Location: Pennsylvania. It's sort of like a real state.
Age: 39
Heh... I don't know if I should be happy that I seem to have brought the FSN fanfic thread back to life, or worried that I seem to have turned it into a hotbed of controversy over a plot point that hasn't actually happened yet...
Heh... I don't know if I should be happy that I seem to have brought the FSN fanfic thread back to life, or worried that I seem to have turned it into a hotbed of controversy over a plot point that hasn't actually happened yet...
I'd consider it an accomplishment, myself. It means people are really interested in the plot points of your fic!
So, here we go with chapter 3: the chapter that fought me the whole way, takes a huge step away from HF canon, and is perhaps the one chapter I feel the most nervous about posting. With that said, here we go!
Spoiler for Into The Rain: The Situation of Matou Sakura:
Chapter 3: The Situation of Matou Sakura
Matou Zouken was annoyed.
Many people who didn’t know him would believe this to be an understatement. His plan had just gone wrong in the one way he had never imagined. He had depended heavily on the fact that Emiya would find his granddaughter, and bring her back to his home. He had set everything on that bond forming and deepening between them. His final steps depended on using the boy to break Sakura, to give her the last push that she had stubbornly resisted for eleven years.
And instead, his plan had changed in a way he couldn’t begin to comprehend. Instead of the boy, Sakura had been found by her sister. In the rain, instead of an embrace and a vow, there had been harsh words and a decision to follow the girl who hadn’t killed her. The daughter of Tohsaka had thrown his plan into insanity with her usual flair and sense, and had taken Sakura under her wing.
His plan was going wrong in the one way he had never counted on, but to be honest… he was, in fact, only mildly annoyed by it.
“Shall I kill her?” True Assassin’s voice rumbled at his back; Zouken didn’t even bother to look at his Servant as he skulked behind him. “It could possibly drive her even further into that boy’s arms.”
It was true. Zouken knew it was true. Sakura may have been unaware of Rin’s affections, but time hadn’t dulled the love and admiration she still felt for her older sister. If anything, killing her now, when the girl was only getting a hint of her sister’s love, could break her even more than Emiya or Shinji.
But even that death, as brutal and bloody as it could be, wouldn’t do the best job.
“Leave her be,” he ordered. “I’m curious to see how this plays out.”
Assassin was silent; he may have disagreed, but he didn’t say it. He had learned long ago that when it came to plans, his Master made traps within traps. It was both terrifying and awe inspiring, at times.
No, this wasn’t according to his plan at all… but depending on what kind of bond formed between the girls, it could still work. Zouken would just need to monitor it closely.
…
Besides, as much as he hated to admit it, his strongest trump card (not counting Sakura when she finally broke) wasn’t quite ready for use yet.
Saber Alter sighed. She had only existed for several days, starting when the original Servant Saber had been absorbed and corrupted from the inside out by the shadow. In her short time of existence, she had decided that while she didn’t care much about anything, she didn’t mind living. Having nothing to do but stare at the writhing worms was somewhat boring, but she didn’t mind it. Her Master still hadn’t called for her yet to battle, but like most other things, she didn’t mind it.
There was one thing, however, she was quickly learning that she minded.
“You realize, I know you can hear me. It really annoys me when you act like you don’t.”
And here was the thing Alter was quickly learning she could actually hate.
Somehow, in some way, the corruption had been incomplete. Zouken didn’t know how it had gone wrong, or why; the simple fact was, it hadn’t been as thorough as he had originally thought. While Saber had certainly been corrupted and Alter had been established as the primary and dominant personality, the force of it hadn’t been enough to destroy the King of Knights completely. Somehow, she had stubbornly clung to enough consciousness to quickly and immediately establish herself in the corner of Alter’s mind, an annoyingly clear and calm voice that made the black Servant growl.
It was annoying, but so far it didn’t seem to jeopardize any of Zouken’s plans; if anything, Saber still existing had been an unexpected loophole. While she could make her presence known to Alter, she didn’t have enough strength to completely regain control of her body, or fight back against the corruption. For the time being, she was no threat in her current state.
“Did it ever cross your mind that I ignore you because I dislike you, too?” Alter finally asked, her voice filling the empty room. She didn’t mind it; it wasn’t like anyone could see or hear her anyway, and even if they did, she hardly cared about their opinion of her.
“Well, it’s nice to confirm that I’m not alone in my dislike of you.”
“I said I dislike you,” Alter muttered back, rubbing her temples. “Not that I dislike myself.”
“Oh. I stand corrected, then.”
…
Yes, Alter could quickly learn to hate Saber.
“Were you always this snarky?” The black Servant had the vague feeling of a headache. “I can’t recall you ever being that way, even after death. Or did you just hide it very well?”
There was a moment of silence in her head, and just when she was beginning to hope that maybe the former Servant would stay quiet… “You could say I’m vaguely annoyed about being a prisoner in my own body.”
“Only vaguely?”
“Vaguely. Just barely, really.”
Alter sighed. She knew she wasn’t making things any easier for herself by speaking to the silver knight, but then again, it was hard to ignore her when she spoke right in her own head. Which in and of itself would be easy enough to accomplish, if Saber didn’t feel the need to constantly remind her of her presence every few minutes.
“You realize, even if you continue to speak with me, you’ll never regain control of your body, right?”
“Who said anything about getting my body back? I’m just doing this to annoy you.”
...
Oh, yes. Alter could very, very quickly learn to hate Saber.
Sakura rose early out of habit, though she knew she had no reason to; through the heavy drapes of the windows, she could see the faint traces of sunlight. She took time to make her bed, smoothing the sheets out with her fingers before she stepped back, looking around the room blankly for a moment. She was surprised to hear no sounds of movement or life in the house; was Rin still asleep? It was certainly early, she knew that much, but the sun was already out and shining so brightly.
Though honestly, when Sakura thought about it, it made sense that Rin could still be sleeping. The older girl was an active Master in the War, and now that the situation had unfolded this way, she probably no longer saw a reason to wake up for school.
“I guess I could get started on breakfast, then, if she’s still asleep…”
Old habits died hard it seemed, even under the most extreme conditions. Sakura knew there was no reason for her to make breakfast, especially right now, but there was something soothing about the familiar habit.
Sometime during the night, Rin must have come back in and left her sister’s dry clothes on the dresser by the door; either she’d been very quiet, or Sakura had just been that tired. Grateful either way, the purple-haired girl pulled on the familiar school uniform before heading out the door, down the hallway and stairs, and into the kitchen.
The kitchen, like much of the old Tohsaka mansion, had changed only slightly from Sakura’s memories. Some of the appliances had been replaced with more modern ones, and the wallpaper had been switched, and at some point Rin had seen fit to change the pattern of the tiled floor. Only taking brief note of it, Sakura immediately started rummaging through the cabinets and poking through the fridge; she would have been more reserved had Rin been accompanying her, but the black-haired magus was still asleep, and…. Well, this was her home. Or had been. And it wasn’t like Rin had made it explicitly clear that she was unwanted.
Tugging some ingredients loose from the fridge and retrieving plates, Sakura set to work making a light, easy breakfast; nothing fancy, just some toast and eggs. It was simple, but it would still taste good, provided Rin wasn’t picky. Getting lost in the familiar flow of cooking, even if it took her a minute or two to adjust to the kitchen set-up, Sakura was soon humming softly and completely lost in her own little world, working with only half a mind really. She still managed to glimpse the blur of red out of the corner of her eye, however, and glanced up with a small, shy smile. “Good morning, Nee-san.”
Looking frazzled and still only half asleep, Rin nodded absently in response to her sister’s smile. “G’morning, Sakura,” she murmured, practically staggering towards the fridge like some kind of possessed person. Figuring her sister wanted a drink, Sakura easily retrieved a glass and offered it to Rin.
And stared blankly when Rin completely ignored the offering, instead opening the milk carton and gulping from it directly like a person dying of thirst. Not small, steady swallows, either; she drank in one long, single gulp that made Sakura wonder how she didn’t choke. After a minute, the milk seemed to have its intended effect as Rin lowered the carton, looking at least a little more awake compared to before. Noticing her sister’s stare, she shrugged. “I’m not a morning person.”
“R-right.” Deciding not to comment, Sakura hastily set the glass back in its place, wondering how many hearts would break if anyone knew what the school idol was like in the privacy of her own home in the morning. Keeping her mouth firmly shut, she set back to work with breakfast. Refreshed by the milk, Rin wandered over and, without a single word, leaned up over Sakura, pressing against her lightly as she fished around for a teacup, now ready for her ritual.
Sakura froze; her mouth went dry as her brain fuzzed out. Rin was soft against her, and warm, and this close together her scent invaded every one of the younger girl’s senses. She wondered for a crazy moment if her heart had stopped beating. Since Rin seemed largely unaffected by it, Sakura resolved to act the same, as if this was something that happened for them every morning. She breathed a small, inaudible sigh of relief when Rin pulled back, cup in hand.
Pausing for a moment, Rin took a slight sniff. “You made breakfast?”
“Um, yes.” Sakura didn’t try to explain why; she honestly had no clue why she’d done it either.
Another moment passed before Rin took another sniff, as if checking to confirm the scent was still there. “It smells good,” she said at last. With that, she got started on brewing her favorite brand of tea, once again acting as if this was a perfectly normal routine that they had been doing all their lives.
Unable to repress the small, delighted smile at her sister’s praise, Sakura went back to work with breakfast and couldn’t help but wonder, in the back of her mind, what it would have been like to share these kind of moments with Rin while they had been growing up.
