near totality. In what universe is all that other crap more important? What, are you mad that it's harder for you to start shit now?"
Despite them speaking a totally different language, the slowly rising aggression was enough to make passersby feel uncomfortable. They were being given a wide berth as Shirou took his turn to look indignant.
"Of course not! I'm not—"
"You broke into a high-security base in fucking Germany over some baseless rumour that you heard who-knows-where. You were trying to start shit, shit-starter."
The childish name-calling did get under his skin, he was ashamed to admit. He couldn't help his eyebrow twitching in annoyance.
"There were definitely child soldiers."
She let out an exasperated sigh and slumped her shoulders.
"This again?" she groaned. "No one was kidnapped. They've been developed for this singular purpose from the moment they—" she stopped, frowning, before continuing, "They're not being mistreated; they're being taken care of. Basically."
"Basically," he repeated flatly, crossing his arms. "Don't skirt around it. Them being test tube babies doesn't make it any less wrong."
For whatever reason, it looked like that was the jab that pissed her off the most. It was the only one she didn't deign to clap back to, for reasons beyond him.
Freed from her empty coffee cup, Orimura kept walking. Her pace was a little more hurried than earlier, however.
"I can't have this conversation again. It's not my problem to care about the ethics of all this. I made a deal. It's just a job. Anything happens to them, it's my ass on the line, not yours." She muttered darkly. "And I sure as hell won't let my efforts go to waste because some irresponsible, reckless idiot poked his nose where he shouldn't."
Was that some kind of threat? He didn't feel threatened nearly enough to take it that way.
"What, do you want me to apologise?" he asked with little to no intent to be found in his words.
"You wouldn't mean it." She scoffed. "But I wish you'd get it through your thick skull that it's not your problem either."
Shirou blinked, a little nonplussed as he watched her march up the hill.
Sighing, he drained the rest of his coffee before shaking his head at her back and following suit.
X
X
The Seaside Academy trip was coming up. The students would be taken to a coastline and ryokan by the mountains entirely rented out by the school to practise mobilisation exercises and open-air manoeuvres, but the first day was usually a freebie given to the students for some much needed R&R.
Though she figured she needed it more than they did.
Within the womenswear section of the nearby Takashimaya, Chifuyu rifled through the clothes rack, searching for a new bathing suit for the occasion. Easily eliminating the floral prints and the lurid colours, she quickly decided on a simple black two-piece as was content to call it a day when she stopped.
A white – though the tag referred to it as cosmic latte – two-piece hung idly at the very end of the pile.
Frowning, she removed it from the rack, face unreadable as she gave it a closer inspection.
The feeling that she'd been fighting down since the day began was bubbling gently once more.
She turned to look at her husband, hunched on a nearby plush bench, doing his best to appear unassuming as he scribbled away in his notepad.
… Fuck it.
Keeping her face carefully blank, she took the two articles of clothing with her and marched towards her husband.
"Shirou."
He looked up, blinking. "Oh. You're done? Come on, let's just go pay–"
She held the two pieces up. "Which do you prefer?"
Shirou froze.
Chifuyu forced herself to not look away.
Flummoxed, his eyes flitted between the two different bikinis, then back at her.
"You're asking for my opinion." He clarified.
"Yes."
He blinked rapidly.
"On clothes?"
"Are you done stating the obvious?" She muttered.
Chifuyu understood her husband's confusion. This wasn't one of those things that she felt the need to consult him about. Why would she? It wasn't that he didn't care, or that she didn't value his opinion, it was just… trivial. They were both able to take care of themselves.
Today, however, she was seized by the sudden, wholly unnecessary urge to ask.
Eventually, Shirou gave an appraising glance towards the two choices.
"... The black one looks a little familiar." He noted.
Chifuyu snorted, cheeks slightly pink. "Is that a point in its favour, or?"
"I don't know." Shirou tilted his head, amused. "You're wearing it on a school trip. I'm not sure how I feel about other people having an idea of what you look like when we're…" He gestured vaguely, "...you know."
She hit him lightly. "Idiot. Those 'other people' are my students, and they're all girls, besides Ichika, of course. It's not like anyone else would be able to…"
Her voice trailed off as her husband turned moody all of a sudden.
Ah. Right.
To say that no one else would be there wasn't quite true, now, was it?
