The sound of a clock ticking filled the air. One tick after the other, a pattern followed to the letter with no deviation. The space was filled by the odor from cheap-looking candles placed around the area. A few filled bookshelves were placed against the walls. On the furthest end of the room, there were two covered windows with a wooden desk placed between them.
Shirou sat in the middle of the room, a wooden table between him and the empty chair across from him. His own seat was one of those you could potentially lie down on, but he preferred to sit up straight.
It helped to give off the impression he cared more than he really did.
Shirou was waiting for his new therapist to come in. His mind wandered off as he sat there staring into space. He wasn't thinking about anything in particular. He'd been waiting for so long that he'd grown bored and began to daydream.
Eventually, the door abruptly opened. A relatively young-looking man, probably in his mid-twenties, entered the room. The man was dressed in formal clothing, not a suit, but nice enough that the grey tie he wore didn't seem out of place.
Shirou could feel the slightly cold air around him from halfway across the room. In his hands was a clipboard he was giving his complete attention.
"Shirou Emiya?" the presumed doctor asked as he walked toward the middle of the room. The man looked up from the clipboard, glancing up to look at Shirou.
His eyes widened, a disturbed look on his face as he gazed into Shirou's eyes.
It was just like Fuji-nee's reaction when she first looked into his eyes. He didn't understand why they seemed so disturbed. His eyes may have been inhuman, but they weren't that weird. He would expect one or two people, but literally every person but that insane blonde guy? It was already getting annoying and more than a little uncomfortable.
Maybe he should really wear sunglasses everywhere.
"Yes," Shirou acknowledged he was Shirou Emiya.
The man flinched and then shook his head. He looked at the clipboard and back at Shirou several times before frowning. The boy could see the discomfort on the guy's face, his hands tightening around his clipboard. On the way over here, one or two people crossed the street to stay away from him. What would this guy do?
"I'm Doctor Anzai Aki," the man finally managed to speak, keeping his eyes on the clipboard for as long as he could. He sat down in the chair across from Shirou, leaning back into it. "I'm sure you know why you're here, but let's make sure we're on the same page."
Shirou was surprised by the lack of formalities or introductions, but he didn't mention it. He was just glad the guy didn't try to jump out the nearest window. The boy with wings nodded, still sitting up at attention.
The therapist didn't acknowledge his nod, only glancing back at the board. "Your guardian says you've been hallucinating – hearing screaming and reaching for non-existent things around you."
The boy didn't immediately respond.
He already planned what he was going to say the night before. Shirou knew the man would think he was insane if he spoke the truth, and Kiritsugu taught him the importance of secrecy.
If you can identify a mage and their magicks, you can use their weaknesses against them. Even just knowing they are a mage is enough to identify the flaws they all share.
As a presumable fairy thing, he was sure to have inborn weaknesses as well. He would need to research what they are since the book he read didn't list any, but he knew they had to be something that was envenomed to his new existence. By not telling anybody, especially strangers like this doctor, he would significantly lower the chance of someone figuring out his weaknesses.
Unfortunately, Shirou was bad at lying. Thus, he decided to try to be vague rather than being caught in a blatant lie.
Coming to that decision had felt strangely right.
"If that's what Fuji-nee claims," Shirou answered. He kept the fact that he knew his wings were there and the more mundane point that he heard yelling, not screaming, to himself. The use of screaming made it sound like he heard someone in need of help or in trouble. If he had, he would've rushed over to help rather than what he did.
"Very well," Doctor Aki accepted the answer without giving it much thought, a slightly disinterested tone barely appearing in his tone. "We'll speak about medicines for that with your guardian once we're finished. There are a few other matters we need to discuss."
Shirou sighed, content knowing he'd already planned for this appointment beforehand. Still, he wished the therapist would've just asked the one question and be done with it.
"The first thing we'll go over is how to hide your insanity," the man spoke, looking at Shirou but not meeting his blue eyes. His voice was almost condescending. "It could damage the image of your family and associates if it ever gets out."
The newly formed fairy couldn't help but lean back slightly, his body language becoming slightly more closed off. The feeling of discomfort he got from having his wings covered grew as he felt them tense up.
The idea of hiding himself was what he was already doing. He was keeping what he transformed into a secret and tried to minimize its impact on those around him. Yet, it felt wrong when Doctor Aki said it. The doctor made it sound like something was wrong with him. That there was something shameful in being how he was, and he should hide it for the sake of those around him. His own opinion be damned...
The guy hadn't really talked to Shirou, had he?
Did his own thoughts and feelings matter to his therapist or anyone else? Or was he really alone?
Shirou felt his mood drop as he already knew no one would listen to him. Perhaps only being treated like he was insane was a mercy and a show of how much his sister cared about him.
That was why he had to keep his change a secret, even to those closest to him. Shirou didn't think something was wrong with himself, nor was he insane. He was simply who he was, but the world was too cold and dangerous for him not to hide parts of himself away. If the world was warmer and a little brighter, he may have been able to be himself and follow his dream without worry.
