By the Bonfire: Ghosts

"I would strongly argue against doing this at the present moment."

Martha tried to argue, try being the optimal word to use in this situation, as she was coming quite close to dropping pretenses and just giving the boy a good shake for being as stubborn as he was right now. Watching him trudge down the corridors, clearly exhausted from a long exercise session, and then talk about going to summon Servants.

She was reminded how reckless youths could be in that moment.

While she would certainly praise his determination, she was sure there would be plenty to support her and say that it should not come at the sake of his own health. More to the point, the fact that Mash was not currently with him was further proof that he was aware of how it would appear.

Her master, infuriatingly enough, shot her a smile that was supposed to be reassuring, but there was a noticeable strain on the edges of it as he looked at her.

Her response was a flat expression, arms folded over and looking back, searching for further signs of his exhaustion. To her mounting frustration, she found plenty of them. The faint bags under the eyes from restlessness, the way he had been all but dragging his limbs and the beads of sweat dripping down his brow.

The more she looked, the more she felt her frown deepen.

A faint tugging pulled at her mind, some other notion started to form in her mind as she stared at the Master. Most of these symptoms looked less as a result of excessive exercise and more because of something different and far more troubling.

A lack of sleep.

Martha regarded him, then stepped forwards, the gap between them closed as she reached a hand towards him and dropped it onto his shoulder. It was nothing more than that, yet she could immediately feel him stabilise himself on her grip. As though his body had been craving the support she was now offering.

He noticed it too, she could tell.

The smile he wore had faltered and looked close to crumbling, his eyes darted down to the hand and he dropped his head. Left arm rising, Ritsuka ran his fingers over his eyes and breathed out, his posture deflated like a balloon and he slumped while standing, the pressure on her hand intensified.

He was leaning onto her now, she wasn't quite sure if he would have collapsed without her, but he would have certainly stumbled.

"No summoning today." She ordered, giving him a faint jerk to bring his eyes back towards her, she kept her expression solid. "You're clearly not in your best condition and I am not going to allow you to make your situation worse."

He opened his mouth to respond, but she would not grant him the chance.

She was sure he would have come up with some half-baked explanation about how fine he was or how he would recover in short order. It was the sort of reasoning she had heard a dozen times before. She tolerated very little of it from her own siblings and she would tolerate none of it from her Master.

"If you will not heed my words, then perhaps the words of some of your closer allies?"

That was enough to get him to shut his mouth, his eyes darted to the side and she felt him waver a little.

She pressed onwards and without mercy.

"I am certain that Doctor Romani would be quite upset to learn of what you were just about to put yourself through, or the leader of this place who clearly wishes her subordinates in peak condition…"

A beat, she drew in a breath and exhaled.

Her gaze softened.

"They would be concerned about you and rightfully so. Not least of all there is the young girl who follows you around. It is clear you set and example for her…would you wish for her to be doing this if your positions were reversed?"

Ritsuka's rapidly dropping features were answer enough, but sometimes words needed to be said aloud. With another small jerk of the shoulder, she got him to at last look her in the eye, an expectant glance from her was all it truly needed for him to shake his head and give a small whisper.

"...No."

Martha nodded in satisfaction. "For now, you would be best off returning to your room for some rest, Master. I am not against the idea of us drawing in more allies…in principle."

She had qualms about some of them they had drawn in.

But at the very least, she knew that her Master was far from pleased with them as well, the lack of attention shown to the false saint and the way he was being followed around and observed was not lost on anyone. Much the same with the craven pope and the rather insane bloodletting divine.

A relief, she supposed, but she would have been more comforted if they were not here at all.

But that was not her choice to make.

"Come on then, Master." Martha pulled and turned him back around, he made no effort to resist her strength. She was curious if he even had the ability to do that in the first place, but it was a thought for another day. "I'll be sure to inform others that you are taking a well deserved break."

"Yeah…a break…" She barely heard his muttered words, but the way he spoke them sounded unpleasant. Spying him out of the corner of her eyes, she watched as his expression twitched for a moment, he nodded his head and started to walk more on his own, pulling away from her.

Martha kept pace with him, not willing to let him out of her sight until he was actually back at his room.

And they hadn't gotten a moment to truly talk with one another like this before, it would be remiss of her if she didn't take the chance and get to know her Master a little better. Though she hoped that, at the very least, he wasn't just reckless and stubborn when it came to ignoring his own health.

"How was valentines day, by the way?"

It was an odd question that admittedly threw her for a loop.

At least for a second or two.

Regaining her wits, Martha smiled more genuinely. "It was a comforting day, to be sure. Even with the knowledge there were a couple who sought to use it for their own ends…I believe the good outweighed the bad."

She was hesitant to mention it, but she wasn't going to lie.

Ritsuka seemed to infer what she was talking about, judging by the grunt he gave, then he turned and looked at her slowly. His eyes looked for something, or some sort of reaction, but she mustn't have had what he looked for, as he nodded once more and exhaled.

"That's a relief. I was worried that Sulyvahn would have done something."

"You know about that then?"

"I…" A pause, Ritsuka's expression soured. "I've gotten a feel for what he's like and it's petty. He's petty, I mean. At least when he wants to be and we're not really on proper speaking terms at the moment. I know he won't try anything…or I don't think he will."

His unease was troubling, but Martha let out a small hum.

