Oneshot. Nearing completion.
Inspired by exactly two years without an update to this fic, from which the original idea (you'll know what it is) is borrowed.
The title comes from Alice Margatroid's theme, "Plastic Mind", in Touhou 5, a game which, after hearing part of its soundtrack, I have decided to play the first chance I get.
And now:
Plastic Mind
by Kamikaze Wraith
This day of all days.
This date had to come this day of all days.
But then, thatÆs what heÆd thought the previous year, when heÆd just met Haruka. And the one before that, when he was still wandering. Frankly, on this date, no day was ever a good day.
Urashima Keitaro sighed, shifting from the cross-legged position heÆd assumed on the floor as he meditated û an evening ritual to compliment his morning workouts.
And, of course, a required step on those days when he decided to practice that.
Keitaro groaned as he stood up, his legs protesting after having been crossed for longer than an hour. Rolling his shoulders to let loose some tension, he walked across his dark room, skillfully dodging the piles of books and notebooks scattered across the floor without any of his characteristic clumsiness, stopping only as he came face to face with a small mirror heÆd hung on the wall the day before, as a small measure of preparation. Not bothering to turn on the lights, ûhis eyes had long since adjusted to the darkness of the room- he regarded his own reflection with a critical eye. Thin face, pale skin, brown eyes framed by glasses and a mop of untidy black hair. His body, too, looked as it always did: skinny with a side of lanky.
The glamour was holding up, it seemed.
Not that he expected anything else û short of any sorcery somehow nullifying it directly, it would hold up at least three days past this date. A non-issue, considering he was going to have it recharged tonight.
Still, he couldnÆt help but admire such a skillful work û glamour charms were difficult, and not at all something he could have done himself, who only had one talent at his disposal. A charm that lasted for over a year before it needed to be re-charged was completely beyond him.
æHaruka is truly admirable, in this regard,Æ Keitaro thought to himself. Despite the sadness this date usually brought him, perhaps heÆd at least be able to enjoy one of the few times he was able to talk to her freely.
Sighing, Keitaro withdrew his gaze from the mirror, eyes shifting to the alarm clock that rested on his bedside table. It would still be at least half an hour until dinner.
Enough to practice his one talent. It had been over a week already û despite his ability to consistently stick to his other routines, for some reason this placid life was causing him to become a slacker in regards to his only unique ability. A dangerous thing, since he couldnÆt afford to lose the proficiency heÆd shed so much blood for. Silently, he promised to himself that heÆd correct such laziness.
And besides, even if he for some reason hadnÆt felt committed to do it on other days, on this date, on this day of all days, there was no way he could not do it.
He owed it to himself, to everyone, to his ideal, to practice this talent at least on this date.
Taking a deep breath, Keitaro again sat cross-legged on the floor, and closed his eyes, concentrating. This process usually took mere seconds now, but when he practiced like this, he liked to take it slow.
Achingly, bit-by-bit, he began to imagine the sword.
The image came in just as slowly, but it was, as always, there û a sharp edge of steel polished to such brightness it might as well be silver, a crossguard of gold and jewels, with a golden grip crowned by a sapphire.
It reminded him of the beautiful girl with green eyes, and of the terrible battle that was her life.
And it reminded him of his own fight as well. The fight to keep his ideal. The battle against himself.
It reminded of everyone, really. All those people who, for some reason or another, he was sure he would never see again.
Rin, Sakura, Fuji-neeà
àSaber.
Ilya.
This sword embodied his battle û it was not, like his other two weapons of choice, made for the sake of being made. Unlike those other swords, its beauty lay on something different.
An ideal.
And despite that, despite the fact that it was based on an abstract concept, the Sword in the Stone, Caliburn, retained its power and beauty.
And it did so because the ideal behind it was beautiful. Peace and prosperity, the promise of a Utopia, were beautiful.
It comforted him to know that, because it told him that if his own ideal was beautiful enough, then it did not matter if it was unachievable. As long as he struggled to keep it as a close to a reality as he could, the sword that was himself would forever stay sharp.
Opening his mouth, he whispered the magic words.
ôTrace, on.ö
At that moment, the sword came to life in his mind, and the fake identity that was ôUrashima Keitaroö was washed away.
