The arrow was a red bullet that illuminated all that it passed in its ruby-colored glare. Swifter than any normal arrow, its velocity resembled that of a hypersonic missile.
The sonorous sound of its journey rushed through Shirou's ears. In his startlement, he was late to react. He needed to get out of the way. The projectile was a certain death. But his limbs moved in slow motion compared to the arrow's speed.
Meters away, Lancer stepped into the arrow's flight, intercepting it with a solitary strike. The projectile clattered to the ground in pieces.
Instinct shepherded Shirou's reinforced eyes to the source of the arrow. From several kilometers away, perched on the tallest cedar in the midst of the forest, was the white-haired Servant he had encountered once before. Though the trees swayed all around him, the Servant was unmoving. In his callused hands was a gigantic bow of unknown make, darker than tar and sleeker than glass. His scarlet cloak billowed from the gathering mana between his fingertips, where a jet-black arrow was gradually drawn back, arching the bowstring in a silvery cusp. His form was flawless, his technique perfect. He could only be Archer.
Impossibly, their eyes met, and the Servant's lips moved to form three, simple words. I warned you. And his fingers uncurled.
The arrow was a thin black spire of uneven ridges and twists honed into a needlelike tip. The other end formed a swordlike hilt. Soaring, the blade kindled a flameless light around itself, flashing like a red sprite striking the earth.
The arrow approached even faster than the previous, but its target remained the same. On his own, Shirou couldn't do anything. But he trusted Lancer's strength.
A thunderous slash sent the arrow crashing to the ground, leaving a smoking pit in the concrete road. Lancer's hawk-like eyes were trained on the forested horizon, awaiting the next projectile. To her left, Saber guarded her Master.
"Just one thing after another," Rin muttered, her enmity forgotten. She held several jewels in the gaps between her fingers, polished and chiseled.
Shirou supposed their confrontation would be postponed until they dealt with the more immediate threat. He switched his circuits on. His magecraft was futile against the arrows, but it was better than nothing. Regardless, his fate was in Lancer's hands.
Thirty seconds passed. Another arrow was unleashed, shattering the sound barrier tenfold. Once again, Lancer caught the blade against her own. But this time, she bucked against the arrow's force, skidding back along the pavement. The bitter screech of steel on stone rang through Shirou's spine. Lancer's breathing heavied, but she did not give. With a wordless shout, she tore the arrow into the dirt, suffusing dust into the air.
The mere shockwave from their collision was enough to send Shirou lurching back, even though he was far from close to Lancer. The interval between shots was growing, but so was the force behind them. Archer was charging his attacks, pouring more energy into every strike. Three arrows in, and Lancer was already struggling. Soon, they would be overwhelmed, yet neither Servant could retaliate, lest their Master be killed in the opening. Archer was far too distant to reach.
Thirty-five seconds. The arrow hurtled through the airspace like a falling comet. Uncaring of any obstacle in its trajectory, it left destruction in its wake. Clouds were dispersed and roots were unplanted as it descended to earth.
Lancer brandished her weapon, ready to deflect the projectile. She took up a martial stance, bracing her legs and readying herself for impact. But from the forest emerged a woman in a brown suit. Like a raging bull, the woman slammed her body into Lancer's side, sending the Servant stumbling.
Quicker than a heartbeat was Lancer preoccupied, but the instant was enough for the arrow to slip past her guard and fly straight to Shirou's head. The arrowtip, a mere pinprick point in the skyline, was becoming larger and larger as it crept closer.
At once, Shirou was running, running, legs pushed to the limit, gears turning in his head, searching for anything to save him, but Hrunting was faster. There was nothing he could do: no reinforcement could grant him the ability to survive; no projection could shield him.
Lancer was shouting, eyes locked onto him even as she fought the suited woman. Her mouth was moving, telling him to run, to dodge, to get out of the way, but her panic was evident. Someone else was screaming too, but Shirou couldn't barely hear them over the arrow's din.