It had taken all of Shirou’s resolve to not sprint from his house to Rin’s mansion, even though his muscles had practically screamed for him to do so the moment he woke up. Short of attacking his wild mop of hair with a comb, he’d done everything he could think of to make himself look presentable before starting off on the path that led to the old Western style homes. He knew it might have been a bit much, but he couldn’t help it. This would be the first time he had seen Sakura since the incident at school… not to mention the first time seeing Rin after she had run from the church.
So he walked calmly, trying to keep his mind clear and his heart from pounding right out of his chest. So busy was he trying to keep himself from panicking that he didn’t even remember reaching Rin’s door, or lifting his hand to knock. He only came back to himself when the door opened and he found himself looking into a pair of light blue eyes.
“Ah, good morning, Emiya-kun.” Rin smiled. “I was wondering if you would show up. You’re a little late.” She paused for a moment, thinking. “Or maybe Sakura just made breakfast early.”
At the mention of Sakura, Shirou’s heart leaped into his throat. “Is she—“
Rin held up a hand to silence him. Swallowing his words, Shirou nodded and followed her into the house. He knew he was being stupidly worried over his underclassman’s wellbeing, especially when Archer had already told him she was fine, but he couldn’t help it. He could still remember how she had screamed before he had collapsed, and he still had something important to tell her, something he hadn’t been able to tell her last night.
“Hey, Sakura,” Rin called, gesturing to Shirou as she entered the kitchen. “You have a visitor.”
Nearly finished setting the table, the purple-haired girl glanced up curiously; a moment later, her eyes lit up. Somehow she managed to restrain herself from right out tackling the young man, smiling happily as her eyes shone. “Good morning, Senpai.”
Shirou had to force himself not to practically leap across the room and crush her to him, so relieved was he to see that she was perfectly fine, even happy. He smiled, and barely managed to keep it from becoming a grin. “G-good morning, Sakura.”
Rin looked between the two, as if she was expecting more to happen; when nothing else happened and they both just stood there looking at each other, she sighed softly and shook her head, going into the kitchen to grab the last plates of food and set them down on the table. “If you two are done making goo-goo eyes at each other,” and now she smirked as both Shirou and Sakura blushed, “breakfast is finished, and we still have some things to settle after last night.”
“R-right.” Shirou felt as if his IQ had dropped; when had he suddenly become so nervous? Gulping slightly, he sat down at the table, watching as Sakura poured tea for all of them and set them on the table before she joined them. Rin was the last to come, folding her legs gracefully and sitting without even managing to flash him.
For the first few minutes, breakfast was a strange, silent affair; it was as if none of them dared to talk, but it wasn’t awkward. In fact, it was almost, in a strange kind of way… peaceful, really. The soft sound of utensils and eating, the occasional sips from their cups. It should have been awkward, especially considering the situation, but somehow it wasn’t. Honestly, Shirou didn’t want it to end.
Eventually, though, it did end; and once again, Rin was the one who took the first step. Setting down her cup with a soft clink, she glanced at Shirou. “The first thing I’m going to say before you ask is, I have no intention of killing Sakura at this point. I just want to make that clear between us.”
Shirou sighed, lowering his chopsticks. “I kind of figured that out,” he muttered, glancing at Sakura guiltily; he understood why they had to settle that matter, but he hated that they were doing it right in front of the girl in question. “You could have killed her last night if you wanted to, Tohsaka, and I couldn’t have stopped you.”
Sakura had nothing to add to this exchange; she knew it was the truth, just as well as Shirou did. For all of her kindness last night, Rin had had her sister in the perfect situation if she’d changed her mind and decided to kill her. The fact that she’d instead let her sleep through the night spoke volumes about her intentions towards the younger girl.
Of course, if she had come to kill me, I don’t think I would have stopped her, anyway.
“So, Tohsaka… does that mean you’re after the Holy Grail for a different reason now?”
And Shirou asked the one question that could make or break the whole situation.
It was no secret. The obvious fact was, if Sakura was going to be saved, they needed to use the Holy Grail to do it. Which meant that, in order for Sakura to be saved at all, Rin would need to adjust whatever her original wish for the Grail had been if she was truly serious about letting the younger girl live. Shirou was quite all right with the idea of fighting alone, but he knew things would be harder that way, and in his short time with her, Rin had proven to be a valuable ally.
Rin took a moment to answer, lifting her cup to her lips and taking a long sip of the warm liquid; she could feel them both staring at her, Shirou’s gaze determined, Sakura’s uncertain. At her back, she could feel Archer’s presence, a presence that would obey her and follow her even if he didn’t agree with the path she chose. Finally, she lowered her cup. “I never had a wish for the Grail to begin with,” she admitted calmly. “Changing my goal isn’t too hard when I never had one I was aiming for.”
Shirou’s eyes widened; for a moment, he forgot to breathe. “Then that means—“
“I’ll be joining the Saving Sakura Squad.” She’d pretty much joined last night. She glanced at Sakura, smirking. “If you don’t mind having me along, Sakura.”
Sakura squeaked and blushed, hastily shaking her head. “N-no! I-I’m glad you’re on our side, Nee-san!”
Once again, for a moment, silence fell over the three as they continued to eat; this seemed to be a regular thing for them. Finally, though, Shirou couldn’t take it anymore. “Then about today, Tohsaka.”
Rin blinked. “What about today, Emiya-kun?”
“Well…” Honestly, he didn’t know. Shirou hadn’t really thought much last night, really; the moment he had known Sakura was safe, he had gone home and collapsed on his futon, passing out. He’d been so worried this morning about meeting the sisters that he hadn’t even considered anything on his way over.
As if sensing this, Rin seemed to consider something for a moment before she spoke. “Actually, Emiya-kun, I think it might help today if we relaxed a bit. We need time to plan, and to recover a little from what we learned last night. We won’t be of any help to Sakura if we rush into battle with no idea of what we want to do.”
“Nee-san’s right.” Sakura spoke up, seeing the argument coming into Shirou’s eyes. “We…. we didn’t really make any plans last night, either, and there’s no rush.” She squirmed slightly in place, looking down. “Grandfather won’t be making his move yet, so it won’t be bad if we rest for today.”
At the mention of Zouken, all argument drained out of Shirou. Even Rin went deathly quiet, doing something with her hands so she wouldn’t think about strangling the old man. They’d almost forgotten, in the peaceful morning, what effect the old man still had on the girl sitting with them. Finally, Shirou took a deep breath and nodded. “That makes sense,” he said. “There’s never any harm in resting when you can.”
Pleased that he understood, Rin nodded; and for the final time of the morning, the three of them resumed eating. During that time, neither of them dared to speak, almost as if they were afraid that the moment they did, the illusion of peace would shatter.
Finally, though, it had to end. With a soft “Thank you for the meal” Shirou got to his feet, brushing his pants. He looked almost guilty as Rin began to clear off the table. “Um, do you need help with that?”
Rin laughed. “It’s more than I’m used to, but no big deal. Thanks for the offer, Emiya-kun.” For some reason, her laugh made the boy blush bright red and look away, coughing. Smirking, the girl got to her feet and carried the dishes into the kitchen. Unsure of what to do with himself, Shirou nodded and shifted from foot to foot, clearing his throat. Sakura glanced up at him, standing as well.
“So, um… you coming, Sakura?”
Not even paying attention to what was happening between the boy and her sister, Rin came back and grabbed the cups, turning on the sink water and beginning to wash the dirty utensils. Sakura hesitated, looked down, and gripped her skirt tightly, her hair hiding her eyes. “Actually, Senpai… um, I want to stay with Nee-san.”
Rin was grateful that she’d thought to put a towel on the floor before beginning to wash the dishes; that way, when her hands froze, the plate she’d been cleaning didn’t break when it hit the floor. Just as surprised by the decision as she was, Shirou stared at the younger girl.
Sakura squirmed, lifting her eyes; nervous but determined purple met confused gold. “I have nothing against you, Senpai, really! You… I was happy being with you, and living in your house was wonderful.” She blushed a little, but plunged on. “But… I always dreamed about living with Nee-san. This might be… it might be the only chance I have.”
Shirou opened his mouth, then closed it; he hated that he couldn’t argue with that logic. How could he deny Sakura the right to live with her sister, even if only for a short while? After a moment, he inhaled deeply. “Is that all right with you, Tohsaka?”
Rin poked her head back into the kitchen; if she was still surprised, she hid it well. “I don’t have a problem with it, if it’s what Sakura wants.”
With that, it seemed settled. There was no reason for Shirou to push if Sakura wanted to stay and Rin was okay with her staying. He exhaled, then forced a smile. “I don’t see a problem with it, then,” he managed, hoping that Sakura wouldn’t push him too much. If she did, he didn’t know what he’d do.
And he decided to keep the words he had meant to say to himself.
Shirou didn’t exactly understand why, when it was all said and done, Sakura had insisted that Rider walk him home. It was broad daylight, and he had lost both Saber and his Command Spells; it was highly doubtful that anyone still involved in the War saw him as a threat. Regardless, he hadn’t had the energy to turn her down, and it wasn’t like he was bothered by Rider’s presence as he walked back home.
Her presence was, needless to say, different from any other Servant he had encountered before. Saber had never been able to take a spirit form, but Shirou had known her presence like the back of his hand; the light press of the wind, warmth, a calm entity that couldn’t be shaken. Berserker had been overwhelming, crushing, almost like a mountain; in his presence, Shirou couldn’t breathe. Archer had only been around the boy a few times, but in that time he had felt both deep self-hatred and guilt, and a drive for something beyond the war; he had seen a back that refused to break.
