Fate: Souls and Singularities

by Mundatorem

Singularities. Points in Human History which have become corrupted with the presence of a Holy Grail with the end result being the incineration of Humanity. However, it is not the Grails alone which are divergent. The Incineration comes about as one world in particular comes to an end. The two become linked as figures from a different Throne reach across the barriers between worlds

254. Valentines: Ending

Valentines: Ending

Olga was barely out of the Rayshift chamber, her legs felt utterly weightless.

She couldn't be sure whether it was numbness from an uncomfortable sitting for so long, or if it was the leftover excitement of the flying. Perhaps it was a little of both, but she kept her complaints to herself, as she did so for the duration of the flight.

Neither one of them said anything as they walked out and into the hallway.

Yet Olga did not find the silence awkward or unsettling, it was perfect. Everything that had been said had been aired, everything else was better left unsaid in an unspoken agreement between the two of them.

She paused, then turned.

Looking up at Kalameet and meeting his mismatched eyes.

His lips pulled into a small, almost childlike, smile and then he turned and walked off. With nothing left to say, he retreated down the hallways with a bit more confidence in his stride. She noticed the differences with how he had been before almost immediately. Now he felt like an individual, rather than something else.

"It worked out well then?"

Olga turned immediately, fixing her eyes on the figure standing opposite her.

The small Berserker, minute smile on her lips, looked at her with a knowing expression. "You do not need to answer that. I have my intuition to tell me how it went. I was just coming round to see how my advice had paid off…I would have felt rather guilty if my words had failed to help him."

Kiyohime looked past her, searching the corridor over Olga's shoulder and finding something that pleased her. The tiny smile got a bit wider, at least until a click of the fan shielded it from view, but the eyes were still bright with warmth.

Olga straightened and rolled her lips.

Finding whatever she wanted to say on the tip of her tongue.

"...Ritsuka was involved as well, wasn't he?"

A singular nod of the head. "Anchin-sama did his best, but I had a touch more experience in this sort of thing…but he was certainly instrumental. Though…the ultimate idea was the Berserkers. Whatever he did with the two of you, that was all on his own."

Olga pursed her lips. "Your…actions have been…you are…"

She closed her eyes, not willing to speak again until she could actually get words out.

When her gaze returned once more, she spoke clearly. "As Director of Chaldea, you have my appreciation for ensuring the mental health of the current workforce."

Kiyohime regarded her with a flat gaze.

Then, just as swiftly, a quiet giggling filled the hallway, one that seemed to push right through her, like a wind sweeping away whatever confident foundation she had been trying to build up. That simple gesture undid what she had been trying. The Berserker approached her, snapping the fan shut and showing off the smile on her lips.

Stopping right in front of Olga, she brought the fan up and then guided it down with a single movement.

When gently tapped her forehead, she recoiled away from the fan and stared in shock at the Berserker, the brief loss for words allowed the Servant to get her own in.

"You may thank me as yourself, but I suppose that is your own way of being honest." A small sigh. "Though it is a bit too close to being a lie for my liking, I shall allow it…I'd ask you to not make a habit of it, though. Still…"

She shook her head, then stepped past the Director.

"...I think he could make you more honest, and you him…That is always a good thing."

And then, without making another sound, she was gone.

By the time Olga turned around, the Berserker had vanished. Either into spirit form or merely just out of sight, she did not know. But she stood there for a few moments, unsure of what transpired.

Her shoulders lowered as she considered the words, surprisingly enough.

…Close enough to a lie?

…Maybe.

Perhaps she was just happy that Kalameet was-

"Pale rose!"

A voice echoed down the hallway, Olga blanched and turned, just in time for the arms of Nero to wrap around her in a tight embrace.

"You have revealed yourself to me at last!"

…She had almost forgotten why she had wanted to get out of Chaldea in the first place.

---

It had been one of the meeting rooms, emptied out and converted into a ballroom.

Or that was the initial intention, yet by the time Gwyndolin had arrived, he found himself wondering why his assistance had even been requested in the first place. The decorations that hung across the room, streaks of flower petals from corner to corner in a web of colour, showed off some level of twisted detail.

There was a chaotic order about it, as if with this splash of randomly assembled colours, they had managed to create something that could have been mistaken for cohesion.

Nothing at all like the illustrious halls of Anor Londo, however, the array of colours bordered on being offensive to the eyes.

Already there were a dozen or so Servants inside, some acknowledged his entrance while others continued about as they were. Paying little heed to what he was doing.

He stopped, briefly, when he caught sight of the very centre of the room and pinched his brows together.

Flann twisting his hands around a tower, constructed of something decidedly thinner than stone. Light pierced through the gaps, right the way to the summit of the mock tower, standing just a foot or two taller than the God who created it. Fires twisted and pushed through the grated hood, burning without heat and in a colour far removed from their original.

A faint pinkish hue to them, spinning upwards until they held a shape right above the tower, turning about and spinning.

Vaguely arrow shaped.

Gwyndolin raised a brow, keeping his eye on the tower, then pulling it down towards the direction of Flann as the God turned and made eye contact with him. Neither said anything, nor did they feel the need to speak, and with only curt nods shared between them, they went about their business.

Taking in a short breath, Gwyndolin reached out with an invisible hand.

The floors, once cold steel, were blanketed with a velvet, the walls changed from bleached white to beige, a golden shine twisted into the vine-like patterns that rolled and climbed up them, stretching from floor to ceiling. The ceiling changed, the matching sensation suddenly looked to elevate, a perspective of it standing taller than it once did, from the summit hung golden chandeliers, each of eight spoked decorations tipped with a cold orange flame.

When his eyes opened, the room looked how he had imagined it.

All the decorations that had been put up without his presence, the mismatched flower petals and the curious tower, remained untouched by his actions.

He clasped his hands together, giving a single satisfied nod.

"Ooooh~"

Turning, he was met with the awed expression of the white Queen, Marie Antoinette, as she turned on her heel and stared at the room with naked wonder. Stepping around and clasping her hands over her mouth, only to lower them and look at him with a pleased grin.

"C'est incroyable~" She whispered in a voice loud enough for him to hear, the language filtered through his mind and he found himself feeling a touch taller than before.

"You expected less of me?" He looked back at her, then turned his head. "An illusion of this calibre is a trivial task."

And that was the truth.

Yet being praised for his illusions was something he had little experience with.

"I knew you were good, but this was beyond what I was expecting…" The Queen admitted with an expression tinged with guilt. "Sorry for underestimating you."

She sounded genuine.

He regarded her with silence, then shook his head. "It was not a talent that was utilised often, you would hardly be the first to think such things and I very much doubt you to ever be the last."

"The room holds the magnificence expected of my Lord."

He stiffened at the voice, turning his neck to face the approaching man, a gentle smile on the lips of the Darkmoon knight, purple eyes cast over the room as his hands rested on his hips.

"And I find myself troubled to even stand within it, never did I attend such a place…nor do I recall making grand impressions during my own times."

"...A chance for a change, perhaps?" Gwyndolin found himself saying, though whether the words were for himself or for his knight, he could hardly tell. Instead he put what confidence he could muster into them and let them settle. "There would be many who lacked the same experience and it would go without words that I was never present for such…events."

Ser Bedric looked troubled by his words, turning a frown on him before exhaling. "If you wish to excuse yourself, then I will explain to all those who would ask."

Gwyndolin slowly shook his head. "No, I will remain. As will you. It would not do for a lord to be present without his knight, would it?"

A surprised blink, then a glance shared with the Queen before the knight gave a smile, small but warm. "You are quite right, my lord. I will do my utmost to avoid bringing shame to your order."

There was very little that one could do to shame his order further than others.

Gwyndolin doubted one could make more of a fool of themselves than he did at a dance.

For how could one achieve dancing when they lacked legs?

His deformity felt more weighted than ever before.

The clap of Marie's hands drew his eyes to her, her own were alight with excitement, the emotion was rolling from her body in great waves. So thick that he was sure he could reach out and clasp it between his fingers. The Queen glanced around before humming. "We're going to need to wait for the band to show up, but it will be here…that much I know."

Band?

…He had a strange sense of foreboding.

He glanced at Bedric and moved to the knight, dropping his voice into a whisper as the Queen paced away from them, muttering to herself all the while.

"Keep an eye on the entertainment. If you should see such a figure as a crossbreed approach the stage…inform me."

Bedric gave a serious nod of the head. "Without fail…should I make plans to prevent her?"

"...No, I will not mark this day with problems, but I can mitigate the damage with sorcery."