Being told he was insane and needed to learn how to hide it was only running salt in the wound.
The fairy raised one of his hands to his eyes, the most obvious sign of his inner self. Doctor Aki followed the action, glancing away when their eyes met. If he had covered them up with sunglasses, that wouldn't have happened. Yet, he still didn't want to cover his eyes, even if it was tempting... if they're not going to be satisfied no matter what, maybe he should ignore them...
No, now wasn't the time to think about that, especially since he knew it wouldn't be possible. Fuji-nee's opinion would always matter to him, no matter what.
Shirou forced himself to listen as the man discussed all the different ways he should strive to keep his fairy side hidden, from potential excuses to telling him what to do if he started to hallucinate. He didn't even get to say a word through the therapist's lecture besides the few times he was forced to acknowledge he understood what the doctor was stating.
By the end of it, Shirou felt drained, exhausted by the constant reiteration of his supposed derangements and how to fix them. It was like he was trying to engrave the fact that something was wrong with him through repetition, and Shirou was forced to fight it off each time. The lecture was trying to wear him out through attrition.
Then, Doctor Aki continued on to the next subject without even checking with Shirou.
"The next thing I wish to discuss is this dream of yours–"
Shirou froze in his seat. Fuji-nee was the only one who knew about that. She would never tell some stranger something shared between them as siblings.
"This being a hero," the therapist actually looked up at Shirou this time, but his eyes were filled with disdain.
The frozen fairy stared back at the doctor. The disbelief at the idea his sister would share his dream turned to anger.
Fuji-nee had betrayed him. His trust. He trusted her. She broke it. She went behind his back to share his dream, the most precious thing he had and the last thing Kiritugu entrusted to him, without his knowledge. Was it that meaningless to her that she'd go so far to try and destroy it?!
They will talk about this betrayal once they're back home, but he doubts she'll listen to him, much less understand him.
"Yes, I will be a hero," Shirou acknowledged. It was his dream, and he would never deny the truth of it.
"Such delusional dreams aren't healthy," the man told him, his body language barely changing as he derided Shirou's dream.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Shirou crossed his arms, feeling even more peeved. His anger built off the simmering rage from Taiga's actions.
"One thing you'll learn as you grow up is the falsehood of childhood dreams," Doctor Aki said, leaning back in his chair. "Things like being a 'superhero' or 'saving the world' may seem possible at your age, but they're not. Normally, you learn this as you grow up, but someone with delusions needs to accept reality before they become a threat to others around them."
Shirou leaned back, feeling fundamentally repulsed by everything the doctor said. Not just emotionally or intellectually but physically. His body feels colder just for hearing the therapist's words.
He wouldn't grow beyond his dream of being a hero. It was who he would become. Someone who could save the world, not a threat to those around him.
That last point really bothered Shirou. He would never be a threat to others; he wanted to protect them. Apparently, the guy understood him as well as his sister did.
"I'm not going to give up my dream," Shirou outright told the therapist.
The doctor let out a sigh. "Answer this: your guardian is the princess of the Fujimura Group. How do you reconcile the fact that she is Yakuza with the justice of heroes?"
Shirou's anger took a backseat as he felt a moment of surprise. He didn't think that was something a therapist would know or bring up. Then again, his sister was able to get an appointment with him for the next. Something that would be impossible to get with a normal therapist.
"They're not bad people, so I can ignore that," Shirou answered quickly, looking away from Doctor Aki.
Even if his sister betrayed his trust, he still knew she was a good person—and so was old man Raiga. Their being Yakuza didn't change that.
The psychiatrist opened their mouth to say something before abruptly stopping, seeming hesitant to say what he was going to say. A flash of concern crossed his face before he closed his mouth.
Shirou had no clue why he would be hesitant, but the fairy boy did take a small bit of pleasure in it.
Doctor Aki's expression was pinched as he considered his next words. "Heroes aren't real, nor have they ever been. If they were, our world wouldn't be the hellhole it is."
"If they weren't, I wouldn't be here," Shirou shot back at the therapist. The memory of his father saving him briefly flashed through his mind. Kiritsugu was real. Thus, heroes were.
"If they were, you wouldn't have to be here," the short-haired man told him with an icy tone. "I know everything you've gone through. The fire. Losing your family and friends. Watching your adoptive father wither away and die. Your guardian even told me about the constant nightmares you once suffered after the fire."
Shirou flinched, looking away. A slightly pale expression hit him as he remembered the nightmares. Countless nights of screaming. Chased by the burned skeletons of the dead. Their screams ringing in his ears. Never escaping, no matter how much he ran.
"There is no way anyone sane would believe in heroes after experiencing that," the man continued without caring about Shirou's discomfort. He moved, setting his clipboard to the side, and brought one of his hands to his sleeves. "I would know–"
Shirou's eyes widened as he watched Doctor Aki bring up one of his sleeves to reveal the scarred flesh underneath. Burn scars covered much of its flesh.
