The Holy Land, August 19, 2018
Crouched at Ritsuka's side, Ushi stuck her head out over the dune and glared at the enormous, winged figures prowling the valley below. They were grand and terrible and, most of all, numerous. More than thirty and fewer than fifty was all she could tell before Ritsuka pulled her back down with a gentle hand on her shoulder. Much more cautiously than she had, he peered over the top of the dune and made a face at what he saw. "Damn, that is a lot of sphinxes."
On Ritsuka's other side, Mash nodded. "The Atlas Institute's right in the middle of them, too."
From the other side of the dune, a voice roared, half-human, half something else, drowning out their quiet voices. A second later, a dozen more joined it, and then another dozen, until the sand atop the dune was trembling and Ritsuka had to clap his hands over his ears.
When it was done, he slowly pulled his hands back down. "Well… we can't wait around here until they get bored. Assuming they get bored. Anybody have any ideas?" Ritsuka glanced around the gathering of Servants.
"Cut our way through," Ushi said immediately. It was the obvious solution, and she wasn't sure why it seemed to garner so many flat looks.
"Our friend Hundred Personas notwithstanding, there's at least two of them for each of us," Bedivere noted, polite as usual. "Those seem like desperate odds."
"We've beaten desperate odds before. I can take point. If we are swift -" Ushi began.
"No!" Ritsuka said abruptly. "We've lost enough people lately." The words weren't quite a reprimand, but they hit Ushi like one. "Da Vinci… She would have known how to get past these things. Some kind of magical decoy, something. It's just too risky without a plan." He tried not to let his head drop.
Ushi dropped her eyes and swallowed her objections. They'd only escaped Lancelot weeks ago because of da Vinci's sacrifice. She'd gone out in dazzling glory, protecting her comrades with a smile on her face, very much the way Ushi hoped she'd die this time around. She'd had enough and more than enough of comrades dying for her.
"Let's just…" Ritsuka shook his head, continuing. "Let's just pull back and rest for a bit. We'll come up with something." He had to see the other Servants giving each other glances at that, but none of them objected.
With Ritsuka in the lead, the group eased back down the slope without disturbing the huge Phantasmals, and trudged away from both the sphinxes and their destination. The Hashishin fanned out into the sands to keep watch, and the rest of the group began quietly - or in Sanzang's case, boisterously - throwing around ideas for bypassing the sphinxes. Ritsuka pulled ahead a little ways, still looking troubled.
She looked back at the group as she stuck close to her lord. With the Hashishin out of sight, Mash and Bedivere chatting like old friends, and everyone else talking about sphinx this and sphinx that… This was the closest she'd gotten to a semi-private moment with RItsuka for weeks, and Jing Ke had threatened that if Ushi didn't at least try something soon, she'd start hinting in earshot of him.
As she was thinking that, Jing Ke looked up from trying to talk Sanzang out of trying to feed the sphinxes Touta's rice, and gave her a covert thumbs-up.
Argh. Friends.
But still. She shouldn't need a goad. She should seize the moment! She drew in a breath, and wIth a few quick steps, trotted out in front of Ritsuka. Walking backwards, hands tucked deferentially behind her waist, she leaned over to look at his downcast face. "My lord?" she asked. That was usually a good place to start.
"What -" He looked up, startled, then gave a wan smile. "We're not charging the sphinxes, Ushi."
Ushi still held that her idea was the best. In the end, it would all come down to a race, a fight, or both, and how they got there wasn't really a concern for her. "Sometimes a clever plan is needed, but against sphinxes? We're more than a match for them."
Some humor crept into his eyes. "I'm glad your confidence never falters, at least."
"Confidence is always key, my lord. We will not get anywhere by hesitating," she replied, struggling not to show her irritation at the irony. Jing Ke might be laughing even now. Or perhaps facepalming. Suddenly determined to brighten his mood, she grinned back at him. "Their heads would make impressive trophies, don't you think?"
He rolled his eyes at her even as his smile grew. "Seriously, where would I even put one?" A snrk escaped him. "I really don't want any heads, but it'd almost be worth it just to see what Dr. Roman would say."
She laughed, both at the thought and at her own success. Mission accomplished! Still walking backwards, she gave a bow. "I am here to help, my lord."
"Were you just trying to brighten my day, or was there something else?"
"Ah…" She blinked and straightened up, suddenly hesitant. "There was something I wished to speak to you about, but it seems now is not the time, for any number of reasons."