Apparently, finding herself useless as her partner Laura Bodewig duked it out with Ichika and Charles during the tag-team tournament was the last straw for one Houki Shinonono…
No, maybe it was the revelation that Houki had ceded her roommate privileges with Ichika not to a 'Charles', as she assumed, but a 'Charlotte'.
No, it could also have been Bodewig bursting into class, private IS deployed, declaring Ichika to be her wife, and kissing him in front of everyone in class.
…
Yeah. It was probably the last one.
Perhaps sensing that she was not performing up to her fullest potential—and that everyone else in Ichika's immediate orbit had one—Houki Shinonono had cornered her after class asking if she could make a call to her sister to build her her own, personal IS unit, like she did for Ichika.
When asked why she didn't just call her herself, Houki had mumbled something about how it pained her to have to swallow her pride and ask her sister for help—especially for this—and that she would be smug for weeks, and that 'dealing with her was exhausting' – as if it would be any less exhausting were Chifuyu to step in for her—and pleaded, bowing 90 degrees for Chifuyu to handle it on her behalf.
Predictably, Shinonono Tabane was delighted, immediately deducing the nature of her call and agreeing to have the machine she'd prepared for years delivered during the beach trip. Amidst her promises that it was the most advanced IS in the world – fourth generation, the first of its kind – she declared that she was going to present it to Houki herself.
It was the news that Shinonono Tabane was going to make contact with Chifuyu once more that had put Shirou in such an anxious mood.
She sighed.
Her husband had never liked Tabane. It was an understandable reaction. She knew her better than anyone—and was probably the only person that could call her a friend—but Tabane was overbearing. Eccentric. Self-centred. Flashy. Unbearably grating.
In other words, the diametric opposite of her husband.
After so many years, she had learned that her husband was not so superficial a man to dislike someone just because of a loud personality. Those surface qualities were not enough for him to loathe someone as much as he did Tabane. It was something deeper. That hatred existed on a fundamental level. They were intrinsically opposed in a fashion that could only label them as nemeses.
And here she was, stuck in the middle of it all.
Wordlessly, she sat down beside him on the plush bench.
What could she even say to spare his feelings here? They would never get along—she'd long given up on that front—but she couldn't avoid contact with Tabane forever just because Shirou thought she was the extreme equivalent of a child running with scissors. Chifuyu would easily admit that Tabane was anything but a safe person to be around, but she could handle it. The fact of the matter was, Tabane was going to show up to surprise her sister. There was no working around that, and whatever shenanigans her charges were subject to as a result of her presence were dangers that she would deal with when the time came.
Chifuyu twiddled her thumbs.
"Tabane is my friend, Shirou."
Such a simple thing, yet it stumped him for a good few seconds. Luckily, there was no one else in the aisle to see them go through their moment of vulnerability.
"You suffer her company most of the time," he pointed out, perhaps a little defensively. "Are you even happy whenever you see her?"
She lowered her head pensively.
"It's deeper than that," Chifuyu admitted. "She was… we were the first ones to actually understand each other. To keep up with one another. That connection… it's difficult to let go of that."
He visibly deflated.
"Yeah. I understand. I've had those too: good friends that were bad people. They hurt the people around you and you ignore those signs because when they hurt you, you can handle it. They do a good thing for you here and there and it's enough to convince you that they're not so bad of a person, despite the warning signs." His expression hardened. "I wish I could have learned earlier that the best thing to do is to just cut them off."
"Hah." She scoffed. "Do you mean that literally or figuratively?"
Shirou blinked.
"It's Tabane," he remarked, somehow failing to answer the question yet giving as much of an answer as she needed.
Tiredly, she leaned her head against his shoulder.
"She isn't going to hurt me."
"She'll try," he muttered. "And she expects you won't get hurt even when she tries, because that's the sort of childish, inconsiderate person she is. I know you, and of course I know that you can handle yourself. But still, I worry."
Without another word, she grabbed his hand and interlocked her fingers between his.
"I know." She murmured. "I appreciate it."
The two of them sat in silence for a moment longer.
Eventually, she stood up, returning the black two-piece back onto the rack, before hauling her husband away to the cashier with a huff.
X
X
They happened across the rather empty art gallery after lunch.
Truthfully, neither of them seemed particularly enthralled or interested in the exhibition – a retrospective of one of the region's finest photographers – but it was an excuse to allow their minds to wander as they pulled their thoughts together and cogitated.