"I survived the fire as well," Doctor Aki said. The revelation filled Shirou with shame and guilt, and his blue eyes turned away from the man's arms. "And the fact you felt the need to look away only confirms a guess of mine."
Shirou couldn't bring himself to interrupt the doctor. The familiar guilt of the fire flared up inside him. Reminding him that those scars were his fault. The fact that he didn't have any scars was proof of that.
The fire. The heat. It seared everyone but him.
"You suffer from some form of survivor's guilt," Doctor Aki said clearly, still not a drop of emotion in his voice as he pulled his sleeve down, covering the scars. This whole hero thing isn't about helping people, is it? It is nothing more than an extension of your guilt. Being a hero isn't about saving people for you but about making yourself feel better."
Shirou quivered, but not in anger. The twelve-year-old felt vulnerable. Exposed by a man he was only meeting for the first time. One, he couldn't speak against or feel anger towards now that he knew Doctor Aki was a survivor of the fire. He had to take it because he deserved it and so much more.
"Your silence speaks volumes," the man spoke after a few moments. He leaned back in his chair, an almost satisfied look on his face. "My concern isn't dealing with this guilt of yours. It is stopping your delusions and making sure you can blend in with normal people. This guilt-born dream is one of the things that must go for this to happen."
Shirou listened to the man's words. His head down as he made himself smaller, his body language becoming closed off to the world.
He needed to be a hero for those he left behind, but here's one of those people telling him not to.
It hurt. Hurt. Hurt.
The ash remnants of his heart ached.
Yet, he knew he wouldn't be able to follow the doctor's words. His dream wouldn't be given up because he or anyone else told him to surrender it. Even if that made him selfish.
Shirou prepared himself for whatever the man would say next, ready to take it. No matter how much it hurt.
Only for the man to check his watch.
"But that can be left for another day," Doctor Aki said, sounding decidedly neutral. "I need to speak to your guardian about medication."
Shirou held his breath, painfully biting his lip. His eyes closed.
It was over? Why wasn't Doctor Aki ridiculing him more? He deserved it, and the guy wanted to do it. The man couldn't just expose his inner heart and pains without taking his pound of flesh.
Shirou quivered, waiting for the guy to reveal he was lying. That he was just trying to get Shirou to let his guard down before rubbing salt in the wound.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" Doctor Aki asked, his voice coming from a new spot further away.
Shirou opened his eyes, glancing toward Doctor Aki. He'd already stood up and was halfway to the door, an impatient look on his face.
The fairy clenched his hands. Was it really over? Was Doctor Aki stopping being their appointment was up?
Shirou stood up with a despondent look on his face. He followed behind Doctor Aki, who hadn't waited for him to catch up.
It didn't take long for them to walk to the nearly empty welcome room. The only occupants were his older sister and a receptionist sitting behind a desk. Not that the room could fit many people, having only a couple of chairs and being all around small.
Shirou cringed slightly when the receptionist turned to look in his direction before looking away when she realized it was him. It must have been his eyes again.
He took one look at his sister before looking away in frustration. Anger and sorrow mixed together into a stew he wasn't ready for.
She gave away his secrets to try and destroy his dream and couldn't be bothered to stay awake while it happened.
The fairy briefly considered messing with her now that the chance was before him. The thought exited his mind as quickly as it entered. Something about messing with her felt particularly wrong, more so than it would have in the past.
"Fuji-nee, wake up," Shirou said, walking over to her and beginning to shake her. His grip on her was a little tighter than it normally would have been.
His sister slowly woke up. Eventually, yawning and rubbing her eyes.
"You're already done?" Fuji-nee asked before looking over at the doctor. "He's all fixed up, right?"
Shirou crossed his arms over his chest. "The only one that needs fixing up is you."
"Let's talk about it in private, Ms. Fujimura," Doctor Aki told her, a folded piece of paper in his hands. He seemed much more engaged and respectful with his guardian than him.
"Yes, that would be good," Fuji-nee responded, pointlessly looking around. It wasn't like anyone could be peeking in on them since there weren't any windows. "Shirou, wait here while I talk to the doctor. Don't move an inch, got it?"
Shirou didn't verbally respond, only nodding.
"Good! Then I'll be right back!" His sister said cheerfully before wandering off with Doctor Aki. The silence they left was only broken up by the sound of the woman at the front desk typing on her computer.
A part of Shirou was curious about what she was doing since it didn't seem like she'd have much work—especially not on a computer, given that this business only had one psychologist working at it. The other part of him knew it probably wasn't something he should be looking into since the doctor was shady.
Shirou looked away from her to glance around the room, trying to find anything interesting to look at, only to find nothing at all. The place was utterly barren of decorations or magazines to read. A point that served only to build his frustration.
Sighing, he sat down in the chair his sister had been using previously. It was surprisingly comfortable. He would give it that.
He ended up having to wait for an extra ten minutes for his sister to come back. In her hand was a folded piece of paper. The blank backside was all that he could see. Doctor Aki wasn't following behind her.