Rider’s presence was different. Around her, Shirou could smell blood and even, in some weird way, feel blood, if that made any sense; whenever Rider was around, he couldn’t ignore the feeling that death was walking beside him. And yet, he felt no hostile intention from her, no wish to kill. It was…. strangely comforting. Kind of like the monster that hid under your bed, but had no intention of actually hurting you.
Reaching his door, Shirou paused and looked into the space where he assumed Rider was. “Thanks for walking me home, Rider. You can go back to Sakura now.” He gave a small smile to show his thanks, even as the mention of the woman’s Master sent a small shockwave of pain through his chest.
He couldn’t see her, but Rider must have noticed something in his eyes, his face, that gave him away; she cleared her throat softly. “Do you have a message you want me to deliver to her? It wouldn’t be too much trouble.”
Shirou was quiet for a moment; then, he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and let it go.
“Thanks, but it’s fine.” He opened his eyes and smiled tiredly. “It’s not something she needs to know.”
By the time afternoon rolled around, Rin was certain that if Sakura stayed in the house any longer, she would end up spoiled rotten. The younger girl truly had a flair for cooking; not to say that Rin’s cooking was bad, but she always enjoyed good food when she could get it, especially when she didn’t have to make it herself. Still, she figured she did her part by volunteering to help clean up, even if Sakura had weakly protested at first before letting her help.
Honestly, the older magus was surprised by how quickly she had adjusted to and accepted Sakura’s presence. She was hardly the anti-social type, but her way of life often made her keep a measured distance from others; it didn’t help that the mansion itself was designed as one huge KEEP OUT to anyone who got too close. However, Sakura had effortlessly molded herself into the house with absolutely no effort, easily accepted as if she had never left.
“You know, this means that I have to cook dinner tonight, right? At this rate I’ll be sitting here doing nothing,” Rin joked, pleased when Sakura blushed brightly and ducked her head. The sisters were almost done washing the dishes, up to their elbows in the soapy water, and Rin had to admit: there was something strangely soothing about the mundane chore.
“You don’t have to make dinner if you don’t want to, you know,” Sakura murmured, glancing at her older sister out of the corner of her eye.
Rin lifted a soapy hand from the water, waving it lightly in the universal “whatever” gesture. “Really, I don’t mind. Cooking can be a fun way of stimulating the mind.” Finished with her half of the dishes, the heir of Tohsaka pulled her hands out of the sink water and grabbed a towel, drying off her hands, her back to Sakura.
She heard it instead of seeing it happen; the soft, sharp intake of breath, the slight stagger of feet. In the instant she understood what it meant, she had already turned. “Sakura!”
She managed to catch the younger girl before she fell completely, keeping her from banging her head on the counter or the floor. Sakura’s face was bright red, her breathing weak and ragged. Rin felt that if she touched the purple-haired girl, her hand would burst into flames. Without even realizing it, her grip on her sister tightened. “Sakura. Hey, Sakura! What’s wrong?”
“Nee… san?” Sounding as if even breathing was painful, Sakura slowly opened her eyes, blinking groggily; dazed, cloudy purple eyes met concerned, almost frightened light blue. “Why… are you shouting? I’m fine…”
“Last I checked, collapsing wasn’t part of feeling fine.” Rin pressed a hand to Sakura’s forehead and frowned; the girl had no fever, so why was she so red in the face and so weak? Unless this was a result of her outpour of mana at school when Shinji had used her as bait to lure Shirou?
“Really… it’s nothing to worry about.” Grimacing a little, Sakura squirmed in Rin’s arms, trying to get free and stand up; but it seemed she didn’t even have the strength for that, despite trying her hardest. Shaking her head at this, Rin took matters into her own hands when she shifted and stood up, lifting Sakura into her arms and making the younger girl squeal, instinctively latching onto her neck. “Nee-san?!”
Ignoring Sakura’s surprise, Rin moved quickly, carrying Sakura as if she was nothing at all; the older girl wasn’t as strong as Shirou in terms of physical strength, but she was still a little above average for her age thanks to training. She barely broke a sweat going back upstairs and into Sakura’s room, setting the girl down in bed. “You’re resting,” Rin said calmly. “I’m not hearing any complaints.”
“But—“
“Not. Hearing. Complaints.” Rin didn’t know what was wrong (or she had some idea, but she wasn’t sure), and she knew that making Sakura rest would probably solve nothing, but it was easier to keep her in one place instead of letting her wander around the house in her weakened state. “Just stay here, okay? I’m not always going to be around to catch you if you keep falling.”
Sakura either didn’t know what to say, or had no response to the last words Rin had said; either way, she slumped back into the pillows and seemed to accept the fact that once again she was confined to bed rest even though, in her mind, she felt perfectly fine and had no reason for staying still. Content when she heard no opposition against this, Rin pulled away. “Close your eyes and try to sleep a bit,” she said. “I have some stuff to do, so I’ll come check on you later.”
It was, of course, a lie. Rin had nothing to do, really. She just hated seeing her sister so weak, and knowing there was very little she could do about it to fix it.
The problem was, of course, an obvious one; Sakura had lost mana during the fight with Shinji in school, and in over a day, she hadn’t had it replenished. Her body couldn’t afford to lose mana at this rate, and needed to make up for it somehow. It was an obvious problem… and it annoyed the hell out of Rin that when it came to a solution, it had been evading her all day.
Growling softly, the black-haired magus closed her book and leaned back in her chair, pulling off her glasses and rubbing her eyes. The simple fact was, despite Kotomine’s explanation of the Crest Worm, she knew very little—if nothing at all—about Makiri magic. All she really knew was that her sister needed her mana replenished, and she only knew one method of that.
….
Well, there were ways around it, of course. It was late, but she could always call Shirou and ask him to come back, though all things considered that would be rather rude, even if the boy thought she was a demon to begin with. She could possibly put it off until tomorrow and spend the night talking to Shirou and warming him up to the idea; it was no secret to her that the two liked each other, so setting something up wouldn’t be too hard.
The problem was, Sakura needed mana now. She could probably hold out for one more day if she really had no choice, but she was weakening fast. Not to mention that while getting them both together would be easy enough, actually talking them into it could take longer. The essence of it all was time.
Shaking her head, Rin pushed back from her desk and stretched up, absently glancing out her window; it was dark outside, meaning night must have fallen. In the end, neither of them had eaten dinner; Sakura had seemed to be asleep when Rin had checked on her, and Rin had gotten too involved in studying to think about eating, and even now didn’t feel that hungry.
“I guess I’ll check on Sakura before I take a bath…”
Nodding to herself, Rin left her room, pausing for a moment to flick off the light and close the door before she headed down the hallway, pausing at Sakura’s door and knocking gently in case the younger girl was asleep. Hearing vague rustling on the other side, she softly opened the door. “Sakura?” she called. “It’s me. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
“Mmmm….” In the dark room, the only source of light spilled in from the hallway. Rin could make her sister out, buried beneath a mountain of blankets it seemed, and stepped farther into the darkness, moving lightly on her feet. Sakura stirred and shifted again, murmuring something sleepily and seeming to moan, unable to get comfortable for some reason.
A little concerned, Rin ventured further into the room, tentatively leaning down and resting a hand on Sakura’s shoulder. “Um, Sakura? You okay? You don’t seem to be sleeping very well…” She paused when Sakura sighed and stirred beneath her tough, and the purple-haired girl turned to face her. A second or two passed before sleepy, cloudy eyes opened, Sakura looking up at her sister almost lazily.
“… Sakura?” Rin’s mouth, for some strange reason, went dry. She didn’t know what to make of the look in Sakura’s eyes, or her current mannerisms. She began to wonder if maybe she needed to back away.
And then she had no choice when, moving faster than her eyes could comprehend, Sakura’s arms looped tightly around her neck and pulled her down into the bed. Rin’s yelp of surprise was muffled, and she scrambled madly for some kind of friction to keep from landing on top of her sister, all for no avail—and her mind went straight to hell when her body pressed intimately against the other girl’s.
Oh, SHIT---
The mental curse couldn’t even complete itself, as Sakura released a low, throaty, downright seductive purr and nuzzled closer to Rin, sighing softly seemingly in contentment and pulling the older girl even closer. Rin’s thought process fizzled into static when she felt soft, warm lips near her ear, and somehow her constant mental chants of she’s my little sister didn’t hold up well against the fact that she was currently being hugged, tightly, by a very grown, very mature young woman.
Well, okay, all things considered, it wasn’t too bad. Sakura didn’t seem to want more other than this tight snuggling, which was totally destroying Rin’s higher thought functions, but if that was all it was, she could handle it. Oh yes, she could handle it just fine. She’d just need to take a cold shower the moment she was free.
Then those warm, soft lips moved lower, pressing gently against her ear and to her neck.
“GAH! S-S-Sakura, h-hold on a minute!”
Rin’s panicked cry and renewed struggles at the intimate contact must have stirred Sakura, as her grip loosened and she blinked, her eyes clearing. The loosening was enough for Rin to shoot off the bed and tumble head over heels onto the floor, lying in a stunned heap in the light of the hallway as Sakura stared down at her, trembling and blinking.
