Fate/Stay Night Fan Fiction ❯ Escaping Fate ❯ The Addition ( Chapter 2 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Zekk_Skywalk 
Seeing something within his swords.
Anime/Manga: Fate/Stay Night Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Supernatural / Horror / Fantasy / Hentai / Drama / Action | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 09.29.2011 | Pages: 3 | Words: 3.9K | Visits: 401 | Status: Completed
Seeing something within his swords.
Anime/Manga: Fate/Stay Night Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Supernatural / Horror / Fantasy / Hentai / Drama / Action | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 09.29.2011 | Pages: 3 | Words: 3.9K | Visits: 401 | Status: Completed
AN: Don’t expect these chapters to keep getting pumped out like this. I was pretty much done with chapter 1 when I posted the prologue, so I’ll steadily be slower to post. I do have everything outlined, though, so I know where I’m going with this.
With regards to pairings, I’ll just say that this follows the Fate scenario, but in great Nasuverse tradition, there will be ways to incorporate other relationships without breaking the whole true love idea. I’m a fan of all three scenarios and heroines for extremely different reasons, so don’t be expecting any hate from this corner. I absolutely love everything in this game and every character that appeared, period.
Escaping Fate
Chapter 2
The Addition
It’s winter now.*
February, to be more specific. Two years since the Holy Grail War. We celebrated Tohsaka’s birthday a few days ago, combined with a welcome home dinner after an extended trip to London. Although she had been gone for a good four months, I was glad to see that Yumi, still so quiet, smiled when Tohsaka first came through the door.
We had adjusted to our new ward for the most part, perhaps better than could be expected. It hadn’t taken long for Yumi to recover physically and after that she had shown interest in exploring the city. Sakura took it upon herself to show the girl around after school, and each time they returned for the evening, the more Yumi appeared to relax.
And while Sakura didn’t show any outward signs of it, the cloud of sorrow that hung over her since Illya passed had begun to dissipate.
I’m not sure, though, if it would be possible to look at this girl and not think of Illya, though.
The damage to Yumi’s nervous system had been extensive. It was something Tohsaka had pointed out, as she now believed that Archer’s appearance had been due to an overworked magical circuit; Yumi’s hair had lost all pigmentation and gone stark white, while her skin had taken on a splotchy, unhealthy pallor. It was an odd similarity to Illya’s albino appearance and Archer’s severe look, and no amount of healing looked like it would fix it.
A few weeks after taking her in, the three of us sat Yumi down and explained just what had happened to her after it was apparent her hair would not be regaining its original brown color. Though we skirted the Grail War issue, we explained how the three of us were magi and that Yuushi had been one as well. We told her the general idea of what he might have been doing to her and how we never intended to do anything of the sort. Through it all, Yumi had been silent, though she had nodded when Tohsaka and Sakura explained some of their complicated history, clearly having picked up on their familial relationship despite the different names.
So we were magi, and she had been a magus’ experiment.
And the girl quietly accepted her fate.
Maybe I finally started to understand why Tohsaka was so angry when she had learned of my past. If my lack of concern over what had happened was like Yumi’s lack of concern over why she had been tortured, I got it.
I really should have shot that guy between the eyes.
Tohsaka flicked me between the eyes.
“Are you paying any attention at all?” she complained.
I blinked and shook my head. “None whatsoever. Sorry.”
We were attempting to discern how to rework some of my Traced items and see how far we could modify them; ever since I had first used Caladbolg on Yuushi, Tohsaka had been interested in seeing if it was possible to do more than break the Phantasm and overload it for additional kick. She had apparently attended some lecture on advanced Alteration theory when in London and wanted to apply the ideas to what I did.
Of course, she forgot that I was absolutely useless as a magus.
Tohsaka crossed her arms and shook her head at me. “I’m telling you, if you only concentrated more, we could have this down!”
I shook my head in return. Every once in a while, I had to agree with a certain Servant in his assessment with his Master: Tohsaka just couldn’t quite identify with a dropout type like me. “I was concentrating earlier. But nothing I did could change it. The blueprint is clear in my mind and I can’t force myself to change it in any fashion.”