"Whelp, I got what we need, so let's go get lunch," his sister said with a smile as she approached him.
"I'm not hungry," Shirou told her. The boy stood up and began to walk to the exit. He would rather go home first so he can yell at her. Then maybe he could also figure out what was on that random paper of hers.
Shirou walked through the door to the Emiya estate, ignoring his older sister's constant talking. She was following behind him, closing the door once she passed through it.
The younger boy stopped in the hallway to turn and look at his sister. He guessed he could wait until they got further into the estate to talk, but he didn't feel like waiting.
"Fuji-nee," Shirou said, a bit of anger filtering into his voice. The sharpness in his tone stopped his sister from saying anything else. Whatever she was talking about lay stuck in her throat. "Why'd you tell him everything about me?"
It took his sister a few moments to realize what he was talking about, and when she did, she flinched. "Because he needed to know about you to help you."
"That didn't mean you had the right to tell him personal things," Shirou shot back.
He shouldn't have to explain why things shared in confidence shouldn't be shared without permission. It was something she knew.
"But you wouldn't have told him!" Fuji-nee responded, gesturing at him with her arms.
Of course, he wouldn't.
He was only there for the sake of his sister, not because he thought he needed to be. He didn't think there was any way he could be helped, nor did he want it. Not from someone else who survived the fire.
"So, that doesn't change anything," Shirou told her. "You still betrayed my trust by telling him things I shared with you, not him."
"If you wouldn't open up to him, then how can he help you?" Fuji-nee asked with a hint of hesitation. "Anzai went through the fire too, Shirou. He can help you before you do something stupid."
"Something stupid?" Shirou repeated. His anger gave way to a sort of fatalistic dread, and his mind was already guessing what she meant by that.
His sister realized what she said, looking away. She didn't say anything.
The fairy felt a cold feeling, trying to press down on him. Almost as if it was attempting to snuff out the warmth within him.
Once again, Shirou was reminded that his sister didn't understand him. She saw what he needed to do, to become, yet was trying to get him to become something else. It was like she was rejecting a basic part of his identity.
Doctor Aki going after his dreams in their first session was proof of what she really thought.
"I want to be alone," Shirou told Fuji-nee. His blue eyes turned away from her and towards the door. Sending a silent message for her to leave.
"Shirou," his older sister started, a pained sound in her voice.
"Go," Shirou told her again. His eyes were unable to meet her face, knowing it must have been anguished. The tone of his voice was deceptively cold, hiding the inner turmoil she had once again caused him.
Kiritsugu would be ashamed of him. The old man taught him never to make a girl cry or hurt them, but he was causing Fuji-nee pain. It made him feel horribly guilty.
In the underside of the fairy's mind, a darker part of him felt no guilt. She was the one who would never understand and was trying to control him.
Shirou turned his head so that he was looking down the hallway. He walked down it, not looking back. The only sound was his steps. His sister didn't call out to him.
He eventually heard the sound of his sister leaving through the front door. The winged boy only turned around once he heard the door close again.
He stared at the closed door with a sad look on his face. The only emotion he could feel was a bottomless emptiness. Slowly, he turned away from the sight. Walking at a diminished speed, he entered his living room.
The table still had boxes left on it from the delivery his sister had ordered. The TV was off, and the controller to the game console was left to the side.
Looking at the sight reminded Shirou of so many memories. Of the countless days he spent with Fuji-nee and the old man. They were pleasant.
Now, it feels like the world he's lived in since the fire was coming to an end. Kiritsugu was dead, and the pieces left behind were being thrown in opposing directions.
For a brief moment, the human boy considered his sister's desired future. It would be so easy for him to waste away his days in the Emiya estate. Years spent in lukewarm joy born from a banal life. Each one passed by in the blink of an eye. Waking up each morning, eating together, going to school, and eventually work repeated forever.
The newly-born fae rejected the future as soon as the moment passed. No matter how many times a future like that would tempt him, he would never accept it. His reason and the conviction therein were unbreakable.
But then, what would be his future?
That question lingered in Shirou's mind as he turned away from the table and began to walk to his room. Once he got there, he grabbed the shirt with slits for his wings and changed into it.
The boy blinked his inhuman eyes once, and when he reopened them, the world had changed into one of color. His wings felt slightly stiff after wearing normal clothing for so long, but it was a nice distraction from everything.
He wondered if there were any exercises he could do to make them less stiff. He knew how to stretch, but human stretches don't apply to butterfly wings. The biology is completely different.
Shirou left his room, his wings slowly moving in tandem with his steps.
Despite everything that happened, he couldn't help but feel some of the stress fading away now that his wings were free. It was more than the relief that should've come with releasing them. Or maybe it was that the feeling of them being constrained was worse than that of having an arm or leg tied up.
Shirou paused as he passed his adopted father's room. The door still closed, as it had been since that day.
With melancholic eyes, Shirou reached out and placed his hand against the door.
He wondered if Kiritsugu felt constrained in his final days. The old man had left several times, for upwards of six months, without ever explaining what he was doing. He only stopped once he was too sick to travel anymore.