And a moment later, Sakura remembered what had happened. Her eyes widened, and her trembling, if possible, became worse. She turned bright red and immediately scooted back on the bed. “I-I’m sorry, Nee-san, I didn’t…. I’m so sorry, I…” She stammered, trying to apologize and not finding the words for it. Still a little dazed, Rin shook her head and slowly sat up, folding her legs and rubbing the back of her neck, her eyes down as Sakura finally fell silent and looked away.
A minute or two of awkward silence passed.
“So, um…” Rin cleared her throat. “I guess that’s because… I mean, you…”
“I…. yeah.” Still not looking at her sister, Sakura nodded. “My… my body needs mana.”
And you were the only magus nearby.
Cue more awkward silence.
Finally, Sakura swallowed and looked at her sister. “I’m sorry, Nee-san,” she said softly, curling up slightly in the center of her bed. “I’ll try to control myself better. You can leave now.”
Rin blinked and looked up at the girl, surprised. Why did Sakura act like it was her fault? It wasn’t her fault that her body was the way it was, or that she was so desperate for mana that she was getting to a point where any magus would do, so long as she got what she needed. So why…. Why did she take the blame on herself?
And what kind of sister am I, letting her think that?
Sakura had looked away again, so she didn’t see Rin get up, or close the door behind her; she only heard it, and flinched slightly, thinking that she had just completely ruined her relationship with the older girl. She blinked, then, when she heard soft footsteps in the darkness; then jolted completely when she felt something warm and soft hug her. Her eyes widened. “N… Nee-san?”
“I can’t tell which one of us is the bigger idiot,” Rin sighed, pulling away. In the dark, all Sakura could see was her eyes; two light blue lights that she would have recognized anywhere.
“Bigger… idiot?” Sakura was getting confused.
Rin sighed again. “Sakura, you need mana, right?”
Still confused, Sakura nodded. Rin couldn’t have seen her in the darkness, but she must have seen her eyes move or something, as she went on, taking a deep breath before continuing.
“I haven’t been the best sister, at all. And what I’m about to suggest is… definitely going to sound weird, but I’m your sister, and I want to help you.” Rin smiled slightly. “You have a powerful magus right in front of you, Sakura.”
Sakura blinked. For a moment, it seemed her mind had failed to comprehend the implications of what Rin had said; it only took a second for her to get it, and her eyes widened. She was suddenly grateful for the dark, as it hid her blush. “B-But, N-Nee-san, we can’t! We’re—“
“Sisters, I know. Sisters don’t usually do what I’m suggesting, I know.” Rin’s smile became a little crooked now. “But, well… as much as I hate to say it, we weren’t exactly normal sisters to begin with.”
At that, Sakura laughed softly. “No, we really weren’t.” She timidly met Rin’s gaze. It would be okay, wouldn’t it? If Rin had suggested it, then that meant she wasn’t against it, and the truth was, Rin was a powerful magus. The amount of mana Sakura could get from having sex with her would make up for the amount she had lost at school and then some. And… well, Rin wanted to help her. Yes, it was a strange, unorthodox way of helping considering their relationship, but it was an honest wish all the same. And, well, it wasn’t like she had many other options at this point.
Rin moved first, albeit slowly, taking Sakura’s response and following silence as encouragement to continue. She closed the distance slightly, enough so that Sakura could feel their breaths mingling, then paused, unsure if she should continue. In the dark, for a moment, they just gazed at each other.
The message was clear. Rin had suggested it, but the choice was Sakura’s. It was, perhaps, the first choice she had ever been given.
And that was why Sakura resolved to feel no regrets when she closed the final distance, gently claiming Rin’s mouth in a light, chaste kiss that slowly grew deeper and more heated, and the darkness claimed them both until morning.
So yeah, no additional notes to post at the moment. I think this chapter really speaks for itself, and I'm kind of worn out since I've been working on it all day. Please enjoy!
Location: Pennsylvania. It's sort of like a real state.
Age: 39
Spoiler for Rain Review:
Well... I believe the first thing to say would be 'things just got complicated'.
First, the 'rest' of the chapter. The subplot with Saber could be interesting; this is a good establishing scene, and it will be nice to see it play out however you decide to take it.
I felt a little bad for Shirou, truly. He kind of just got his hopes crushed after finally working up the courage to admit his feelings. He's putting on a brave face, but he just took a hit, that much is clear. How this changes his actions for the remainder of the storyline will be probably just as interesting as seeing the main relationship develop, to be honest... his whole world just got overturned twice in the space of a few days, once when he realized his feelings, and again when he couldn't act on them.
Nice bonding scenes with the sisters. It seems that the first night was good for them, because they're already closer than they ever got in HF. I guess one saving the other's life will do that. And I admit I chuckled when Rin said, "I have no intention of killing Sakura at this point". She gets right to the point, I see .
And now, the main event...
I knew this was going to happen, so it's not a twist to me, but I'll say that it still kind of felt like one somehow. Does that make sense? Like... I knew it was coming but still didn't quite expect it. The build-up to the scene worked well; their reasoning was just logical enough to convince themselves, and just contrived enough to hint that they're kind of lying to themselves about it just being 'mana transfer'.
Despite what Rin might say, if she called Shirou and said, 'please come back, Sakura might die if you don't', he would have, and the fact that she didn't make that call showed that deep down she did not want to. And Sakura could easily have requested she do so, but did not. They don't have a normal sisterly relationship, after all, and they certainly had enough subtext in-game to make an attraction plausible. That night in the rain could easily be enough to bring that out in both of them, even though for the moment they're not quite willing to admit it and telling themselves it's solely out of necessity.
All told, an excellent chapter and a very good way to establish where the story is going from here. Can't wait to see what happens next!
I felt a little bad for Shirou, truly. He kind of just got his hopes crushed after finally working up the courage to admit his feelings. He's putting on a brave face, but he just took a hit, that much is clear. How this changes his actions for the remainder of the storyline will be probably just as interesting as seeing the main relationship develop, to be honest... his whole world just got overturned twice in the space of a few days, once when he realized his feelings, and again when he couldn't act on them.
Yes, well, I've found Shirou makes an excellent punching bag in that sense. You can hurt him as much as you like and he never breaks completely. But yeah, in his case, it's going to get worse before it gets better, though it does get better for him; now I just need to figure out in what way it gets better for him....
Quote:
Spoiler:
Despite what Rin might say, if she called Shirou and said, 'please come back, Sakura might die if you don't', he would have, and the fact that she didn't make that call showed that deep down she did not want to. And Sakura could easily have requested she do so, but did not. They don't have a normal sisterly relationship, after all, and they certainly had enough subtext in-game to make an attraction plausible. That night in the rain could easily be enough to bring that out in both of them, even though for the moment they're not quite willing to admit it and telling themselves it's solely out of necessity.
Morning after is certainly going to be interesting, that's for sure. I replayed through it just a minute ago to get the general feel for the scene when it was Shirou and Sakura, and I already have some ideas of how to tweak it for Rain.
“Discretion. There is such a thing as discretion, you know.” The voice said. It filled the ears of the man tied to the only chair in the room, starting to sweat profusely from the brightly burning lamp just an inch above his head. “I'm sorry, is that uncomfortable? I wasn't really expecting you to be so tall.” The voice was conciliatory, its owner fidgeting sympathetically just beyond the swath of light. His (her? its?) form could only be seen vaguely, a weak assurance it was human despite evidence to the contrary.
“Bullshit! You let me go this instant you bastard!” the man snarled, chomping at the bit as he shifted his weight futilely. “Don't you have any idea who I am?” The man flinched and rocked back when an arm shot out from the darkness, brown leather glove gripping the rim of the lamp.
“Hey, hey don't shift around so much, it causes problems.” The voice spoke casually. It had to be a woman didn't it? No, on second thought, that sounded like a man. A boy, maybe? “It's a rickety building, you know?” A single firm tug on the lamp and a cloud of plaster fell from the ceiling onto the man's face, wires loosened.
“Are you listening to me? I'm going to have your head for this, I'm—” Then, a forceful push, and the lamp sailed into his face, the rim scraping against his scalp, one of the white-hot bulbs searing and shattering against his face as he was tipped to the floor.
“Oh, I know exactly who you are, good sir,” the voice said grandly, apparently deaf to the shrieks rising from before his feet. “Punjit Rasharl. Born May 8th, 1983 in Mumbai, India. Three sisters, two brothers, divorced, one son. You are President of Brahmin Electronics which has become quite prosperous as of late—”
“God, I have glass in my eyes you crazy son of a bitch!” Rasharl said, clawing at the fragments in desperation.
“—and you have glass in your eyes.” The voice paused, then the figure stepped into the halved lamplight, stooping down over the prone man. “But what I'm more interested in is the reason your company is suddenly so prosperous. It's the processor you've developed. It's quite a fancy piece of work. Maybe too fancy...for a normal human?” These words stopped Rasharl cold just as he'd finished removing the shards. When his one survivng eye opened, it was wide and fixed on the featureless gray mask, encircled by tattered scraps of brown leather. Even in the light, the form seemed a mockery of humanity.
“You...what are you saying? We've been—”
“Secretly developing that chip for eight years, right? I know that little PR cover well enough, I helped you cook up the details, Mr. President, sir.” The voice suddenly carried a lilting, feminine note of familiarity, and the prone man felt the last of his will to struggle leave his body, forced out by shock. “See, this brings me back to my main point. There is such a thing as discretion. Because I employed some, you never gave a second thought to how strange it was that one of your board members should happen to find just the right adviser for your needs right before you shipped the new hardware. Because you didn't employ any—” the gloved hands suddenly wrapped around the throat of the listless Rasharl, closing tightly “—it's absolutely pathetic how obvious magecraft was in your design. Miracles of science happen, but not on your R&D budget and not on your time frames. Did you even think of the consequences if normal people were to discover magic exists because—oh, I suppose you're dead now, aren't you.”