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i am the bone of my sword
He knew where it was that it all went wrong.
He shouldnÆt have been so mistrustful, shouldnÆt have refused TohsakaÆs help when she offered her alliance.
But he did. Like an arrogant fool, he did.
Still, Saber and himself did their best. And they survived through the early days of the Holy Grail War. Against all odds, they survived.
But then came the turning point. Matou Sakura, his junior, who had been steadily growing weaker, finally came down with a strong fever, almost collapsing while preparing dinner. Dutifully, he laid her to rest on the guest room, worrying.
The thing that awoke on her bed next morning was the most horrifying creature he had ever laid eyes upon. After a short confrontation ended via a forced command spell, Saber and himself barely escaped with their lives, leaving the monster to destroy the house in a large conflagration.
Fuji-nee wasnÆt so lucky.
Her final scream was to this day burnt into his mind.
steel is my body
and fire is my blood
Taken by surprise, with no one to aid them, they had only one place to go. It was dangerous, but taking the risk was better than the mortal danger that was standing around, waiting for Sakura to hunt them down.
So they marched off to Castle Einzbern.
To Ilyasviel. And Berserker.
They ran through the streets, and then into the dark forest, and out of desperation burst inside the castle hall when their calls were not answered.
What greeted them there was a scene of destruction. A man clad in brilliant gold stood at the top of the main staircase, countless Noble Phantasms floating behind him. Berserker lay kneeling, chained and utterly defeated, in front of him. He was already fading away.
Nodding in self-satisfaction the man turned his gaze towards a terrified Ilya.
ôI only need your heart. The rest of you can vanish.ö
A single Noble Phantasm flew out.
His heart stopped.
He couldnÆt let it happen.
Everything he believed in was worthless if he let it happen.
He was not going to let it happen.
He jumped.
i have created
over one thousand blades
It was unbelievable.
It happened, of course, but it was unbelievable.
He saved her, knocking her down at the last minute, pressing her tiny, warm body against his own.
He saved her, but he wasnÆt fast enough to stop her from being wounded.
Though it missed the killing blow, the Noble Phantasm cut open a gash in her side, blood spurting everywhere. The girl screamed in pain and abject misery.
Meanwhile, the man in gold laughed like a madman, and, shrugging, pointed another Noble Phantasm at the two.
At that moment, however, Saber stepped in, brandishing her blade, and he stopped.
ôSaber.ö
ôArcher.ö
ôNot Archer. Gilgamesh, King of Heroes!ö
As the two Servants bantered, however, he noticed IlyaÆs breathing start to become erratic. As he did, she looked up at him, tears running down her cheeks, and mouthed a ôthank youö.
She was bleeding to death.
She was bleeding to death, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
Nothingà unless.
He looked at the golden Servant, who possessed all the worldÆs Noble Phantasms in his treasury.
Calmly, he placed Ilya gently on the floor, got up, and walked in front of him, ignoring SaberÆs protests.
The golden Servant laughed at his bravado, but magnanimously asked what a lowlife such as him could possibly want.
ôTo negotiate,ö he responded.
And then he told him about Sakura, about what she had become, about how she was strong enough to swat Saber around like a fly.
He told him that they could ally to stop her. In return for one thingà
unaware of loss
nor aware of gain
àhealing Ilya. Clearly, someone with as many treasures as him would possess a potion that could heal her wounds. ThatÆs all he asked, in exchanged for his help.
The Servant laughed like a madman, mocking him at length. That he was a lowlife, a fool. That he, Gilgamesh, could deal with a nuisance like Sakura on his own, and that, besides, he needed IlyaÆs heart to be the core of the Holy Grail.
That was it.
He had known the Servant would say that.
That meant there was one option left for himà but his ideal could not stretch to that point.
He took at Ilya, her breathing ragged and sallow, her blood decorating the floor.
It didnÆt matter how far his ideal went.
He cast his last dice.
ôI can get you a better core.ö
ôOh?ö
ôThis Sakura girl comes from a mage family, and after whatever happened to her, she is impossibly strong. She fulfills all the requirements, doesnÆt she? Besidesà IÆve got a connection with her. She might hesitate enough to help subjugate her.ö
He couldnÆt believe what he was saying, but he couldnÆt let Ilya die.