He was fraught with terror. The arrow raced for his vitals. Shirou tensed, reinforcing himself in a futile attempt at self-preservation. It was almost here now, and Lancer was too far away. He would be pierced.
Like an angel, Saber was there. She leapt in front of him and brought her blade's edge down to face the arrow head-on. But without time to steady herself, she lacked the sturdiness to prevail. A metallic reverberation denoted the start and end of their clash, and Saber roared a pained cry.
In her proximity, the arrow's impact was enough to blow Shirou back. He collapsed on the ground, but got up quickly. Regret flooded his chest.
Saber had fallen to one knee. Her gauntlets were dented and sunken, yet the hold on her sword had not diminished. There, the blade had sunk deep into the earth, her only support from collapsing to the floor. The arrow's aim had been true.
Vaporous tendrils effused from the gaping cavity in Saber's vambrace, carrying the stench of smoke, iron, and charred flesh. Incarnadined flesh seeped blood down her arms and torso, splotching her fine silver armor in red. She had deflected the arrow and saved his life, but at no small cost of her own.
"You're hurt," Shirou said dumbly.
He moved to pull her off the ground, but Saber shrugged him off, rising to her feet on her own accord. "Get it together," she spat, then turned away from him. Sword in hand, her visor faced the sky defiantly, as if challenging Archer to attack again.
In the distance, Lancer fought the suited woman, Servant against human, lance against fist. Outside of her initial ambush, the woman was not faring well. With every exchange, the woman was wounded further. Angry gashes lined her arms, blood pouring like a faucet, yet the woman fought on. She threw punch after punch, trying to land a blow but failing every time. Her suit was torn and her gloves were ripped as she barely dodged, parried, and blocked Lancer's assault, prolonging the fight as best she could.
Until she couldn't. Lancer stopped the woman's fist with an armored palm, then closed her fingers around the woman's immobilized hand. She lifted the woman off the ground. The woman tried to break free, but could not escape Lancer's grip. Drawing her other arm back, Lancer pierced the woman's stomach with a decisive thrust. A rotund hole formed on her suit, skin, and out her back, and the woman wilted, skewered on the lance. With disdainful ease, Lancer flicked her arm and the woman was thrown off the lance like a ragdoll through the air. She crashed into a nearby tree and collapsed to the ground, blood painting the bark where she had hit it.
Less than half a minute of combat and the woman was dead. Her strength far exceeded Shirou's, yet she had died all the same. She had overestimated herself. A human could not defeat a Servant.
Lancer withdrew, returning to protect Shirou. If she was hurt, she did not show it.
"We need to get out of here," he urged. The longer they stayed, the slimmer their chances of survival.
Lancer fell into a guarded stance, gaze never leaving the horizon. "No. There is no cover behind us, only sidewalk and road. From Archer's vantage, we would be open targets. I cannot protect you in retreat. The sole path to victory is to destroy the enemy." She turned to face Saber. "Can you continue?" she asked her fellow knight.
"This is nothing," she snapped, spitting blood to the ground.
"Good. I will protect Shirou and Rin. You will strike down Archer," Lancer ordered, regal in her command. "The forest shall be your cover."
Without a word, Saber dragged Rin over until she was only a few meters away from Lancer, covered behind her back. Once she was certain of Rin's safety, Saber charged. Then stopped. A frustrated noise escaped her armor. "Damn it," she groaned. But she bounded forth regardless, disappearing into the trees right as the next arrow arrived.
With no interruptions, Lancer was free to defend them both Masters together. Bracing herself, she prepared to block it, centering herself in position. But the incoming missile was faster than all the others, and her lance was barely able to intercept its course. She strained against the relentless power, yet was sent crashing back. She tumbled onto the ground, emitting sparks when she collided with the paving. Though there was no blood, she struggled to stand up. Her knees had given out.
Suddenly, Saber was back.