He gave a concerned look. "If there's a problem…"
"No! There's no problem!" Ushi wasn't sure what there was, exactly, but she certainly hoped it wasn't a problem. "Er, neither is it urgent, my lord. It can wait."
Ritsuka shrugged. "I'm too anxious to come up with clever solutions right now. If you've got something that'll take my mind off of the situation, fire away."
Well, there was a good chance it would do that, Ushi supposed. This wasn't exactly the kind of flirtation she'd intended, but sometimes you just had to take what you could get. She swallowed, and managed a faint smile. "In that case, my lord… I wanted to ask you if -"
With no warning whatsoever, one of Hassan of the Hundred Personas's bodies appeared beside them - the spokeswoman with the long black hair and the skull mask. Before Ushi could even give her a glare for interrupting, she said, "We are found." One dark-skinned arm pointed in the direction opposite the valley of sphinxes. "The Knight of the Lake has returned."
They turned to look at the horizon, where a cloud of dust was approaching, too low and dense to be weather. Metal glinted in the desert sun within it. A lot of metal.
Ushi glared at the speck in blue and silver leading them. A phrase Ritsuka sometimes used came to mind; it seemed to fit her feelings at that moment.
God dammit, Lancelot.
"We've got to gather back up. The only way out now is through the sphinxes," Ritsuka said. Ushi spared him a glance as she wiped Enforcer Knight blood from her blade. When things were dire was when he looked the most present - as if it was only in a crisis that he could get out of his own head. He was clearly afraid, and even more clearly ignoring it. It would be nice, she thought, to see him look that way without the fear. Especially if it was at her. A moment later, she reminded herself that this was not the time, and turned her attention back to the battle.
The Enforcer Knights had dismounted to attack, presumably because warhorses were hard to come by, and there was no easier way to be made to look like complete fools than to try to charge a host of warriors on untrained horses. That had slowed their advance somewhat, but it didn't change that there were hundreds of them, all Divinely-enhanced.
And they had Lancelot.
As she watched, the knight in silver and blue nearly bisected Bedivere and beat back half a dozen Hundred Personas clones in as many seconds. Bedivere's face grew paler and his silver arm shone brighter and brighter as he fought, but even when he matched the power of Lancelot's blows, he couldn't land a clean hit. Lancelot's advance was nearly as unstoppable as Hercules' pursuit had been in Okeanos, but instead of divine strength, all the knight needed was his incredible skill. He was simply outfighting everyone who faced him.
It made Ushi's sword hand itch with eagerness. The tall knight wasn't the worst of his order; that distinction went to that butcher of a musician. But if there was one warrior here she longed to match herself against, it was him. Lancelot du Lac was a legend even on the Throne, not for impossible strength or fabulous deeds, but for his pure prowess as a warrior.
Watching the same thing, Ritsuka frowned. "They're not going to be able to hold him," he said tersely.
"Leave it to me." She dropped her hand to her sword and strode toward their attackers, a smile on her face. "Watch me, my lor-"
"Wait!" She heard Ritsuka yell and caught herself after the first step. Ritsuka gave her a dismayed look, his focus broken. "Ushi, that's Lancelot du Lac. He's supposed to be literally unbeatable, right?" Mash had given everyone a crash course in Arthurian legend, and she'd driven home his superlative prowess with almost as much fervor as she'd complained of his character flaws.
Ushi reined in her impatience and looked Ritsuka in the eyes. "I know his story, my lord. An unbeatable prodigy with a legendary blade. Nobly born, then exiled and raised by a nature spirit to be the greatest warrior of his era." She tilted her head and gave him a pointed smile. "His tale is not the only such one."
Ritsuka opened his mouth to argue, then closed it, frowning. After a moment, he said, more thoughtfully, "I guess that would sound familiar to you, wouldn't it?" He shifted his gaze pensively between her and the marching knights.
She could have told him that they owed Lancelot for da Vinci's death, but she recoiled inside when she imagined the hurt on his face. Besides, an end like da Vinci's shouldn't be fodder for arguments. Instead, she said in a jesting manner, "If Mash and Sir Mordred back in London have told the truth, and his weakness truly is beautiful women, I'll have the upper hand. Or have you forgotten my infamous seduction technique?"
Despite himself, Ritsuka barked a startled, weary laugh. "I don't think I could forget that." He still hesitated, looking between her, the single remaining stroke of his Command Seal, and the oncoming enemy.
I can do this, she wanted to tell him. Trust me. Please. Instead of saying it out loud, Ushi bit her tongue and waited. If her lord didn't trust her to fight for him, then what good was she?
