Magecraft was a secret Shirou kept close, a world with him as the only inhabitant. He dared not draw others into it. He thought of Fuji-nee and Sakura. They breathed the same air, walked the same road, and ate the same food as him. They were his closest. He couldn't sully them with the pain that came with every use of magecraft, the ever present risk of death. Which is why Shirou locked the knowledge of magecraft within him, where, without him realizing it, the pressure of his secret accumulated like a dam. Safe, useful, but dangerous.

Caster was the only one with whom he could share such knowledge. They lived and traveled between the two worlds, accompanied only by each other. It was from her he learned the comfort of having a confidant. Someone he could speak to without reservation. There were no secrets he had to hide from her. Bottled questions were finally released from the confines of his mind. He would ask and she would answer, and that simple assurance brought a relief that cannot be understated.

Before he had met her, Shirou had groped blindly through the darkness, clinging to Kiritsugu's lessons with desperate faith. He took comfort in them through the years, for there was nothing else to hold on to. Caster had changed that. She illuminated the path forward, and he reaped the benefits to become better than he was.

Yet she had involved the innocent of Fuyuki, the people he needed to protect. Like pulling strings on a puppet, she had haled into conflict all of Ryuudou temple for her own gain. She sent others into comas, drained of their energy.

When Caster revealed what she had done, he was furious. But beneath the anger was an undercurrent of violated trust. There was an implicit understanding between them, Shirou thought. Together, they would fight to keep casualties at a minimum. He now saw this was a one-sided belief. Caster had a wish that she yearned to come true, the entire reason she had answered the call of the Grail. What lengths would she go to achieve it? Already, it was too far, and Shirou couldn't accept it.

Moral justification was a proper excuse for his action, but a poor remedy for his lament. From the very night they had met, Shirou knew how it troubled her to be called a witch, yet had denounced her anyway. He had chosen his words to urge her to stop, yet he had also aimed to hurt her. In hindsight, there must have been a better way of convincing her, but that chance was lost to him now.

From regret to frustration to anger and back to regret again, Shirou's emotions swelled and swashed inside him, undulating like black ocean waves. He felt them from under his fingernails, in the soles of his feet, the tips of his hair, restless as he scaled the familiar steps of Mount Enzou.

Ryuudou Temple bustled with activity. Monks clothed in fitted black robes over white churned in and out of shrines, sanctuaries, and gates. Shirou heard the bristled sweep of broomstick on stone brushing fallen leaves and twigs. The idle chatter of outside visitors rounded off the ambience of the temple, who were paying their respects before the wintry chill fully settled.

Were all these people under Caster's spell? Did they all have knives tucked under their breast, ready to loose at her command?

When he entered her residence, Caster was already aware of his presence. She stood perfectly still at the far end of her room. She was wearing the dark cloak that shrouded her entire body, hiding her eyes from sight. He hadn't seen that attire since they first met.

Shirou couldn't read past her mask of placidity. He knew she was upset, but little else.

Behind him, the latticed wooden door slid shut and closed out nearby sound. Attached to the ceiling, a luminaire lent the walls an incandescent yellow light. Her closet was fuller than before, but there were few other changes in her room.

"Caster," he ventured. "We need to talk."

"So you've come, boy," she said. The reuse of that moniker stung more than he'd like to admit. "Are you ready to apologize?"

Shirou wanted to, he truly did. But that desire was quenched like a matchstick in snow. He had a greater responsibility to adhere to, one that engulfed him completely. "You need to stop hurting people."

Caster was silent, and Shirou sensed rather than heard her displeasure. "I will give you one more chance."

"My answer stays the same. You can't keep doing this," he said firmly.

Her lips curled downward. "I have not killed any natives of Fuyuki. This is for the sake of victory."

"You sent people to the hospital. They still haven't woken up," he said.

"They are still alive, so they will recover," she muttered. "You did not know them, I made certain of that. It does not matter."

A familiar anger, cooled by a span, now reignited. "Of course it does! They have family, people who care about them! Their lives aren't yours to toy with!"

Without a word of warning, he was slammed into the ground until his entire body lay flat against the tatami, his back to the ceiling. Shirou grit his teeth, fighting the sudden binding, straining his limbs, but for naught. Once again, he relieved his helplessness.