"I will lend my miracles to your cause then."

"Good."

---

Olga had not been to something like this for quite a while.

Shuffling into the room, she could feel eyes upon her.

That was not to say she was nervous, she had been to gatherings like this before - though they had been rather more formal - and she was able to find some of her old dresses for such events. She had forgotten she even had something like this packed with her belongings, but it seemed to have slipped in without realising.

She reached up and adjusted the headpiece, a garland of roses fitted into her hair. She tried to avoid the fact that they were crimson like that of the many flowers hanging above her head, or the fact that her red and white dress was somewhat similar to a certain attire of an Emperor.

Wide brimmed with two rows of black petaled flowers across the dress leading to the waist, she stepped forwards into the dance hall and found herself at a momentary loss for the decor. It was certainly the sort of place she would have been more familiar with, at least her dress no longer felt out of place.

Yet as she looked around, seeing most of the Servants wearing either simple clothes or their armour in some cases, she felt that hint of standing out. It was to be expected, but she hardly wanted to give the impression that she was vain.

What she did notice, oddly enough, was a dark haired figure in a blue dress stood beside a long haired blonde. The latter of the two wore a long black gown, yet it was tight fitting to the body and accentuated the curves rather flatteringly. Yet Olga could not place where either of them were from.

Even staring at the dark haired woman gave her some odd sense of familiarity, yet she knew of no one in the staff who looked like that, nor could she place a Servant with that appearance.

Her curiosity won her over, not least of all because they were both by the drinks table, and she paced across the room towards them.

Already hearing the two of them engaged in conversation, she came up by their side and froze.

Fujimaru Ritsuka turned and faced her, then gave a singular blink of surprise.

Olga stared back with equally wide eyes.

Then the tall blonde turned to them, swinging that mountainous weight she called a chest, and almost clocked Ritsuka in the side of the head. Frowning as she realised their closeness and leaned back a little.

Olga diverted her eyes between the two of them.

Then back towards Ash's face, the blonde slowly brought a glass of glowing golden liquid to her lips and took a small sip.

Hair tied into a long ponytail which reached past her shoulders.

…And a diamond shaped cut out to expose her abs to the world.

Olga turned her head and stared at Boudica opposite her, the red haired woman merely looked at her before nodding.

"You look stunning."

"Right…thank you." Olga replied rather mutely, nodding her head and reaching across, taking the glass into her hand and bringing it to her lips.

She was unsure whether she should have been disappointed that it wasn't alcoholic.

"...Wow." She heard Ritsuka mutter. "...Director you…"

Olga turned and looked at him, catching the slight hint of heat in his cheeks as he brought up a gloved hand and hid away half his face. Then brought his own glass and sipped from it. Turning back to her and smiling.

"...I…Yeah, you look amazing."

"...Ritsuka." Olga wasn't sure what she was supposed to say. "You are…in a dress."

"...Yeah."

"...It's a very nice dress."

Now she felt a bit like an idiot, though the moment only lasted until Ritsuka afforded her with a rather cute smile.

"Thanks. Medea really went above and beyond with it." The teen replied, looking down and examining himself with that same approving smile. "I was worried I would have been overdressed for it, but between you and Ash, I get the feeling that there's nothing to worry about."

"...Is there…a reason?"

Ritsuka looked to her, understanding what she was trying to say.

He shrugged. "I felt like it."

He felt like it.

Fair enough.

It was hardly as though he was the first person she ever encountered to have that sort of interest, there were some who studied in the Clocktower and she was sure that had this event happened with Team A still awake, Peperoncino Scandinavia would have shown up with an outfit which would have been as flamboyant as it was loud.

"You look…" Olga searched for the right words, then decided on them. "...Very beautiful."

She was unsure if that was the right thing to say, especially because Ritsuka paused and then slowly looked at her with wider eyes.

When he spoke, it was in a hushed whisper.

"...Thanks, I like to think so too." His smile, despite being smaller, held a great deal more weight. "Maybe next time I'll wear a traditional suit. You know, if there ever is another gathering like this."

Olga hummed, she would not dismiss it out of hand.

Especially if it occurred outside of Chaldea, if there was ever a chance.

Ritsuka seemed hopeful for it.

"...Perhaps." Olga muttered, then brought the glass to her lips once more. "I'm certain you could pull off a suit as well as a dress."

"I aim to be a jack of all trades."

Olga huffed, then she glanced at Ash and raised a brow. "And you?"

Ash looked back with blank eyes. "...It was easier to get a dress than a suit."

…That was somehow the answer she was expecting.

With a huff, she glanced to Ritsuka. "And the reactions to this?"

The boy looked a little abashed. "You know? I don't think all that many people have really figured out that it's me yet. I mean…I think Arash might have cottoned on, but he just said I looked good and then went off somewhere over there I think."

He brought his free hand up and waved towards some direction in the corner.

"And Altera definitely noticed, but she just said that looking attractive for a dance was good civilisation…though that might have been to you as well."

Ritsuka turned and looked up at Ash.

The blonde gave a faint hum of affirmation and took another drink of whatever was in her glass.

"Then there was d'Eon." Ritsuka paused, then pulled a wry smile. "They're somewhere with a dress of their own. Lovely white one, very classical. Very flattering. They had this knowing look, so I think they figured out what I was going to do before I actually went and did it but, hey, we match."

He looked very…relaxed.

Some sort of unflappable personality regardless of whatever situation he was in.

"Where is Mash?"

She found herself asking after a moment, turning her head about to try and find notice of the girl. It was normally difficult to find her so far from the side of Ritsuka, and yet he was here by himself.

Ritsuka pulled a tight expression. "...I did go to pick her up so that we could come together, but she insisted that I go on ahead first. I wanted to wait but Mash was a lot more stubborn than I was at the time…she said she would be very disappointed in me if she left her room and found that I was waiting for her."

An exhale, he lowered the empty glass down and stared into the contents.

"...She did say that she would be here soon though, and I haven't been here that long in the first place."

He looked at her, then gave an odd smile.

"What about you? How come I'm not seeing a pair of monarchs hanging off either arm?"

Something about that smile made her want to slap his arm, she felt her neck turn slightly warmer as she straightened. "Do not make me sound like some manner of philanderer. It was difficult enough to escape the clutches of that mad Emperor. Her obsession with me is nonsensical!"

Ritsuka raised a brow at her, giving her an odd expression. "I think she just likes you."

"She likes my body." Olga corrected with a half smile, taking a longer sip of her glass and wishing it was something stronger, not for the first time. "There is a marked difference between the two of them."

He frowned, then shook his head. "I think there might be more to it than that, Director?"

"I'm sure you would." She offered him a dry look, then shook her head. "Or did you forget that she tried to bed a certain someone for no other reason than because she had the same face as her?"

She caught the way Ash stiffened for a half second, green eyes narrowed for a moment before going back to drinking.

Apparently it was not so forgotten with the Avenger.

Ritsuka looked decidedly more uncomfortable now. "What about Marie?"

Olga found the answer a little more difficult to come up with for that one, so she neglected to answer.

There was a sharp gasp to her right.

Ritsuka and Ash heard it also, the three of them turned and stared.

Marie stared right back at them, hands clasped over her mouth.

"...Belle…" It was a low whisper, but the Rider approached them, Olga was surprised that the Rider did not have a dress beyond her usual attire. The ordinarily red dress was instead a pure white, a marked difference but not what she was expecting.

The Rider came to a stop, her bright eyes swept over all of them as her hands slowly lowered down, clasped before her chest.

"All of you…you're all so beautiful."

Olga shuffled. "Well…thank you."

"I'm happy you showed up, Olga." Marie approached her and came up by her side. "I was worried that you might have been scared away from it, but to see you here…and Ritsuka, you're dazzling. I thought a suit would have given you a strong presence but to see you in a dress…you're a natural. I'm feeling a touch embarrassed that I didn't have the time to get one."

Olga rolled her lips and replied, without truly thinking. "You look appropriate enough for the venue already."

Marie turned quickly, surprise in her face, but it quickly melted away into warmth. "Thank you for saying that, but compared to you and the others…goodness gracious, I'm a Queen unable to attend a ball in a dress, certainly a touch embarrassing, isn't it?"

"Not really." Ritsuka was swift to answer, smiling as he spoke. "Like the Director said, your clothes are extravagant all the time. We've just moved up to be at your level, that's all. Rather, I'm a little thankful…I'm sure that I would have felt under-dressed if you showed up with one."

Marie let out a faint giggle. "You're certainly very bold today, aren't you? Perhaps you would care for a dance later?"