Letting her die would be betraying her gratitude for trying to save her. And letting her die would be betraying his own ideal.
To avoid this, he cast his ideal away.
The golden Servant burst into mad laughter, pointing at him as if he were some sort of circus attraction.
He was amusing, he told him. Incredibly amusing for a lowlife. And even though he was certain that he didnÆt need him, that he could just take IlyaÆs heart as the coreà
ôàalright, lowlife.ö
It made taking Saber easier in the long run, at any rate, and it would amuse him for a while.
Reaching into the Gate, he withdrew a small phial, which he tossed to the boy.
He caught it deftly.
ôThat should be enough to keep her alive for now,ö the golden Servant said, ôbut only my eternity potion could cure her. And IÆll want the core delivered before I give it to you.ö
The boy nodded, and gave Ilya the contents of the phial.
Life returned to her, miraculously returning part of her strength and closing her large wound into a much smaller gash.
ôCare though, the effect wonÆt last forever.ö
The King of Heroes then turned around and began walking away.
ôMeet me at the temple. If this woman is anything like what you say she is, everything is already being decided there.ö
have withstood pain
to create many weapons
After a while, he and Saber followed him, the boy cradling a weak Ilya in his arms.
ôYou saved me, onii-chan,ö she said.
And as they trudged through the forest, she spilled her heart out to him.
Who her father was.
Who she herself was.
Why had she had been looking for him.
And he knew, at that moment, that he could not fail in this task.
He could never fail her. Not the way he had failed Sakura. Not the way he had failed Fuji-nee.
waiting for oneÆs arrival
When they arrived at the temple, everything was in chaos.
Gilgamesh was nowhere to be seen. Caster, RyuudojiÆs only known resident, had apparently already been dispatched. For some unfathomable reason, the dissecated corpse of Matou Shinji greeted them at the base of the entrance stairs.
In the center of the templeÆs courtyard, a large battle still raged. On one side was Sakura.
On the other was Tohsaka and her Servant, Archer, and a decrepit old man commanding a skeletical black Servant. They didnÆt look like they trusted each other, but had apparently been forced to band together to combat the threat.
Leaving Ilya to rest on a far flung wall, Shirou and Saber charged into the fray, and then, at that momentà
àthe world changed.
Suddenly, they were not facing Sakura in Ryuudoji, but in a flat, red plain with no sky, for the entire sky was obscured by swords.
Endless swords floating above them with more being pulled out of the ground by the second.
This was ArcherÆs doing.
And yetà to the boy, this was beautiful.
Tohsaka gave the command, and the swords descended. They tore through Sakura, but also, in a clever feat of treachery, through the old man and the black Servant, killing the last two almost instantly. But not beforeà
ôZabaniya!ö
ôUngh!ö
The red world shattered.
Archer was wounded. He would fade soon. But he had done enough. In the opening he createdà
ôTake this!ö
A dozen jewels smashed against Sakura in a flash of light.
She was done. That energy, combined with the thousands of swords that had impaled her before, put Sakura instantly out of commission. She fell, unconscious, towards the floor, only to be caught and, in a complete surprise, embraced by Rin.
Meanwhile, the boy and Saber approached. Archer turned to look at them. He was already fading into sparks.
ôRin,ö Archer said. Tohsaka looked up, eyeing Saber in surprise.
ôThereÆs still one Servant left, Rin. Tch, looks like this idiotÆs going to be the one to take care of it. What a damn shame.ö
And Archer faded away, cynical ætill the end.
As Shirou opened his mouth to speak û
ôTsk, lowlife! You barely even fought!ö
Gilgamesh, walking towards them.
ôBut whatever. You begged for the potion. Now give me the girl, mongrel.ö
RinÆs eyes widened.
ôYou couldnÆt possibly-ô
ôKnock her out, Saber.ö
The Servant moved faster than lightning, and punched Rin in the skull. The girl dropped like a sack full of rocks.
ôGet Ilya.ö
Saber nodded, though with some reluctance. This kind of maneuvering was against her creed. She rushed to the temple entrance, and brought Ilya back in a flash.
Gilgamesh seemed to find it all positively hilarious.