"Change of plans," she said, brimming with fury. "Archer chose the worst possible spot. There aren't any buildings in his vicinity. No meatshields to protect him. I'll blast him away here and now!"
"Do it, Saber." Rin commanded. "Use your Noble Phantasm!"
With both hands, Saber clasped her weapon before her waist, pointing the tip to the sky. The shoulder of the longsword wrenched open, and a pillar of energy erupted from the blade to the sky. Red lightning sparked down its length.
Her helmet dismantled into several pieces. They fell away and attached to specific parts of her suit of armor like magnets, revealing her dangerous smile. Her hair thrashed from the accumulating mana.
From the corner of Shirou's eye, there was a faint flash of azure light, followed by the snap of twigs and the rustle of leaves. He turned his head, drawn to the noise. He briefly glimpsed something dark and shiny falling into the underbrush, before he found the origin.
The suited woman was alive. Leaning against the tree, the woman was panting, fighting to her feet. Her skin was pallid. Her magenta hair was matted to her forehead. Her red eyes were dark with determination, fixated on Saber.
Keeled over, every desperate breath shuddered her whole. With one hand, she clawed her stomach, staunching the flow of blood. Her other formed a fist, and above it hovered a glowing sphere, discharging electricity that anchored to her bloodied fingers.
The rush of mana escalated. Saber's sword was a crimson beacon in the night, casting all in her luminance. Red lightning chittered and crackled, scarring the stone around her.
At the same time, circles of white-blue runes surrounded the suited woman's sphere, generating edge-by-edge a short, shining blade.
Shirou's breath hitched.
The blade's name was Fragarach. The Answerer.
"Don't do it!" he screamed. But Saber wasn't listening.
"I'm going to enjoy this," she said, rumbling with ravenous hunger. Like the eye of the storm, heavy winds stirred around her lonesome figure. The terrain itself was shredding. Sod was ripped out, trees were bent, and stone was overturned. The sheer might spoke of certain victory, but Shirou knew what was to come.
There was no other option. He ran through the slicing gale, putting himself between her and her target. Arms spread out, he forced Saber to perceive him.
For a brief instant, the energy abated. A small mercy. "Get out of the way!" Saber screamed.
"Stop your Noble Phantasm!" Shirou yelled at the top of his lungs.
"The hell are you babbling?" she snarled. "I got him!"
Fate changer. Gouged heart. Certain death. There was so much he had to say, yet so little time to explain. "Her weapon warps causality! You'll be killed if you attack!"
Saber ignored him. More mana pulsed into her blade. The moment she activated her Noble Phantasm, it was over. He couldn't let that happen. Shirou rushed towards her.
He had to cancel her Noble Phantasm. He thrust his hands to Saber's gauntlets without hesitation. Red lightning scorched his flesh, but that didn't matter. He shoved the hurt to a corner of his mind. Concentrating, he tried to pry the sword away from her, but her fingers didn't budge. His efforts only stoked her anger.
"Let go," Saber warned. "Or I'll kill you."
Shirou chanced a glance away. The Answerer's blade was pointed right at Saber's heart. Bazett Fraga McRemitz wound her fist back, ready to strike.
He turned back to Saber. "Listen to me!" he implored. "You'll die!"
Wrought with rage, her face twisted and her eyes blazed. "Shut your mouth! I'll turn you into ashes!"
As if solidifying her threat, mana surged to a crest. Around Saber was a vortex of power. Her Noble Phantasm reached atmospheric heights, overpowering the night. Lightning gyrated around the pillar of light, coiling like an electric dragon. Charging was nearly complete.
Like a lunatic, Shirou was punching and shaking, begging and screaming, trying to convey his dire message to her, even as he stood in the Noble Phantasm's path. Stop it. Please. You can't. You'll die. You'll die! YOU'LL DIE!