The figure released the crushed throat, leaving the body to lay in ruins while it stepped back into the shadows to retrieve a can of oil and a box of matches. After opening the can and dousing the surroundings, it hands retreated into the mass of rough leather scraps the concealed its body and produced a still-boxed pre-pay phone. It tore open the box indelicately and quickly punched in a few numbers with one hand while it stood the chair upright with the other and sat in it, swinging its legs back and forth.
“It's done. I just have the cleanup left. ...No, he didn't even have any spells to try, enhancement is all he knows—well, knew. ...Yeah, it's safe to do a wipe. ...Good, I'll expect my pay in three days. ...No, you'll have to find me all over again if you need me. Goodbye.” It shut off the phone, throwing it carelessly to the floor as it rose from its seat.
“Hey, guess what?” it asked the still body at its feet. “That was the board member that introduced us two months ago! Good times, good times. So, listen. Turns out he's a magus himself, and he called me in to try and put some hush hush on this whole processor thing when he found out about it. Remember when I told you to dumb it down a bit? Yeah, I was trying to prevent all this. So I don't want you to take it personally that some guys are going to destroy everything related to your research and life, so it will be just like you never existed. But, you know, it was your fault. Toodles!”
The figure crossed the shadows to the rotting wooden door, struck a match and threw it, turning its back as the room went ablaze.
--- --- --- --- ---
The sun had just begun to rise, the first rays of white filtering in through the library window, falling upon the seated form of an elderly woman. She sat there serenely, eyes closed, hands folded in her lap, her posture practiced and upright.
“Madam,” she heard her butler say as he entered the room. “A guest has arrived for you, a young lady, it seems.” That puzzled her somewhat, and she opened her piercing ice-blue eyes to study the butler's face a moment.
“I see. Send her in.”
“Certainly.”
She turned her head to peer out the window and heaved a sigh, her body aching as she shifted about ever so slightly in the cushioned seat. The unexpected always exacerbated her weak condition, and she had to confess that she'd been expecting a man from the voice she'd heard. The butler returned with the guest in tow and...
A man was exactly what she saw. A proud man with something of the aristocracy in him. His face full but not overly, with a healthy color and an angular jaw. He had a broad-built frame in an immaculate black suit, that took confident strides towards her. The woman looked at her butler in shock for a moment, then repressed a look of understanding.
“Ah, yes, come in!” She gestured for the striking visitor to approach. “That will be all, Pieter.”
“Certainly, madam.”
Both elder and visitor watched as the butler excused himself, closing the great mahogany door behind him.
“My name is Hildegaard Kroner,” the woman began. “My butler said he saw a woman. You must be quite a clever illusionist, Mister...?”
“Mister, Miss, for all you know either one works. It's not that clever. We spoke on the phone before and I was using a specific voice to influence what you'd see of me.”
“Oh, so what I see is a trick as well?” The woman inquired, narrowing her piercing eyes at what she perceived as a kind of challenge. She mustered the mana to her eyes for a true sight spell, but the form before her did not so much as flicker. “That's quite something. You are as good as the rumors say.”
“Hm. What else do the rumors say?” the man asked, forcing a polite smile as he cast his eyes to the carpet.
“That you tire quickly of negotiations. So, then, the reason I...or rather, my
colleagues and I wish to hire you.” She gasped as pain needled her every nerve when she made the effort to rise.
Especially after using mana like that. Once up, however, she walked towards the man and spoke in a low tone. “You exclusively deal with magi who make spectacles of themselves, yes?”
“Absolutely. For a fitting price. Just because I think it's right doesn't mean it should be free.” the man said, arching a brow knowingly.
“Naturally.” Hildegaard nodded. “Then I have a name in mind that should spark your interest. Mugen Ken. I trust you know of him?” she said, smiling enough for her white but crooked teeth to show.
“Know of him?” the man asked, looking amused. “Who doesn't? The superhero of Japan, a man who doesn't die even if you kill him. The name means 'Unlimited Blades' in English, I think. What about him?”
The woman frowned at this, wondering if that question was in earnest, or sarcastic, and liking neither possibility. She regained her composure and locked eyes with him.
“We want you to deal with him. He's the greatest spectacle of them all. You see, he uses proje—”
“Yes, projection magic, I know. He's quite liberal with it. Distressing, really.”
“So you'll do this?”
“Of course not.”
“Excelle—what did you say?”
“I said I will not go after Mugen Ken.”
“But—”
“Listen, I know how older magi tend to lose sight of reality with all their politicking, but first off, that's an incredibly high-profile target, and a controversial one. A lot of people would be happy to have him dead, but even those people would be asking questions because he's such a hot topic. Second, the man is insanely powerful. Sure, anyone can beat anyone given the right circumstances, but those would be hard to come by here. Third and most importantly, I don't see the threat.”
“But he blatantly uses magic every day with news cameras watching! Millions of people have seen it!”
“...except that he's so fast that nobody except a skilled magus—such as yourself!—would ever notice he's replacing his swords. To everyone else, it just looks like he keeps using the same ones. He knows what discretion is.”
Hildegaard's face soured considerably. The rumor mill had painted a picture of this person in her head that was clearly exaggerated. He was supposed to be a monster, a fanatic begging for handouts. Resistance was the last thing she'd accounted for. Yet, all was not lost if she were willing to be just a little flexible.
“Well, I had not intended to tell you this,” she said, closing her eyes and heaving a great sigh to punctuate her disappointment, “but my colleagues and I have it on good authority that another Holy Grail War is soon to take place in Fuyuki City. We believe very strongly that Mugen Ken will assert himself in it to try to contain the situation. This will, of course, greatly increase the risk of the War becoming a public event, which would be...” she let the sentence hang in the air, and that seemed to perk the man's interest.
“I see. Well, that clears up all my objections, but raises one last question.”
“If I answer it to the best of my ability, will you take this job?”
“For that and fifty million Euros, yes.”
“You are a costly man, but very well. Ask.”
“Why do you think Mugen Ken will get himself involved? How do you know he's even aware of the Grail? He doesn't have any connections to the Mage's Association or the Catholic Church, last I heard.”
“Ah, certain information in our possession suggests that he was a participant from the previous Holy Grail War.”
“A master?”
“Likely, but possibly a servant.”
“...well, you certainly aren't making it much easier on me, but that should be enough.” the man said, raising a hand to stroke his chin. “I'll do it.”
“Excellent.” Hildegaard reached into a sleeve with the opposite hand and produced a folded piece of paper for the man. “The supply point will be in Fuyuki City itself, the particulars are written there, and more information will be waiting for you when you arrive.”
“Right, right. You can call me Cloth,” the man said, stuffing the paper into his shirt pocket. “I'll contact you as soon as I get to Fuyuki.”
Hildegaard nodded and watched him walk to the door, studying him with uncertainty. Was someone who asked so many questions and complained so much really the beast she'd been described? For a moment she wondered if she'd simply hired a different person altogether.
Still, his illusions are powerful... For some reason, an idle thought passed out her lips at that moment.
“Cloth, I suppose it would be futile to ask what you actually look like?” She thought herself frivolous for asking, but could only watch as the man suddenly stopped at the door. Without a word, he turned to look over his shoulder, and on that handsome face was a smile like an infection, twisting its away across his features. His eyes were hungry, and she had to resist the strong urge to collapse from the sudden change. When she regained control of herself, he was gone.
Location: Pennsylvania. It's sort of like a real state.
Age: 39
Quote:
Originally Posted by RadiantBeam
Yes, well, I've found Shirou makes an excellent punching bag in that sense. You can hurt him as much as you like and he never breaks completely. But yeah, in his case, it's going to get worse before it gets better, though it does get better for him; now I just need to figure out in what way it gets better for him....
Morning after is certainly going to be interesting, that's for sure. I replayed through it just a minute ago to get the general feel for the scene when it was Shirou and Sakura, and I already have some ideas of how to tweak it for Rain.
Well... I've been reading your other works long enough to know you'll deliver on both of those promises in a satisfying manner, so I'm content to wait and see how they both play out. Should be interesting... I cannot, off the top of my head, think of another story that's taken this option.
As always, my inbox is open if you want my opinion on a scene or need to bounce an idea off me. I can't seem to help spoiling you to my story, it's only fair you return the favor I suppose
“Discretion. There is such a thing as discretion, you know.” The voice said. It filled the ears of the man tied to the only chair in the room, starting to sweat profusely from the brightly burning lamp just an inch above his head. “I'm sorry, is that uncomfortable? I wasn't really expecting you to be so tall.” The voice was conciliatory, its owner fidgeting sympathetically just beyond the swath of light. His (her? its?) form could only be seen vaguely, a weak assurance it was human despite evidence to the contrary.
“Bullshit! You let me go this instant you bastard!” the man snarled, chomping at the bit as he shifted his weight futilely. “Don't you have any idea who I am?” The man flinched and rocked back when an arm shot out from the darkness, brown leather glove gripping the rim of the lamp.
“Hey, hey don't shift around so much, it causes problems.” The voice spoke casually. It had to be a woman didn't it? No, on second thought, that sounded like a man. A boy, maybe? “It's a rickety building, you know?” A single firm tug on the lamp and a cloud of plaster fell from the ceiling onto the man's face, wires loosened.