As he was lying on his bed, barely able to move, did he wish to be free again? To be able to find out what he was searching for?
Shirou slowly opened the door to his old man's room. The space it hid was laid bare.
The room was clean. Shirou kept the room clean once Kiritsugu started having trouble moving around. He always took his time when doing it, so he had an excuse to keep his eyes on the old man… and spend time with him.
Unlike him, Kiritsugu had a large bed on a frame that was raised to the perfect height for his sickly father.
A somber expression formed on Shirou's face. His wings stopped swaying back and forth, instead coming together behind his back.
He walked over to his adopted father's bed and sat down on it. The orange bed sheets were already in disorder. Looking at them, a smile formed on his face.
Kiritsugu wanted black bedsheets and a matching comforter, but both he and Fuji-nee thought that was too depressing. Instead, they chose to get him bright orange instead. It was a more lively color.
His father seemed so happy when he got his gift, even if it wasn't what he wanted.
Shirou moved from a seated position to lying on the bed—just like he used to toward the end, lying right by his father's side, reading one of the books he'd gotten together.
The bed still smelt like Kiritsugu. It was comforting yet also saddening. Like everything else, it would only grow weaker in time until it was lost forever.
Shirou closed his eyes. He was filled with loss, but he didn't cry, for he already shed all his tears.
The orphan just felt alone, and this was all that he had to stave off the isolation.
Shirou opened his blue eyes. He'd been lying on the bed for at least an hour without doing anything but strewing in his thoughts. The same ideas repeated in his head. He had no one to share them with, or at least no one he trusted to share them with.
The worst issue was his problems with Fuji-nee. He couldn't figure out a way to solve them they would both be satisfied with.
His sister was too stubborn to understand he was completely right, and she was utterly wrong.
Shirou let out an indignant sigh. He slowly sat up from the bed. After lying there for so long, he felt like moving around a bit. Before that, though, he needed to make Kirisugu's bed.
The boy took his time making the bed like he was engaging in a sacred act he couldn't fail. He fixed every error he made until it was perfect.
If it were only a short time ago, Kiritsugu would've been there to smile and thank him.
Shirou turned to leave the room, walking at a steady pace. He closed the bedroom door behind him. Pausing briefly, he looked down at his feet.
He realized he was still wearing his shoes. He never took them off after getting home.
It was at least convenient. It would be nice to go for a walk to clear his mind. Before that, he'd need to check the time and grab some money in case he decided to get something to eat.
Shirou walked to the living room and checked the time. The time was after school, so it wouldn't be strange for him to be out on his own.
Grabbing a decent amount of money and his jacket, Shirou made his way toward the exit of his home. The fairy stopped right before the door, however. The coat in his hands.
He was still wearing his shirt with slits in it and was currently comfortable. After his wings became stiff earlier, he was hesitant to confine them again. But he needed to put on his jacket. So, he regrettably changed his view of the world. The colors went duller, his wings disappearing, and his ears dulling.
Shirou put on his jacket and left his home.
He didn't have a position place he wanted. He just needed to move. The desire was building at the back of his mind.
He followed his instincts and decided to follow the path to Shinto, the new part of the city… Shirou used to live there before the fire.
The walk wasn't a short one. He had to travel across all of Fuyuki to get there, including crossing the big bridge. The cold weather still feeling acute as it had since his transformation.
As he made the relatively long journey, Shirou slowed down once the scenery changed from the older part of town, and he began the transition into the new business district.
Skyscrapers, the color of gray, reached out to the sky. All of them were the same, lacking in individuality. The scent of steel filled the air.
The area was undergoing rapid growth before the fire broke out. Construction stopped for a few months after that before beginning again.
Shirou stopped at a crosspath. There were three directions he could take. He ended up going left because it just seemed to be the best route to take. Even if he had no clue where he was going other than that he was moving.
There were people walking down the street at this time. Many were only a few years older than him, probably high school age. A few of them were talking to each other as they walked down either side of the road, while others were staring out into space, seemingly ignoring the world.
Shirou had to step out of the way of a few of them, who didn't seem to notice he was there. So, tuned out of the world were they. The small street walkways weren't helping matters. The spaces between the rows of skyscrapers felt like they were slightly too small. The space between each of the buildings themselves almost seemed to be millimeters apart. Working together, they gave the area a feeling not dissimilar to being caged.
The wind blowing off the tall buildings was bone-chilling.
Shirou continued to wander through the streets of the new part of town. He marveled at how everything was changing. Buildings were being constructed before his very eyes.
The orphan eventually stopped after seeing one such building. A feeling of familiarity hit him as he looked at what was being built: a new shopping center.
He didn't know why it was familiar. The area was no different than any other he passed through. People were still walking by, and lifeless buildings surrounded him. One had a billboard on it advertising a beer or something. The flashing lights on it were visible even in the early part of the evening the day had become since Shirou started his journey.
Shirou looked around, his eyes taking in everything as he mentally considered all the turns he'd taken, mapping them out in his head.