"Men like him are very much the type to enjoy the spotlight, or the credit." She remarked, having also felt as though she had an understanding of his character. "He will not sacrifice his chance by doing anything reckless, his arrogance would not allow him the opportunity to avoid it…Though you are correct, I do believe he will push to the limit of what is acceptable, but never beyond."

His shoulders dropped and she felt a pang of guilt for speaking so openly about it, perhaps it was not what he needed to hear at the time. "Rest assured that I will step in-"

She trailed off, watching as Ritsuka brought his hand up and rubbed it along his temples, as though nursing a sudden headache which left him reeling. The twisted expression and the groan which formed in the back of his throat made her stop walking, she reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder once more.

Exhaustion and frustration were taking a toll on him, it seemed.

And this did not look to be a recent revelation.

"...This is not the first time you have been exhausted, is it?"

Ritsuka did not respond, he merely glanced at her with the sort of face that a caught rabbit would look at one with. The nervous tension, where both were waiting. He wasn't going to give her an answer and if she forced further, he was going to clam up even further.

Honestly.

It was completely ridiculous how everyone was under the impression that just bottling up their emotions would help them.

…She tried to ignore how her own words could have been aimed at her, but that wasn't the time for it.

"Have you spoken about it to someone?"

Ritsuka gave a faint smile. "...Sometimes…"

That was good, Martha decided, as long as he was getting the chance to open up. She did not bother to hide her relief, the smile on her lips grew slowly and she gave him a comforting pat before withdrawing her arm from him.

"I am willing to lend an ear if you wish."

"I'll try not to make a burden out of it-"

"Burden?" Martha disliked the way he had phrased it, he flinched and she realised she had been a little too hard in her tone. She rolled her jaw, drawing herself up straight and pursuing her lips. "It is not a burden to be troubled, Master. It is natural for everyone to experience these things. They are not shameful and hiding them from the world does not make your soul any stronger. That is to say…do not think your feelings are a sign of weakness or that showing them is an onus task for your comrades."

"Yeah, I'll try."

To her it sounded as flippant an answer as one could truly give, he was doing nothing more than saying it.

She fixed him with a strong look for a few seconds, watching for signs of his attempt at appearing calm to collapse. To his credit, he endured for quite a bit longer than she would have assumed, but before long he turned his head from her and resumed his march down the corridor, the fact he sped up to put some space between them was not lost on her.

Martha watched him go, then dropped her shoulders. His back to her, he did not see the pitying look she was sending his way, but perhaps he felt it if the way he ducked his head told her anything.

It was unfortunate that one so young had been slapped with such a burden, but there truly seemed to be few other options for them.

And to be surrounded by such controversial figures as well…

Taking in a breath, Martha straightened.

All she could do was ease the weights that chained themselves to him in whatever capacity she could do. Not merely because she was a Saint, but because it was the right thing for someone to do as well.

And if that meant forcing him to take care of himself better, then she would push right the way to the front of the line to drag him by the ear.

…That sounded violent.

A good thing it was, she thought, that it remained in her head rather than spoken aloud.

Ritsuka closed the door behind him and stepped towards the bed, he'd been trying to appear less tired than he was but Martha had seen right through him.

A sigh slipped from between his lips as he got closer and closer, eventually whatever strength had been puppeting him around decided it was time to take it's leave of him. With nothing to hold him up, Ritsuka abruptly felt gravity wrap itself around him and pull.

He dropped forwards, slumping face first into the bed and feeling a dull ache shoot up his knees as a thudding sound echoed around him. The sound of his legs roughly striking the floor a cruel reminder of how tired he actually was.

Martha was probably right, trying to summon someone after exercising with Leonidas was a bad idea.

If he had done so, he probably would have passed out in the summoning room there and then.

His brows twitched and his mind slowed as he felt something further along the bed press down, the definite feeling of a weight settling on the bed. Then the sensation of fingers resting on the back of his head, curling themselves through his hair as if it was grass and then pulling along.

It barely even occurred to him that someone was just stroking the back of his head as if he was a dog.

Though that thought was secondary to the knowledge of who it was.

"...Why are you here?"

His words came out muffled, with his face pressed into the blankets without the strength to turn his neck, all he could do was speak and hope that whomever was there could understand whatever he was saying.

Evidently they showed no problem, as without even a hint that they had difficulty in discerning his speech, the voice came back.

"Is that not obvious?" Was the swift reply, amused as the stroking continued. It was a vaguely comforting action, even if it felt a little embarrassing. Yet with how sore his body was and how tired his mind felt, he doubted he was going to be doing much in the way of shooing off the person on his bed.

"I'm really tired right now so just…"

The fingers slowed and fell still, then rose up and down twice.

"Yes, I can tell." A whisper, a soft one at that, with so few words it was as if the voice understood everything about him. Far more than the physical exhaustion he felt. "She was right, this is certainly something you need…and sleeping in this state is hardly going to be easy for you."

The hand retracted itself from the top of his head, the weight removed itself from the bed to his left.

Footsteps, gentle ones upon metal came next, nothing more than a mere couple of them until they were right behind him. The hairs of the back of his neck started to turn up as the feeling of being looked down on blanketed him. He could feel the eyes on him, almost as if he could see them.

Yet even then, he flinched a little when the hands fell onto his shoulders and slowly started to pull him up, turning him over and dragging him further along the bed. His eyes widened and then squinted as the light of the room poured itself into his eyes.

Snapping the shut and giving a low and pained hiss.

The voice let out a sympathetic coo as the stroking came back, this time on top of his head.