“Are you listening to me? I'm going to have your head for this, I'm—” Then, a forceful push, and the lamp sailed into his face, the rim scraping against his scalp, one of the white-hot bulbs searing and shattering against his face as he was tipped to the floor.
“Oh, I know exactly who you are, good sir,” the voice said grandly, apparently deaf to the shrieks rising from before his feet. “Punjit Rasharl. Born May 8th, 1983 in Mumbai, India. Three sisters, two brothers, divorced, one son. You are President of Brahmin Electronics which has become quite prosperous as of late—”
“God, I have glass in my eyes you crazy son of a bitch!” Rasharl said, clawing at the fragments in desperation.
“—and you have glass in your eyes.” The voice paused, then the figure stepped into the halved lamplight, stooping down over the prone man. “But what I'm more interested in is the reason your company is suddenly so prosperous. It's the processor you've developed. It's quite a fancy piece of work. Maybe too fancy...for a normal human?” These words stopped Rasharl cold just as he'd finished removing the shards. When his one survivng eye opened, it was wide and fixed on the featureless gray mask, encircled by tattered scraps of brown leather. Even in the light, the form seemed a mockery of humanity.
“You...what are you saying? We've been—”
“Secretly developing that chip for eight years, right? I know that little PR cover well enough, I helped you cook up the details, Mr. President, sir.” The voice suddenly carried a lilting, feminine note of familiarity, and the prone man felt the last of his will to struggle leave his body, forced out by shock. “See, this brings me back to my main point. There is such a thing as discretion. Because I employed some, you never gave a second thought to how strange it was that one of your board members should happen to find just the right adviser for your needs right before you shipped the new hardware. Because you didn't employ any—” the gloved hands suddenly wrapped around the throat of the listless Rasharl, closing tightly “—it's absolutely pathetic how obvious magecraft was in your design. Miracles of science happen, but not on your R&D budget and not on your time frames. Did you even think of the consequences if normal people were to discover magic exists because—oh, I suppose you're dead now, aren't you.”
The figure released the crushed throat, leaving the body to lay in ruins while it stepped back into the shadows to retrieve a can of oil and a box of matches. After opening the can and dousing the surroundings, it hands retreated into the mass of rough leather scraps the concealed its body and produced a still-boxed pre-pay phone. It tore open the box indelicately and quickly punched in a few numbers with one hand while it stood the chair upright with the other and sat in it, swinging its legs back and forth.
“It's done. I just have the cleanup left. ...No, he didn't even have any spells to try, enhancement is all he knows—well, knew. ...Yeah, it's safe to do a wipe. ...Good, I'll expect my pay in three days. ...No, you'll have to find me all over again if you need me. Goodbye.” It shut off the phone, throwing it carelessly to the floor as it rose from its seat.
“Hey, guess what?” it asked the still body at its feet. “That was the board member that introduced us two months ago! Good times, good times. So, listen. Turns out he's a magus himself, and he called me in to try and put some hush hush on this whole processor thing when he found out about it. Remember when I told you to dumb it down a bit? Yeah, I was trying to prevent all this. So I don't want you to take it personally that some guys are going to destroy everything related to your research and life, so it will be just like you never existed. But, you know, it was your fault. Toodles!”
The figure crossed the shadows to the rotting wooden door, struck a match and threw it, turning its back as the room went ablaze.
--- --- --- --- ---
The sun had just begun to rise, the first rays of white filtering in through the library window, falling upon the seated form of an elderly woman. She sat there serenely, eyes closed, hands folded in her lap, her posture practiced and upright.
“Madam,” she heard her butler say as he entered the room. “A guest has arrived for you, a young lady, it seems.” That puzzled her somewhat, and she opened her piercing ice-blue eyes to study the butler's face a moment.
“I see. Send her in.”
“Certainly.”
She turned her head to peer out the window and heaved a sigh, her body aching as she shifted about ever so slightly in the cushioned seat. The unexpected always exacerbated her weak condition, and she had to confess that she'd been expecting a man from the voice she'd heard. The butler returned with the guest in tow and...
A man was exactly what she saw. A proud man with something of the aristocracy in him. His face full but not overly, with a healthy color and an angular jaw. He had a broad-built frame in an immaculate black suit, that took confident strides towards her. The woman looked at her butler in shock for a moment, then repressed a look of understanding.
“Ah, yes, come in!” She gestured for the striking visitor to approach. “That will be all, Pieter.”
“Certainly, madam.”
Both elder and visitor watched as the butler excused himself, closing the great mahogany door behind him.
“My name is Hildegaard Kroner,” the woman began. “My butler said he saw a woman. You must be quite a clever illusionist, Mister...?”
“Mister, Miss, for all you know either one works. It's not that clever. We spoke on the phone before and I was using a specific voice to influence what you'd see of me.”
“Oh, so what I see is a trick as well?” The woman inquired, narrowing her piercing eyes at what she perceived as a kind of challenge. She mustered the mana to her eyes for a true sight spell, but the form before her did not so much as flicker. “That's quite something. You are as good as the rumors say.”
“Hm. What else do the rumors say?” the man asked, forcing a polite smile as he cast his eyes to the carpet.
“That you tire quickly of negotiations. So, then, the reason I...or rather, my
colleagues and I wish to hire you.” She gasped as pain needled her every nerve when she made the effort to rise.
Especially after using mana like that. Once up, however, she walked towards the man and spoke in a low tone. “You exclusively deal with magi who make spectacles of themselves, yes?”
“Absolutely. For a fitting price. Just because I think it's right doesn't mean it should be free.” the man said, arching a brow knowingly.
“Naturally.” Hildegaard nodded. “Then I have a name in mind that should spark your interest. Mugen Ken. I trust you know of him?” she said, smiling enough for her white but crooked teeth to show.
“Know of him?” the man asked, looking amused. “Who doesn't? The superhero of Japan, a man who doesn't die even if you kill him. The name means 'Unlimited Blades' in English, I think. What about him?”
The woman frowned at this, wondering if that question was in earnest, or sarcastic, and liking neither possibility. She regained her composure and locked eyes with him.
“We want you to deal with him. He's the greatest spectacle of them all. You see, he uses proje—”
“Yes, projection magic, I know. He's quite liberal with it. Distressing, really.”
“So you'll do this?”
“Of course not.”
“Excelle—what did you say?”
“I said I will not go after Mugen Ken.”
“But—”
“Listen, I know how older magi tend to lose sight of reality with all their politicking, but first off, that's an incredibly high-profile target, and a controversial one. A lot of people would be happy to have him dead, but even those people would be asking questions because he's such a hot topic. Second, the man is insanely powerful. Sure, anyone can beat anyone given the right circumstances, but those would be hard to come by here. Third and most importantly, I don't see the threat.”
“But he blatantly uses magic every day with news cameras watching! Millions of people have seen it!”
“...except that he's so fast that nobody except a skilled magus—such as yourself!—would ever notice he's replacing his swords. To everyone else, it just looks like he keeps using the same ones. He knows what discretion is.”
Hildegaard's face soured considerably. The rumor mill had painted a picture of this person in her head that was clearly exaggerated. He was supposed to be a monster, a fanatic begging for handouts. Resistance was the last thing she'd accounted for. Yet, all was not lost if she were willing to be just a little flexible.
“Well, I had not intended to tell you this,” she said, closing her eyes and heaving a great sigh to punctuate her disappointment, “but my colleagues and I have it on good authority that another Holy Grail War is soon to take place in Fuyuki City. We believe very strongly that Mugen Ken will assert himself in it to try to contain the situation. This will, of course, greatly increase the risk of the War becoming a public event, which would be...” she let the sentence hang in the air, and that seemed to perk the man's interest.
“I see. Well, that clears up all my objections, but raises one last question.”
“If I answer it to the best of my ability, will you take this job?”
“For that and fifty million Euros, yes.”
“You are a costly man, but very well. Ask.”
“Why do you think Mugen Ken will get himself involved? How do you know he's even aware of the Grail? He doesn't have any connections to the Mage's Association or the Catholic Church, last I heard.”
“Ah, certain information in our possession suggests that he was a participant from the previous Holy Grail War.”
“A master?”
“Likely, but possibly a servant.”
“...well, you certainly aren't making it much easier on me, but that should be enough.” the man said, raising a hand to stroke his chin. “I'll do it.”
“Excellent.” Hildegaard reached into a sleeve with the opposite hand and produced a folded piece of paper for the man. “The supply point will be in Fuyuki City itself, the particulars are written there, and more information will be waiting for you when you arrive.”
“Right, right. You can call me Cloth,” the man said, stuffing the paper into his shirt pocket. “I'll contact you as soon as I get to Fuyuki.”
Hildegaard nodded and watched him walk to the door, studying him with uncertainty. Was someone who asked so many questions and complained so much really the beast she'd been described? For a moment she wondered if she'd simply hired a different person altogether.
Still, his illusions are powerful... For some reason, an idle thought passed out her lips at that moment.
“Cloth, I suppose it would be futile to ask what you actually look like?” She thought herself frivolous for asking, but could only watch as the man suddenly stopped at the door. Without a word, he turned to look over his shoulder, and on that handsome face was a smile like an infection, twisting its away across his features. His eyes were hungry, and she had to resist the strong urge to collapse from the sudden change. When she regained control of herself, he was gone.
...
Well, now I'm hooked.