Saber refused to hearken his pleas, not even sparing Shirou a second. Her lightning carved into him, traveling through his limbs and joints and up his back. His insides were burning with torment, but despair chilled his bones. There was no way to describe the gut-wrenching agony that filled him then, of possessing the knowledge to save her, but not the means. He was a prisoner of his own body. There was nothing he could do. Saber would attack, and then she would die. Right after she had saved his life.
The accrued mana reached an apex. Her Noble Phantasm was primed for release. "Here it comes," Saber smirked. "Clare-"
The mana dissipated with a burst of red light. Night returned to Fuyuki.
Saber floundered. She spun around, betrayal in her expression. "Rin, what the hell? Are you insane?"
Rin had her fist raised. One of three symbols on her hand faded away. A Command Seal. Saber was screaming something to her, but Shirou didn't care. He turned to Bazett.
The runes around her had evanesced, and Fragarach's blade retracted, returning to an inert leaden sphere. It dropped to the ground and rolled uselessly in the dirt. Bazett seemed shocked, her fist hanging mid-air, staring at Shirou as though she couldn't comprehend what had happened.
A sudden gauntlet to the back sent him flying to the ground. The force was enough to splinter his bones but the pain seemed far away, distant to his nerves. Unable to stand, he looked behind him. Saber was there, glaring down at him with baleful eyes. He was hurt, but above that was a firm resolution. If she wanted to kill him, he would handle it. If she hated him, he could accept that. Because all problems could be solved, and anything could be mended. As long as she lived.
Once they were safe, Shirou would make peace with Rin and Saber. They would survive the war together. That plain reassurance gave him a quiet solace.
Even as the sixth and final shot came for his head.
He had forgotten about that.
There was no one to save him this time. Lancer was injured and Saber despised him. Hrunting strove to end his existence, blade soaring closer and closer.
There was a flash of orchid light, and all of him dissolved into nothing and ascended.
Shirou felt soft hands cradle his injured body, gentle as his broken bones were realigned. Pain disappearing, he stared numbly at the ceiling. His living room, he recognized through dizziness. They were no longer on the street.
"Are you alright?" asked a soft whisper. That was Caster's voice. She was the one bearing him, and likely healing him as well. He tilted his head, finding the other occupants of the room on edge. Archer was gone, but now there was another threat.
"Release him now and I will grant you a painless death," Lancer declared. She leveled her weapon towards Caster's throat, but did not act.
Saber was at the opposite side of the room, wielding her sword as well. "Just my lucky day," she said. "This one should be easy."
Rin was at her side, seemingly bewildered. "Teleportation? That borders the realm of Magic. And another Servant too…"
Caster was using him as a faux hostage. If he was not between them, she would have been killed immediately. Shirou stood up, keeping Caster behind him, who made a surprised grunt. He raised his arms defensively. "She's on our side!"
Lancer narrowed her eyes, frowning. "Step away. It appears you have been hexed, Shirou."
"I'm perfectly fine," he retorted. Confidence rose as the burns on his hands vanished. "She just saved our lives. If she didn't teleport us away, Archer would have killed me."
Lancer's grip tightened. "Perhaps that is true," she replied. "But I will not trust another Servant so easily."
"She's an enemy either way. Better to kill her now and be done with it," Saber added.
Shirou was about to protest, but Caster spoke for herself. "If I truly wished you harm, I would have let him die. And if I had ulterior motives, I would have acted already. It would have been so effortless, too. I could slice off his arm, seize his Command Seals and bind you to my will." She gave a pointed look to Lancer, then turned her sight to Saber. "And to you, perhaps I should have left you and your Master to face Archer on your own. We both know how you would have fared."
Saber bridled at that, face flushed with anger. "I had him! If Rin didn't stop me, Archer would be dead! And him," she said, gesturing to Shirou. "If that jackass hadn't gotten in the way, none of this would have happened! Damn it! I should have let him die to Archer, that stupid moron. This is what happens wh-"
"Oh, shut it! The one you curse just salvaged your worthless life, you ungrateful brat." Caster sneered. Hard lines formed on her face.
"H-huh?" Saber said, taken aback.
