007 - Moment's Respite

Illyasviel von Einzbern

Retreating to her room, Illya plops her ass on the bed. For a moment, she considers leaning her back on the headrest in some compromise towards dignity, but in the end her back goes the way of her ass. Letting out a tired groan as she hits the soft mattress with her full body, she spreads arms and legs in a very unladylike manner to just… lay there and stare at the ceiling.

Her groan soon becomes a pleased hum when Berserker decides to join her, the taller woman curling around the short Einzbern girl like an overgrown cat.

In her not-so-humble opinion, the whole 'strategic meeting' thing had been an utter waste of time. Yes, Lancer of Black is out of the game. Yes, Caster of Black is out of the game too. No, Berserker of Black is still around, but he won't be a problem, so they just need to worry about the other three somewhat sub-par Blackened Servants and a totally unfair Blackened Saber juiced up to the elevens with corrupt power.

How in the name of all that's holy -Or is it in the name of Demon Lord Re'em now?- did it take several hours to get the newbies caught in the situation?

Sure, watching the Animusphere girl puffing up and trying to maintain a strong façade while inwardly freaking out had been fun. It was like watching a younger, less confident Rin trying to assert dominance even while knowing she was utterly outmatched. Unfortunately, her constant questioning of everything made the whole thing last far longer than it had any right to.

And all that, for what? It's not like the girl contributed anything to the final plan. After much humming and hemming and frowning and acting important, she had no choice but to admit their plan was already the best possible usage of their current resources.

Almost like they had been planning on this for years, right?

… At least the Animusphere girl knew when she was beaten and took the L with something resembling grace. Bosses who stubbornly try to push their ideas forward to seem competent, even when they know they're in the wrong, are the worst. And Illya's fellow -heh- believer deserves something better than the worst.

Still… Illya had been half-hoping the girl would push in a certain direction, if only so she'd have an excuse to go after Berserker before the final assault. To think Herakles himself prowls the ruined Einzbern Castle, so loyal to Illya that even Blackening didn't manage to bind him to a new Master…

Distractedly, Illya starts petting Berserker's hair and ears. She'll be the first to admit that grooming her Servant like a pet has become something of an addiction by now, but she can't really help it. Petting Berserker is just… therapeutically relaxing.

"Ne, Berseker?" She muses idly.

There's no verbal answer, of course. Just a noise of curiosity to convey interest. Berserker may be capable of speech, but she doesn't really enjoy using words, so Illya learned to interpret the Servant's non-verbal cues a long time ago.

"I think you could beat Herakles, no problem."

This time, Berserker's answer is clearly dubious, making Illya pout.

"Well, maybe, but that was the actual Herakles." She concedes reluctantly. "This is just a Blackened Servant we're talking about, you would've ran circles around him."

As fellow Argonauts, the two Berserkers met in life. And Illya isn't so conceited as to assume she knows better than a hero of legend with first-hand experience. But it still doesn't sit well with her. Berserker is the strongest in the world, that's how things should be.

And if reality comes short of Illya's vision of how things should be… Why, rejecting reality is an old magus specialty!

She's only just started to properly relax, idly fantasizing about known and unknown means to improve a Servant's Spirit Origin so her Berserker can properly Highlander the hell out of Zeus' overhyped bastard when there's a knock on her door.

"It's open!" She answers lazily, struggling to raise her head enough to actually see said door. "Come right in!"

"Excuse me…" The door slides open, making way for a certain bright-eyed orangette.

In another time, in another place, Illya would've greeted her like a sister. Here, though…

"Oh, Haku-chan!" She greets the newcomer, savoring the novelty while slowly getting herself into a sitting position. "Anything I can help you with?"

"Well, Mashu is busy being doted on by Sakura and Olga is making Kouhai noises at Rin, so… I thought I'd see if you had some free time." Haku scratches her nose sheepishly. "Light novels aren't much fun to read without someone around to tease about taking them too seriously."

"Well, I'm not exactly busy here, so…" Illya shrugs, sifting a bit for comfort while Berserker's head plops on her lap. "Did you have anything specific in mind?"

"Well, it depends." Haku asks with uncharacteristic hesitation, taking a glance around the room. "Are we secure?"

"Medea did an incredible job securing this place." Illya says wistfully, reminiscing the last time she wasted an all-nighter studying the wards and knowing it won't be the last. "Even now, I can't quite wrap my head around half the active principles in play, but… You know about Oni–" Catching herself at the last moment, Illya cuts herself with a rough cough and rephrases the sentence she was about to say out loud. "You know about Demon Lord Re'em's teachings."

"Yeah, yeah… Better not to risk it." Haku sighs, stepping closer to the bed to take a seat too. "Keeping it vague then?"

"Just try not to be so vague I don't get what you're talking about." Illya teases. "What did you want to know?"

"It's about Caster." Haku says, immediately tipping Illya on what's going on. Sharp as always, this little sister of hers. "Something you said back there made me think he was the wrong dog?"

"She." Illya corrects softly.

"Eh?"

"She. Caster Class, Nitocris. The Brief Pharaoh." She explains with a grimace. "We weren't expecting her and we weren't prepared for her kit, so she gave us a lot of trouble before she finally went down. Fortunately, three on one is still three on one."

"That's…" Haku trails off worriedly. "Shouldn't it have been…?"