Just curious, is this OCs only, or will the main cast of Fate be making an appearance of some sort? I can already imagine wacky hijinks where they confuse Shirou for Mugen for some strange reason.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Moczo
As always, my inbox is open if you want my opinion on a scene or need to bounce an idea off me. I can't seem to help spoiling you to my story, it's only fair you return the favor I suppose
Spoiler for Rain:
Well, it's like, the scene is balancing three main things: you have the whole awkwardness of "Um, we just had sex and it was my first time..." "Well, it was my first time with a girl!" followed by them trying to act like normal sisters and pretend nothing happened, and then the whole issue of "Oh BTW, Berserker's still up and around, we should do something about that."
Just curious, is this OCs only, or will the main cast of Fate be making an appearance of some sort? I can already imagine wacky hijinks where they confuse Shirou for Mugen for some strange reason.
Spoiler:
Various members of the cast of Fate will be making appearances. Shirou, Rin and a handful of others will come up in this. In fact, Shirou is pretty much co-star of this fic alongside Cloth.
Location: Pennsylvania. It's sort of like a real state.
Age: 39
Quote:
Originally Posted by Ricky Controversy
Spoiler for Fate/Last Forge:
Fate/Last Forge
Prologue
“Discretion. There is such a thing as discretion, you know.” The voice said. It filled the ears of the man tied to the only chair in the room, starting to sweat profusely from the brightly burning lamp just an inch above his head. “I'm sorry, is that uncomfortable? I wasn't really expecting you to be so tall.” The voice was conciliatory, its owner fidgeting sympathetically just beyond the swath of light. His (her? its?) form could only be seen vaguely, a weak assurance it was human despite evidence to the contrary.
“Bullshit! You let me go this instant you bastard!” the man snarled, chomping at the bit as he shifted his weight futilely. “Don't you have any idea who I am?” The man flinched and rocked back when an arm shot out from the darkness, brown leather glove gripping the rim of the lamp.
“Hey, hey don't shift around so much, it causes problems.” The voice spoke casually. It had to be a woman didn't it? No, on second thought, that sounded like a man. A boy, maybe? “It's a rickety building, you know?” A single firm tug on the lamp and a cloud of plaster fell from the ceiling onto the man's face, wires loosened.
“Are you listening to me? I'm going to have your head for this, I'm—” Then, a forceful push, and the lamp sailed into his face, the rim scraping against his scalp, one of the white-hot bulbs searing and shattering against his face as he was tipped to the floor.
“Oh, I know exactly who you are, good sir,” the voice said grandly, apparently deaf to the shrieks rising from before his feet. “Punjit Rasharl. Born May 8th, 1983 in Mumbai, India. Three sisters, two brothers, divorced, one son. You are President of Brahmin Electronics which has become quite prosperous as of late—”
“God, I have glass in my eyes you crazy son of a bitch!” Rasharl said, clawing at the fragments in desperation.
“—and you have glass in your eyes.” The voice paused, then the figure stepped into the halved lamplight, stooping down over the prone man. “But what I'm more interested in is the reason your company is suddenly so prosperous. It's the processor you've developed. It's quite a fancy piece of work. Maybe too fancy...for a normal human?” These words stopped Rasharl cold just as he'd finished removing the shards. When his one survivng eye opened, it was wide and fixed on the featureless gray mask, encircled by tattered scraps of brown leather. Even in the light, the form seemed a mockery of humanity.
“You...what are you saying? We've been—”
“Secretly developing that chip for eight years, right? I know that little PR cover well enough, I helped you cook up the details, Mr. President, sir.” The voice suddenly carried a lilting, feminine note of familiarity, and the prone man felt the last of his will to struggle leave his body, forced out by shock. “See, this brings me back to my main point. There is such a thing as discretion. Because I employed some, you never gave a second thought to how strange it was that one of your board members should happen to find just the right adviser for your needs right before you shipped the new hardware. Because you didn't employ any—” the gloved hands suddenly wrapped around the throat of the listless Rasharl, closing tightly “—it's absolutely pathetic how obvious magecraft was in your design. Miracles of science happen, but not on your R&D budget and not on your time frames. Did you even think of the consequences if normal people were to discover magic exists because—oh, I suppose you're dead now, aren't you.”
The figure released the crushed throat, leaving the body to lay in ruins while it stepped back into the shadows to retrieve a can of oil and a box of matches. After opening the can and dousing the surroundings, it hands retreated into the mass of rough leather scraps the concealed its body and produced a still-boxed pre-pay phone. It tore open the box indelicately and quickly punched in a few numbers with one hand while it stood the chair upright with the other and sat in it, swinging its legs back and forth.
“It's done. I just have the cleanup left. ...No, he didn't even have any spells to try, enhancement is all he knows—well, knew. ...Yeah, it's safe to do a wipe. ...Good, I'll expect my pay in three days. ...No, you'll have to find me all over again if you need me. Goodbye.” It shut off the phone, throwing it carelessly to the floor as it rose from its seat.
“Hey, guess what?” it asked the still body at its feet. “That was the board member that introduced us two months ago! Good times, good times. So, listen. Turns out he's a magus himself, and he called me in to try and put some hush hush on this whole processor thing when he found out about it. Remember when I told you to dumb it down a bit? Yeah, I was trying to prevent all this. So I don't want you to take it personally that some guys are going to destroy everything related to your research and life, so it will be just like you never existed. But, you know, it was your fault. Toodles!”
The figure crossed the shadows to the rotting wooden door, struck a match and threw it, turning its back as the room went ablaze.
--- --- --- --- ---
The sun had just begun to rise, the first rays of white filtering in through the library window, falling upon the seated form of an elderly woman. She sat there serenely, eyes closed, hands folded in her lap, her posture practiced and upright.
“Madam,” she heard her butler say as he entered the room. “A guest has arrived for you, a young lady, it seems.” That puzzled her somewhat, and she opened her piercing ice-blue eyes to study the butler's face a moment.
“I see. Send her in.”
“Certainly.”
She turned her head to peer out the window and heaved a sigh, her body aching as she shifted about ever so slightly in the cushioned seat. The unexpected always exacerbated her weak condition, and she had to confess that she'd been expecting a man from the voice she'd heard. The butler returned with the guest in tow and...
A man was exactly what she saw. A proud man with something of the aristocracy in him. His face full but not overly, with a healthy color and an angular jaw. He had a broad-built frame in an immaculate black suit, that took confident strides towards her. The woman looked at her butler in shock for a moment, then repressed a look of understanding.
“Ah, yes, come in!” She gestured for the striking visitor to approach. “That will be all, Pieter.”
“Certainly, madam.”
Both elder and visitor watched as the butler excused himself, closing the great mahogany door behind him.
“My name is Hildegaard Kroner,” the woman began. “My butler said he saw a woman. You must be quite a clever illusionist, Mister...?”
“Mister, Miss, for all you know either one works. It's not that clever. We spoke on the phone before and I was using a specific voice to influence what you'd see of me.”
“Oh, so what I see is a trick as well?” The woman inquired, narrowing her piercing eyes at what she perceived as a kind of challenge. She mustered the mana to her eyes for a true sight spell, but the form before her did not so much as flicker. “That's quite something. You are as good as the rumors say.”
“Hm. What else do the rumors say?” the man asked, forcing a polite smile as he cast his eyes to the carpet.
“That you tire quickly of negotiations. So, then, the reason I...or rather, my
colleagues and I wish to hire you.” She gasped as pain needled her every nerve when she made the effort to rise.
Especially after using mana like that. Once up, however, she walked towards the man and spoke in a low tone. “You exclusively deal with magi who make spectacles of themselves, yes?”
“Absolutely. For a fitting price. Just because I think it's right doesn't mean it should be free.” the man said, arching a brow knowingly.
“Naturally.” Hildegaard nodded. “Then I have a name in mind that should spark your interest. Mugen Ken. I trust you know of him?” she said, smiling enough for her white but crooked teeth to show.
“Know of him?” the man asked, looking amused. “Who doesn't? The superhero of Japan, a man who doesn't die even if you kill him. The name means 'Unlimited Blades' in English, I think. What about him?”
The woman frowned at this, wondering if that question was in earnest, or sarcastic, and liking neither possibility. She regained her composure and locked eyes with him.
“We want you to deal with him. He's the greatest spectacle of them all. You see, he uses proje—”
“Yes, projection magic, I know. He's quite liberal with it. Distressing, really.”
“So you'll do this?”
“Of course not.”
“Excelle—what did you say?”
“I said I will not go after Mugen Ken.”
“But—”
“Listen, I know how older magi tend to lose sight of reality with all their politicking, but first off, that's an incredibly high-profile target, and a controversial one. A lot of people would be happy to have him dead, but even those people would be asking questions because he's such a hot topic. Second, the man is insanely powerful. Sure, anyone can beat anyone given the right circumstances, but those would be hard to come by here. Third and most importantly, I don't see the threat.”
“But he blatantly uses magic every day with news cameras watching! Millions of people have seen it!”
“...except that he's so fast that nobody except a skilled magus—such as yourself!—would ever notice he's replacing his swords. To everyone else, it just looks like he keeps using the same ones. He knows what discretion is.”
Hildegaard's face soured considerably. The rumor mill had painted a picture of this person in her head that was clearly exaggerated. He was supposed to be a monster, a fanatic begging for handouts. Resistance was the last thing she'd accounted for. Yet, all was not lost if she were willing to be just a little flexible.