"The Irishwoman was going to kill you. But the boy interfered," Caster said.
Saber tensed and pondered for a second. She quickly relaxed, scoffing. "Are you talking about the sword she was holding? That puny thing?"
"I saw it too," Rin said, sporting a thoughtful look. "There's no way a Mystic Code could kill a Servant."
"It would have," Shirou insisted.
"Most Mystic Codes aren't Noble Phantasm," Caster said. "Are you confident you could survive a blade to the heart?"
Saber widened her eyes. "That-"
Lancer cut in. "Modern magecraft pales in comparison to a Noble Phantasm," she said. Rin nodded in agreement.
"Indeed. But that weapon was wielded by the gods themselves," Caster said. "When faced with a trump card, the blade will destroy the opponent's heart. Just now, this condition was met."
"Saber's Noble Phantasm," Rin realized. "No way. If all that's true, then," she trailed off. She pressed her thumb against her mouth.
"It's true. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it myself," Shirou said. Internally, he was glad the focus shifted to Fragarach, allowing them to converse instead of fight. Though there was still friction, it was a marked improvement from their initial encounter. He wondered whether this was Caster's politicking, or if it was accidental. Regardless, he kept himself as a human shield. Attacking her meant attacking him first.
"Come on! That's way too convenient," Saber said. "Why would I believe that, especially from an enemy Servant? And how would Shirou even know that?"
Caster bristled at her tone. "For once in your life, use your head. Ask yourself this: knowing the danger, the boy leapt in front of your Noble Phantasm. Why would he do that?" Saber, befuddled, didn't respond, so Caster spoke. "He was willing to die for you."
Saber took her words in, and Shirou watched as her spirit sank from anger to denial to incredulity. "That… what?" she whispered, resting her sword. She turned to him. "Why?"
Caster sighed. "For reasons even I am not privy to."
"That doesn't matter right now," he said. He addressed the other Servant in the room, whose hand still curled around her weapon. "Lancer, can't you see that Caster doesn't have bad intentions?"
For a moment, Lancer was silent, mouth thin. "How do you know this Servant?"
"We met before the war started."
"You trust her?" she asked.
"With my life," he said firmly. Caster had saved it twice already.
Lancer contemplated his response. She seemed to want to speak again, but sighed instead. Her gauntlets fell to her side. "I suppose I have no grounds not to believe her. I will show mercy, for now."
Behind Shirou, Caster's amusement was almost tangible. "Do as you please," she said.
He swallowed a breath. Another bomb defused. But there was one final issue. He turned to Rin, grabbing her attention. He dreaded her reaction to what he was about to say."About my father."
Rin stiffened. Just like that, the tension returned. Shirou had to tread carefully now.
Raising his hands slowly, Shirou spoke from the heart. "I didn't know much about him. I loved him, but he never told me about his life before he adopted me. He never told me about the Grail War either. Caster had to explain it to me. I didn't know he was a Master, or about anything he did."
"His murders, you mean," Rin accused.
Shirou nodded. "Yeah. For what it's worth, I'm sorry for all that he's done to you. Your father did not deserve to die, and especially not by Kiritsugu's hand," he said. Closing his eyes, Shirou kneeled, settling into seiza. He bowed until his forehead grazed the tatami.
"You think an apology can make things right?" she questioned, but her voice was unsteady.
"Maybe not, but let it show my sincerity. I want you to know that you are an important person in my life. I don't want to ever be your enemy. Whatever happened between our fathers is in the past. Let it stay there."
Rin was noiseless. Shirou wondered of her current expression. Was she willing to believe him?
Her words were faint when she spoke again. "No matter what happens, I have to obtain the grail. That means I have to defeat you."
Shirou bit down his disappointment. When Rin had used a Command Seal to stop Saber, he thought she could be swayed. Nothing could ever be easy.
"But," Rin began, lifting his hopes. "If you really saved Saber's life," she said hesitantly. "Then I'm in your debt. I won't fight you for now. But that doesn't mean we're allies."