ôThe girl before the potion, mongrel, before I change my mind.ö
The boy nodded, disgusted, but with some effort, he carried Sakura to Gilgamesh and placed her at his feet.
ôAlright then. Be grateful, mongrel.ö
He reached into the Gate, and handed him a vial of a pink liquid. Shirou fed it to Ilya.
The effect was instantaneous. IlyaÆs weakness vanished, her wound closed completely, and color returned to her face.
She opened her eyes blearily, staring in complete amazement.
ôOnii-chan?ö
IlyaÆs life. The fruit of his having cast away his ideals and handed Sakura over.
ôTime to start the ritual, lowlife. Stand back.ö
The boy tensed.
Because he had cast away his ideals, right?
i have no regrets
ôNow, Saber!ö
Wrong.
His Servant charged the King of Heroes head on, brandishing her blade in an arc.
ôWhat!?ö
HeÆd merely compromised them with reality for a minute.
As the King of Heroes scrambled to block, the boy called upon his one talent.
Two blades, one black, one white, appeared in his hands. Silently, he threw one of the blades into the air behind him, knowing what it would do, and followed SaberÆs lead, charging at Gilgamesh.
ôDamnitdamnitdamnitdamnità you treacherousà!ö
The Gate opened behind him, he was going for a sword!
Saber attacked again, trying to stop him.
The boy did the same, following her lead.
But Gilgamesh was the King of Heroes.
He could block one attack.
And he could block a second one.
What he couldnÆt block, however, was the same thing that had got him in this situation û an attack from behind.
There was a scream, and a loud, squelching sound of metal tearing flesh as the sword Bakuya sliced through GilgameshÆs left arm.
An opening.
Yelling in victory, Saber brought down her sword once more.
The King of Heroes was defeated there, cut in half by the King of Knights.
It was over.
this is the only path
ôI did fall in love with you.ö
Her final words before she left him. Perhaps they would meet again. But in the meantime, without herà
He had nothing. No home. No friends. Fuji-nee was gone. And though she did not really appear to begrudge him, he could not bear to look at Sakura in the face anymore.
He also could not take care of Ilya by himself, could not endanger her by taking her with him; but after what she had told him, he would be damned if he was going to return her to her family, monsters that they were.
So he did the best he could: he left her with Rin.
The Tohsaka heir was not too thrilled to see him û sheÆd fought him during the war, Saber had beaten her to the ground, and heÆd almost sacrificed her newfound sister to Gilgamesh. She was a Tohsaka: she had honor, she had pride!
But it was exactly because of that that he came to her one dreary night, holding Ilya while she slept, somehow forcing Tohsaka to speak low enough not to wake her (she didnÆt take too kindly to his having placed his hand over her mouth, but it had to be done).
Tohsaka Rin had honor. She had pride.
And because of that, she could not refuse the kind of request he was making.
She could not refuse Ilya. And thus, she and her sister would take care of her.
And with that, the boy left Fuyuki City. The only thing he had left was his ideal, and he planned to take it with him.
For over a year, he wandered the country. Doing odd-jobs. Helping however was in need of aid. But somehow, he still felt lost. He wanted his previous life. He wanted Saber. He wanted Ilya. But he could have none of those things, he knew.
So he might as well focus on his ideal. But even then, how? How?
And so, he wandered, helping those he could, mourning those heÆd lost.
Until the day he met Urashima Haruka. A sorceress from a very small clan that originated in Tokyo centuries ago. She recognized his name û after winning the war, few magicians would not. And, after some time, she managed to coax him into telling her his situation.
ôYouÆve got very little left, and what you do have you cherish too much to have near you. Therefore, you want an escape. Even if itÆs only for a while. Am I right?ö
It took a while to accept. But it was true.
ôI may have something for you,ö she told him then. Apparently, the Urashima clan was in a tough spot û it needed to fulfill several jobs and ceremonies that required a male heir with magical abilityà a male heir that they did not have. Work for them in those little endeavors, and she, Urashima Haruka, could provide him with a place to escape to in the town where she lived. After all, it would be her honor to host the winner of the Fifth and last Holy Grail War.
ôSo, what do you say to a second chance, Emiya Shirou?ö
my whole life wasà
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Not finished, of course. So... did you like? Was this too much of a rip-off? Should I stop writing at 4:00 AM?