Slowly, his eyes peeled open and filtered out the light, he found himself staring up at the face of Kiyohime, the Berserker smiled down at him but did nothing to stop her actions.

"You can start resting whenever you want, I will make sure that no one disturbs you."

His eyes closed again and he slowly nodded his head. "...Thanks."

Ritsuka wasn't sure how long he lay there, but before long he could tell that no matter how tired or exhausted he was, sleep wasn't going to come to him. He knew why, though, and there was little he could do about it.

Because even when he closed his eyes, he could see them.

"You're still awake."

Kiyohime saw through him easily, it seemed.

He hummed in response. "Can't sleep."

A gentle sigh fluttered through his ears, one that was as indulgent as it was concerned. It seemed that even when he tried to do what he was told, he was causing problems for other people.

"You don't need to stick around-"

"Of course I do." Kiyohime cut him down, a quiet firmness in her voice, not even willing to debate with him about it. He heard it in her words, the strength behind them and how nothing would get her out of his room now. Not even if he ordered her.

He wouldn't, but that was the impression he got.

So he just lay there and exhaled.

"Are you alright, Master-sama?"

"Fi-"

"I will remind you, Master-sama." Kiyohime started at first, a gentleness in her tone but it shifted to a polite warning as she continued. "That a lie told, even with the best of intentions, remains a lie…so I will ask, you need not say anything further, but all the same…are you alright?"

Was he alright…?

…

…

" ...No." He felt his voice crack in his throat, it wavered in his ears and he wasn't sure if it was his imagination, but he felt a dampness build up around his eyes. A hiss came out from between his lips next, he brought up his right hand and formed a fist, dropping it down onto his forehead and pressing down.

He wasn't alright.

"I-I was finally being happy and then…then I just saw them again…it was all over my hands and it was on my face and…and then…"

He said nothing else, all that came next were whimpers.

Because every time he was happy, he saw it.

He saw it play out with such perfect clarity.

And he hears the voice each time, the voice that speaks with such gentle kindness even as it uses his body, forcing his hands to rebel against him. The sensations still played out, he remembers how hot it was inside, when his fingers pushed through the skin…

Ritsuka keeps remembering.

Another inhaling breath, he feels his body shudder as he draws in the air. Another cracked whimper escaped, a hitch in his breathing and then he turned onto his side, pulling away from the hand on his head and facing the wall.

He drew himself in, curling up into a ball and laying there.

Sleep never came.

He just forced his eyes shut and lay there for what felt like hours.

His hands still felt hot, and wet…slick with something sticky.

Yet whenever he opened his eyes and looked down, they were clean.

Except they weren't.

He knew they weren't.

"I'm not going anywhere, Master-sama."

Kiyohime whispered, he felt a hand press against his back, the flat of a palm between his shoulder blades.

"You can let it all out. I am going nowhere."

Ritsuka mutely nodded his head.

But sleep never came.

Another thud in the distance, his eyes remained hazy as he watched the arrow miss the target, striking the ground just before it - perhaps a few centimetres - and burying at an odd angle.

Ritsuka lowered the bow and stared, his dry mouth making it difficult to swallow anything.

His eyes shut themselves, he took in a steadying breath as he moved to get another arrow, only to pause as he turned and glanced down. A brief pang of frustration swelled within him as he stared at the now empty quiver where the arrows should have been.

With a slow creak of the neck, he glanced to the field and stared at the evidence that littered the ground, the proof that he had spent the last hour missing every single shot no matter how hard he tried to aim.

At least, if his aching arms hadn't been proof enough of that.

Though he had long since lost any real feeling within them, rather it was at an odd point where he felt very little except for some occasional jolting motion as he raised the arms and drew back the bowstring, yet he noticed he had been getting further away.

That latest arrow had been the closest since he started.

Another sharp exhale burst from his nose, taking with it the irritation he had been feeling, his head lost tension and hung low. His numb arms dropped down and it was only through what little power was left in his hands that he didn't drop the bow. Or perhaps he just couldn't uncurl his fingers anymore to drop the bow.

It didn't matter, he trudged forwards to the arrows, dropping down to pick one up each time he passed them by. Before he knew it, he was stood before the clean target, the circular design with the multi-layered rings which lacked even a single hole to show he had been doing anything.

There was something oddly fitting about that.

It brought a tight smile to his lips and a glazed look in his eyes, he could do nothing else but smile at it, even if it didn't feel particularly funny to him.

Shaking his head, he turned back around and pulled himself to the starting line and dropped the arrows back into the quiver with a muffled sound of shuffling wood. Yet when he moved to grab the next arrow to start the process all over again, he felt the sharp pain shoot up from his wrist right the way to his elbow.

His fingers spasmed, a hiss and he jerked the hand back, dragging the arrow with him and sending it clattering to the floor.

Ritsuka turned his eyes and stared at his right hand, watching his fingers twitch for a moment longer before they went slack. Yet he still felt the numb sharpness, as though someone had dragged something cold right the way up his skin and left it there.

A click of the tongue and he dropped the arm back down and brought his head up, his eyes closed once more and as he faced the ceiling.

"It takes a long time to master."

His eyes opened, they jerked downwards and found the source of the sudden speaker. He blinked and straightened, caught between surprise and anxiousness as he saw Arash stood not too far from him.

Arms folded over and a polite smile on his face, the man looked to have found himself in a comfortable spot, the sort that one only got after being there for some time. Which left him slightly curious as to how long the Archer had been there.

Curious and a little worried that Arash had seen his little tantrum.