It only took him a few moments to realize where he was.
A door that will never be opened again. A bedroom full of games, and toys, and memories of his entire lifetime. A mom and dad who will never be there to greet him. Fire turning it all to ash. Nothing remaining. Even people.
Those who don't remain had no need for land or property. Why wouldn't the city repurpose it for something useful?
Shirou looked away from the shopping mall and began to walk again. His inhuman blue eyes turned towards the ground. No hate or anger filled them. No judgments were made. Only a feeling of emptiness.
The boy walked and walked. The world started to grow darker, and the sun descended behind a blanketed sky. He simply followed where his feet took him until the amount of people he passed turned to none.
An unnatural feeling slowly started to fill the air until he made one last turn and saw a large park come into view. The young fae made his way over to the park as the unnatural feeling grew into a cacophony of negative emotions.
Regret. Sadness. Anger. Confusion. Disbelief. Sorrow. Loss. Rage. Nescience.
So many different words to describe the same handful of emotions that seem to command the space. Each one had a slightly different connotation but was no less valid.
As soon as Shirou stepped onto the park grass. The air seemed to be saturated with the emotions of those who were long dead.
The park was Fuyuki Central Park. It was the only park in the city, built after the Fuyuki Fire. Almost nobody ever seemed to go here. Everyone instinctively sensed something was wrong with the area. It was the space where the Fuyuki Fire was thought to have started and spread to consume hundreds.
The desire to go away—to stay away—always felt strong, but now that Shirou wasn't human anymore, the feeling was all the more encompassing.
Shirou saw a small monument in the distance and began to walk to it. His feet walked through the snow-covered park, the ground beneath the white blanket feeling slightly unstable. The trees around the park barely had any leaves on them, looking almost withered.
The boy reached the small monument but found himself unable to do anything but stare at it.
The monument was for those who died in the fire. It was a small black obelisk no taller than six feet. Several benches were around it, meant to be a place where people could rest while visiting the monument.
It was a place Shirou had visited only once before, after the ceremony held in a different location meant to mourn all who lost their lives.
Now, not only did it seem abandoned, with snow building up around the monument, but it was also defaced.
Trash was littered around the monument, under the benches, and across the entire area. It had to be recent since it wasn't buried under the snow—and who knew what was hidden under there? The obelisk itself was vandalized, and some had painted graffiti all over it—the art depicting several… crude things.
The fairy felt his disbelief turn into righteous anger. A promise in the back of his mind to get back at – ensure justice against – whoever did this if he learned who was responsible.
Almost no one enters the park. Whoever did this had to ignore the feelings of pain and regret that filled the very air to seemingly party at a monument dedicated to the dead. It was… beyond rage-inducing.
It hurt. The monument in which everyone he knew was memorialized was treated like a canvas to toy with.
How else could one feel but angry and hurt?
Shirou wasn't – couldn't – leave it like this. He would clean it up if it took all night.
The boy glanced around for a trashcan, but there were none in the area. Even if there were, they wouldn't help wash the paint off the monument itself.
Looking into his pocket, he checked the amount of money he had. There were a few stores that he passed where he could buy some things to clean this area. He just hoped he had enough to get everything he needed.
Shirou turned away from the monument and began to walk toward the nearest open store. His pace was much faster than his previous one.
The closest store he passed was a long way away, requiring him to pass the construction site for the new shopping center. The workers who had been there before were gone, probably having gone home for the day.
The store was a medium-sized business Shirou had never been in before. The doors to its entrance were filled with adverts and details on sales. Upon entering, he was met with the smell of cleanliness. Generic music filled the air, soothing to an old person but boring to a twelve-year-old. The sound of the shopping carts moving across the building could be heard just below the music. The sounds seemingly repeated without any difference between them.
Shirou looked around the store for the things he needed. A trash bag, a rag or sponge, and something to help him wash off the paint.
It took him more than a few minutes to find what he needed. It was hidden behind what felt like an ocean of toys, junk food, and electronics. It was a hassle, but he found what he needed.
He didn't have enough to buy expensive supplies, but he did have enough to buy some cheap things. He would just have to work all the harder to make up for any issues caused by using something cheaper.
Shirou took his things and went up to register. The cashier scanned him through and accepted his money with no complaints. Due to the way the prices ended up lining up, Shirou ended up with a little bit of money left over. He placed the leftovers in his pocket as he exited the store with his bags in hand.
It was essentially night by this point. The sky had darkened to the point Shirou was almost sure the sun was done.
His sister would probably be mad at him for staying out this late, saying it was dangerous or something. But Shirou didn't really care at this point.
There was a marked shift in who was walking the street at this time. Those who were walking were starting to either look rougher or like they were out for a night on the town.
Shirou knew he should have been worried, especially because of the recent murder. Yet, when was someone not being killed in Fuyuki? It seemed like it happened all the time.
Besides, he could handle himself.
Still, Shirou made sure not to draw attention to himself. He ignored some of the looks he got when strangers met his gaze. The same look of disgust or shock.