Inspired by exactly two years without an update to this fic, from which the original idea (you'll know what it is) is borrowed.
The title comes from Alice Margatroid's theme, "Plastic Mind", in Touhou 5, a game which, after hearing part of its soundtrack, I have decided to play the first chance I get.
And now:
Plastic Mind
by Kamikaze Wraith
This day of all days.
This date had to come this day of all days.
But then, thatÆs what heÆd thought the previous year, when heÆd just met Haruka. And the one before that, when he was still wandering. Frankly, on this date, no day was ever a good day.
Urashima Keitaro sighed, shifting from the cross-legged position heÆd assumed on the floor as he meditated û an evening ritual to compliment his morning workouts.
And, of course, a required step on those days when he decided to practice that.
Keitaro groaned as he stood up, his legs protesting after having been crossed for longer than an hour. Rolling his shoulders to let loose some tension, he walked across his dark room, skillfully dodging the piles of books and notebooks scattered across the floor without any of his characteristic clumsiness, stopping only as he came face to face with a small mirror heÆd hung on the wall the day before, as a small measure of preparation. Not bothering to turn on the lights, ûhis eyes had long since adjusted to the darkness of the room- he regarded his own reflection with a critical eye. Thin face, pale skin, brown eyes framed by glasses and a mop of untidy black hair. His body, too, looked as it always did: skinny with a side of lanky.
The glamour was holding up, it seemed.
Not that he expected anything else û short of any sorcery somehow nullifying it directly, it would hold up at least three days past this date. A non-issue, considering he was going to have it recharged tonight.
Still, he couldnÆt help but admire such a skillful work û glamour charms were difficult, and not at all something he could have done himself, who only had one talent at his disposal. A charm that lasted for over a year before it needed to be re-charged was completely beyond him.
æHaruka is truly admirable, in this regard,Æ Keitaro thought to himself. Despite the sadness this date usually brought him, perhaps heÆd at least be able to enjoy one of the few times he was able to talk to her freely.
Sighing, Keitaro withdrew his gaze from the mirror, eyes shifting to the alarm clock that rested on his bedside table. It would still be at least half an hour until dinner.
Enough to practice his one talent. It had been over a week already û despite his ability to consistently stick to his other routines, for some reason this placid life was causing him to become a slacker in regards to his only unique ability. A dangerous thing, since he couldnÆt afford to lose the proficiency heÆd shed so much blood for. Silently, he promised to himself that heÆd correct such laziness.
And besides, even if he for some reason hadnÆt felt committed to do it on other days, on this date, on this day of all days, there was no way he could not do it.
He owed it to himself, to everyone, to his ideal, to practice this talent at least on this date.
Taking a deep breath, Keitaro again sat cross-legged on the floor, and closed his eyes, concentrating. This process usually took mere seconds now, but when he practiced like this, he liked to take it slow.
Achingly, bit-by-bit, he began to imagine the sword.
The image came in just as slowly, but it was, as always, there û a sharp edge of steel polished to such brightness it might as well be silver, a crossguard of gold and jewels, with a golden grip crowned by a sapphire.
It reminded him of the beautiful girl with green eyes, and of the terrible battle that was her life.
And it reminded him of his own fight as well. The fight to keep his ideal. The battle against himself.
It reminded of everyone, really. All those people who, for some reason or another, he was sure he would never see again.
Rin, Sakura, Fuji-neeà
àSaber.
Ilya.
This sword embodied his battle û it was not, like his other two weapons of choice, made for the sake of being made. Unlike those other swords, its beauty lay on something different.
An ideal.
And despite that, despite the fact that it was based on an abstract concept, the Sword in the Stone, Caliburn, retained its power and beauty.
And it did so because the ideal behind it was beautiful. Peace and prosperity, the promise of a Utopia, were beautiful.
It comforted him to know that, because it told him that if his own ideal was beautiful enough, then it did not matter if it was unachievable. As long as he struggled to keep it as a close to a reality as he could, the sword that was himself would forever stay sharp.
Opening his mouth, he whispered the magic words.
ôTrace, on.ö
At that moment, the sword came to life in his mind, and the fake identity that was ôUrashima Keitaroö was washed away.