“Well, I had not intended to tell you this,” she said, closing her eyes and heaving a great sigh to punctuate her disappointment, “but my colleagues and I have it on good authority that another Holy Grail War is soon to take place in Fuyuki City. We believe very strongly that Mugen Ken will assert himself in it to try to contain the situation. This will, of course, greatly increase the risk of the War becoming a public event, which would be...” she let the sentence hang in the air, and that seemed to perk the man's interest.
“I see. Well, that clears up all my objections, but raises one last question.”
“If I answer it to the best of my ability, will you take this job?”
“For that and fifty million Euros, yes.”
“You are a costly man, but very well. Ask.”
“Why do you think Mugen Ken will get himself involved? How do you know he's even aware of the Grail? He doesn't have any connections to the Mage's Association or the Catholic Church, last I heard.”
“Ah, certain information in our possession suggests that he was a participant from the previous Holy Grail War.”
“A master?”
“Likely, but possibly a servant.”
“...well, you certainly aren't making it much easier on me, but that should be enough.” the man said, raising a hand to stroke his chin. “I'll do it.”
“Excellent.” Hildegaard reached into a sleeve with the opposite hand and produced a folded piece of paper for the man. “The supply point will be in Fuyuki City itself, the particulars are written there, and more information will be waiting for you when you arrive.”
“Right, right. You can call me Cloth,” the man said, stuffing the paper into his shirt pocket. “I'll contact you as soon as I get to Fuyuki.”
Hildegaard nodded and watched him walk to the door, studying him with uncertainty. Was someone who asked so many questions and complained so much really the beast she'd been described? For a moment she wondered if she'd simply hired a different person altogether.
Still, his illusions are powerful... For some reason, an idle thought passed out her lips at that moment.
“Cloth, I suppose it would be futile to ask what you actually look like?” She thought herself frivolous for asking, but could only watch as the man suddenly stopped at the door. Without a word, he turned to look over his shoulder, and on that handsome face was a smile like an infection, twisting its away across his features. His eyes were hungry, and she had to resist the strong urge to collapse from the sudden change. When she regained control of herself, he was gone.
Hmmmm. Well, I'm operating under the assumption that Mugen Ken is Shirou until told otherwise. The only other real option is Archer, and since this seems to follow the ending of UBW only one of those options is freely available.
Which would mean Cloth is an assassin for the Mage's Association? Not a terribly efficient one, with the kidnapping and glass in the eyes before he makes the hit, but we all have our quirks I suppose . Still, the association seems the most likely people to hire him for something like this; they don't look kindly on people running around being superheroes, and I'm pretty sure that a working Reality Marble in a human would be enough to have them hunt Shirou down even if he wasn't a spectacle.
Well, an intriguing beginning, and I like your writing style from what I've seen of it. Looking forward to more.
Hmmmm. Well, I'm operating under the assumption that Mugen Ken is Shirou until told otherwise. The only other real option is Archer, and since this seems to follow the ending of UBW only one of those options is freely available.
Spoiler:
It's not REALLY spoilers since I discuss it in the next chapter quite openly. Shirou is indeed Mugen Ken, and UBW is the primary departure point of the story. But Cloth doesn't know this, and nobody knows who Cloth is. See where I'm going with this?
Quote:
Which would mean Cloth is an assassin for the Mage's Association? Not a terribly efficient one, with the kidnapping and glass in the eyes before he makes the hit, but we all have our quirks I suppose .
Spoiler:
Yeah, Cloth goes in for theatrics. After all, he does spend most of his time acting!
Quote:
Well, an intriguing beginning, and I like your writing style from what I've seen of it. Looking forward to more.
Thanks! Hopefully it will be enjoyable for people to read as it is for me to churn out. I'll probably go back and polish chapters from time to time, but I think I'll continue to do this 'posting the first draft' thing just to prevent myself from falling into my usual perfectionist stagnation.
Location: Pennsylvania. It's sort of like a real state.
Age: 39
Quote:
Originally Posted by Ricky Controversy
Spoiler:
Yeah, Cloth goes in for theatrics. After all, he does spend most of his time acting!
Spoiler:
"Mr.... or, to be fair, Ms.... Cloth. While we appreciate your swift response and impeccable service, we are forced to inquire: was it truly necessary to force the target to perform a one-man show of 'Hamlet' before executing him?"
"Is that a problem?"
"Well, not technically, I suppose... just a tad off-putting..."
"Mr.... or, to be fair, Ms.... Cloth. While we appreciate your swift response and impeccable service, we are forced to inquire: was it truly necessary to force the target to perform a one-man show of 'Hamlet' before executing him?"
"Is that a problem?"
"Well, not technically, I suppose... just a tad off-putting..."
Suddenly, the door flew off its hinges, splitting in half where a strong foot had asserted itself. Through the dark threshold, a leather-ragged figure stepped into the chamber where Rin and Lancer were facing off.
"Thank you! Fuck you! A villain has arrived!" Cloth said, dancing into the fray.
"Did you order the extra large ham?" Rin muttered, glancing at Lancer.
Haha, I find it rather amusing that Cloth's quirkiness has already taken on a life of its own despite just being in one chapter. He does certainly try to keep himself a bit straightened for 'business' purposes, but...yeah. At the end of the day, Cloth is Cloth. XD
Location: Where there are no mallets or tentacles.... and the female cast of Tenjou Tenge is mine, all mine!
Age: 40
Quote:
Originally Posted by Moczo
Well... I've been reading your other works long enough to know you'll deliver on both of those promises in a satisfying manner, so I'm content to wait and see how they both play out. Should be interesting... I cannot, off the top of my head, think of another story that's taken this option.
There was another story that took it in a similiar direction. A doujin called Winter's Tale. Its NSFW though.
As to the story itself, a rather....interesting way of reversing that scene. I guess if they were emotionally vulnerable enough and reconciled in this way, it could happen, but I still would think that she would desire Shirou at this point, even if she was attracted to Rin (which she is, because she sees her as what an ideal woman should be like) and driven by the last worm. There is quite of bit of guilt and uncertainty surronding this for them, so I can't say I would feel it was good for them in the long run to pursue this, but that's my opinion. I got a feeling I know where this is going, but I'll wait and see.
I felt a little bad for Shirou, truly. He kind of just got his hopes crushed after finally working up the courage to admit his feelings. He's putting on a brave face, but he just took a hit, that much is clear. How this changes his actions for the remainder of the storyline will be probably just as interesting as seeing the main relationship develop, to be honest... his whole world just got overturned twice in the space of a few days, once when he realized his feelings, and again when he couldn't act on them.
Yeah, I do feel a little sorry for him at the moment, because he's finally come to realise how much he cares for Sakura, only to find out that he is a day too late. But, I don't think the door is entirely shut for him yet, because even if Sakura and Rin are growing closer, they still both have feelings for Shirou, and those aren't going to go away in a hurry. If he plays his cards right, he could end up with both Tohsaka sisters, and since they both love each other (and are willing to have sex together) that would be an almost ideal scenario for all three of them.
Quote:
Nice bonding scenes with the sisters. It seems that the first night was good for them, because they're already closer than they ever got in HF. I guess one saving the other's life will do that.
Well, Rin here has essentially come to the same realisation as she came to in the cave, only she's done it a good five or six days earlier. So, I guess that their relationship would now be about as close as they were shortly after HF, although the fact that she's realised it at the first opportunity, when there are still other choices to make (as opposed to in HF, where she blundered through repeatedly dodging the question of "can I kill Sakura?" by finding excuses to put it off and only actually definitively answered "no" when the question was posted for the very final time) will of course change things massively (and, in particular, it's already
Quote:
And I admit I chuckled when Rin said, "I have no intention of killing Sakura at this point". She gets right to the point, I see .
Yeah, that was just the sort of thing that Rin would say.
Quote:
I knew this was going to happen, so it's not a twist to me, but I'll say that it still kind of felt like one somehow. Does that make sense? Like... I knew it was coming but still didn't quite expect it. The build-up to the scene worked well; their reasoning was just logical enough to convince themselves, and just contrived enough to hint that they're kind of lying to themselves about it just being 'mana transfer'.
Yeah, it works well. Of course, both girls will feel really odd about it and will have to do a lot of convincing
Quote:
Despite what Rin might say, if she called Shirou and said, 'please come back, Sakura might die if you don't', he would have, and the fact that she didn't make that call showed that deep down she did not want to. And Sakura could easily have requested she do so, but did not.
Well, yes, he would, but at the same time, Rin isn't the sort of person to force someone else to do something that she is capable of doing herself, especially with regards to her own sister.
Quote:
They don't have a normal sisterly relationship, after all, and they certainly had enough subtext in-game to make an attraction plausible. That night in the rain could easily be enough to bring that out in both of them, even though for the moment they're not quite willing to admit it and telling themselves it's solely out of necessity.
Exactly. Rin is definitely bisexual, Sakura (in her Dark form) shows signs of attraction towards Rin and, whilst they're sisters, they do indeed not have a 'normal' relationship in any sense of the word.
Quote:
Originally Posted by RadiantBeam
Yes, well, I've found Shirou makes an excellent punching bag in that sense. You can hurt him as much as you like and he never breaks completely. But yeah, in his case, it's going to get worse before it gets better, though it does get better for him; now I just need to figure out in what way it gets better for him....
Well, I can think of one really obvious way in which it can get better for him....
Quote:
Originally Posted by Ricky Controversy
Spoiler:
Various members of the cast of Fate will be making appearances. Shirou, Rin and a handful of others will come up in this. In fact, Shirou is pretty much co-star of this fic alongside Cloth.
2010-10-15, 21:42
Author