Ritsuka froze for a moment, then wet his lips and gave a nervous smile, almost a little strained. "Only if you don't mind running the risk of having your toes stood on. You'd probably find elephants who are better dancers than I am."

He glanced past them, then smiled a bit wider, reaching across without looking and setting his glass down. "But if you can stomach that, I can do what I can to try not to embarrass you. Now, if you'll excuse me…there's someone I have to speak with. Director, Ash, Marie."

Olga stepped aside as he walked, striding past them and into the hall, gliding through the crowd with only a light stumble.

Evidently, he was not quite used to walking in heels.

It was a small stumble, but it was almost amusing to watch him freeze and then splay his hands either side of him, as if prepared to leap forwards.

Seconds passed, then he resumed walking, at a much slower pace than before.

"What about you?"

Olga blinked, then turned to Marie. "What about-dancing? You want to take me dancing?"

The notion settled like a heavy weight in her cut.

She knew how to dance, she had danced before at formal attendings, but that was always impersonal. There was very little meaning behind them and, at most, she could tell the first name of the person she danced with before they went their separate ways.

"I…" Olga rolled her lips. "I…We'll see."

Ash looked across and down. "I would offer, but I do not know how."

She was sure she wasn't the only one shocked at her words, but she was the first to respond to them. "You…you would offer?"

Ash inclined her head and raised a brow. "It is a dance. It is expected for those who attend to dance. Hence the offer…But I cannot, so-"

"You…you want to dance?"

More silence.

Ash looked away and brought the glass to her lips.

"...You can dance if you want." Olga found herself muttering, aware of the look that Marie was sending her, but not turning her head towards it. She met the gaze of Ash as she froze and slowly inclined her head down and looked at her with those puzzled green eyes. "I…some of the slow dances are just walking back and forth. They are simple enough that even a child could accomplish them."

For a brief moment, she felt a fool for even offering.

Then, "If…you would be willing to do so. I will accept."

Olga nodded, but was left surprised.

Why had she even offered in the first place?

"Does this mean I can have a dance?"

The prodding from Marie earned an exasperated huff, but she found that it was hardly an annoyance on her nerves, when she turned to the Queen, she gave her a half-lidded stare and managed to fight back the desire to roll her eyes.

"...Fine. Since I seem to be offering them out freely, I can give you one."

The smile on Marie's lips was smaller than she would have expected.

Yet there was something about it that made it feel enormous.

---

Gwyndolin found comfort in the corner of the room.

He was unsurprised that Medusa had come to the same conclusion as he, leaving the two of them in the shade away from the Servants and to their own devices.

The music was a low hum in the background, a pleasant tune, a mixture of a slow and high pitched piano with a barely audible drumming beat behind them. It was the work of the musician.

A casual music, he supposed.

"Have you no interest in dancing?"

He found himself saying during one of the moments of brief lull, Medusa only shook her head.

"I am not much for dancing."

Gwyndolin hummed back. "Nor am I, though I am certain it would be more flattering for you than I."

Medusa turned her head, she remained in her usual attire, visor above her eyes as she stared at him. He could imagine the look she was sending his way, even if her lips betrayed nothing. It was why he gave no reaction to her next words. "Do you want to dance?"

"I am content where I am." He replied, giving a faint wave of the hand as he did so. "Being close enough to witness the dancing is a greater experience than I recall having. Though I am sure Quelaag will be along soon enough to pull me from my seat and toss me around in an effort of a dance."

Medusa's only response was a low hum, yet there was something about it that told him a story of great words.

He turned and fixed her with a blank look. "Does such an image seem appealing to you?"

"...Perhaps." Medusa replied slowly, then she gave a short nod to him. "You did not indicate that you would be wholly uncomfortable with her taking the lead."

"Resigned, would be the better choice of word." He replied with a sigh. "I am merely gathering my strength until she should appear and then set herself upon me."

"You would not resist?"

The words pulled a faint snort from him, it deserved a louder laugh, but he reined himself back from such a display. He did not blame Medusa for feeling as such, but he would have found himself rather unable to resist Quelaag if she came for him.

"That is akin to asking the moon to resist reflecting the light of the sun."

Medusa looked at him for a moment, then gave a single nod of the head and turned back to the dance floor.

Gwyndolin turned his gaze, feeling the silence creep in once more.

"What if I set myself upon you?"

He recoiled, hand pressing to his right ear and cheeks suddenly burning bright. He had his eyes fixed on Medusa, who had not moved. She still sat with her legs folded over and her hands resting on her thigh. Gaze turned to the hall, Gwyndolin would have called it his imagination for hearing her voice breath into his ear.

Except for the small upturn of her lips.

His eyes narrowed and he pulled at his clothes, adjusting them and returning to his original posture, feeling the weight of her gaze on the side of his face even if he could not see her eyes upon him.

"You spoke of your reluctance to dance."

"I could make an exception."

"For no other reason than to see my expression?"

Medusa let out a low hum, it rippled in her throat as her head bobbed from side to side. Seemingly thinking of an answer to give, even if her expression already spoke of the one she had decided on.

Then she angled her face towards his. "You want to try, don't you?"

Maybe he did.

But he wouldn't.

"I hope you would, that would make coming over here a little awkward."

Medusa turned to the voice before him, the only thing that stopped him was the immediate reaction of the Rider. He watched her brows shoot up above her visor, her posture went straight in surprise and her mouth parted. Gwyndolin watched it all, a twinge of amusement at her very near slack jawed expression.

Then he turned his head towards Ritsuka's voice.

He was sure he was making the same expression as Medusa now.

Ritsuka stood over him, hands on his hips and with a confident smile on his face.

Yet what really sent Gwyndolin's mind into a state of confusion was the clothes Ritsuka was wearing.

Sapphire blue, covering more of the right side than of the left and with matching silken gloves which extended all the way to the elbows.

Ritsuka stepped forwards and extended a hand towards Gwyndolin.

"If you're worried about it, trust me." His smile turned lopsided. "You cannot be a worse dancer than I am."

He stared at the outstretched hand, then to the face of the boy with utter shock.

"Y-you-"

Gwyndolin could hardly believe it.

"...You're in a dress."

Ritsuka nodded. "I am, yeah. Apparently I pull it off rather well."

"That is hardly the-" Gwyndolin cut himself short, shooting to his full height and sweeping over the human. "Have you not given thought to how this will appear to the others? What your pride will mean if they look at you now and see nothing more than-"

"Than me." Ritsuka cut him short, bringing up his hand and waving down. "I am more than my clothes. Being in a dress is hardly going to do anything all that different and doesn't change what I am or am not capable of."

Gwyndolin rolled his jaw, Ritsuka did not understand. "This will-"

"Gwyndolin." He stopped, Ritsuka had stepped forwards and placed a hand on his arm, looking into his eyes. "Clothes don't matter for anything beyond looking good. That is it. Nothing more and nothing less…Besides, I'm sure you would look quite flattering in a suite and tie."

…This human really didn't quite understand, did he?

Eyes closed, Gwyndolin felt the illusion wash over his body, when they opened again he had adopted a form of attire more suited for the humans of this era. Pitch black blazer, white undershirt and dark trousers. He felt his serpent limbs tighten ever so slightly, he reached across and took the hand of Ritsuka before exhaling.

"...At least inform me if you suffer from talk as a result of this. I will act swiftly, as will Ser Bedric."

All Ritsuka did was huff. "Let them talk but…thanks."

Far in the flung corners, they barely moved.

It was nothing more than a gentle sway back and forth, even though Gwyndolin needed to keep a tight hold on Ritsuka to stop the boy falling flat onto his back. Despite that clumsy nature, he found it difficult to express a sense of dissatisfaction with the performance.

That manner of clumsy enjoyment, failing with a smile, was very much the type of reaction he expected from Ritsuka.

---

Ash expected little of the dance.

She got little.

At least until she was all but grabbed by Nobunaga and dragged away to the dance floor, what came next was hardly something that could be called a dance.

At least by her own metric of understanding.

Nobunaga just swung them both back and forth, smiling all the while.

Ash went along with it, keeping her expression still even as she saw the smiles and the mirth from those who surrounded the pair. Oddly enough, whatever Nobunaga did seemed to have an additional effect, as soon enough they were surrounded by Servants doing much the same as they currently were.

It did not matter who they grabbed, the end result was just a large collection of them swinging back and forth on the dance floor to a rapidly rising beat of music. It was swift, hammering like a heart, yet there was no worry. Merely a palpable sense of excitement as they were pulled around.