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i am the bone of my sword
He knew where it was that it all went wrong.
He shouldnÆt have been so mistrustful, shouldnÆt have refused TohsakaÆs help when she offered her alliance.
But he did. Like an arrogant fool, he did.
Still, Saber and himself did their best. And they survived through the early days of the Holy Grail War. Against all odds, they survived.
But then came the turning point. Matou Sakura, his junior, who had been steadily growing weaker, finally came down with a strong fever, almost collapsing while preparing dinner. Dutifully, he laid her to rest on the guest room, worrying.
The thing that awoke on her bed next morning was the most horrifying creature he had ever laid eyes upon. After a short confrontation ended via a forced command spell, Saber and himself barely escaped with their lives, leaving the monster to destroy the house in a large conflagration.
Fuji-nee wasnÆt so lucky.
Her final scream was to this day burnt into his mind.
steel is my body
and fire is my blood
Taken by surprise, with no one to aid them, they had only one place to go. It was dangerous, but taking the risk was better than the mortal danger that was standing around, waiting for Sakura to hunt them down.
So they marched off to Castle Einzbern.
To Ilyasviel. And Berserker.
They ran through the streets, and then into the dark forest, and out of desperation burst inside the castle hall when their calls were not answered.
What greeted them there was a scene of destruction. A man clad in brilliant gold stood at the top of the main staircase, countless Noble Phantasms floating behind him. Berserker lay kneeling, chained and utterly defeated, in front of him. He was already fading away.
Nodding in self-satisfaction the man turned his gaze towards a terrified Ilya.
ôI only need your heart. The rest of you can vanish.ö
A single Noble Phantasm flew out.
His heart stopped.
He couldnÆt let it happen.
Everything he believed in was worthless if he let it happen.
He was not going to let it happen.
He jumped.
i have created
over one thousand blades
It was unbelievable.
It happened, of course, but it was unbelievable.
He saved her, knocking her down at the last minute, pressing her tiny, warm body against his own.
He saved her, but he wasnÆt fast enough to stop her from being wounded.
Though it missed the killing blow, the Noble Phantasm cut open a gash in her side, blood spurting everywhere. The girl screamed in pain and abject misery.
Meanwhile, the man in gold laughed like a madman, and, shrugging, pointed another Noble Phantasm at the two.
At that moment, however, Saber stepped in, brandishing her blade, and he stopped.
ôSaber.ö
ôArcher.ö
ôNot Archer. Gilgamesh, King of Heroes!ö
As the two Servants bantered, however, he noticed IlyaÆs breathing start to become erratic. As he did, she looked up at him, tears running down her cheeks, and mouthed a ôthank youö.
She was bleeding to death.
She was bleeding to death, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
Nothingà unless.
He looked at the golden Servant, who possessed all the worldÆs Noble Phantasms in his treasury.
Calmly, he placed Ilya gently on the floor, got up, and walked in front of him, ignoring SaberÆs protests.
The golden Servant laughed at his bravado, but magnanimously asked what a lowlife such as him could possibly want.
ôTo negotiate,ö he responded.
And then he told him about Sakura, about what she had become, about how she was strong enough to swat Saber around like a fly.
He told him that they could ally to stop her. In return for one thingà
unaware of loss
nor aware of gain
àhealing Ilya. Clearly, someone with as many treasures as him would possess a potion that could heal her wounds. ThatÆs all he asked, in exchanged for his help.
The Servant laughed like a madman, mocking him at length. That he was a lowlife, a fool. That he, Gilgamesh, could deal with a nuisance like Sakura on his own, and that, besides, he needed IlyaÆs heart to be the core of the Holy Grail.
That was it.
He had known the Servant would say that.
That meant there was one option left for himà but his ideal could not stretch to that point.
He took at Ilya, her breathing ragged and sallow, her blood decorating the floor.
It didnÆt matter how far his ideal went.
He cast his last dice.
ôI can get you a better core.ö
ôOh?ö
ôThis Sakura girl comes from a mage family, and after whatever happened to her, she is impossibly strong. She fulfills all the requirements, doesnÆt she? Besidesà IÆve got a connection with her. She might hesitate enough to help subjugate her.ö
He couldnÆt believe what he was saying, but he couldnÆt let Ilya die.