"How long-"

"Not long." Arash did not wait for him to finish, instead speaking with a shrug of the shoulders. "A couple minutes at most? I came to practice and saw that you were already here and didn't want to disturb you…you seemed pretty focused on it."

Ritsuka snorted and glanced at the target, the clean face mockingly staring back at him.

"Yeah…That's one word for it."

He heard the sigh and turned, Arash stepped away from the projected tree he had been leaning against and approached, there wasn't any particular rush to his steps and the Archer wasn't even looking at him. Despite that, Ritsuka couldn't help but feel a little intimidated at the sudden approach.

Though he couldn't explain why that was.

"It's no good to be doing this for relaxation and then getting annoyed about it." The Archer spoke again, coming up next to him and reaching down into the standing quiver, taking out one of the arrows and holding it up, his eyes sliding along it from tail to head as he held the shaft between his fingers.

Twirling it around with frankly childish ease, the Archer gripped it in his left hand and pointed the tail towards Ritsuka's face, giving a faint sympathetic smile as he did so.

"But I've been where you are."

Ritsuka could understand that, logically at least, but being told about it felt slightly patronising. He didn't want to feel that way, but it was uncontrollable for him.

Arash's expression twisted, the man frowned then exhaled. "Sorry, that might be a little insulting. Not everyone can become a great Archer and I'll admit that I probably did have a bit of a talent for it, but you don't need to be a great bowman for everything…You're not aiming to slay a man, just inner demons."

The arrow was lowered back into the quiver.

"And that is the most dangerous foe of all."

Ritsuka exhaled. "...Mine are probably winning."

"That's how it works." Arash gave a grim nod, raising his eyes to meet Ritsuka's. He was given pause as he met the Archer's gaze. There was a deep sadness within them, as though spoken from experience.

Though it was short lived, the light which had dimmed gained a second flame.

"But there's always time for a counter attack." He smiled, "Even if you never truly win against them, you can always strike them down as they appear. You just need to be confident enough that you can defeat them. Don't doubt their existence, doubt their chance for victory."

Ritsuka ran his tongue along his lips, then swallowed.

"...Do you have them then?"

"More often than you'd expect." The Archer replied without missing a beat, then turned his head and glanced towards the target. His arms came up and rested upon his hips. A short inhale and then a quiet exhale. "Just as many now as when I was alive too. Might be the same for all Servants or perhaps just me but…we all ask ourselves ' will I be good enough?' or ' Will I protect my master in this fight?'"

Ritsuka hummed and nodded, "I'm worried about messing up."

"Well, we're only human." A wave of the hand, the tone of voice being so carefree it was as if that was the only answer to give. It was rather impressive the level of confidence, but he remembered who he was talking to a moment later. "We all make mistakes."

Mistakes…

Ritsuka tasted the word and found himself souring his face, it didn't come close to describing it.

A mistake was forgetting to take the bins out for collection day, or spelling a word wrong during a test.

People died because of him.

"...That's not a comfort."

He lowered his head down, turning his hand over and staring at the command seals with a grimace.

The feeling of someone staring at the top of his head brought his eyes up, Arash looked down at him with a sympathetic smile. "Yeah…ultimately all you can ever tell yourself is that you'll do better next time. Sometimes it's true and sometimes it isn't…at the end of the day, it is the belief you'll do better which keeps you going. Otherwise you'll always mess up."

Easier said than done.

His eyes dropped down again.

Arash took in a shallow breath, then spoke again in a slow and quiet voice, almost reassuring. It reminded him a little of how someone would approach a frightened animal.

"This is you preparing to confront your demons, isn't it? And they're not on the face of a target."

Ritsuka slowly shook his head.

"...Does Mash know you're walking around like this?"

"..."

He didn't answer, he could not bring himself to speak. Yet the silence that followed was truly deafening, and it all but screamed the truth for anyone with ears to hear it. He hadn't told Mash about his feelings, because how could he possibly dump something like that upon her?

It was his mistake and he didn't want her worrying over him for something he was responsible for.

He just needed to keep going forwards.

Keep going forwards.

…but it was hard when his eyes kept drifting over his shoulder.

"I can't force you, but she'll find out sooner or later." Arash responded and Ritsuka felt himself flinch, because he knew that to be true.

Mash would eventually pick up on what he was doing if he didn't control it and he didn't want to think about how it would look to her.

As if he didn't trust her enough.

He did.

But it was difficult to articulate.

"I…I want to summon Mordred and Percival back."

Silence.

Arash took in a sharp breath and grunted. "...I see."

Ritsuka looked up and saw the man without an expression, instead he had his arms folded over and was gazing towards something in the distance. It was probably nothing, a quick glance revealed that, but he soon found himself looking into the same nothingness as the Archer, the empty scenery provided some small comfort to him.

"...I just…"

Words failed him, his throat jammed up as he tried to get them out.

"You don't know what's going to happen if you do?"

"...I don't know what's worse." Ritsuka found himself saying slowly. "If they remember or if they don't."

Arash grunted. "Servants aren't supposed to remember past summonings."

Ritsuka clenched his fists tight, the feeling of the bow digging into his palms made him wince. "But the ones summoned to Chaldea do for the most part and…and if they don't then that means I…"

It meant they were gone.

The Mordred and Percival of London were well and truly gone.

It was why he avoided them during that resort, because he didn't want to confirm it to himself but he couldn't avoid it for long.

"I…I see it sometimes…feel it."

"...Yeah." Arash said little, but it was better just to have him there.