From the ground, he watched as Caster walked towards him with calm cadence, her robes swaying gently. She kneeled down and put a finger under his chin, then carefully lifted it up, forcing him to look at her.

"It seems I have been too lenient," she whispered. Frigid and soft as snow. "You hold no power over me, boy. I could twist you around my finger with less than a thought. I could have you dancing in the palm of my hand with a giddy smile. I could winnow your will and reason until only I remained. You would plead for my good grace. Beg for my affection. Die for my happiness. Do you understand, boy? Your life is mine to toy with. So you had best not cross me, or I will ensure you will never disobey me again."

Shirou's head was pounding to a thunderous beat. The world spun.

"You could do that," he hissed. He had no way of stopping her. He was at her mercy. "But you'd be no better than Atrum."

Caster's lips curled down. Her nail dug painfully into the flesh under his chin. "You insolent fool. How dare you compare me to that man?"

He forced himself on. "You've taken away the free will of everyone in Ryuudou Temple. You use people for your own devices. How is that different from what Atrum did to the children?"

"Be quiet," she ordered. Shirou felt blood drip down his neck. It was warm. "He and I are entirely different."

"Caster, I know you're better than him," he continued desperately. "I know you can do good, I've seen it!"

"Do not say another word. I'm warning you."

"You have to put an end to this," he persisted.

She bristled, and her hand curled. "I have to do this," she breathed. "I must."

"You don't," he denied. He poured conviction into his speech. "We'll do this the right way, or not at all."

Caster paused, then spoke slowly, robotically. "What I do is necessary. There is no avoiding it. It is a duty."

"A self-imposed one," Shirou challenged.

"My preparation now establishes the future. It gives us the greatest chance of winning this war."

"You know I don't care for the Holy Grail. And whatever your wish is, it isn't worth the lives of the innocent," he said.

"It's not about the Grail," she rebuked.

"Of course it's about the Grail. Please, Caster. Let go of your wish."

She froze. "You don't understand! I'm doing this for you, you moron!" she burst out. A tear trickled down her cheek. Suddenly, the binding was lifted and he could move again, but he did not feel freed.

"Caster?" Shirou murmured. He reached out to her. She shrugged him off.

"Go," she shuddered, turning away. "Leave me be."

Her entire frame was shaking with muffled, uneven breaths. Her head faced the floor. Gloved hands became trembling fists. Shirou gently approached her until they were face-to-face. Underneath her hood, Caster's eyes were watery and bloodshot, her face reddened. How had he not realized? She was miserable with guilt.

"You don't like doing this," he said.

"Of course not," she sniffled. "I live amongst these people. I talk with them. I laugh with them. I do what I must, but how could I enjoy it?"

"Then, why?" He couldn't understand.

Caster was quiet for a long moment. "Because I need to protect you, the one who has chosen to fight," she whispered. "But without mana, I am weak. One cannot protect others without first becoming strong themselves. So I shall make myself strong. Strong enough so no one will ever harm you."

His anger evaporated. "Caster, I'm sorry. You aren't a witch, and I shouldn't have called you one. But I-"

Caster took his hand within her own. "I know. You want to leave the people of Fuyuki unscathed. But this is a necessary evil. Let me do this," she begged.

Shirou grimaced. "Hurting innocent people is something I can't compromise on."

Caster's face fell. "Do you know what stopping means? I will need to conserve any mana available. I can no longer act freely throughout the day and night. I would be entirely reliant on your blood to live. When the time comes and a Servant appears, I will not have the strength to fight them. If only you were chosen by the Grail…"

He was shackling her, was the unuttered message. Weighing her down as an anchor. They had faced one Servant already. The white-haired man had torn through Caster like paper. There were five other Servants, all just as deadly, and he was taking away her means to combat them.

"I'll fight by your side," he said. Even he was aware of the futility of his statement, but it was all he had.

"Then you'll die by my side." Caster laughed bitterly.

Shirou clenched his jaw. He felt useless. "I just…"

Caster sighed heavily. "There is one way we can survive. Avoid conflict. Stay here with me. Above the leyline, in this temple, I can keep us safe. We could wait out the war until the other Servants kill each other off. If all else fails, we can flee, far away from here. No one will be able to find us."