He drew in a long breath, giving her a look like he'd heard her anyway. Then his expression firmed, and he nodded. "Okay. You know there's no one else to back you up, there's just too many of the damn Enforcers, but we've got to regroup. Buy us some time, and don't get caught. When we make a break for it, get back here as fast as you can."
Yes! She put all her pride and gratitude into an eager grin. "Shall I bring back his head when I do?"
He shook his head with a reluctant smile. "You're a god damn menace." The smile fell away, leaving a worried and serious face. There was a quiet intensity to his voice when he said, "I don't care about his head, Ushi. Bring back your own. That's a command, okay?"
"My lord, I -" Warmth blossomed in her chest even as her grin faltered in surprise. He wasn't worried she'd fail him. He was worried for her. Filled with sudden, joyful determination, she bowed and said, as earnestly as she could, "I won't fail you, my lord."
The corners of his mouth curved back up, just a little, and a hint of amusement glinted in his eyes. "Then kick his ass."
His send-off left a fierce grin on her face as she raced up the dunes, throwing a plume of sand behind her. She didn't hear her lord call Bedivere back over the wind of her passage. Up ahead, the Enforcer Knights advanced relentlessly, but she only had eyes for their leader. At the top of the last dune before the enemy, she paused. The only thing keeping him in the fight seemed to be Lancelot's reluctance to strike a deadly blow against him.
Usumidori sang softly in her hand as she drew it, letting it catch the sunlight. She filled her lungs and cried, "Lancelot du Lac! I am Ushiwakamaru of the Genji, Rider of Chaldea, and my lord has charged me with your defeat! Face me, Servant of the Lion King!" Lancelot's dark eyes swung to her, and he shifted his feet to meet her charge, which was all the answer she needed. Without waiting for a further response, she leaned into a sprint, swift as an arrow's flight.
Watch me, my lord.
In the moments it took Bedivere to scramble back towards her lord. Usumidori's curve slipped around his first parry, and the only thing that saved his eye was a lightning-quick twitch of his head. Momentum carried her past, and she spun, cutting off his counterattack with a flurry of blows that rang against his golden blade so fast it sounded like a single strike. His defense was immaculate, and the moment she paused, he flicked his wrists and cut upwards, then nearly took her arm off as she slid aside. She slipped beside him with a shukuchi step that flashed across the distance, but her cut at his neck failed to draw blood when he twisted and parried over his shoulder.
So much for a quick head to present to her lord. Oh, well, chances were he wouldn't have appreciated it. One day, maybe!
Arondight blurred toward her, and instinct told her not to parry - she didn't doubt Usumidori, old friend, but the solidity of his parries told her his Strength was far beyond hers and a solid parry would swat her aside in a most undignified way. She slipped underneath the blow instead, and her feet flexed in the way Kiichi had drilled into her, flicking herself backwards out of range of his follow-up.
Lancelot strode forward, and she went to meet him, three steps to his one. She couldn't keep a warrior like him busy if she disengaged completely - which made her Eight-Boat Leap mostly useless. A shame she had such a hard time accessing the other aspects of her Noble Phantasm as a Rider. Dozens of strikes and counterstrikes flickered between them as she darted around him, attacking from every angle she could manage, skipping away in the moments between only to re-engage before either of them could take a breath.
He gave as good as he got, keeping her blade from his armor but unable to catch her. She'd never faced a challenge quite like this, neither alive nor as a Servant. The opportunity to face a warrior who truly challenged her was such a rare thing that it had to be treasured. The knight's swordsmanship was immaculate, every stroke clean and swift, each parry perfect. Lancelot didn't need his sovereign's Gift to be head and shoulders above other warriors; he was a virtuoso of the blade, born to wield a sword.
Fortunately, so was she.
Still, she was getting nowhere with her hit-and-run tactics. If she couldn't afford to stay outside his reach, she'd simply have to get inside it and stay there.
Ushi kicked back from the clash of blades, landed in a crouch, and uncoiled into a lunge no human could have tracked with their eyes. Lancelot stepped aside and cut at where she'd be a fraction of a second later, but she'd dug her geta in to slow herself and Arondight's bright arc sheared the air in front of her face instead of cleaving through her neck. From only a pace away, well within the measure of his blade, she looked up from her half-crouch and had the satisfaction of seeing Lancelot's eyes narrow just a little in realization of his predicament.