"I wanted rock and roll." Nobunaga called out, speaking loud enough to raise her voice above the crowd. "Not sure if they ever agreed with that or not."

Ash shrugged, then spotted someone twist another, raising their hand and spinning them around before catching them.

She memorised the movement, then opted to follow through.

She turned down to Nobunaga, perhaps the Archer sensed that something was about to happen to them, Ash wasn't sure if there was something that gave away her intentions. But she acted as she always did, moving first and, with a tight hold on Nobunaga, she pulled her hand up and above her head.

"Wha-?"

Nobunaga released a sharp gasp, Ash placed her other hand against the waist of the dark haired woman and gave a gentle push. Spinning the Servant around on the spot, ignoring the sudden gasp of alarm, when they were looking back at one another, Ash lowered the arm down between them.

Curling her arm around the back of the Archer, she stepped forwards and leaned into them, the footing of Nobunaga slipped completely, falling back into Ash's embrace and staring up with wide red eyes. Held up only by the arm acting as a support across her back. Ash looked down at her for a moment, then leaned backwards and pulled her back to her feet.

The swift movement had jerked some strands of hair out of place, they hung loosely in the line of sight of the Archer, the hat on her head was also slightly ajar from the normal position.

Ash reached across, pulling the hat off her head with one hand while the other brushed the hair back, curling it around the ear of the Archer before pressing the hat back onto her head and giving it a firm tug to ensure it remained upright this time.

"...Was that acceptable?"

"...mwha?"

That hardly sounded like a comprehensive reply.

Ash stepped closer and leaned down, searching the expression of Nobunaga.

She did not get much of anything, instead the face of the Servant turned a touch brighter with scarlet, then she backed away and swiftly turned on her heel. Before Ash could get out even a word, she had already disappeared into the crowd and out of sight, leaving her alone on the dance floor.

Was her dancing that bad?

Frown still on her lips, she turned and stared down at the closest person to her.

It happened to be Okita.

The smaller woman was looking back with an expression of shock, staring at Ash with wide eyes as if she had witnessed some act of bafflement.

Her dancing must have been truly awful, she thought, if it brought about such a state of affairs.

Perhaps dancing with Olga would yield a similar result.

…An apology would suffice, she hoped.

---

Mash felt herself feel under scrutiny the moment she stepped into the hall.

She immediately sought out a familiar face, or someone she would have been comfortable standing near, to the point she would have actively sought out doctor Roman. Not a slight against him, but she did not see him actively taking up a dancing role in a situation like this.

With a deep breath, she carried herself forwards.

The room felt tight, even spacious as it was, there was a claustrophobia that surrounded her.

Warm bodies pressing against one another, yet not one of them physically touched her. She could hear voices, dozens of them, from all around. A mess of conversation poorly woven into the music that filled the room, a jumbled array of sounds which drowned whatever thoughts she wanted to have.

A part of her regretted not coming with Ritsuka when he had come around to invite her, but she was still trying to get the confidence she needed. With him at the door, she was sure that there would never have come a time for it.

Which would steal him away for the night, and she couldn't have that.

Her posture was tight, pulling herself inwards and walking just out of reach of others.

Worried that she could accidentally step too close and be drawn in, the corners of the hall seemed more appealing than ever before. A nice spot of shade out of line of sight where she could breathe.

She turned-

A hand fell upon her shoulder, a faint squeak rippled through her throat as she turned to the individual.

Her eyes craned upwards.

Quelaag stared down at her, expression unreadable.

Yet Mash could feel only relief as she noticed, first and foremost, the bright right jumper the woman wore. She had the feeling that it was part of why she had been stopped, but she could not ignore the sense of ease she felt. Her tight posture loosened slightly, turning full to face the Rider and exhaling.

"You're wearing it."

"After you dropped it at my room and ran?" Quelaag answered, dipping her head low and releasing her hand from her shoulder. Quelaag brought it up, pressing it against the back of her neck and scratching. "You spoke of it but I hardly expected it so soon…"

Mash smiled, "I wanted to give it in person but there was-"

"You…" Quelaag clicked her tongue, not meeting her gaze. "It's fine. It's comfortable and hasn't set aflame yet. I suppose the little knight has finally succeeded in protecting the virtue of the maiden? Even if your aim has been a little off…you're not supposed to show this level of concern for the monsters, you know?"

The derisive words had Mash frown. "You're not a monster, Quelaag-san."

"Any mirror would disagree." She answered flatly, then folded her arms. "...My visage can hardly be called equal to yours, can it? A wonder you constantly walk around with a suit of armour, you fit this dress far better than that clunky metal plate."

Just like that, she was reminded of what she was wearing.

The room felt small all over again.

Her face felt rather warm. "T-that is-"

"You're going to need tougher skin, Mash." Quelaag muttered "You're much too easy to tease, you know?"

A hum, then Quelaag turned her head, smile crooked.

"Now where is that gallant master of yours? Surely we can expect a knight to come sweeping in for the fine maiden?"

"Mash!"

For a split second, she thought the voice imagined.

But when she felt the set of eyes upon her back, she slowly turned and then found herself already calling out to the speaker.

"Sen-"

She froze solid, barely aware of the sputter of Quelaag from right behind her.

No, she had much more important things to worry about.

Senpai in a dress.

Senpai in a dress!

Senpai in a dress!

The words drummed louder and louder in her head, everything else fell into muted silence. The world went quiet, all that existed was the sight before her. That being Ritsuka approaching with an ecstatic grin, adorned in a blue dress that looked tailor made for him.

He stumbled, catching his foot on something.

Mash had him in her arms before she even noticed she had moved, hands braced at his shoulders and stopping him from meeting the floor. Yet she did not once tear her eyes away, instead they now roamed freely. Absorbing every detail of the sapphire blue dress and the way it clung to the Master.

Her throat bobbed and swallowed a lump of air.

The noise was loud, loud enough that she was shaken from her trance.

"A-are you alright, Senpai?"

"Yeah." Ritsuka chuckled, stepping back but actively reaching out, his fingers gently lay themselves upon her forearms. Her eyes snapped down to the gloves, staring in wonder and finding her attention stolen by how soft they were.

"Still not used to walking in heels. This is really tough, mind you."

"You…dress…you…amazing…"

Mash was sure she had meant for that to sound like a coherent sentence, yet her nerves sabotaged her at the last moment.

The heat crept through her once more, aware that her hands were still holding on tight around the shoulders of Ritsuka. She did understand that she should have released him by now, yet when she attempted to transmit that message through her mind, she found that it did not reach her arms.

They remained fixed, glued even, to the shoulders of Ritsuka.

With a small flex of strength, she righted the boy and looked at his face.

…Why was her heart beating so slowly?

There was a methodical thud in her chest, where it should have been hammering a hundred miles a second, there was instead a slow and steady drum. It was too slow, too calm. She knew what she was feeling, her thoughts a whirl trying to understand everything, yet in her chest it was a singular thud, one after another.

"...Fancy a dance?"

"Yes."

The speed at which she answered surprised herself, Ritsuka looked momentarily surprised. It was a strange thing to see, she supposed, when she thought of him. There was this aura of collected nature about him. Even in the times when he looked panicked or on the backfoot, there was still that sense he would turn things around any moment.

Looking at him now, she did not see that.

He just looked…surprised.

It was a battlefield, Gwynevere had told her, and Mash reacted accordingly.

The moment of weakness was capitalised on, her body moved immediately and she took one arm into her own and moved it outstretched. Her other dropped onto his waist and then she stepped to the side.

She was unsure where this strength had come from, but she held onto it. Wishing that it would not leave her.

All the while, her chest beat out a slow and steady rhythm.

Her face felt stiff, or perhaps stoney. Without an expression, she led her Master back towards the dancefloor and into a space enough for the two of them.

She did not know what she was doing.

Her Master almost stumbled, yet her grip on him stopped him from falling over.

She stopped, jerking them both to a rather sudden halt, another stumble and Ritsuka almost went slack. Legs shuffling as he nearly toppled down to the ground, she gave another tug and pulled him back to his feet, letting his heels stand tall. He had a good few centimetres of height on her, he always did.

…So why did he look so small to her now?

It was so strange.

Yet she stepped forwards, it was a small thing yet it felt like such a massive stride, Ritsuka dragged along with her. Still with that expression of surprise that he hadn't corrected.

She was getting used to it.

Then she stepped backwards, then to the left, then to the right.

Step after step, push after push.

It was more like a march with her carrying a weight around, for a moment she felt that feeling of shame in her.