It was quite the heavy conversation they'd just had, after all.
The two stood almost shoulder to shoulder as they silently took in what was advertised as the pièce de résistance of the exhibition and a must-see.
He sneaked a glance at his companion.
At the very least, it seemed she felt as underwhelmed as he was.
Shirou cleared his throat.
"Apparently this is the most expensive photograph sold in the world." He tried.
"Hm?" His comment pulled Orimura's attention away from the gigantic framed photo in front of her.
"2.7 million pounds." He supplied, reading from the pamphlet the docent had passed him.
Orimura blinked. "For this?"
He shrugged.
The woman looked almost bewildered as her attention returned to the print. "But… It's just a picture of the Rhine."
"Apparently it's special for being digitally altered… the photographer removed a few factories in the background, which I presume was especially noteworthy for its time." Shirou read on, unphased. "And its size certainly works in its favour. He wants us to take our time in front of it. Be lost in the details."
"I think he wanted to sell someone a bill of goods." Orimura muttered.
He laughed softly, and Orimura gave him an odd look before she looked back towards the gigantic print in quiet contemplation.
"... I can't imagine having that much money to waste." She murmured, thoughts faraway.
Shirou hummed in quiet agreement, sneaking a quiet glance at the woman every now and then.
She was – he reflected – indeed very pretty, even more so when she was rid of the permanent scowl. Despite her smaller stature, she cut an imposing figure all the same. Inwardly, he noted there was an unshakable austerity about her, and yet a part of him couldn't help but find it elegant as well.
"... So you're some kind of wizard."
Shirou winced, giving a surreptitious look around for any bystanders.
He'd have to be more clear that it wasn't something that they could talk about so freely.
"Sort of." He eventually said.
"Sort of?" The woman repeated, unamused. "It's bad enough you want me to believe in magic—"
"Magic is something else, technically," he supplied sheepishly.
"It's not helping matters with you being so wishy-washy about it."
Shirou gave her a reproachful look. "I believed you."
"That's because my explanation for the source of my strength doesn't fly in the face of reality." Orimura muttered.
He wondered if he should have mentioned that the only reason he accepted her explanation at face value—that she was the product of a lab experiment to create the perfect human being—was his own anecdotal evidence of the Einzbern variety that it was in the realm of possibility.
No. It'd take too long.
He coughed.
"In any case," Shirou went on, a little self-conscious. "I think the correct way to describe me would be… a practitioner of a very, very specific branch of magecraft. Not a wizard."
It was probably pretty silly to hear someone split hairs like that with a straight face, he figured. The look on hers told him as much.
She gestured toward the print before them.
"How about that?" the woman asked. "Would your magic be able to do it?"
He thought about it for a moment, unphased by her dismissal of the offered nomenclature.
"Probably," was what he settled on.
"Probably?" she parroted, sounding unconvinced.
"It's easy if I can understand it as a weapon… a sword," he clarified. "Anything else would take a few extra steps… but I can still manage."
She scrunched her brow in annoyance.
That was his own fault, maybe. It felt like whenever she asked him something about his magecraft he just made it sound like a caveat-riddled, convoluted mess.
"Does the complexity of the subject matter at all?" she asked, still staring at the photograph of the Rhine, the question likely borne of nothing but pure curiosity. "The size?"
Shirou blinked.
"... I can't speak about complexities," he said slowly, a little nonplussed, "but I think it's safe to assume that the larger the size of the work of art, the higher the price for interested buyers."
Orimura looked confused for a moment before she shot him a truly impressive glower.
"I meant in regards to what you call 'Projection'." she clarified, unamused.
"Oh. Right. Sorry, that makes much more sense." He scratched his head sheepishly. "I must confess, I've never traced or projected a painting before, so I can't give you a straight answer. I usually save those skills for tools and technical appliances. Like projectors or cotton-candy machines."
Her eyes narrowed.
"... I'm not pulling your leg." Shirou felt the need to add on. "The smaller objects are generally easier, though."
That seemed to satisfy her. Orimura looked around the room.
"Smaller, then. How about…"
She trailed off. Following her gaze, he quickly understood why she paused.
There was a relatively small painting at the back of the room.
It held an impressionist yet nonetheless recognizable depiction of the Shirokishi flying through the cloudy sky.