Letting her die would be betraying her gratitude for trying to save her. And letting her die would be betraying his own ideal.
To avoid this, he cast his ideal away.
The golden Servant burst into mad laughter, pointing at him as if he were some sort of circus attraction.
He was amusing, he told him. Incredibly amusing for a lowlife. And even though he was certain that he didnÆt need him, that he could just take IlyaÆs heart as the coreà
ôàalright, lowlife.ö
It made taking Saber easier in the long run, at any rate, and it would amuse him for a while.
Reaching into the Gate, he withdrew a small phial, which he tossed to the boy.
He caught it deftly.
ôThat should be enough to keep her alive for now,ö the golden Servant said, ôbut only my eternity potion could cure her. And IÆll want the core delivered before I give it to you.ö
The boy nodded, and gave Ilya the contents of the phial.
Life returned to her, miraculously returning part of her strength and closing her large wound into a much smaller gash.
ôCare though, the effect wonÆt last forever.ö
The King of Heroes then turned around and began walking away.
ôMeet me at the temple. If this woman is anything like what you say she is, everything is already being decided there.ö
have withstood pain
to create many weapons
After a while, he and Saber followed him, the boy cradling a weak Ilya in his arms.
ôYou saved me, onii-chan,ö she said.
And as they trudged through the forest, she spilled her heart out to him.
Who her father was.
Who she herself was.
Why had she had been looking for him.
And he knew, at that moment, that he could not fail in this task.
He could never fail her. Not the way he had failed Sakura. Not the way he had failed Fuji-nee.
waiting for oneÆs arrival
When they arrived at the temple, everything was in chaos.
Gilgamesh was nowhere to be seen. Caster, RyuudojiÆs only known resident, had apparently already been dispatched. For some unfathomable reason, the dissecated corpse of Matou Shinji greeted them at the base of the entrance stairs.
In the center of the templeÆs courtyard, a large battle still raged. On one side was Sakura.
On the other was Tohsaka and her Servant, Archer, and a decrepit old man commanding a skeletical black Servant. They didnÆt look like they trusted each other, but had apparently been forced to band together to combat the threat.
Leaving Ilya to rest on a far flung wall, Shirou and Saber charged into the fray, and then, at that momentà
àthe world changed.
Suddenly, they were not facing Sakura in Ryuudoji, but in a flat, red plain with no sky, for the entire sky was obscured by swords.
Endless swords floating above them with more being pulled out of the ground by the second.
This was ArcherÆs doing.
And yetà to the boy, this was beautiful.
Tohsaka gave the command, and the swords descended. They tore through Sakura, but also, in a clever feat of treachery, through the old man and the black Servant, killing the last two almost instantly. But not beforeà
ôZabaniya!ö
ôUngh!ö
The red world shattered.
Archer was wounded. He would fade soon. But he had done enough. In the opening he createdà
ôTake this!ö
A dozen jewels smashed against Sakura in a flash of light.
She was done. That energy, combined with the thousands of swords that had impaled her before, put Sakura instantly out of commission. She fell, unconscious, towards the floor, only to be caught and, in a complete surprise, embraced by Rin.
Meanwhile, the boy and Saber approached. Archer turned to look at them. He was already fading into sparks.
ôRin,ö Archer said. Tohsaka looked up, eyeing Saber in surprise.
ôThereÆs still one Servant left, Rin. Tch, looks like this idiotÆs going to be the one to take care of it. What a damn shame.ö
And Archer faded away, cynical ætill the end.
As Shirou opened his mouth to speak û
ôTsk, lowlife! You barely even fought!ö
Gilgamesh, walking towards them.
ôBut whatever. You begged for the potion. Now give me the girl, mongrel.ö
RinÆs eyes widened.
ôYou couldnÆt possibly-ô
ôKnock her out, Saber.ö
The Servant moved faster than lightning, and punched Rin in the skull. The girl dropped like a sack full of rocks.
ôGet Ilya.ö
Saber nodded, though with some reluctance. This kind of maneuvering was against her creed. She rushed to the temple entrance, and brought Ilya back in a flash.
Gilgamesh seemed to find it all positively hilarious.
ôThe girl before the potion, mongrel, before I change my mind.ö
The boy nodded, disgusted, but with some effort, he carried Sakura to Gilgamesh and placed her at his feet.