"...They died."

"Mmmmh."

"I killed them."

"...No you didn't."

"I did-"

"Master-"

"Everyone told me not to trust him." Ritsuka scoffed, feeling his jaw roll from side to side, the weight in his head pressing down on him. "And I did and then they died because of it. I was supposed to be better, supposed to be someone that they could rely on and then…"

He turned and looked at the Archer.

"How can I look them in the eye after all of that? How do I stare Sir Percival or Sir Mordred in the face and ask them to trust me when the last time they did that it got them both killed?"

Silence greeted him.

Arash slowly turned his head and looked down at him, betraying nothing with his expression.

"There is no answer to that, Master. You have a whole plethora of Servants who follow you into battle time and time again, who come here to help and if you don't trust yourself with them then…"

He shrugged.

It was such a simple action but it felt as if he had been punched in the gut, all the air driven from him.

"You're gonna make a lot of calls in the future and some of those are going to get Servants killed. Some of us are going to go out on our own terms while others…others probably won't and there is no avoiding that."

Raising an arm, the Archer held up a single finger.

"If and when Sir Mordred and Sir Percival answer a summons, it's not them you need to convince."

The hand was lowered and then pushed forwards, the Archer pressed a single finger into Ritsuka's chest, all while never breaking eye contact with him.

"It's yourself. Not even as a Master, but a person who doubts their own judgements won't get far in life. It is through your actions that you prove they can trust your judgement but first and foremost…you need to prove it to yourself."

"...How?"

"I'm not you, Master." Arash lowered his hand and shook his head from side to side. "And I can't give you that answer. Not a single Servant in Chaldea or a single person can really tell you how you can trust yourself. None of them are you."

The face of the Archer hardened, but Ritsuka felt at ease about the expression.

He stepped closer to the Master and brought his hand down, dropping it on his shoulder and rolling his lips inwards.

"Listen." There was a quiet firmness in his voice. "This right now. This is where your toughest battles are going to be fought. Not against your enemies, but against yourself. You need to look deep down, to stare those demons in the eye and say ' I will defeat you.' and then push them aside."

It sounded so simple.

And yet…

"...What if I can't?"

To that, the lips of Arash curled upwards into a smile.

"That isn't the question, Master." Taking in a breath, he tugged on his shoulder and spun him back around to face the target. "The question is…How many punches do those inner demons need to take before they get the message? If they still aren't enough? Well…You're allowed to rely on others."

Ritsuka turned slightly. "But you said-"

"I said no one can give you the answer." Arash agreed, then chuckled. "I never said they couldn't support you."

Arash stepped forwards and then gripped his left wrist, pulling upwards and jerking his arm along. With a carefree smile, the Archer pulled out the arm and then held it out straight, moving the other hand to his right and bringing it up. He curled Ritsuka's fingers around the bowstring.

Then he let him go, it was a challenge not to lose his position then and there.

All the more puzzling when Arash flicked his hand and instead of grabbing one of the arrows Ritsuka had been firing, he summoned forth one of his own and nocked it into the bow string.

Moving out of sight, he could feel the Archer standing behind him, then two hands dropped down on either shoulder.

"That target has already been struck, Master."

Ritsuka blinked. "Huh-?"

"It's been hit and it just doesn't know it yet. The moment it challenged you was the moment it lost. All you're doing is turning that vision into reality."

"But-"

But he had spent ages firing and missing, was he suddenly supposed to hit it now?

"Now then." Arash inhaled. "Breathe."

Ritsuka hesitated, then sucked in a breath, yet when he went to exhale, he felt the hands on his shoulders tightened their hold just a little. It was a silent signal for him to hold his breath, he froze up in tha position as Arash kept him there, seconds ticked past.

"Look at the target, Master. It has already been struck."

There was a pause, then the Archer spoke again.

"Tell me."

Tell him?

Ritsuka furrowed his brows. "It has already been struck?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do, it felt like he had been dragged into some sort of training scene from a manga. It felt a little absurd to him, but he was left with the stronger impression that Arash was not going to let this go.

His arms felt terribly sore, even holding up the bow was proving to be a herculean task.

"It has already been struck." He repeated the words from earlier, a bit more confident this time but it was still daunting.

"You still don't believe." Arash chided, he could practically feel the man shaking his head behind him. Imagining the look of exasperation before it hardened. It was there in his words, the gentle firmness. "I can see it, Master. Clear as day, your arrow has already struck the target."

There was that confidence, that unyielding determination in the voice of the Archer.

Such was the surety that Ritsuka was starting to believe it himself. There was just something laced within the words, some sense of absolute certainty that felt far beyond encouragement.

It was actually a little scary how quickly he was making Ritsuka believe.

"It's been struck." He repeated the mantra once more, this time it was louder. He put more effort into it and was caught off-guard by the fact he believed it himself. Or at the very least, he was more open to the possibility than he had been before.

Yet in the moment the words settled, he felt the ache in his arms.

He was never going to pull the bowstring back.

"You tell me this, but your doubts are flowing through you like the Karun. Don't worry about your arms, don't even worry about the bow. All you need to remember is that the target has already been struck."

It was hard not to focus on his arms, he could feel them trembling.

"Repeat it once more."

"The target has been struck."

"Again."

"The target has been struck."

"Again!"

"The target has been struck!"

"You can see it?"

He could feel it at the very least, that thrumming confidence inside of him as he stared down at the range and looked dead at the target. All the while he repeated the words inside of his head, they grew louder with each start. A chant in his mind that was booming, blocking out every other thought that would have surfaced.