"It doesn't look quite right," she muttered.
"It's impressionist." He murmured. "It's not as if it's a photo of the real thing."
"That's not what I—" she stopped, looking almost surprised at herself before shaking her head and facing forward once more. "It doesn't matter. Nevermind."
…
He was missing something.
Shirou watched her carefully, trying to gleam anything at all from her suddenly defensive body language.
…
Right. He had been meaning to ask.
"What's your relationship with Shinonono Tabane?" he asked, noticing how she froze up. "Back at the hangar, you thought I did something to her. You got pretty angry."
Orimura looked at him, giving him a suspicious once-over as she mulled the question over.
"She's my friend," she eventually answered, relaxing a little as she did so. "She… always has been. For as long as I can remember. Since before all of… this."
"Then as a friend," he started, making sure to make eye contact, "I'm curious to know what you think of her."
Orimura looked uncomfortable.
"What do you think about her?" she asked in return, clearly deflecting.
That was fine. What he thought was never meant to be any sort of secret.
"I don't like her," he answered clearly, turning back to the painting of Shirokishi with a mild frown. "If I ever know for sure she's a threat to humanity, then I won't hesitate to do what's right."
"'Do what's right,'" she repeated, eyes narrowed.
Shirou shifted uncomfortably.
Orimura scoffed. "Good luck with that."
He blinked. "You don't seem particularly offended."
"What, did you expect me to worry? Tabane can more than handle you."
"Not that." He waved her off. "I was expecting… hoping that you would defend her character on her behalf."
Orimura looked briefly surprised.
"Why do you care what I think? For someone you want to deal with, you sure seem to care about the extraneous details."
He rubbed his arms self-consciously.
"All I know about Tabane is secondhand." He began. "How she presents herself to the world. Her actions and attitude. It's enough for me to dislike her on principle but… maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I'm biassed against someone like her. I hope I am, for everyone's sake."
Orimura considered it, oddly thoughtful.
"I don't know if things are so clear-cut with her." She eventually admitted. "Concepts like 'Good' and 'Evil' are beneath her. Tabane does as Tabane pleases. I've come to understand that pretty early on."
The sigh she released was long-suffering, and Shirou grimaced.
He was afraid of that.
"Then we're back to square one." He muttered.
"She's not evil, you know." Orimura muttered. "You don't know her like I do."
"I know." He nodded. "I also know that how she has acted isn't how someone with absolute power should act, that they fully comprehend the responsibility such power entrusts them with. Her childishness and cavalier attitude… it's almost as if she doesn't care."
Even Gilgamesh had possessed some semblance of responsibility over the world he claimed was his oyster, and he was bad enough.
Shinonono Tabane might just be worse, and wasn't that a terrifying thought.
"If you really think she doesn't care," Orimura stepped in front of him and forced eye contact once again, staring at him challengingly, "why don't you do something about it, then?"
What she wanted from him at that moment, he didn't know.
He sighed, deflating.
"Because I don't know if it's the right thing to do."
She blinked.
"The world is changing so quickly," he admitted. "I don't even know if getting rid of her would solve more problems than it creates. As it stands, she's the one thing keeping open conflict between countries a thing of the past, for fear of the unknown. How can I be sure that getting rid of her is the correct choice? I don't like her, and at this point I'm almost assured of her turpitude, but…"
He looked away, forlorn.
"But I can't do anything about it." He said softly. "In a grander sense, because of her I… I don't think there's a need for someone like me any longer in this world."
Chifuyu Orimura scrutinised the man in front of her blankly, before her eyes trailed back to the painting of the IS behind him.
"… I'm not sure there's a place for me any longer either." She murmured, not unkindly.
Shirou snorted. "I'm sure the great Brunhilde would manage."
She hit him lightly on the arm.
Shirou blinked.
"Ah." Orimura seemed curiously embarrassed. "Sorry. Reflex. I just…" her arm retreated to her side. "Never mind."
He chuckled, before turning away.
"Come on. Maybe his other works will appeal to us more."
Passively, Chifuyu Orimura followed.
X
X
"And that's the last of it."
She passed her husband the last bag of groceries from the cart, and he loaded up the truck bed with the day's purchases, the hardtop securely in place. Shirou hopped out,seemingly quite pleased with what they were able to get done before lunch, before he took the bag containing the carton of eggs and tucked it into the front seat, swinging the door firmly shut.