They both knew how he would respond, but Caster was trying anyway. One last attempt. Shirou appreciated it.

"I can't do that," he said. "People might die if I hide here. That's something I can't abide by."

"Of course you would say that. With no hesitation," Caster chuckled. She touched his cheek. "You fool. Why do you care so much?"

"I…" Shirou trailed off. He thought of how he could explain himself. The fire, perhaps? It was a secret that he embedded to his core. He had never spoken of it, but it plagued his dreams. "I want to save everyone I can," he said instead. Succinct and veracious.

"Even if you die in the process?" she asked.

"Even if I die."

"Then," she hesitated, looking away. "Even if I die?"

Shirou was troubled. "That won't happen," he said.

"The possibility is there. Do not deny it."

"I won't let it happen."

Caster sighed, and leaned against his chest.
"Shirou. Oh, Shirou. Ofttimes I find myself admiring your spirit and your beliefs. Today I wish to curse them, but they are a part of you, so I hold my tongue." She smiled, but it was rueful. "Still, I must say. I hope you will never know the feeling of when the one you cherish decides you are worth less than those he has never even met."

Her words cut deeper than any blade ever could.

The falling sun greyed the sky, and wispy white clouds scudded across it. The wind was picking up, howling all around.

Shirou had left the temple after giving as much blood as he could. He was in no mood for lessons, and Caster had shared the sentiment.

She had promised him that she would no longer drain people for their energy. She had also disarmed the residents of Ryuudou Temple, but insisted that their commands remain.

"Though the option still holds, I will not harm them, nor will I take control of them. They serve only as my eyes and ears," she had said. To fully undo her spell, then reapplying a listening command will cost mana, which she considered wasteful. Shirou was willing to believe her.

He had gotten what he had set out for. There would be no more comas troubling Fuyuki. Likewise, Issei and the rest of Ryuudou Temple would no longer be in danger. But he only felt a deep shame rising inside.

Was he sacrificing Caster for the sake of the people? The thought scalded him. Sacrifice Caster, or sacrifice the people.

Saving one person means not saving another. Kiritsugu must have made this choice, and the ramifications had left him scarred unto death. His father had always reflected on his past with regrets. Was this what it meant to be a hero?

There was only one choice for him. He wouldn't let Caster die, no matter what. Underneath her facade of control was a good person, Shirou thought. Someone kind and caring who liked to teach and be taught. Someone who relished the little things in life, like putting together a nice outfit, or the taste of a good meal. He cared about her, and wanted her to be happy. And…

Shirou closed his eyes, letting the air cool him down. Caster would tear her own heart out of her chest for the sake of those she cared about, and ordinary people would suffer for it. He couldn't let that happen either.

She saw no road to victory that left the people of Fuyuki unmarred. If he were being honest with himself, Shirou didn't see one either. He considered the possibilities. Then, he found his resolve and crushed any lingering reservations.

If there was no hope, he would kindle it. If there was no path, he would forge one himself. Caster would deem him delusional if she heard him. In that assessment, she would be correct. But it was the only compromise he could make with himself.

The next day, he went to school after eating breakfast with Fuji-nee and Sakura. There, he sought Issei immediately. He found the student council president in the middle of his daily routine. Shirou shepherded him into an isolated room, where they could speak in private.

"Emiya? What are you doing?" Issei exclaimed.

"I wanted to ask you how you felt," he said seriously. "Have you been feeling sick or ill recently?"

Issei's brows met over his dark blue eyes. "I feel perfectly fine. I have not been sick at all."

"Really?" Shirou inquired. "There isn't anything bothering you?"

"You are beginning to sound like a doctor," he replied. "Why do you ask?"

Shirou gave him a shrug. "You looked pale recently. I was worried. Has student council work been difficult?" he said. Half-lie, half-truth. Shirou wanted to check if Issei was dealing with any issues after Caster's possession of him, and it seemed like he was unharmed.

Issei raised his eyebrows. "Thank you for your concern, Emiya. It has been busy lately," he admitted. "The start of the year comes with new issues that only stack on top of last year's. Club budgets continue to be unbalanced, a new student is coming in, and schedules need to be finalized."