ôAlright then. Be grateful, mongrel.ö
He reached into the Gate, and handed him a vial of a pink liquid. Shirou fed it to Ilya.
The effect was instantaneous. IlyaÆs weakness vanished, her wound closed completely, and color returned to her face.
She opened her eyes blearily, staring in complete amazement.
ôOnii-chan?ö
IlyaÆs life. The fruit of his having cast away his ideals and handed Sakura over.
ôTime to start the ritual, lowlife. Stand back.ö
The boy tensed.
Because he had cast away his ideals, right?
i have no regrets
ôNow, Saber!ö
Wrong.
His Servant charged the King of Heroes head on, brandishing her blade in an arc.
ôWhat!?ö
HeÆd merely compromised them with reality for a minute.
As the King of Heroes scrambled to block, the boy called upon his one talent.
Two blades, one black, one white, appeared in his hands. Silently, he threw one of the blades into the air behind him, knowing what it would do, and followed SaberÆs lead, charging at Gilgamesh.
ôDamnitdamnitdamnitdamnità you treacherousà!ö
The Gate opened behind him, he was going for a sword!
Saber attacked again, trying to stop him.
The boy did the same, following her lead.
But Gilgamesh was the King of Heroes.
He could block one attack.
And he could block a second one.
What he couldnÆt block, however, was the same thing that had got him in this situation û an attack from behind.
There was a scream, and a loud, squelching sound of metal tearing flesh as the sword Bakuya sliced through GilgameshÆs left arm.
An opening.
Yelling in victory, Saber brought down her sword once more.
The King of Heroes was defeated there, cut in half by the King of Knights.
It was over.
this is the only path
ôI did fall in love with you.ö
Her final words before she left him. Perhaps they would meet again. But in the meantime, without herà
He had nothing. No home. No friends. Fuji-nee was gone. And though she did not really appear to begrudge him, he could not bear to look at Sakura in the face anymore.
He also could not take care of Ilya by himself, could not endanger her by taking her with him; but after what she had told him, he would be damned if he was going to return her to her family, monsters that they were.
So he did the best he could: he left her with Rin.
The Tohsaka heir was not too thrilled to see him û sheÆd fought him during the war, Saber had beaten her to the ground, and heÆd almost sacrificed her newfound sister to Gilgamesh. She was a Tohsaka: she had honor, she had pride!
But it was exactly because of that that he came to her one dreary night, holding Ilya while she slept, somehow forcing Tohsaka to speak low enough not to wake her (she didnÆt take too kindly to his having placed his hand over her mouth, but it had to be done).
Tohsaka Rin had honor. She had pride.
And because of that, she could not refuse the kind of request he was making.
She could not refuse Ilya. And thus, she and her sister would take care of her.
And with that, the boy left Fuyuki City. The only thing he had left was his ideal, and he planned to take it with him.
For over a year, he wandered the country. Doing odd-jobs. Helping however was in need of aid. But somehow, he still felt lost. He wanted his previous life. He wanted Saber. He wanted Ilya. But he could have none of those things, he knew.
So he might as well focus on his ideal. But even then, how? How?
And so, he wandered, helping those he could, mourning those heÆd lost.
Until the day he met Urashima Haruka. A sorceress from a very small clan that originated in Tokyo centuries ago. She recognized his name û after winning the war, few magicians would not. And, after some time, she managed to coax him into telling her his situation.
ôYouÆve got very little left, and what you do have you cherish too much to have near you. Therefore, you want an escape. Even if itÆs only for a while. Am I right?ö
It took a while to accept. But it was true.
ôI may have something for you,ö she told him then. Apparently, the Urashima clan was in a tough spot û it needed to fulfill several jobs and ceremonies that required a male heir with magical abilityà a male heir that they did not have. Work for them in those little endeavors, and she, Urashima Haruka, could provide him with a place to escape to in the town where she lived. After all, it would be her honor to host the winner of the Fifth and last Holy Grail War.
ôSo, what do you say to a second chance, Emiya Shirou?ö
my whole life wasà
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Not finished, of course. So... did you like? Was this too much of a rip-off? Should I stop writing at 4:00 AM?