The boy ended up stopping a short way from his destination when he passed an alley and noticed someone lying inside it. There was a small space within the alley that wasn't covered in snow, protected by the architecture of one of the buildings. That didn't change how cold it must have been.
The man was under a thick, dirty-looking blanket. The cloth looked old, and his hair was visibly unkempt even from the distance.
Shirou sensed he was sleeping. Without thinking, he already felt like helping the man. How he could.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small amount of money he had left. It wasn't that much, but it was still something.
The fairy quietly walked closer to the man and put the money next to him. The man was in a deep sleep, his face worn with stress.
Shirou wished he could do more for him. The boy walked away from the man, doing everything in his power not to wake him up.
Maybe in the future, he would have more power to help those in need. For now, though, he felt a small bit of satisfaction at helping someone.
Shirou continued his walk to the park. He was close enough that it didn't take long to get there.
He walked through the park to reach the monument. Once he got there, he set up the shopping bag that held the cleaning supplies.
The first thing he did was pull out one of the trash bags he had bought and separate it from the others that came with it.
Thus, under the night, the boy began to clean the monument. Going through the snow to make sure he picked up every piece of trash.
The boy wouldn't be able to sleep at night if he left even a single piece of trash. He wouldn't disrespect them due to laziness. No matter how long it took, Shirou would get it all.
Once he was finished, he put the trash bag he was using on the bench and pulled out the cleaning spray and sponge he got to remove the paint.
Shirou walked over to the obelisk and began removing the paint. Using the cleaning spray and sponge, he slowly removed the graffiti.
The anger in his heart remained as he slowly cleaned the monument.
He couldn't understand why anyone would do something like this. Something so insulting. They must have lost somebody or know somebody who lost a loved one in the fire. There is no way they didn't know how much this monument might mean to people.
As Shirou thought about that, he looked at the monument. For something built in the aftermath of something so horrid as the fire, it felt so small, so insignificant. There wasn't even a sign saying what it was. If he didn't already know what it was, there was no way for him to figure it out.
Shirou clinched the sponge in his hand, doing his best to ignore such thoughts. The size or scale didn't matter. What was important was the emotions behind it.
Looking up, Shirou realized the graffiti went up higher than he could reach. He wondered how he would reach it before remembering he had wings. He hadn't tried flying with them yet, but this was as good a time as any to try.
Shirou walked over to the bench where he had placed his stuff and took off his jacket. He placed it next to the trash bag.
Shirou blinked and looked around at the park with a new vision. The colors weren't pretty or brighter, nor were the trees more lively. The trees were twisted to the point they should have snapped, but it was like something was stopping them from dying. The few leaves a dark red closer to blood rather than those of autumn.
The black color of the monument was darker, triggering a sense of sadness. The graffiti was brighter but slightly twisted and almost moving. It was as if the art was moments away from doing the crude acts it was modeled after. The works around it moments away to give those drawings room.
The wind that blew through the park seemed to leave cries and curses in its wake.
Shirou looked around the park before moving back to the monument. If he was going to try flying, he needed to make sure nobody was around to see him.
His father told him about paradox and the risk of doing something supernatural in front of people. Shirou didn't know if he had to worry about paradox, but he wasn't going to risk the backlash nearly killing him or wounding him.
There was nobody in sight, so Shirou thought it would be all right.
For a moment, he paused, stopping to think about how one would fly. But then he shook off the thought as he suddenly felt like he already knew how. Why wouldn't he? He had wings and thus could fly.
The fairy fluttered his wings until he started to float in the air. He flew up only a small bit to reach the part of the monument he couldn't reach before. His movements were as easy as walking.
Despite being in this park full of suffering and angry at whoever defaced the monument, he could not help but feel a small bit of childish glee at flying. Who wouldn't at flying?
Just a short while ago, he could do nothing. Now, he was flying in the air. It was like something out of a dream.
Shirou continued to work on cleaning the monument, silently cleaning it.
It was right that he was the one doing this.
All the other children who survived the fire were taken to an orphanage after they were treated for medical injuries. He, alone among dozens, was adopted – saved by Kiritsugu. Thus, it was only fair that he be the one to maintain the monument.
He hoped that the others didn't see it like this. He didn't really know them or talk to them – that wouldn't be right or fair – but he knew there was a chance they encountered this like he did. The orphanage they were sent to was probably in Fuyuki, so they were around, even if Shirou never encountered them. They could've been just like him, wondering only to find the monument defaced.
And unlike him, they would've been forced to experience more undeserved pain.
Shirou continued to clean the monument for what felt like more than an hour, scrubbing it over and over again until all the graffiti was removed. He used the entire bottle of cleaner to make sure there wasn't a single spec of paint left on it. The boy had to switch between cleaning high-to-reach areas and the lower spots due to how tiring it was to fly.
For the first time in several days, there was a small break in the clouds above, letting moonlight filter through unabated. It's glow illuminating part of the park.