With a wordless warcry, she launched an all-out attack. Usumidori gleamed like the sun through spring leaves as it flickered through dozens of cuts in a handful of seconds. As Lancelot fell back, she matched step and continued to rain blows on him. She held nothing back. Every strike was aimed to cripple or kill - eyes, throat, wrists, joints, anywhere her blade might slip past his heavy armor.
Lancelot du Lac hunkered behind his armor and Arondight's broad blade and weathered her storm. This close, he didn't have the angle or speed to deflect every strike, but instinct or training led him to unerringly intercept the necessary ones. The only strikes he allowed past were the ones he could turn against his armor. She left scores on his pauldrons and breastplate and gashes in his vambraces, but she could not quite manage to draw blood.
As she searched for a way past his defense, Lancelot pivoted at the waist and twisted his wrists in a way that looked both awkward and completely natural. His next parry was a swift arc of faerie metal that torqued her blade out of line, somehow using the curve of her blade against her. Like a dancer in plate-and-mail, he continued the motion, bringing Arondight around in a shining circle toward her waist. Ushi vaulted off the ground and let Arondight pass beneath her. These Western knights were too accustomed to beating on each others' steel shells to be used to the sort of maneuvering she favored.
But Arondight's backswing came impossibly soon, while she was still in the air. Lancelot had smoothly swapped hands and half-sworded his blade mid-swing for a quicker reversal. She gritted her teeth and twisted desperately to catch the blade on her own. The greatsword rang like a chime as Usumidori caught it, and the force of the blow smashed her aside a good half-dozen meters. She landed on her shoulder and smoothly turned it into a tumble to her feet.
There was that Strength advantage. Once more, she almost lamented not being summoned as a Saber. Yoshitsune would give Lancelot a real challenge. But then, she wouldn't feel that bright spark of joy when she considered Ritsuka watching her hold her own against the Knight of the Lake...
Both of them brought their weapons back to guard and regarded each other. Lancelot lowered his blade a few handbreadths and nodded to her. "Ushiwakamaru, was it? It's rare that I face someone with your talent." His voice was grave and courtly. "In the name of the Lion King, I ask you to surrender. I'll not lie; there's only the smallest chance my King will spare you, but I would consider it a shame to kill you here."
She met his eyes and let her disdain show on her face. His skill might be beyond reproach, but as she'd told Ritsuka, she knew his tale, and the man himself impressed her not at all. "And dishonor myself? Only a shameless cur would betray their lord's trust."
The dark circles under his eyes became even more prominent. Regret shadowed his eyes for a moment, before it was replaced with grim determination. "I beg your pardon, chevalier." He raised his sword in salute. Its blade glimmered blue. "Have at you, then."
It seemed she'd touched a nerve.
Lancelot's lunge was even faster than before, and the only thing that saved Ushi was that she'd spun aside at the first sign of an attack. Arondight sheared through her shoulder armor but drew no blood. As the shards of her armor flew through the air, she let the impact add to her momentum and spun like a top, Usumidori lashing out. In a show of finesse that made her eyes widen, he caught the strike on the very handle of his sword, in the few centimeters separating his hands.
The knight pushed her sword away again and retaliated with a flurry of hard, two-handed swings that left no openings between them, any one of which would have killed her outright if they'd landed. In quick succession, she deflected another blow up and over her head, backpedaled away from another blindingly fast reverse cut, and was nearly cut in half when she started to duck a crosswise swing that abruptly changed direction. A desperate roll to the side was all that kept her in one piece.
She needed to seize the initiative back quickly or she was going to pay in blood for that retort. For a few heartbeats, though, it took everything she had to keep his sword from her skin. She got her feet back under her only to nearly lose them to a low sweep, then flickered away out of his reach to avoid the follow-up. The respite only lasted a moment before he came after her, moving Servant-swift, unwilling to let her move freely any longer.
Ushi wasn't out of tricks by any means, but Lancelot was every bit as good as she was and a bit more. The knight was better armed and armored, with superior reach and strength, and beyond all of that his Divine Gift was feeding him energy every moment he fought. He was barely breathing hard. She was going to have to come up with something else.
Perhaps she'd try something nostalgic, then. It had worked against Benkei, after all, long ago.
Whirling fast enough to blow the sand aside, she met Lancelot's advance with a series of sweeping, two-handed blows that left her overextended. It must have looked like a trap, but experienced eyes could see that despite her advantage in speed, her blade was just the tiniest bit too low to recover in time. In short, the sort of trap that could be turned on its user by a swordsman skilled enough to see it and take advantage.