It was easier to say that his doubts were just drowned out, while still present, they were smothered under the shouting of Arash's demand.

"Draw!"

Ritsuka hissed and pulled, his arm tugging back, the resistance of the string and the sharp pain he felt in his curled fingers. It was a burning that ran through his right arm, coiling in his shoulder and practically screaming at him to let go. But it wasn't time yet.

If he let go now, then he wasn't going to hit the target.

"Loose!"

The words were a sweet release, he pulled his hand back and the string twanged, he felt the woosh of the arrow soaring past his face and for a split second, he heard the shrill whistle of it passing through the air. Then he heard a different sound.

A dull crack.

He froze up on the spot, ignoring his trembling arms as he stared at the sight at the base of the range.

The arrow had struck the target.

It was no prize winning shot, no dead centre guided impact. It had hit the target right at the very edge. Another couple centimetres to the right and it would have flown away into the dirt once more.

But it hadn't.

Because the target had already been struck, even then, even if he repeated that.

Ritsuka felt a breath jump out of his throat, it escaped as a gasp of disbelief, he lowered his trembling arms and stared, eyes wide and brows raised high. He was sure he was gaping like an idiot, the shot was remarkably poor and yet, to him, it was the best one he had managed so far.

"Now that…that is a fine hit."

Arash's words jerked him out of his reverie, he turned and opened his mouth, but was a touch too slow as the Archer beat him to it.

When he met those eyes, he saw a hidden gleam in them.

There was a sense of knowing inside.

"You hit the target, Master." Arash's right hand came up and pointed downrange, fixing his attention on the target. "That was all you needed to do. All anyone needs to do. The battle against our inner demons starts with a single step. It might not even relate to the problem at hand…but it begins there."

He felt a hand pat him on the back and usher him forwards, before long the two of them were marching towards the final resting place of the arrow, still lodged into the outer rim of the target.

"So how are you feeling?"

Ritsuka blinked, the sudden question threw him for a short loop before he responded, all without truly thinking about it. The answer just burst out of his throat, accompanied with a slight smile on his lips.

"Pretty good."

"You decided then?"

He went to answer, then he paused and furrowed his brows. Something sprung up towards him as he turned on Arash, the Archer looked down with a wry smile on his face. But there was something that had just occurred to him at this moment.

"...You just wanted to take my mind off it as well, didn't you?"

With a small shrug, Arash leaned backwards. "I won't deny that, but my words were aimed for that as well. The two might not be linked in any meaningful way, but you need to look at the future and decide if this has already happened. So I ask you, Master…are you going to summon Mordred and Percival and face it head on?"

He opened his mouth to answer.

A hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"It is not something that needs an immediate answer to me." A shake of the head from the man. "It is you who needs the answer and you need to believe in it. No one would blame you either way if you were uneasy about it…"

Now he was feeling confused.

"But you said-"

"I said you needed to find the answer." Arash responded. "I never said what sort of answer it needed to be."

Even if he said that.

Ritsuka was sure there was only going to be one answer.

"...Thanks for the lesson, Arash."

A more open smile formed on the lips of the man, Ritsuka felt a more hearty pat on the shoulder as the man laughed a bit louder. "Any time, Master. If you're looking to pick up archery as a hobby, I can give you some tips and tricks along the way. Though I figure that Gwyndolin would probably be more over the moon if you asked him."

Ritsuka offered a half lidded look at the man.

Arash just gave a shameless smile.

Arash watched him walk away, though his eyes could already give him some indication of what the boy was going to do.

Taking in a short breath, he exhaled and looked back at the target.

For someone who had only just started, the Archer would admit that the kid wasn't bad. He wasn't the most talented he had ever seen but if he kept on working at it, he was sure that eventually he might make for a fairly alright archer.

Reaching forwards, he took the arrow in his hand and pulled it from the target with a grunt, twirling it between his fingers before allowing it to fade away back into magical energy. The wisps of light floated off into the false breeze, he brought his hands up and dusted them down before turning his head to a distance away.

He met the eyes of the crow perched in the tree.

Slowly, he raised a brow.

His hands dropped to his hips and he stared, waiting for them to make the first move.

"That was certainly kind of you."

The crow spoke with a distinctly feminine voice, unsurprising given who it belonged to, or rather who was using it.

Arash exhaled. "I just did what anyone should have done. Give him the little nudge in the right direction…and isn't that what you did? Slipping notes through the underside of my door, really?"

With a small ruffling of feathers, the crow let out a gentle laugh. "I believe he would have been less receptive to my words on the topic and, truth be told, anything I offered would have felt disingenuous. Even if we have spoken…I believe he might still hold strong feelings on that."

Arash was at least thankful she had some semblance of self-awareness, taking in a short breath, he turned back to the door.

"...Just hope he's going to be alright."

"Hope." Velka's voice responded in a distant and almost wistful tone. "What a rare commodity. Perhaps he will or perhaps he won't…all he needs to do is accept what he is responsible for and what he isn't…the two blend together for him so easily. Yet that is the folly of inexperience, with time he will understand."

"He didn't need to understand like that though."

There was a short pause.

For a moment, he assumed that the crow had vanished.

Yet when he turned his head, he saw that while that was the case, it had been replaced by something else.

Perched in the branches, sitting with a blank expression on her face, was Velka herself. Her eyes fixed on the back of the retreating Master as he ventured beyond the doors, disappearing out of the simulator and going to who knew where, he would have guessed the summoning chamber.