The monument didn't glow in the moonlight, but it did look clean.
The survivor looked at it, feeling satisfaction. The effort he put into it made the reward of seeing it clean all the sweeter. The contentment led to a brief feeling of peace inside him.
The memories. They always hurt. They never wouldn't. But sometimes, he can use the pain to do some good. Hopefully, it would be enough.
And if it was, maybe then – when his life was over – he would be able to meet the gaze of Kiritsugu and all the others he left behind without shame.
That was what they would have wanted, right?
Shirou reached out to touch the monument before stopping halfway through. Without a word, he lowered his hand and turned away.
He walked over to the trash bag and went to put the empty bottle in it, but he stopped before he could do so.
In the distance, far beyond the little bit of moonlight that illuminated the monument, an eye peeked out from the darkness. The owner's form was completely unseeable, coated in darkness and behind what looked like a tree. But the one eye—the one eye—was visible, glowing in the shadow, watching.
Shirou froze. His mind stopped. Even his instincts were frozen in their tracks as he looked into the one eye.
One eye that looked like dozens. Colors shifting. One after the other after the other after the other. Filled with hate. Despair. Cruelty. Always one of those. Spreading out to corrupt the world around it. Tainting all.
Tension filled the air as Shirou's instincts started to unfreeze. Yelling at him to run. To fly away. To escape. Fighting wasn't an option, only flight.
Shirou prepared to run. Waiting.
Then.
Moving the moment, the creature seemed to blink.
Running as fast as he could.
The creature. He could hear it chasing behind him.
Its intent to kill filling the air.
AN:
Hello, here's another chapter! :)
This chapter was difficult to write, and like every chapter – both generally but in this fic in particular – changed heavily during the writing process.
Shirou's therapy scene was rewritten three or four times and was cut in half. (It was hard due to my experiences of being forced into therapy and being told to 'improve' or else. That feeling kept leaking in way too much.) Several other ideas for scenes were cut, ranging from a Shinji scene to Shirou cleaning the monument with the help of an elderly woman who lost her family in the fire. And more.
Anyway, here's a fun fact: The bit about having wings = being able to fly was inspired by 'The Little White Bird' by J.M. Barrie. If you don't know who that is or what that book is about, then know J.M. Barrie is the creator of Peter Pan, and 'The Little White Bird' was technically Peter's first depiction before the play two years later.
Peter Pan loses the ability to fly within probably a thousand words, and we're told that birds can fly because they have faith that they can and that "for to have faith is to have wings."
As you can probably tell, the original Peter Pan is very different from the play version.
Second fun fact: the monster Shirou saw at the park is a type of Chimera – kinda like the drawing from the last chapter. They'll be discussed more later, but know that a lot tend to be made when a changeling goes through the Chrysalis/dream dance. So, it's weird that there weren't any when he woke up, huh. And the pieces of his avatar are gone, too.
There was an old F/SF theory I liked about Fake!Ayaka being the creation of the emotions/magical energies of the children being tortured in Kotomine's church.
Third fun fact: Shirou's wounds from the fire were much worse in the VN than in the adaptations, and the reason he doesn't have scars is probably because of Avalon. Quote from Day 10 of the Fate Route during Shirou's dream flashback to the Fuyuki Fire:
"I have burns all over my body and there's a bad burn across my chest.
My open chest.
I feel like I could grab my heart if I put my fingers into the inflamed chest. Innards with my fingers."
Shirou dismisses it when he wakes up because there's no way that Kiritsugu could have healed that and all the other burn wounds he had, but in the church scene when Saber heals Shirou's heart from Lancer's attack, he remarks that it was possible for Kiritsugu to have healed him with Avalon. Also, this chest wound is important because it is part of the symbolism separating Shirou and Kotomine while presenting them as foils. They both lost their hearts/were killed by the fire but were both saved by something that embodies them (all the world's evils/Avalon.) Shirou even remarked during the church basement scene that he and Kotomine were the same in this regard. (Though there he was talking about how Avalon was keeping him alive despite Lancer running him through, the point stands that this was intentional.)
Also note: The story will go into more detail about changelings later, but it should be known that there were a few things Shirou did or felt that were caused by being a changeling.
Changelings have two legacies – one Seelie and one Unseelie- that influence their actions/personalities/emotions. One is dominant, while the other one is suppressed and hidden away. Shirou's Seelie legacy is dominant, making him part of the Seelie Court, but there are moments where his dark Unseelie legacy could impact him. The legacies I chose for him (Saint/Fatalist) are based on what makes sense for the character. Saint, for example, is a legacy that compels the fairy to always help others – even at the cost of themselves – and this altruism can be due to anything from guilt to self-interest to actually being just a good person. It also stops/makes it harder for the fairy to purposely hurt others.
Shirou's wondering is a result of the type of changeling he is as well. But more on that later.
Anyway, if anyone notes any inconsistencies, please tell me – as long as you want to. And thanks for reading!
Have a super epic, awesome, exciting, wonderful day/night/evening/morning!