Shirou gave him a sympathetic nod. "As always, it sounds rough. Hang in there, Issei."

"It's trivial. If I can't handle this much, I wouldn't be qualified to be student council president," he said, rolling his shoulders. "Is that all?"

This led Shirou to the next topic. "I also wanted to ask about that foreigner in the temple," he said.

"Again?" Issei asked suspiciously. "Are you interested in her?"
"Fuyuki doesn't really attract foreigners," he said. "I'm curious how she's doing."

Issei frowned. "And you had to drag me all the way here for that? You've been acting strange recently, Emiya."

"Really? I don't think so," he said.

Shirou continued probing, alert for any changes in Issei's behavior, but noticed nothing amiss. Caster had kept her promise.

"If that's everything, I have to go," Issei said, after Shirou was appeased.

"Right. Thank you. Keep up the good work," he said.

At lunch, he ate with Tohsaka, where they exchanged bentos like usual. Tohsaka's food was a stir-fried Szechuan noodle dish with chicken, soy sauce, and peppercorn. It was delicious, but very spicy. He wondered if Caster would enjoy it. She liked eating Japanese food, but Chinese cuisine was a whole different beast, especially compared to western food. He hoped they would still cook together.

"Hey, are you even listening to me?" Shirou looked up from his chopsticks. Tohsaka was staring at him. Her arms were crossed, and her mouth was a line. By now, he understood what that meant.

"Sorry," he said. "I was thinking about something else."

She scooted closer to him. "You are eating lunch with me." She ran her fingers through one of her twin-tails. "Act like it."

Shirou had been mulling over Caster for the whole day, disregarding the people around him. So he allowed himself to relax and enjoy the conversation with Tohsaka.

He left school feeling rather refreshed. Then, he headed home on his own. Ryuudou Temple was his next destination, and he was about to leave for it when the doorbell rang.

He opened it, and found Caster wearing her casual clothing.

"Caster? Why are you here?"

"You were asking about me. I came to find you." So her wards were still in place, but Issei was fine. That was good.

"How do you know where I live?" he asked. He had never told her.

"Magic," she said simply. Caster slipped her shoes off, took off her jacket, then walked through his house, looking at the various sights visible from the hallway. There wasn't much to see. There was some furniture that Kiritsugu had bought years ago, and some ceramic vases with various plants inside them. Caster seemed entranced however, as she carefully considered the huge backyard and the many empty rooms.

She turned to him. "Your home is quite spacious. You live alone?"

"Yes." Shirou had never questioned why Kiritsugu had decided he needed a mansion for two people.

"The Bounded Field is interesting," she noted. "Not very useful, however."

"My father set it up. It's good enough for me." When it detected malicious intent, a bell would ring from the ceiling.

"It is well-made, especially for a mage of this era," she admitted. "But it offers no protection. It succeeds in exactly one thing and nothing else."

"I've never needed it before," he responded. He rarely had visitors anyway, and Fuyuki was a relatively peaceful place.

Caster traced a hand along the wall. "If I had time and mana, I would erect my own Bounded Field within this one. But I possess neither of those things."

They came to the living room. Caster spotted the kitchen. She entered it and donned one of the aprons hanging along the wall. "Do you have any new recipes to show me today?" she asked without ceremony.

He wasn't expecting her to ask so suddenly, but he didn't let his surprise show. "I bought some salmon recently. Salmon recipes are pretty easy."

"Excellent," she affirmed. Shirou brought out salmon, carrots, mushrooms, onions, and garlic from the refrigerator.

"I'll get started on the carrots. Could you slice the mushrooms?" he asked.

"Of course," she answered. She was experienced enough now that Shirou could delegate tasks to her in the kitchen.

They worked in silence. The vegetables were almost ready when she turned towards him.

"Shirou," she said suddenly. He stopped. Caster was looking at him, lips pursed.

Something was on her mind, but she was reluctant to say it.

"Shirou, do you tr-"

Caster was interrupted by the sound of the main door sliding open. "You have a visitor?" she asked.

"That should be Sakura. She's an underclassman at my school," Shirou explained.