Velka kept silent, then he heard her give a quiet sigh.

"No, he did not need that to be his first experience…And it is a sin I shall correct."

Arash watched her for a moment, then nodded to himself.

She was genuine, at the very least.

To say Mash was surprised when Senpai had suddenly shown up at her door to ask him to come with her to the summoning chamber was accurate, though not for the reason anyone would have expected.

This time felt different in a way that Mash couldn't quite put her finger on.

Senpai felt unusual, not quite how he would normally be like, which made her slightly concerned. Maybe he didn't realise it, but when she saw his eyes as he asked, there was something within them that just made her drop everything else and go with him.

Not that she would have said no, but it felt like she couldn't say no.

Thus she followed him all the way to the summoning chamber and took notice of the silence that accompanied them. It was foreboding, like a cold blanket pulled over her that wouldn't warm no matter how long she lay there. Yet when she thought to speak, she found that whatever words she wanted never seemed to emerge.

As if there was something forbidding her from saying anything.

Some hidden figure that had clamped a hand over her mouth and left her with little but her own presence, for whatever that was worth.

Yet staring into the back of Senpai's head, watching as he walked forwards, she couldn't help but feel as though being there was all she could do.

Mash hoped in her heart that it was enough.

When they came upon the doors to the summoning chamber after the trip, Senpai just stopped walking and then stared. She watched his posture tense, a faint inhale and then an exhale came. Then again and again. A stream of breathing which seemed to puff him up each time he did it.

She watched with a sense of…

Mash felt her heart ache as she stared at him like that.

From the way he was acting, it was as though he was prepared to walk through those doors and put himself into some unbearably terrible position. As if, on the other side of them, there was nothing but pain for him.

At that moment, she felt a strong desire to just grab him, turn around and then go back the way they had come.

Perhaps she could find a nice jigsaw puzzle for them to do together, she was certain there were a couple of those still hanging around in the cupboards, if they hadn't already been put together by some bored Servants, that was.

"They've already been summoned."

His voice drifted in the silence, a faint whisper that just barely reached her ears, but she could tell it was something directed to him.

"They've already been summoned."

Again, this time a little louder and with a touch more confidence.

Yet when combined with the image he presented, it sounded more like a warning.

Then before she could even think of a response, he reached out and pressed the button for the door, opening it up and taking the first step into the room. She hesitated for barely a moment, then followed him inside while keeping herself quiet.

Her eyes drifted to the window where she could already see Romani finding himself a seat, yet when she saw his face, there was only unease. There was a sharp pain hidden in his features, as if he was about to watch something unpleasant.

Mash felt her guts tie themselves into knots, a deeply unsettling feeling nestled itself into her heart, her eyes swerving between Ritsuka and Romani as the silence dragged on. Long and agonising, likened to someone pulling nails across a chalkboard.

"Senpai? Are you-"

"Sorry, just…taking a little time to psyche myself up." He turned around and faced her, offering the same smile that he would always do.

…No he wasn't.

It wasn't like other smiles, it was…it looked fake.

Like he was the one trying not to worry her.

"Senpai…" Mash found her words and stepped forwards, she did not reach out to him, but the mere act of closing the distance was clearly enough. Ritsuka's expression slowly faltered until the smile was replaced with a small downturn, not quite a frown but not quite a line either.

His eyes dropped, as did his shoulders.

Then they closed and he nodded his head. "Just…can you just stand here for me, please?"

"Yes, Senpai." There was no hesitation in her words and she answered with all the strength she could muster. She was not going to be going anywhere and whatever it was that he was going to do, she would be right there for him.

Because that was her role as a Servant.

She wasn't going to let him face danger all by himself, even if she didn't understand how she could help with this.

But perhaps she did something right, he smiled at her and this one felt genuine, even if it was small.

Turning to Romani, Ritsuka spoke out. "...Lets do this."

" Fujimaru-kun." The voice of the doctor came through the speakers, she could hear the strain in his words. " We don't have to do this right now-"

"Roman." Ritsuka replied back, she found herself surprised by the near demanding nature of his words, but when she looked into his eyes.

They looked sad.

Evidently that was all he needed to say, Romani nodded slowly and then moved to the computers.

" Initialising Spirit Origin retrieval of encountered Servants. Saber Class and Lancer class. Preparing for summoning."

Saber and Lancer?

Mash inclined her head.

Then something pushed into her thoughts, right to the forefront.

Saber and Lancer.

The attitude in the summoning chamber.

Her eyes whipped towards Ritsuka and widened, her mouth opened to say something, but too late as Romani spoke once again, words of finality.

" We have contact. Summoning in progress."

The pillar of light was bright.

Even as his eyes winced, as his pupils recoiled from the intensity, he did not blink, nor did he turn his head.

Instead he kept his gaze straight ahead and looked into the light before him, as though the moment he blinked, it would wink from existence and he would be left staring at a blank space and nothing else.

Wind billows past him, the pillar of blue started to twist, splashes of crimson light stretched across it, jagged and violent, like lighting the scarlet threads lept from the pillar and struck the ground, sparks and hisses followed yet he did not even so much as twitch at them.

Nor even when the gentle comfort of a brighter light came.

A warm embrace washed over him, like that of a nostalgic encounter and a reminder of gentler times.

It was a fleeting thing and just as quickly as it had come, it vanished along with the violence of the first.

The light of the room dimmed.