Unsure if Ritsuka was actually happy.

Then she heard a noise, small at first, but it grew louder and louder.

She saw his lips close, then tremble, she met his eyes and saw them burn brighter under the lighting. The mirth swept through them, he turned the grip in her hand and clasped it between his own fingers.

Such a movement should have yielded a flustered reaction from her, perhaps it would have any other time.

Yet she felt none of that.

His hand slowly placed itself on her own hip and the shock slowly morphed into a smile.

"Let's do our best then."

It was all he said, between his faint laughs, and then he matched her step.

Or tried to.

The end result was the two of them making an awkward fall back and forth, once or twice they might have trodden on one another, yet neither reacted to it.

They just kept staring at one another.

Mash felt her lips twist, curling upwards.

It was a clumsy display, certainly embarrassing to watch.

…But she didn't care.

Because right here and right now, it just felt like the two of them tumbling around.

Mash smiled, Ritsuka smiled back.

It was a moment broken only by a sudden shocked gasp, only then did Mash realise there were others in the room.

She turned on the noise, it sounded alarmed and she almost went into a defensive posture.

Only to freeze when she saw what the source of the noise was.

It was…it took her a moment to realise that it was Ash, but the fact he was a woman again threw her for a couple of seconds, but that was hardly what caught her eye, nor was it the fact Ash was wearing a rather flattering dress.

No, it was the beat red face of the Director held in the arms of Ash, having fallen back so that she had little leverage on the ground, her body at a rather sharp angle with only the single arm of Ash keeping her from hitting the ground.

Just as quickly, Ash pulled her back to her feet and held the arm up, giving the Director a short spin before letting her go, the woman stepped backwards and stared with wide, rather surprised, eyes.

Even Mash was at a loss.

…She had no idea that Ash-san was so good at dancing.

Ash brought her arm down, then with one arm folded over her midsection and the other behind her back, she gave a singular bow of the head before rising up.

"I apologise if my performance was unsatisfactory. I have never danced before."

"Me next!" Ritsuka called out from right in front of her, she whipped around and stared at him.

"Senpai!" She cried out. "I wanted to ask Ash-san first!"

And she did.

Ash-san had made it look so easy, she hoped that a little bit of time would let her learn something.

Ash blinked, then turned on them with furrowed brows. Tilting her head to the side. "You want to go next?"

"Hoh~"

There was a voice, Mash turned and blinked.

Scathach sauntered through the crowd, in a dress which matched the colour scheme of her regular attire, with a black laced accent.

There was a sharp smile on the face of the woman.

"I believe that I am entitled to a dance." A brief pause, then she made a half-hearted measure of glancing at Mash and Ritsuka. "To ensure that it is safe for Master to be held in the arms of such a person."

Mash knew right then and there that Ash would accept the logic.

Sure enough, the blonde gave a single nod of the head.

"If you feel that wise, I accept."

Scathach smirked. "Excellent."

She stepped forwards, then immediately took the Avenger into her arms. "Then, perhaps, we can see if your talent for dancing is as good as your talent for fighting?"

---

Blackbeard was making a mental note of everything that was happening here.

"Hey, Sammy?"

He felt the Angel turn on them, a questioning aura permeated through the space between them.

"I ever told you how much I love Valentines day?" He continued on, lips pulled into a wider smile. "I mean, I had no luck with women this time…but I got to see this."

A pair of women doing a romantic dance?

It was a blessing.

A blessing.

"Finding meaning in the joy of others. A most worthwhile feeling it is. I'm impressed with you, Edward."

Blackbeard cast a look towards David and raised a brow. He supposed he understood what the man was speaking of, but there was little doubt he might have misunderstood what exactly Blackbeard was so pleased with.

Well, he wasn't going to bother correcting him.

"Yeah, sure." He answered curtly, shaking his head. "Not like anyone is going to ask me for a dance, let's face it? Actually, I sort of hope they don't. I can't dance."

A surprised look came upon the Archer. "You cannot?"

He sounded genuinely shocked, as if he had not been expecting this turn of events.

"What the-when would I get the time to learn how to dance?" Blackeard stared back, incredulity warped his features. "Our concerns were looting and robbing, not 'can I do the tango?' or 'Do you think we might step on toes during a slow dance?'"

David chuckled, raising his hands in a show of surrender. "When you phrase it like that, I'm a touch embarrassed to have even asked. But as some have demonstrated, you hardly need to learn how to dance to enjoy yourself?"

They both turned to the source of the dull drumming, the heavy cracks - like a hammer on metal - which had been playing as a backdrop to their conversation.

Havel stood a short distance from them, great arms folded over his chest and otherwise completely still. Standing like the statue his stone armour depicted him as, save for one small break in the image.

That being his right foot, rising and falling in a tap along with the rhythm.

Blackbeard and David glanced back at one another, the former held back a grimace.

"You find me a girl who'd dance with me, and I'll go out there and do the splits."

David smiled wryly, then paused and glanced at something just over Blackbeard's shoulder. The pirate blinked and turned his head, his brows immediately shot clean up his forehead as he stared at the sight before him.

"...The…hell?"

Sammy had used the conversation between himself and David to make an escape, but that was not what managed to shock him.

It was the fact he had gone over to where the twin Goddesses and Asterios resided and had lowered himself to the ground, resting on one knee and with his body performing an archetype bow, like that of a prince finding the princess he had searched of for so long and armed with a rose and a card.

Sammy extended the rose hand outwards, into the hands of one of the Goddesses - Stheno, he assumed - and then brought themselves back into the air, turned and drifted back towards himself and David.

"...What…when…how…what?"

Sammy drifted past him with nary a hint of acknowledgment.

Blackbeard blinked twice more, then opened his mouth to speak…he paused when something moved in the corner of his eyes, his sights turned up and squinted at the shape floated through the air towards him. It took him a few moments to understand that it was some manner of paper creation, an origami bird.

He blinked and watched as it twisted and opened up, falling down towards him.

He did not know why, but something told him it was precious.

Shooting his hands out, he snatched it before it could fall to the ground, holding it out at arms length, he pulled it closer and looked down at the paper. Then he immediately noticed the writing across it.

Good tidings come to those who wish it upon others.

For you, who offered prayers of happiness upon this day.

Take this blessing from the Goddess of Fortune.

Enjoy your Valentine's day.

Blackbeard lowered the paper down, then brought his eyes up and stared at nothing.

"...I got a valentines day card."

David's hand fell upon his shoulder, clapping it twice.

---

Hanleth felt it through the base, the warmth and resplendence.

It seemed everything was going according to plan, which was good. It was a relief to feel something go well. To know that there was no danger of things going wrong or some hidden disaster brewing.

Instead, she felt a sense of serenity.

She took this as a victory for her, even if she had made meagre contributions. Nothing beyond pointing individuals towards what she felt they would succeed at. But then again, that was always what she was good at.

Pointing people in the right direction to enjoy themselves.

Pacing through the empty halls, she moved for the direction of her room.

With the party in full swing, she would be able to have a stress free nap and then hear about how well everything had gone later-

Something panged through her mind.

Her feet slowed and she came to a stop.

Her brows furrowed, her head turned and she searched for where the sensation had come from. It had struck from somewhere beyond her mind. Like something bouncing off the side of her head and vanishing into the distance. Yet it did not quite leave without an impression, the unmistakable sense of…loss…

She felt her body recoil from the inside out, the feeling was old. Rusted, chipping away and made her skin shudder. It had been a loss which had festered for so long, perhaps longer than she had lived, and was somehow still living. It never healed. For her, it was something that she found disgusting on every level possible.

For her, who existed to bring bliss and joy, this was as welcome as fire was to wood.

Her mind drifted for the sensation, the path it had retreated was mapped and she was moving towards it. She had rarely ventured far beyond her own room, but this was something that she would not rest until she had seen.

Her steps brought her closer and closer to whatever it - whoever it was - that had sent out the emotion.

Then she stopped and stared.

A faint scent hit her nose, one she knew quite well, even if she had never partaken.

Alcohol.

A frown, the rusted feeling was dying away, but it was akin to being drowned. As if someone had taken it by the back of the head and forced it down. Driven it under the water and held it there, thrashing and snarling, to try and keep its offensive nature from bothering anyone else.

From bothering her.

Yet even that reprieve was unwelcome, for she knew it would not die from such an effort.

Her hand reached out, her sleeve slipped back and her hand extended beyond the jumper, pressing flat against the control, the door slipped open and revealed a room with low lighting. Compared with all else in Chaldea, this room was far flung from what the others were.