The world seemed to slow to a crawl when the counterattack came. Ushi saw Lancelot's hair flutter in the breeze of his own movement as he shifted from a two-handed parry into a horizontal thrust just as her blade moved too far down. She saw his eyes focus on her chest, just left of center, and watched Arondight's tip glide toward her heart, following that look. It was the ideal counter at the ideal time. Lancelot's form was perfect, an ideal of swordsmanship, like an illustration from a fencing manual come to life.
But one of the things Kiichi had taught her was that your own inspiration could take you farther than someone else's perfection. For a tengu - or a genius - the reason to learn 'proper' techniques was so you could move beyond them.
Instead of trying to haul her sword back in line, she let it continue down and around, and vaulted forward into a flip over the oncoming thrust.
Each grain of sand they had kicked up during their exchange twinkled in the sunlight around her as she spun. She felt like she could track the gleam from each one as it went by, but all of them were outshone by the gleam of Arondight's tip as it passed beneath her upside-down face, close enough that her breath could have fogged its mirror finish. One strand at a time, hairs drifted down across her field of vision as the sword's edge shortened a lock of her bangs by a finger's width. But the blade didn't manage to touch her skin. Instead of a cleft skull, all she felt was the exhilaration of perfect effort, that feeling of joyful rightness that came with doing something impossibly difficult so well that it became possible.
She really did hope Ritsuka was watching this.
Then she was upright again, and her feet came down atop the edge of Lancelot's blade as lightly as a songbird's. She alighted so gently that even Arondight's faerie-smithed edge didn't split her geta . The world sprang into motion again like she was emerging from the water, and Lancelot's eyes went wide with shock as she took a quick step forward right onto Arondight's crossguard. Her blade, continuing the motion she'd started with her feint, had come full circle with her and was already sweeping at his unprotected neck.
Unfortunately, merely doing the impossible wasn't quite enough to beat a warrior of Lancelot's caliber. He swayed like a willow, back and to the side, and shoved his sword upwards, carrying her with it. The maneuver pulled his head out of her sword's path, and turned her beheading stroke into one that merely clipped his temple. Blood and skin flew, but she'd caught nothing vital. She gathered herself to skip aside, but the knight levered Arondight up and around beneath her, and she had to leap well free before he smashed her into the ground with it.
Ushi tumbled half a dozen meters across the sand before she caught herself with a hand. She vaulted back to her feet before her momentum was spent, sword up and ready.
Lancelot was already striding towards her with Arondight raised, blood trickling into his purplish hair. "This is your last chance to yield," he said, which nearly made her roll her eyes. Duty, honor, and competitiveness might pull her in different directions, but none of those led to surrender.
Sweat was dripping down into her eyes, but she didn't lift a hand from her hilt to wipe it. From the corners of her eyes, she saw the hulking Enforcer Knights moving to surround her at a distance, reluctant to directly interfere without a command.
This was going to make escape problematic, she reflected. She hoped it wasn't her time to die yet.
With a clap of thunder and a howl of wind, the sky darkened from blue to grey. Sand began to swirl as winds gusted back and forth. The Enforcers stopped and cowered as a woman's enormous, angry face appeared in the skies, glaring down at them like the god she claimed to be. A titanic voice rang out from above. "Scoundrels! You dare to wreak your havoc here, in the most cherished land of the Sun King?"
Neither Ushiwakamaru nor Lancelot spared Nitocris's sudden show more than a glance, but as reluctant as she was to retreat, this was clearly exactly the distraction they'd needed. It was not her time to die yet, it seemed, but it was definitely time to go.
"Neither my lord nor I shall yield today," she declared. With another flickering step, she disengaged, blurring away from Lancelot, then leapt over the surrounding Enforcer Knights as he started to pursue. One distracted knight's pauldron made a convenient foothold, and she sent the huge figure sprawling to the ground in front of its leader as she sprang again. She might be hard-pressed to outfight Lancelot du Lac, but outracing him was no contest at all.
In seconds, Ushi was skidding to a halt next to Ritsuka, who grabbed her shoulder practically before she'd stopped. "That was crazy! And amazing! And you - " He leaned closer so she didn't have to shout over the giant Nitocris head's ranting, and his sudden proximity was a little flustering. His expression and his eyes on her were disconcertingly intense. "You scared the shit out of me! I thought - " He stopped, shaking his head. "Why did you land on his sword?! "
Aha! He had been watching. Ushi couldn't help but grin. "I want a rematch, my lord," she said, still breathing hard.