Shirou nearly slumped with relief, but kept his composure. "Great," he said. Not his druther, but he would take it. Baby steps, he thought. Any progression was better than none.
"You can get up now," Rin mumbled.
"Right," he said, and he pushed himself up.
Rin had a complicated look on her face. Her lips were pressed in a circle, and her sight was pointed away from him. Her right arm was wrapped in the crook of her left. "It's not befitting of a Master to abandon their pride like that," she said awkwardly.
"Okay?" Shirou responded, not quite understanding. He had his pride as a man and as a chef, but neither seemed valuable compared to a life. Behind him, Caster laughed.
Rin groaned, palming her head. "I'm leaving," she said. Then, she turned around and left the room, tramping through the hallway, muttering something about being way too tired for this.
Saber didn't leave with her Master. She peered at Shirou and Lancer, surprisingly pensive, until Rin's voice echoed from the doorway, calling for her Servant. She spared them one last look before leaving out the door.
The moment they left, Caster collapsed, robes pluming around her like flower petals.
"Caster?" Shirou asked, suddenly worried. Her form was faltering, fading like a sunset. He had seen that once before, when she was about to die.
"Spatial teleportation is costly," she murmured. "I used all my reserves at once, all the mana that I had accumulated since I was summoned. Everything."
She was running on fumes. Shirou projected a knife. He slashed his palm open. Caster took off her hood and ran her tongue against the cut, gradually becoming more corporeal as she consumed his blood. "Back to square one," she said wryly, then resumed using her tongue. He looked away. Though their sequence was routine, it still felt strange to watch her drink his bodily fluid.
"Are you sure about this?" Lancer asked. She was watching them with discomfort.
"The palm bleeds a lot, but it heals quickly. It's not dangerous," he said.
"That is not what I am referring to. Blood in the hands of a magus can be dangerous."
It's not in her hands, Shirou thought. "I've done this plenty of times, and nothing has happened," he said.
Lancer exhaled softly, bothered by something. "Then could you not pour simply your blood into a cup instead?"
That was a good point. Shirou didn't have a rebuttal. Perhaps they had become too accustomed.
"It's more efficient like this. I don't waste a single drop." Caster sounded oddly satisfied. "But this is vexing," she said.
She flipped Shirou's hand over. There was skin where the cut was. "Where did you obtain such powerful healing?" she inquired.
It wasn't Caster who healed him then. "I don't know. This also happened when I was poisoned. But only after I summoned Lancer," he mused.
"You were poisoned?"
"It's a long story."
Caster huffed with petulance. "Please, do tell."
Shirou recounted all that had happened, starting from the school. It did not take her long to interrupt.
"You think your heart was destroyed?" she asked, like a broken record. Her forehead was pinched. "And you don't know what happened afterward?"
"It was probably Assassin's Noble Phantasm, now that I think about it," he said.
Caster shook her head in disapproval. "Off." She made an upward gesture with her hand.
"Huh?"
"Take your shirt off," she ordered. "If you really lost your heart, then I need to check. Perhaps there is a lingering curse, or a hint of Assassin's identity."
Shirou made a sputtering sound, but acquiesced, knowing Caster's expertise. He peeled his shirt off, sticky with dried perspiration, and set it to the side.
"Is this necessary?" Lancer questioned. Her cheeks had a rosy hue, as if she was cold. Shirou tried to ignore the fluttering in his stomach.
"You can only examine so much while covered. If you're embarrassed, you can leave," Caster said.
Lancer's gaze hardened, but so did her flush. "I will not leave him unattended."
"How magnanimous of you," Caster said sarcastically. She traced a glowing finger down Shirou's chest, right above where his heart lay. The light touch tickled him pink. "You say the healing only surfaced after you summoned Lancer?"
He confirmed it.
"Whoever healed you did an excellent job. Your heart is as good as new. Literally. I'm impressed."