Shelves lined with glass bottles beyond a waist high wooden wall.

Rows of stools positioned along the perimeter and in the far corner, she glimpsed a shape moving.

Her feet carried her forwards, drifting towards the sight and her heart slowly dropped as she recognized the shadow.

"...Uncle?"

"H-hmh?"

It was a muffled grunt of surprise, the shadow turned on her. Even with their dim lighting, the twin eyes of gold still glowed. Looking right through her, as if unable to place what she was, and then they brightened with clarity, and with no small amount of shame. It burned through them immediately, his head whipped away and back to the table.

"...You should be at the party." Her uncle spoke, a slow and forced calm. Yet she could hear the faint crack, whatever wall was keeping his emotions at bay was already failing. Perhaps it had been failing all night. "You put such effort into it, t'would be wasted if you were not present to see the fruits of your labour."

Hanleth moved closer, footsteps nothing more than gentle patters on the floor.

"I go where it is needed for me to spread bliss and joy." She replied in a soft voice. "It has always been that which drives me…pleasing as it would be for me to watch over the party, to see the faces of those who benefited from my meagre aid…it is not where I am needed as of this moment."

"...You do not need to be here for this." Her uncle took in a breath, it was a dry heave. Sucking in whatever moisture would have otherwise coated his words. "Go. Do not spoil your night by standing in my shadow."

Hanleth stepped closer still, until she was right beside him.

Her eyes glanced at the bottle in front of him, then she reached out and slowly took it by the neck. For a moment she imagined his arm snapping out, grabbing her and pulling her away from her intended action.

When she turned, she looked at his eyes and saw them staring back at her.

Even sitting, he was still looming above her.

Those golden eyes shone with defiance, a subtle warning for her to not push further.

…Hanleth did just that, the drag of glass across the table was loud. A veritable shriek that obliterated the silence and sent the tension soaring high. Neither broke gaze with the other and Hanleth did not stop until the bottle was at the other side of the table.

Still within arms reach of her uncle, if he wished to be petty about it.

The defiance in his eyes faded, replaced with resignation.

He slowly turned away from her and looked down at the table. "...Stubborn. Like your mother."

Hanleth felt herself give a wry smile. "I have been told that before."

She glanced to the side, then back to her uncle. With renewed determination, she moved around and lowered herself into the chair at his table. Pulling herself closer and then sitting, a smile on her lips and her hands resting flat on the surface. Her uncle merely spared her a short glance before he grumbled something under his breath.

That pang of loss spoke something ugly to her now.

And she felt a great swell of pity.

"...I never thanked you for your help, Uncle."

He made a small noise and nodded his head.

"...I should have taken her dancing."

Hanleth froze for a moment, then fell silent.

Her uncles words came out as a hollow whisper, perhaps he did not even realise he was speaking them aloud.

"...Just once. Perhaps just once. I should have."

He slowly lowered his head, the gold in his eyes dimmed until they could not be seen.

"...Next time. I told myself. Next time I will…and I never did."

Hanleth sat there, staring at him in silence.

Neither said anything.

Perhaps it was for the best.

---

The party had gone from chaotic to quiet.

Yet it was a silence filled not with comfort, but with an encroaching sense of dread. Especially as many observed the speakers and microphone being placed at the very head of the hall.

There were some who hoped, who prayed, that it was not what they thought it was going to be.

Ritsuka could only watch with a perturbed sense of dread as he watched the familiar colour scheme take shape. The knowledge of who was about to start singing settled in his mind like a log in water. Sinking to the very depths and just lying there, unmoving no matter what he did to try and shift it.

No matter what comforts he tried to use.

He took a long drink from his refilled glass, the punch was certainly fruity enough to please the palate, but it lacked the necessary strength to knock him into slumber and allow him the chance to sleep through the performance.

Except, he told himself, that even if he could achieve that he would likely be dragged back into the waking world and slapped by the music.

"You're a Master." Olga said, watching the same thing he was. "You could stop this."

Ritsuka could only shake his head, all the force of a man resigned to his fate long ago. One who had run through the motions, the performance of begging and pleading a hundred times in his mind and was just waiting for the inevitable so that he could look past and find something else.

"You could leave." He replied back, a wry smile on his lips. "No one would blame you. Some might even join you."

Olga let out a mirthless snort. "What sort of Director runs away while her staff are in danger? Besides, it's bad manners to excuse oneself early without a good reason…and she would notice my absence."

There were quite a few who fit into the category of 'she' when used in that manner.

But the director was right, Elizabeth would notice her absence and he could imagine all sorts of scenario's spiralling from that. None of which would end particularly well for himself or for the Director.

Because it meant they would put up with more singing.

"I could make up an excuse for you."

The brief hesitation was all he needed to see to notice that Olga was actually debating it within her mind. There was a brief flash of temptation in her eyes, the offer was a tantalising one. Yet, all too soon, that flash vanished and was replaced with the same resigned look that was worn in Ritsuka's eyes.

One that he imagined he would have seen if someone held a mirror to the pair of them.

With the knowledge neither of them were going to escape, Ritsuka changed topics.

"So how was your flight?"

He smiled at the flash of heat which spread across Olga's cheeks, even as she turned on him with narrowed eyes, a warning in them. He felt his smile grow just a hair wider as he came to his own conclusions.

"I'm jealous, you know?" He replied, nodding towards her. She blinked and straightened. "You got to ride on a dragon. How cool was it?"

Her narrowed gaze dissipated, she turned away and took a shallow sip.

"...It was memorable." She tried to downplay the effect, but Ritsuka saw through it all the same.

With a faint nod of the head, he turned and looked back across the room. "I'm glad."

"...You knew who Berserker was, didn't you?"

"I suspected, yeah."

He could feel her eyes on the side of his head, but he knew what to say.

"I don't blame you for not noticing, I probably wouldn't either." He ran his fingers through his hair, longer than before, and smiled a bit softer. "You met him at his best, so that was the image that stuck with you. You can't deny that putting them side by side like that would be difficult for anyone to see."

And it was.

Because the change in personality was as sudden as it had been tragic, to see the Berserker go from one thing to another. Even if he had been an enemy, he was one that Ritsuka could understand to an extent.

Though it was for the Director to really put herself in his shoes.

They were both fighting for the same reason, just on opposite sides of the board.

"...Hmph." It was a faint grunt, one that just acknowledged his sentence without giving an answer.

When he turned to look at her, she was no longer staring at him and instead at something across the dance floor. Something that caught her interest, it piqued his own and he soon turned and felt a hint of shock, but it quickly changed into surprise. Mostly at himself that he had not realised.

"...It makes sense that he's a fan, doesn't it?"

Olga grunted and nodded, now wearing a more strained pull of her lips.

Well, the sight of Kalameet happily clapping away to Elizabeth's singing was certainly something else.

It made Ritsuka feel a bit good that there was someone who welcomed the performance and enjoyed it. He certainly imagined Elizabeth loving his enthusiasm as a fan.

"Oh."

Ritsuka spoke, then turned and reached for the underside of his dress, pulling it upwards. The brief sputter from Olga was lost on his ears as he moved for the small pocket that clipped onto the side of his thigh. It was supposed to be used for hiking, but he found an alternative for it.

Pulling it open, he slowly pulled out the paper bag with the right note and turned back to the Director, pausing only when he saw her gaping at him.

"Wh-you can't just pull your dress up like that?"

He blinked. "Why? How else am I supposed to get to the pocket?"

"Poc-what sort of dress has pockets?"

"Well." He said, offering a faint shrug. "Not this one, that's for sure. I had to pull out one of the holder strap pockets and clip it to my thigh. Who makes clothes without pockets anyway?"

That earned him a dubious glare, as if she couldn't quite believe what he was saying.

Then she looked down at the bag and raised a brow. "What is-"

"Happy Valentines day." He reached across, giving the bag to her before she could finish.

She blinked once, then twice. Then looked at the paper bag and raised her brows as if it was going to explode on her.

"...Huh?"

"What?" Ritsuka felt a smirk on his lips, "I might not be able to throw you onto my shoulders and fly through the air, but I wasn't going to let valentines day pass without showing you my appreciation."

"You…" Olga blinked once more, still visibly struggling to process what was happening. It was rare to see her so thoroughly lost. "You gave me…"

"It's not chocolate." He felt the need to warn her, then paused. "Well, there is chocolate in them but they're biscuits. Had to make a lot of them special by hand and that took a while but I wanted to show everyone I put thought into their gifts. Gave little bow and arrow cookies to Arash, boat cookies to Tametomo…I gave Kojiro bird cookies as well."