"We always knew things might not play exactly to script, even if that one came out of left field." Illya ruefully reminds her sister. "Damn, I wish he was here."

"Yeah, I'm sure he would've known what's going on." Haku agrees wistfully, before immediately cheering up again. "It could've been worse, though. At least we had intel on Nitocris."

"Yeah, someone like… Dunno, Morgan le Fay or some other random legendary magi we know nothing about would've been way worse." Illya concedes with a sigh. "We'll make do, as always."

And, with these words of timeless wisdom, Illya unceremoniously ends the conversation by letting herself collapse back on the bed, much to Berserker's grumbling disapproval. The grumbling subsides somewhat once she shifts around to spoon Illya and becomes pleased purrs when Haku lays on the Servant's other side for a good and proper cuddle pile.

Well, no. A good and proper cuddle pile is several times bigger and includes Onii-chan. But these won't be on the cards for a while, so Illya will enjoy what she has now. Stupid Onii-chan and his stupid harebrained plans to ensure they're all safe and happy until the end of times…

… Hmmm. At least this is nice…

Illya could've sworn she's only closed her eyes for a moment but, when she opens them again, the pale excuse for a sun shining on this Re'em-forsaken Singularity has gone down. And her stomach is helpfully informing her that some nutritional intake in short order would be appreciated. Or else.

"Dinner is served!" Sakura's voice calls from the kitchen, long practice ensuring the call echoes through every nook and cranny of the house.

"Just in time." Illya mutters, lazily rubbing her eyes and stretching out her body. "I was about to propose a snack run."

"Sakura has always had good timing." Haku agrees with a hum. "This should be Mashu-chan's first attempt at cooking, so make sure to praise her lots!"

"Even if the food sucks?" Illya asks with a teasing smile.

"Especially if the food sucks." Haku commands firmly.

'Well, well, well…' Illya thinks to herself as she watches Haku('s ass) saunter out of the room first. 'Looks like the adorable eggplant has already managed to worm her way into someone's heart…'

Matou Sakura

It's something of a novel experience, to have a younger, less experienced girl helping around the kitchen. Being perfectly honest, Sakura wasn't sure what to think of Mashu Kyrielight at first. Such a pure and earnest girl full of innocence and honest wonder at life, wanting to help for the mere pleasure of helping and wanting to fit in for the mere pleasure of fitting in…

Everything Sakura ever wanted to be, everything Sakura could only ever pretend to be.

Does it speak well of Sakura's own character, that her jealousy didn't overcome her? Or does it just go on to underscore her own wretchedness, that she even considered jealousy in the first place? Once upon a time, these questions would have plagued her for days, eating at her sanity and keeping her awake at night. Just another thing to feel miserable about, just another stain on her tainted soul.

Nowadays it is but a passing thought. Sakura is Sakura, for better or worse. She has a place where she fits in, she has precious people to love and be loved by. There's no need to kick herself about not being perfect, as long as she keeps trying her best.

"Just like that, now lower the fire and let it shimmer." She instructs gently. "Meanwhile, we can get started on the salad."

"Ah! Yes, Matou-senpai." Her eager kouhai -and isn't that an amusing thought to entertain?- hurries to obey with endearing eagerness. "We use the vegetables for the salad, right?"

"Yes! First of all, let's wash and strain the lettuce, we can prepare the rest while they're draining." Sakura indicates, taking a couple of lettuce heads out from the fridge "Be very gentle, we don't want to crush the leaves. Watch how I do it and then try on your own!"

As she starts showing her enraptured kouhai how to peel and wash lettuce heads, Sakura allows herself a moment to reminisce of the old times. Back then, years ago, a single lettuce lasted for entire days, in spite of both her senpai's -and Fujimura-sensei's- healthy appetites.

That was before Servants became a staple in their lives. Nowadays, an entire lettuce patch barely lasts a week. Senpai's home was quieter back then, which is something Sakura misses from time to time. The quiet, that is. Try as she might, Sakura can't quite bring herself to miss the times themselves.

Having a rapist pile of worms for a grandfather would do that to anyone's childhood memories, in her humble opinion.

Shaking such dark thoughts from her head, Sakura focuses on what her kouhai is doing instead. Watching Mashu's expression of intense focus as she carefully peels off a lettuce leaf and gently washes it off under the faucet, watching her entire face beaming up under Sakura's praise…. Well, it's hard for dark thoughts to linger in such circumstances.

From lettuce they go to tomatoes, then to onions, olives and carrots until the salad is ready to be served. Then Sakura takes out some leftovers from a couple days ago to teach Mashu how to make the best out of random ingredients. Finally, she decides things have been going well enough and Mashu is an attentive student, so they can touch upon something a bit more advanced like stir-fry, so she grabs the— Ara?

"Rider, we are out of oil in the kitchen. Would you mind…?"

"Don't worry, Sakura. "I'll be back in a minute."

She smiles thankfully as her Servant disappears towards the warehouse, thankful for this modest, everyday happiness they can maintain even in the direst circumstances. Incursions towards the Singularity beyond Senpai's home may be a dangerous and nerve-wracking business, but that's no reason not to enjoy the simplest pleasures of life in the safety of their home. More the reason to take it easy when they have the chance, actually.

Besides… Everything is going according to script. They only need to have faith and play their own roles.

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