In terms of modern magecraft, mild praise from Caster was equivalent to lauded acclaim from someone else. Shirou counted himself lucky. His hand furled around the pendant in his pocket.
"You've yet to tell me what occurred afterward," Caster reminded him.
"I'll put my shirt back on first." He reached for the discarded garment, but Caster stopped him.
"No, I'm still examining you." She flashed a hint of a smile. Shirou could tell she was greatly enjoying this.
"Are you?" he said, not bothering to disguise his skepticism.
This time her smile was bright and full. "Of course," she replied. "Well, go on."
Shirou blushed. He continued his story, right until she teleported them to safety. At the same time, he attempted to disregard the way her fingers ran down his chest.
When he was done, Caster was exasperated. "I look away for a single day and this is what happens."
"Actually, I was curious about that. Your timing was perfect. How did you know that we were in danger?" he asked.
"I could sense Saber using her Noble Phantasm all the way from the temple. No doubt every other Servant was aware as well. Lo and behold, I find you raving in front of her, about to be reduced to dust. I gauged you mad until I saw the Irishwoman's weapon. Then I thought you inane.
"Goodness," she sighed suddenly. "What am I to do with you?" She cupped her cheek with her fingers. Her other hand was still spread on his chest. Her finger was moving as if she was doodling imaginary shapes. Shirou didn't dislike the feeling. It was pleasant.
He was so relieved to see her. Shirou hadn't realized it until now, but Caster had become an irreplaceable bastion of support. He relied on her so much. Tonight, she had saved not only him, but Rin, Lancer, and Saber as well. All unasked. He had never verbalized the great depths to which he appreciated her. He vowed to change that.
Caster had a faint tint on her pale complexion. It wasn't there before. It must have emerged over the course of his tale. It only enhanced her beauty.
Her fingers stopped moving. "What is it?" she asked innocently.
He only just noticed how close their faces were. If he leaned in…
"Ahem," Lancer said, pulling him out of his dreamery. A tide of embarrassment washed over him. "If you are done, please remove yourself from my Master."
"But I'm not done," Caster said. "I believe this concerns you, Lancer. Your bond is paltry, is it not? I believe I can repair it."
Shirou was intrigued, and so was Lancer. "Explain," she demanded.
"I have been researching the Grail. By now I understand the system well enough to manipulate it," Caster said. "Hence, I can repair your bond."
"At what cost?" Lancer asked with suspicion.
"None. This benefits us all. When it is fixed, I can siphon energy off of Shirou's bond to you. You will receive less than the total amount, but that is more than zero. In addition, I suspect I will be able to communicate with him over it. He might even be able to use his Command Seals on me."
"It sounds like you are forming a contract with Shirou," Lancer said.
"It's similar, but I expect to have greater control than what a normal contract would offer."
"Would that beget control over me?" she accused.
Caster smiled. "Do not worry. Shirou will remain your Master. I will merely regulate his output. He doesn't possess enough magical energy to supply two Servants, but I do not require much to sustain myself."
Lancer appeared to be mollified by her assurance. "If Shirou trusts you, then I will allow it. How long will it take?"
"It will take some time. No more than a few days." She turned to Shirou. "Is that acceptable, Master?" She intoned the appellation with a vivacious lilt, as if relishing the word.
Shirou nodded. "That would be amazing," he said. He hated how his botched summoning constrained Lancer. "Please do it as soon as possible."
Caster nodded, then rose to her feet. "It's time I left."
He was surprised. "It's dangerous on your own," he objected. With the war's onset, he had expected her to stay in his home.
"My workshop is in the temple," she said. "Along with all my preparations."
"Stay here," he pressed. "There might be other Servants out there. We need to be safe."
"I appreciate your concern, but my temple is as safe as can be. It would be very hard to kill me there. And there is something I must peruse. I begin to fear the Grail is not as it seems," she murmured.
Caster left a moment later, teleporting in a flurry of light.