Ritsuka stared at her, then made a strange face and dropped his head forward with a groan she could barely hear. When he looked up, his worry had been replaced with consternation and a weird, reluctant happiness. "That's it!" he shouted to the whole group. "We still don't have a plan, but we're getting out of here before anyone else decides to have more fun than is good for them! Everybody over the big dune and down the slope, now, before those knights get their act together! Pick a sphinx that looks friendly and run towards it!"
Most of their ragged caravan, Hashishin, Servants, and mortals alike, started to make their way down the back of the dune toward the milling, muttering sphinxes. "Dibs on the one with rainbow wings!" said Sanzang, hiking up her robes to put on a startling burst of speed.
Ritsuka turned to the few who hadn't started moving yet. "Mash, I'm serious! Stop glaring at Lancelot and go!" Reluctantly, the Shielder tore herself away and started running. "You too, Bedivere! I swear I'll carry you like a duffel bag if I have to!" Ah, there was that fire she liked to see in his eyes.
"What if none of the sphinxes look friendly, Master?" Jing Ke shouted, already well ahead.
"Then make friends!" he hollered back, trying to keep his balance as he half-ran, half-skidded down the slope towards the beasts.
Ushi fell into pace just behind him. Someone had to watch his back in case the knights had something up their armored sleeves, and anyway she just felt like staying close to him. She'd missed the chance for a worthy death or a glorious victory, but that was all right. It wasn't as though she was short of opportunities for either one.
And right now, the thought of a worthy death didn't appeal. Gratifying as it would have been to finish that fight, she found it more gratifying to know her lord was genuinely concerned for her. If her lord wanted her alive so badly, then she would be remiss if she let herself be killed, wouldn't she?
Now she just had to find the right time to finish that conversation she'd started. It could wait, though. She thought she had a little bit of the answer she was looking for already.
August 22, 2018: The Holy Land
In his guest suite in Rameses' temple complex, Ritsuka yawned up at the drapery of his canopy bed. There were no windows, but a series of bronze mirrors let in a gentle, relaxing glow like sunset that illuminated the lovely murals on the walls. He was pretty sure there wasn't any way mirrors could get sunlight around that many corners without interruption. In fact, he was pretty sure the sun had gone down hours ago, but being sure didn't make the light disappear. One of the perks of being a sun god at home, presumably.
Of course Ramesseum Tentyris had entire wings devoted to lavish visitors' rooms. Why not? It wasn't like it was a temple to an absentee owner like Zeus, listening to prayers from up on Olympus. It was Rameses' temple, a literal house for a literal god on Earth, who might want to have guests over sometimes.
He had to admit it was nice of the Pharaoh to give them a pleasant place to rest after beating him up. Rameses was… well, he was a whole lot, but he was as bombastically magnanimous once he'd accepted them as he'd been bombastically dismissive before. It never stopped being frustrating that so many people felt the need to fight with Chaldea as a prerequisite to, well, fighting with them, but at this point his only response when it happened was an exasperated shrug he'd learned from Hans. Gatekeeping saving the world never stopped seeming absurd to him. "You must be this tall to pick a fight with God," he muttered, only half joking.
At least that's one more Demon Pillar down, or something. I think. Was that Pillar even supposed to be here? Rameses looked like he'd just called it up himself. That guy… Argh! But last Singularity there were a couple dozen of them all told, even if we only personally ran into one. I guess there could still be more here? It wasn't a very coherent stream of thought, but it had been a very long day at the end of a very long week and his bed was very comfortable.
Anything comfortable enough to make him drowsy despite all the unanswered questions of the day and all the dramatic revelations the Sun King had dropped in their lap was a godsend, no pun intended. Maybe they could import some of these cushions back to Chaldea. He could feel the tension drain out of his shoulders and back as he settled against the mattress. His eyes slid shut.
And just like the last few times he'd tried to sleep, Ushiwakamaru's face appeared unbidden in his mind's eye, just as she'd looked a few days ago after her duel with Lancelot - hair disarranged, flushed from exertion and breathing hard, wearing a happy, exhilarated grin and leaning close to him with a gleam in her eye -
HIs eyes quickly opened again.
Dammit. Ritsuka sighed, thumping his head against the pile of pillows and trying to slow his suddenly racing pulse.
He was never going to get a decent night's sleep ever again, was he?
Author's Notes:
I hope the fight seems reasonable to people who care about matchups.
The theme for this chapter is 'Wargirl', by Sybrid and Tatiana Shishkova.