He turned to ask his wife if she was ready to head home before he paused.
Something in her face must have spoke to him, because he quickly made his way back by her side, holding his hand against the small of her back.
"Hey. Don't dwell on what happened before. I didn't mean to stress you out about Tabane," he said gently.
She shook her head.
"It's not that. I…" She gently pulled away from him and leaned against the side of the vehicle. "The attack at the academy. At first, I thought I was hiding it from you because I didn't want you to feel helpless again. Unable to help, rather."
Shirou blinked. "I told you, I know you're doing what you think is best. I trust you. It's not a problem."
"No, I…" Chifuyu took a deep breath, silently running through everything she'd been mulling over for the past week, "The more I think about it, the more I think that really wasn't why I didn't mention it in the first place."
She shifted uncomfortably, wondering how to put words to the turbulent malaise bubbling in her heart.
"I guess, the issue is… I'm not really doing anything, am I?" Chifuyu muttered.
He blinked at her owlishly.
"I say I am." She went on. "That I need to know more if it's remote-controlled or the work of AI or some other bullshit like that. But really, I'm just waiting for it to happen again before I actually do something, and who knows what'll happen then? Who might get hurt in the process? And compared to what I did before, and what you expect of me, it's just– it's not even in the same ballpark– no, it's not even the same sport, is it? I—"
"Chifuyu."
She stopped. With muted horror, Chifuyu could see the exact moment Shirou realised that the conversation was becoming metaphorical on a level that she didn't quite intend, but she didn't take the words back. It was what she truly felt after all.
"Sorry." She muttered, looking downwards. "You've been away for a while, and I've been thinking about this a lot."
He smiled sheepishly.
"I said what I said, but in case it bears repeating," Her husband murmured, "it's not like I'm gonna up and leave you."
There was an underlying meaning there that she appreciated. The woman snorted.
"I know that," she said, a tiny, wistful smile crossing her lips. "And I also know that there's a lot of people that put me on a pedestal. No matter what I do, they act like I'm great. That everything I do is great. It's fine. I get it. I sort of asked for it. It's part of the job, after all."
"Chifuyu—"
"You too."
She grabbed his hands tightly in hers before he could say anything. She needed him to hush up if only long enough for her to get her thoughts across properly.
"Just… between the two of us," Chifuyu flushed, "am I really doing enough for us? For you?"
His mouth opened to say something, but his mind came up short. Shirou stared at her blankly for a moment before trying again.
"I don't think the main breadwinner of this family should be asking this." He tried.
"That stuff is easy. I've done that my entire life, taking care of my brother." She shook her head. "But this, however…"
She saw his face contort in such a way that she knew was preparing for a cheeky comment. Her husband could get snarky when he didn't know what else to say.
But that didn't come.
"Chifuyu, my love for you isn't contingent."
Her throat dried up. It wasn't about that.
"How can you say that when compared to what I… compared to back then, and how I am now–" Chifuyu muttered, trying to make herself clear.
"How are you so sure of that when it's only because of what I've done back then that we're even here like this, in the first place?"
Her husband froze.
Chifuyu sighed.
Wallowing in self-pity hadn't been how she wanted to spend the weekend with him.
"I'm sorry," she shook her head, "it's pointless to think about this now. I'm happy, you're happy—"
"Chifuyu."
Two warm, calloused hands enveloped her own.
"Don't apologise." Her husband began, unusually serious. "I'm sorry you think that way. But I don't want you to misunderstand. I—"
"Ooh~ Orimura-sensei?"
Oh Fuck.
They lurched away from each other, looking for the source of the voice that called out to them in the basement carpark. They turned to see a teenage girl with short yet wild blue hair running up to them with a bright smile.
"Sarashiki," Chifuyu greeted the girl in a surprised tone, recognizing her immediately.
"It is you!" the younger girl exclaimed cheerfully, animatedly waving her trademark sensu fan open in her excitement. "What a surprise! Conceptually, I know you have a private life too, but seeing you here is sort of like seeing a tsuchinoko, you know what I mean? You don't strike me as much of a mall-goer."
She certainly wasn't.
Up until this point, she had never really run into a student outside of work before now, somehow. It was just her luck that she ran into the one student that wasn't quite as wary of her, by means of her accomplishments and accolades at such a young age.