"Then…" Olga tentatively reached across and pinched the bag between her fingers, slowly taking it between her own hands after setting her glass down at their shared table. "What did I get?"

Ritsuka nodded for the bag, feeling a sense of excitement and trepidation.

She got the message and gripped the top between her fingers, a swift pull opened up the crimson wrapping and she paused, then glanced down to the small note he had written. A brief frown and she pulled it open, looking inside.

He could tell when she had finished reading it, because she looked at him.

Truly looked at him.

"I could get Kiyohime over here and have me say it again if you don't believe me."

"That isn't…" Olga swallowed, a thick sound like she was forcing back a lump of emotion. "That isn't necessary."

Pulling the bag open, she peered inside and froze.

A hand slowly snaked in, ruffled for a moment and came back out.

Rounded cookies, the external design was simple but the decoration was where Ritsuka had really decided to pull out all the stops.

Because each of them had icing made into the logo of Chaldea.

"Haven't baked in a while and some of them might be sloppy." He felt the need to explain, if only to stop the sudden rising of heat in his neck. From where, he did not know, but it felt a bit strange to have them looked at so intently. "I was getting really tired at that point but…As long as they taste good, right?"

He stopped speaking when he noticed the small thing in the Directors eye, she noticed it as well and reached up, wiping it away before anyone else could notice. A wet sniffle came next as she lowered the cookie back into the bag and pulled it closer to herself.

"I will…I will eat these later." She declared, then made a general motion to herself. "Crumbs on the dress."

"Yeah, makes sense." Ritsuka nodded, then shuddered. "Never realised how many nooks and crannies there are in these things."

That made the Director snort. "Yes, well…you're the one who wanted to wear it."

He had to give her that.

"...Wanna get matching next time?"

"Don't push it."

He would have taken her more seriously if she wasn't smiling.

---

Epilogue

Ash glanced at the bag of biscuits, then back to Ritsuka with a raised brow.

"I will not-"

"Me and Siegward mixed Estus into them."

Ash fell silent.

Ritsuka smiled and nodded. "You'll be able to have them without any problems. Trust me on that. Though I was at a loss for what to make yours into the design of, but after a couple of ideas, Siegward eventually gave me one that seemed a bit good."

What could he say?

The teenager looked rather pleased with himself, proud even. Ash watched him precious few moments, the expectation in his face. He knew that he was not going to be told and that he would have to find out for himself.

He glanced back and slowly peeled the thin paper bag open.

"I would have written a message but you can't read so…" Ritsuka took in a breath. "Ash. Happy Valentines day. Thank you for being my Servant."

He glanced back at Ritsuka, the boy paused then added on.

"And thanks for the dance."

The dance? Ash hardly felt he did anything special for that. He had been left with the impression that he had continually done something wrong, judging by the way those who danced with him were either the sort to smile too wide or look away with red faces.

The belief he had made a fool of himself lingered for quite a while.

He had vocalised the thoughts aloud when he sought out one who would actually understand the problem.

Arjuna had been less than forthcoming initially.

In the end, all he said was that Ash was better than could be expected for a beginner and nothing else.

It was admittedly high praise from the former dance instructor.

"It was expected of me."

Ritsuka snorted. "Ash, no one expected you to do that."

"But I will offer my appreciation for the food-" Ash glanced down into the packet, pulling them wider before he blinked and slowly reached it. Taking the top cookie out and examining it. The shape was close enough that it could be mistaken for nothing else. "...An Estus flask."

When he looked back, Ritsuka looked a bit prouder than before. "I was worried it wouldn't be easy to spot, but I'm glad it was."

It was more than he expected, much more.

"...Ritsuka." Ash lowered the cookie back into the bag and closed it, with his other hand he moved across to his bottomless box. "I had been meaning to find you, but you discovered me before. Thus this can be called a transaction, I believe you are accustomed with."

The teenager actually looked surprised. "You got me something?"

"I…had spare materials from Nobunaga's gift and it seemed wasteful to not put them to use."

That had been his thought process at the time.

But the design he had made was far from useful in any real sense of the word. Rather, when it was finished, whatever had compelled him to see this whim through to the end had departed and he was left staring at the finished product with a hint of exasperation.

Marginal disappointment that he had let himself be drawn away from the practical.

But he had finished it and destroying it would have been an even bigger waste.

It came out with a gentle grasp, like the slightest touch would shatter it and spoil what he had made. Not that he cared much for it now, yet he would not vocalised it.

He reached across and handed it to Ritsuka, who seemed to be at a brief loss.

"...This is a…you made this?"

The awe in Ritsuka's voice surprised him, briefly.

"I did."

"You…" Another surprised look, Ritsuka twisted the item in his hand as he looked over every inch, then lowered it back down and cast the eyes on him once more. "You really went out, didn't you? I mean, it's great but…you really set your mind to it, huh? So what is it anyway?"

Ah, he supposed it would make sense Ritsuka would not know.

"...We called them bonfires." He replied. "For undead and unkindled, they were what we would return to upon death."

For a moment, Ritsuka did not move and Ash wondered if the boy even heard him.

Then Ritsuka's smile started to freeze over, becoming more fixed onto his face than a natural one. His eyes dropped down onto the model of the coiled sword with a sense of unease. Slowly leaning away from it and apparently coming to terms with the true weight of what he was actually holding in his hand.

Watching the transition between emotions left Ash feeling decidedly uneasy.

"They were locations of safety as well." Ash added on. "Sanctuary. A bonfire was where others would gather and find peace. A limited amount of nothing in the chaos that was the world."

The unease dissipated with his words, but he had told nothing unusual.

With a slight slump of his shoulders, Ritsuka cupped the small clay model with both hands and looked down at it. Inclining his head ever so slightly, a furrow in his brows and a small hum escaping him.

"This is…it's really special, Ash." He looked back up and smiled, smaller and softer than before. "Thank you…Oh, did you ever decide on something to give to Mash and the Director by the way?"

"I was on my way to them after you." And he had done so, working under the suggestions of Da Vinci.

A bookmark for Mash and a titanite talisman for Olga.

The latter had required some minor assistance from Da Vinci, but he had still done most of the work regarding it. Though he would give the Caster her due credit when it came to presenting the item to Olga.

All Covenants had some manner of physical symbol to identify their members.

"I won't keep you then." Ritsuka responded, nodding his head down. "Enjoy the cookies, Ash. Oh, and did Nobunaga like her present?"

"...I believe she made her thoughts clear on it."

Ritsuka seemed to infer enough as the smile widened a touch, then dimmed. "And…you?"

"I am…content that she will make use of it."

With pursed lips, Ritsuka levelled him with a measuring stare, as if trying to answer some question he was posing to himself. It remained as such for a few moments, then he gave a slow nod of the head before speaking. "I'm glad to hear that. I'd be on the lookout though, she'll probably be eager to get you back for it."

"She alluded to something along those lines, yes."

A wry smile. "Yeah, figured."

---

He lowered the weight onto the desk and slid it across.

Olga glanced down at it, then raised a brow. "It's…"

He knew where her surprise lay, it had been fashioned in the same design as the symbol on the wall behind her. Though this one was made from no common metal and would endure for quite a bit.

Yet that alone was not the sole reason that he was gifting it to her, and it was something more than he had let slip to Ritsuka.

"All covenants have medallions to identify their members. It seemed fitting that the first would be awarded to you…though I do not expect many to take up on this."

Olga jolted, then reached across and gently took it into her hands. He saw the sight tension in her wrist from the movement. The medallion likely being heavier than she anticipated. Ash internally chided himself for failing to understand the differences in their strength.

Her fingers ran along the surface, lips pursed and slowly she nodded her head.

"...I hope you have a good valentines day." Ash nodded his head, then turned to leave.

"What's these symbols on the back…?"

He glanced back, sure enough she had flipped it over and spotted the glowing symbols carved into the back. They held no meaning, nothing more than scribbles or scratches. But it was what they had been done with, what they were supposed to do, that gave them the true meaning.

"Da Vinci provided greater focus to the summoning stones." He explained, Olga looked to him with a silent request for more. "...That is a summoning sign…for me."

"For…you?"

Ash nodded his head in silence. "Though I would be unsurprised if you did not accept it. All the same, I felt the need to offer. If there is a moment where you require my aid, then you may touch that sign and I shall answer the call for assistance. It is all I could think to offer you beyond mere trinkets…"

His eyes lowered away.

"If there is nothing else."