Once she was gone, Lancer breathed a sigh of relief. When prompted, she explained that she had poor experiences with magi in the past.
By now the time was closer to dawn than midnight. Shirou was exhausted from the endless series of revelations. He wanted to ruminate, but the fatigue was creeping in, so he decided to go to bed. But before that, he gave Lancer a brief tour of his home. He showed her the rooms that still stood, like the kitchen and the bathroom, while silently mourning the ones that didn't.
"This is your room?" Lancer asked with disbelief.
"Yeah," he answered. "You sound surprised."
"I'm not surprised, for there is nothing in here to be surprised about. Is this really your room?"
There was only a futon and drawers inside. Shirou knew that a boy's room would normally have posters, books, or consoles, but he never saw the point. "I only use this room to sleep in, so I don't need anything in here," he said.
"I see. I thought you were a more assorted person." She entered his room and surveyed the interior, gently touching the wall in a soft gesture as if to check the feel. "I'm relieved," she said. A room is a reflection of the occupant. This is a desolate room, but that does not mean it is treated badly. This is a simple but warm place."
Shirou didn't see the issue. "I'm glad you like it, but does it really matter?"
"Yes. Because I shall be sleeping here from now on," she announced.
The world froze. Indecent thoughts arose in Shirou's head. "There's no way I can do that!"
Lancer made a difficult face. "Servants are to protect their Masters. The hours of sleep are the most crucial time for protecting you, so I cannot protect you unless I am in the same room."
"As a man, I can't just sleep in the same room as a girl!"
"Shirou. I am not a girl. I am but a tool to protect you. You must understand that."
Involuntarily, Shirou's sight flickered to her chestplate, then back to her eyes.
Lancer flushed. "This body is undoubtedly that of a woman. But above all, I am a Servant."
Shirou paused. If that's the case… "Are you really Saber's father?" He had a nagging curiosity, and now was his chance to assuage it.
Lancer turned scarlet. "I am Saber's father, and I am a woman. That is beside the point."
Shirou was about to ask another question, but she changed the subject. Her tone turned somber. "Of Saber, I must thank you for saving her. Though we are enemies, she was once a trusted knight of mine. It would pain me for her to die in front of me. However, let this be a one time occasion. Do not do that again," she said.
"I can't say that. If you were in that situation, I would have done the same," Shirou replied.
"That does not reassure me. As I have said, Servants are tools. A Master mustn't risk their life for one."
Something about that pissed him off. "If you don't want Saber to die, then you shouldn't fight her. She doesn't have to be our enemy."
Lancer shook her head. "From this point on, our past matters naught. Therefore, I promise you this. When the time comes and our blades clash again, I will be the one to cut her down. There will be no hesitation in my lance."
Her conviction was as steadfast as a mountain, her resolve as boundless as the ocean. It only troubled Shirou more. Family was a priceless treasure. Once lost, it could never be found again. Kin should never kill kin.
"If there are no objections, let us not waste any more time. Rest is vital for the soldier," Lancer said, not aware of his turmoil. He swept his thoughts away, focusing on the current predicament.
"Sorry, but I can't let that happen," he said. Understanding her motives, he offered a compromise. "How about you take the room next to mine? You'll be able to protect me from there." It was a guest room, but it had all the furnishings of his own, so it shouldn't be uncomfortable, either.
Lancer sighed. "I see there is no changing your mind. If this puts your mind at ease, then I shall do as you say."
She left and closed the door behind her. Shirou heard her walk a few steps to the right of his room, and then the sound of a door sliding open. There might have been an intake of breath, but it could have been his imagination.
Shirou lay in his futon, contemplating the situation. Rin, Caster, Lancer, and Saber. And himself. Innumerable secrets lay between them all. He had to find a way to navigate through this complex web of conflicting motivations, to find a way for everyone to survive.
But that could wait. A profound enervation took hold of his senses. He pulled the comforter over his body and let the weight of day overcome him.