Chifuyu wiped the shock off her face and forced it back into a more professional look.
"Why are you here, Sarashiki?"
"Oh, I'm here buying swimsuits for my sister," she held up the little bag, "what with the seaside school coming up."
Chifuyu blinked. "Kanzashi? Do you actually think she'd use it?"
"Well, no, she'd probably choose to spend the entire trip inside her room, if it was possible," Sarashiki admitted, "but it's important that she has the option. That's part of being an elder sister, after all!"
"Yes. Quite." Chifuyu's tone was business-like once more. "It's nice to see you, Sarashiki, but I think—"
Too late, her voice trailed off as she watched Sarashiki's eyes drift over to her husband, blinking.
Shirou offered a warm smile. "Hello there."
And just like that, her student's face split into a smug grin that could rival Tabane on a good day.
"Oya, oya…" the girl chirped, gently tapping her fan against her chin. "You must be Shirou!"
The couple looked at each other in mild surprise. Her husband looked almost bashful.
"Well I don't know if I must be," Shirou sheepishly scratched the back of his head, "but yes, I am. I take it you're one of Chifuyu's students?"
The girl stuck her hand out for a handshake, which he didn't see any reason to deny.
"Sarashiki Tatenashi, 2nd year, IS representative of Russia, and the strongest IS student, at your service!" His hand in hers, she shook it animatedly.
He chuckled. "The strongest, huh? That's a good attitude to have."
"It's actually true." Chifuyu muttered.
"Oh." Shirou blinked, looking at Sarashiki with interest. "Wow. You must be very proud."
"Eh, it has its perks and responsibilities!" She agreed. "I'm still not as good as Orimura-sensei though, but I'm getting there!"
"I don't recall ever mentioning him in class." Chifuyu felt the need to point out, watching the exchange with some consternation.
Shirou blinked in mock offence. "You don't talk about me in school?"
"What's to tell, idiot?" She looked away.
It wasn't as if she hid his existence. She just didn't see how it was relevant at all. The people that needed to know, knew. That was good enough.
"Oh, I have tea breaks with the Principal every once in a while. Perks of being the Student Council President," she revealed easily. "One day I was wondering where Orimura-sensei got her cookies from, and imagine my surprise when he gossips and tells me she's married!"
What the fuck.
What was the principal blabbering about her private life for?
"A-ah, I see." Shirou smiled. "I'm glad you enjoyed them."
"We all did!" She beamed, giving him a once-over. "I must say, I was expecting some sort of scary guy to accompany Orimura-sensei, but you're really a softie, aren't you?"
"Tatenashi." Chifuyu growled.
"Come now, sensei!" The student looked utterly unapologetic. "It's all in good fun!"
"Tatenashi," her husband repeated, thoughtful. "That's an unusual name. Isn't it masculine?"
The girl nodded.
"Yeah. It's a… family tradition, kinda. I don't know if you've read Bleach–"
"The manga?" He blinked owlishly. "That's an old one."
"Well, my family has been fighting against a particular group of bad guys since, like, forever, and whoever's at the head of the pack at a given time is given the name 'Tatenashi' whether they're a boy or a girl." She shrugged. "It's basically like 'Kenpachi', I guess? Just like Zaraki is the eleventh 'Kenpachi', I'm the seventeenth 'Tatenashi'. It's like I was raised to be a 'hero of justice', basically!"
Her husband froze.
It was all technically true, but Chifuyu found it admirable that Sarashiki was able to say all that with a straight face.
"I see," he replied simply, lost in thought for a moment. "Is it really okay for you to tell me that?"
It certainly wasn't public knowledge. Chifuyu herself was wondering what the girl was thinking, saying something like that on a whim.
"Oh, I'm not worried." Sarashiki tapped her chin. "It's not like you're any stranger to keeping secrets like this." Her crimson eyes glinted mischievously. "It's you I'm talking to, after all."
Shirou blinked, before his brows furrowed, frowning.
"Excuse me?"
"You know what I mean."
Chifuyu's eyes flitted between her and her husband, frowning.
"Tatenashi…" she tried.
"You're Brunhilde's husband!" Sarashiki beamed, suddenly all smiles again. "You've been married for years, and it's still not common knowledge that sensei's married! You must be doing something right in keeping this secret so far."