He turned and made for the door, but he was not so far that he didn't hear her parting words.

"Thank you."

---

Ritsuka hummed to himself as he made his way back to his room.

It had been a rather successful day, if he did say so himself. Though the real credit went to the ones who had gone above and beyond the party. So that naturally meant he would need to track down Hanleth and give her an additional thanks beyond the valentines day cookies he prepared for her.

It was a shame she hadn't attended the dance, but it was up to her.

Another look was aimed for the clay model held between his fingers.

He hadn't said anything, but it felt warm to the touch. Not uncomfortably so, but enough that it would turn an eye.

And it hadn't cooled since he started walking, there was no evidence that the temperature was lowering even the slightest.

Perhaps Ash had intended it to be as such or perhaps it was just a happy accident. It could even be that it was his imagination and that one day it would be cold. For now, he would let his imagination run wild. It felt easier that way, more comfortable.

When he looked up, he saw he was approaching his room.

Pulling one hand away and towards the button and pressing it, the door slid open and allowed him to step inside.

He stopped and blinked at the other figure already within his room.

"Ah-senpai?!"

Mash turned around and faced him, eyes wide and slightly panicked. He was unsure which of the two of them was actually more surprised to see the other.

"This isn't-I was worried you were sleeping again and wanted to check to make sure and-I promise I didn't come in here because I thought you were away!"

"I…never considered that." Ritsuka replied slowly, offering an unblinking gaze for the girl before he shook his head and relaxed. Giving a cursory glance around the room and offering a faint smile. "But you don't seem to have been the first one to stop by either and-"

He stopped only briefly when he noticed what was in her hands.

The helmet that he had seen Lancelot with in the elevator.

He jerked his head towards it. "New headpiece?"

"Hm?" A blink, then she looked down and gave another one. As if she had forgotten it was even in her hands to behind with. When she looked back to him, turned her head up and stared into his eyes. He could see the barest hints of confusion lining her gaze, there was a hint of gratitude, but it was as though that was why she was confused to begin with.

"Ah, yes." She began, clearing her throat with a soft noise. "Sir Lancelot approached me in the hall and put this on my head…I…I understand why he was doing it, I think. I believe he was concerned about my exposed head but it was…odd."

Her eyes lowered, she brought the helmet up and stared at it, becoming lost as she peered into the deep coloured metal.

"...I didn't expect him to do anything but when he put it on my head I wasn't…surprised."

Ritsuka hummed and nodded. "Sounds as though he's looking out for you now."

His words sent a jolt through her, Mash seemed to remember where she was and jerked backwards and up. Her eyes wide and shocked. "Eh? Ah, that…I'm not sure why though but I am…It was a very thoughtful gift, wasn't it? But I'm not sure what I did to deserve it-"

"Deserve has nothing to do with it." He cut that thought short with a shake of the head. "Lancelot gave you that because he was looking out for you. I think, at the end of the day, that's what really matters. And from the looks of things, some people are away giving me pieces of armour as well."

He cast a wry glance to the items in the corner which turned his head, a rather large shield and a spear laying beside it. The rounded brass coloured metal had a note plastered on the front of it. He stepped forwards and looked down, peering at it. Though he could already make a guess as to who had done that.

Happy Valentines.

I hope to see you use this in training.

Leonidas.

"...I've got my work cut out for me in the future, that's for sure." Despite the foreboding nature of the note, Ritsuka took it in good humour. Much the same with the spear, which had come from who he could only assume was one of the Cu Chulainn's, given the appearance of it and the runes carved into the side.

Which could have either been a spell or just been a message wishing him good fortune.

"Don't worry, Senpai. I'll be there to cheer you on."

He felt a twitch run across his face, his lips pulled up as he turned back to Mash. "I'll be sure to save the extra embarrassing moments for when you're there to watch."

Mash's response was a rather exasperated shake of the head. "I think you would do very well, Senpai and…I could give you some pointers. With the shield I mean."

"I don't think I'd be quite as good as you." With a light hearted chuckle, he could already imagine him trying and failing to wield Mash's shield, or any sort of shield, and stumbling around, dragged along by the weight.

Mash frowned but said nothing, not until her eyes dropped down and caught sight of what he was holding. He followed her line of sight and held it up for her to get a better look.

"Ash has been spending the last few days practising his clay sculpting. He made Nobunaga a pretty nice tea set and then made this for me…called it a Bonfire."

She gave a small nod of appreciation.

"He said they were places that undead gathered around or would revive from after…death. Though I like to think of the former rather than the latter. Easier because the meaning is a bit nicer. The idea that even in the very worst, there are some small points of sanctuary where people can just sit around…"

A faint chuckle, he moved for the table near his bed and gently lowered the bonfire down.

"Reminds me a bit of Chaldea, actually."

He reached down to the drawer and pulled it open, spying the crimson packet immediately and taking it out. Turning around and moving back towards Mash.

"But on the topic of Valentines day presents…"

Mash abruptly locked up, staring at him with wide eyes and looking between the paper bag and him. It was somewhat amusing, watching as she slowly connected the dots over what was happening in front of her. Especially when her eyes eventually bulged and she took a half step backwards.

A faint gasp puffed out from between her lips.

"Eh…you…?"

Ritsuka put on a face of faux surprise. "You didn't think I'd have let Valentines day pass and not give you anything? Though I did make cookies for everyone - and I've still got some deliveries to make - these were the first. Thought it was fitting, given who the recipient was."

"You…Senpai you…" Mash sniffled a little bit, then reached across and pinched the top of the bag between her fingers. Lifting it from his hands and immediately moving her other hand to support the base, cradling it as though even the slightest breeze would have sent it careening to the floor.

The rustle of paper as she opened it was louder than any other, and Ritsuka felt acutely aware of his surroundings.

It was a bit nerve wracking for him, more so than any other time.

"They…" Mash stared inside, then reached in and pulled one of them out, her surprise never once leaving her face.

There, in her hands, was the small shape of her shield made in biscuit form.

"Happy Valentines day, Mash."

"...T-thank you…" Another crack of the voice, she lowered it back down and took in a short breath, then glanced to the side. Redness creeping into her cheeks as her head ducked low. Immediately, her expression was concealed from him, but he made no effort to chase her down over it.

"Senpai…" She brought her head back up, then took in a sharp breath, and nodded to something behind him.

He turned and stopped.

How had he missed that?

Sitting on the bed was a cake, one layered with slices of strawberries and made into the image of a heart.

"Happy Valentines Day, Senpai."

He was barely aware of Mash speaking in the background, as all he could see was the cake sitting on the bed.

"It…It was my first time making something like that and I had help from the others in the kitchen, so I really hope that it worked out. We have a few mistakes along the way and I know that Archer-san won't be happy if-"

Her words faded to the backdrop, little more than muffled noises. All he could hear was the sound of his own footsteps as he moved to the bed and stared down. His lips parted and he could not contain his surprise.

"...All I gave you were biscuits…"

Mash had gone and baked him an entire cake and all he got her were some biscuits.

…He felt as though he'd really let her down.

"Eh?" A small noise of confusion, then one of panic. "No, Senpai. The biscuits are very nice! I'm fine with them, really! I'm sure they're great! You didn't need to do anything special for me. I was…uhm…"

Ritsuka coughed, then stepped back and placed his hands on his hips, blowing air out from between his teeth.

"Was this how Nobunaga felt? I'd believe it…J-just you wait." He turned on Mash, forming a trembling smile. "Next year I'm going to blow it out of the water with an even bigger cake for you, Mash!"

Mash jolted in surprise. "Eh? Wait, I thought-but you don't need to-"

"Nope!" He declared, voice echoing around him. "You're getting a cake next year and there's nothing you can do to stop it. Resign yourself to this fate, Mash Kyrielight."

He glanced once more at the cake and smiled. "...It's a big cake."

Mash gave a guilty flinch. "We…we might have gotten carried away…in all the excitement…"

Ritsuka turned and gave a wry look. "I think you can be excused for that…do you want to stick around for some?"

Now she looked baffled. "But it's your cake, Senpai-"

"Mash." Ritsuka cut her short with a shake of the head. "I am not going to eat an entire cake in one sitting and I'll be damned if I don't let you at least have something a little more than biscuits for Valentines…besides…I'd be pretty happy if you'd have at least some of it with me. I'm sure we could borrow some tea."

There was a brief pause where Mash looked to respond, but it was halted when surprise flashed over her face. "You like tea, Senpai?"

"...I'll be honest, I don't know." He shrugged, but his smile remained. "Though it's never too late to find out!"