Caster nodded. "I see."
Then, she wrapped her arms around Shirou's left arm, leaning onto his shoulder.

"Caster? What are you doing?" he whispered. She was soft and warm, and he could smell the shampoo she used in her hair. Lavender. He felt heat rise to his face.

"Nothing," she said. "Carry on."

"I can't cook like this," he hissed. He tried to shake her off, but she gripped his arm tighter. "It's dangerous!"

"I'm sure you can figure something out," she said.

Before he could separate from her, Sakura entered the living room. She had a calm smile on her face, which disappeared the moment she saw them.

"Senpai?" she said at an odd pitch. "Who is this?"

"Why, hello ther-" Caster froze, staring at Sakura. Then, she extricated herself from Shirou's side.

Shirou looked to Caster, then to Sakura.

"Sakura, this is Cast-" She elbowed in the side, hard. He was about to use her Class name. "-ella," he corrected. "Castella. She's from Europe."

Sakura tilted her head. " Castella," she repeated. "That's… very interesting."

"...Her parents visited Japan once and really enjoyed eating castella here," Shirou said hastily. He could feel Caster's gaze boring into him.

"So they named their child after sponge cake," Sakura said skeptically.

"Yes. Exactly."

"Um, okay. Sure," Sakura muttered. She bowed quickly to Caster, then put on a thin smile. "It's nice to meet you, Miss Castella. What brings you to Japan?"

"I was hoping to visit the country of my," Caster paused. "Namesake. It's been a lovely vacation so far. I especially want to try some authentic castella."

"Right," Sakura said. "Your Japanese is very good. Can I ask why you are in senpai's house?"

Caster smiled. "My parents were acquainted with Shirou's father. I was planning to contact him, but I learned he passed away when I arrived here."

"I'm so sorry," Sakura gasped. "That must have been awful to learn."

"It was unfortunate, but it is what it is," Caster said. "Shirou has been a wonderful host in the meantime."

Sakura narrowed her eyes. "Are you staying here, Miss Castella?" she asked.

"Oh, of course not. I'm staying in a hotel in the area," Caster said. "I am only visiting the Emiya family."

Sakura breathed a sigh of relief. Her smile widened. "I see. I hope you enjoy your time here, Miss Castella."

Caster nodded her appreciation, but then checked a clock hanging on the wall. "Look at the time. It seems I have to go. It was a pleasure to meet you both. Shirou, Sakura, I wish you well in the future."

Shirou saw her off, walking her to the entryway.

"This was an excellent time," Caster said, more directed towards the empty hallway behind them. She beckoned him to come closer with her finger. Shirou leaned in, perplexed.

"I'm disappointed, boy," she muttered sharply into his ear. Shirou was shocked by the sudden fury in her voice. "Come to me tonight. I will be waiting."

With that veiled warning, Caster stormed away, leaving him puzzled and bemused.

Soon after, Fuji-nee arrived and Shirou served the completed salmon dish. Caster never had the chance to try it. He planned to package some and deliver it to her, but Fuji-nee was ravenous tonight, so there were no leftovers at all.

After dinner, when he was alone in his home, Shirou put on his winter jacket and left alone. He hadn't been out in the night for some time, but he had no other task than to reach Ryuudou Temple, so he travelled briskly through the streets, not paying passersby any mind.

Caster's door was open for him when he arrived. She glared at him like a regal hawk.

"Caster?" he asked. "Why did you want me to come over?"

"You are many things, Shirou Emiya. But I did not expect a hypocrite to be one of them," she spat. Her deadly tone chilled him more than the outer winds.

"I'm not a hypocrite," he said. "Caster, what brought this on?" He had never seen her so angry.

"You wish to save everyone, yet you cannot even save the girl right beside you," she glowered.

"What?" he breathed.

"The girl. Sakura."

"What about her?" Shirou questioned, confused more than anything.

Her eyes were deep wells of pity. "You don't know, do you? You poor blind stupid fool."

"What are you talking about?"

Caster shook her head. "Poor, poor fool." Then, she slowly reached up and touched his forehead, her finger shining. A vision imparted into his mind, invasive, uninvited.

And he finally learned the truth.