"Oh. That's it." Shirou chuckled. "I guess so, yeah."
Just then, there came an impatient honk to their right.
"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Sarashiki called, before returning her attention to them both. "Sorry, that's my ride. It's nice to finally put a face to the name at last!"
Shirou smiled warmly. "It's so nice to formally meet one of Chifuyu's charges as well. Thank you."
Tatenashi beamed, snapping her fan shut with a flourish.
"Bye-bye, sensei! Bye-bye, Shirou!"
And with a wink, the Student Council President hopped into a waiting car, leisurely driving towards the exit, leaving the two of them blankly staring behind.
Shirou whistled.
"Toyota Century." He murmured. "You don't see one of those every day."
"I'm going to have a long, long talk with the Principal when I get back to work." Chifuyu muttered, rubbing her temples with a sigh. "Bodewig was one thing, but this…"
"You're doing enough."
Chifuyu's attention was taken from Sarashiki's car as she realised that her husband was talking to her. Seeing her inquisitive expression, he smiled warmly.
"With her. All of them," he explained, reaching out to hold her hand. "If someone like Sarashiki is flourishing—under your guidance—then I feel at peace. Please don't worry. You're doing enough."
Honestly, Chifuyu was a little flustered receiving such an earnest compliment. Even if it came from her own husband.
"Mm." She nodded along, somehow not able to look him in the eye.
With her attention diverted, her guard was down; she could do nothing to anticipate him leaning over to give her a peck on the cheek.
"Shirou…" She mumbled, half-heartedly pushing him away.
Her husband chuckled, before turning around and opening the passenger door to the pickup truck.
"Come on. Let's go home," he said.
"Mm."
X
"The bath is free," Chifuyu called out to her husband as she exited the bathroom. He was flat on the bed with his laptop on his chest.
"Thanks," he responded. "I'll be just a second."
That piqued her curiosity. She crawled onto the bed next to him and rested her head against his shoulder.
"What'cha working on?"
He didn't need to answer. Instead, he turned the device so she could better see the screen.
It was the website for the ryokan that she'd be staying at during the trip.
"I know there's stuff like security clearances to think about, and I know what you're going to say, but I was thinking about coming along," he explained. "I won't get in the way of anything, obviously. I probably won't even head outside during the first day, when everyone's at the beach. I just thought it would be a good idea to stay near in case Tabane has the idea to try… something."
He sounded less sure of himself as he spoke. As if feeling self-conscious about overstepping his ground in some way.
Chifuyu considered it.
After the day they'd had, she felt like she could understand his feelings.
"Okay," she agreed easily, visibly catching him off guard. "I'll talk to the Principal. He has the final say, but after what he put me through, I'm sure he'll say yes."
At this point, the man owed her big time.
"You're fine with it?" he asked, wide-eyed.
She smiled.
"Of course I am."
"Oh. Alright, then." Her husband smiled, tilting his head to peck her on the head. "It's a date."
Chifuyu snorted, waving her husband off as he swung his legs off the bed, removing his shirt as he stood.
"Now that I think about it," he remarked, halfway to the bathroom, "it'd be as good a time as any for me to finally meet your brother."
Chifuyu smiled. "Yeah, I suppose it is."
X
X
Hey everyone! It's been a while.
I won't bore you all with the details; some not so great stuff happened that made getting my next chapter out—this one in particular—very difficult both conceptually but also logistically. As in I was stuck without a keyboard and even a computer for a bit.
It's sorted now, thankfully. Sherlock did most of the heavy lifting here, and he usually already does a lot. In the meantime I've been working in the background to get everything sorted so that I can swiftly catch up on everything that I'm behind on.
If you're curious about the details or just want a proper explanation for my absence, I've made a public post on pa treon outlining the gist of things. Speaking of, this is technically the guaranteed chapter for June, not July. I'm still going to put up the vote for this month's guaranteed update in just a sec because I don't think I did that before I disappeared off the face of the earth.
My immediate itinerary before the end of the month is:
This month's guaranteed chapter
June and July Pa treon short story
The illustration for this chapter (I'll have to wait on the pa treon vote but it shouldn't take long)
I will try to sneak in a third update for something else if I can. We've been off to a bad start so far but I believe we can make things work.
Thank you all for your support and for reading this story!