Two figures stood upon the summoning pad, both standing tall and proud. Though different in stature, they were equal in presence. One was akin to staring at a hurricane, a promise of untempered aggression and strength, while the other was like that of a great wall casting a long shadow.

There were no words exchanged at first, his own body abruptly felt as though it was no longer present.

Rather, he felt as if he was watching a scene play out, the sounds of the world fell to muted whispers and ringing.

The horned helmet hissed and snapped, opening up and clanking backwards to reveal the mop of ruffled blonde hair and bright emerald green eyes. Those same eyes widened as they turned to the one next to them, a jerked step backwards and a visible look of alarm, one that was barely matched by the taller man in bleached white armour.

He just looked down and save for the faint widening of his eyes, he looked barely shocked by the encounter, his posture hardly even twitched.

The two servants stared at one another, then through the haze the words of the taller knight filtered through his ears.

"Certainly not what I was expecting upon a summoning, yet perhaps it was more fool of me to not expect you to come, Sir Mordred."

"T-the hell is that supposed to mean?" The blonde sputtered, then gave a guarded frown. "What? You think I'd just hang back while all of Britain was incinerated as well and Camelot was forgotten? Hell no! Some punk thinks he can pull that shit…"

It was a grumble accompanied with a shake of the head, when the blonde turned they finally looked to him and blinked, as though seeing him for the first time.

"Eh? Oh, so you must be our Master…Masters?" A small glance in the direction of Mash, then Mordred squinted. "Nah, you're…you're a weird looking one, ain't you?"

"Mordred." Percival gave a small look of disapproval, one that had the knight jolt and click her tongue. "Forgive them, I am certain Sir Mordred meant no harm in their own way…but as for introductions. I am Sir Percival, Knight of the Round Table."

A brief silence.

Ritsuka didn't see an ounce of recognition in those eyes.

Mordred came next, taking up a breath and shooting an irritated look at her companion.

"Hah? Who do you think you are, introducing yourself before me…" A low grumble, then she soldiered forwards and puffed out her chest, mounting Clarent on her shoulder and shooting a sharp toothed cocky grin towards him. "Names Mordred. Heir of Arthur Pendragon. So you're the one who thinks you can call yourself my Master, eh?"

There was a hollow feeling in his chest.

Like someone had just reached in and scooped out all the emotions he was supposed to be feeling at this time.

Perhaps it was a small mercy.

Because he knew he would be feeling them later.

"...Welcome to Chaldea." He replied, keeping his tone polite. "I'm Ritsuka Fujimaru, and this is Mash."

Percival offered a short bow of the head.

Mordred made a face as if she had just seen something mildly unpleasant, her eyes looking him up and down from head to toe before letting out a grunt of affirmation. "...You a pen pusher or something?"

"...No."

"...You sure?"

"...Yeah."

A sniff and then a look of dismissal, "Right, whatever you say…"

Her head turned left and right, then she sauntered forwards and moved her left hand up, scratching the side of her cheek before speaking. "So…You summoned Father yet?"

"...A couple times."

Mordred whipped her head towards him and squinted. "...The hell does that mean?"

Ritsuka kept his smile on his face, because it was the only thing he felt as though he could keep. "We have summoned two separate iterations of Artoria. One is closer to the King while the other one is after she drew Caliburn."

Another blink.

Mordred leaned back and turned to Percival, "You can do that?"

Percival could only offer a small shrug. "Apparently you can. Though I am curious to meet a version of my King from when he still walked the lands of Britain with Merlin, Sir Kay and Sir Ector…I am certain it would be a unique experience."

"Yeah well…" Mordred was silent for a moment, then let out another scoff. "...Whatever, of course Father would be here."

She turned back on him.

"Do you…not remember us?"

Ritsuka stilled at the words of Mash, he dared not turn his head to face her.

Mordred and Percival, however, did and looked to her with some small amount of intrigue.

"No…well…" A brief pause, then the blonde knight squinted as her eyes darted between the two of them. "I mean…you look barely familiar, I think? Like I might have seen you but…can't place it. Past summoning, huh? Weird."

"Hmmm." Percival let out a faint hum as he approached. "Curious. I feel much the same, by your words we have encountered one another before, yet I cannot recall the precise circumstances…a pity, but I hope that the both of us distinguished ourselves commendably as befitting of knights."

Ritsuka jerked his head up and down. "Yeah."

It was a miracle his voice didn't crack.

"You…you were…we couldn't have gotten far without you at that time."

Mordred let out a bark of laughter, the grin on her face widened to reveal yet more teeth. "Course you couldn't! You had me on your side! Bet it was a piece of cake, whatever it was that you were doing…Oh…right…shit…guess you're a bit young looking, ain't you?"

Another muttered from Mordred, then a wave of the hand.

"Don't sweat it. Leave the heavy lifting to me and this guy…probably to Father as well. We'll have this incineration crap sorted out in no time at all."

Ritsuka nodded his head and slowly turned around, as he did so he saw Mash staring at him.

"Perhaps a tour of Chaldea?"

"If you would be so kind."

The smile slipped off his face the second he had his back to them, he moved for the door and opened it, stepping out into the hallway.

He was amazed he had kept his face as straight as it was.

Because all he could see through that entire encounter was the bloodied corpses of the two Servants staring right at him.

He paused and brought his hand up.

It was bright red, slick with scarlet.

He took out a shuddering breath and walked forwards.

Every fight started with a small step.

This was the first.

…He just had to keep going forwards.