“You should be trying harder!”
Every once in a while, I thought of pinching her nose when she got like this. Just to see what she would do.
Of course, I never had the courage to. Because chances were, what she would do probably included a maiming.
“Sorry,” I said. “It just doesn’t seem to be working tonight.”
Tohsaka sighed, crossed her arms, and leaned back in her seat. Her expression lost its heat, though. “You’re thinking about Saber, aren’t you?”
I blinked at her and went to shake my head, but in bringing it up, I couldn’t help but do so.
My dream.
And the hope that maybe, in her dream, I had a place.
“You’re hopeless,” Tohsaka said. “Well, just…try to imagine it, anyway. You’re good at that much.”
Tohsaka gathered the sword images and blueprints she had brought from London—apparently they were documents on sword-shaped Mystic Codes—and piled them back onto her desk.
It still confused me to this day why she seemed to prefer this place to her own house. Although by square feet my house was just as large, Tohsaka’s was more to her style and already equipped with the various tools and measures for her work. Every so often, she had to bring a large bundle over to continue her work; it was often enough that I questioned why she didn’t just work out of her home to begin with.
Unlike the reasons Sakura didn’t like returning to the Matou house, I couldn’t fathom any kind of idea why Tohsaka felt better here.
“So,” Tohsaka started, and she looked askance, “is there anything I can do?”
I grinned at her.
No matter what, Tohsaka was never as ruthless as she thought. Even if they were awkward, whenever she let herself be sympathetic, it always made me smile. It was, after all, absolutely adorable.
“W-w-what are you thinking, with that kind of look?”
She was also awkward at receiving gratitude.
“Just being here is fine,” I said. Whatever her reasons for staying, I was glad to have her here.
The red that shot through her face almost managed to reach critical levels and match her ubiquitous shirt.
“Anyway, let me go practice with everything you’ve just shown me, at least. Maybe I’ll find something I just can’t do when you’re watching over my shoulder.” I climbed to my feet and made for the door.
I thought I heard her mutter “idiot” under her breath. Yet another thing to treasure.
So preferable to when she screamed it, anyway.
Trace, on.
The cold evening air helped counter the burning sensation whenever I Traced, so I stood in the middle of the back yard to practice. I tried not to think about how another magus had done so before in a similar manner, warming up by conjuring a bow and stretching with it in the same exact spot.
Unfortunately, my bow was not yet up to the standards of whatever it was he had created. Though I had the perfect image in my mind of what he had done, the composition of the material was still off; whatever odd metal he had created both his bow and armor out of was still out of my reach. It managed the purpose I needed it for—firing off Traced weapons—though my effective range was still terrible.
I brought the Orichalcum sword to mind and reconstructed it perfectly. It was a nice addition to the lengthy catalogue of weaponry I could bring to mind and was different from most of the other pieces. Like the Azoth sword, its composition was different to the forged and folded steel of many weapons and instead was constructed to feed prana into. If I could figure out how to actually make modifications to a weapon, it was a perfect candidate to start with, since it would take much more than I could possibly inject into it to break.
My body is made of swords.
“I am the bone of my sword.”**
The blade shifted in shape, like taking the image on a computer and stretching it lengthwise. I pulled until it was the exact length of an arrow, nocked the sword, and let it fly.
It struck the tatami I had set out as a target in the same place the human neck would be.
I sighed. It was not Alteration that occurred when I manipulated the blade into an arrow shape. Alteration involved the addition of properties that an item did not already have to begin with, like adding an additional ingredient to a dish. I could not do such a skillful thing; for me, it was more like rearranging the ingredients the original had to work better for what I needed it to do.
I thought that following the process of “arrow-izing” the blade might help, but that was a bust.
Letting the bow dissipate, I considered my options. Ultimately, it wasn’t important to me to figure out ways to Alter my arsenal if I could manage to safely make Broken Phantasms. The only problem on that issue was my inadequate bow, since I didn’t particularly want to risk using most Broken Phantasms while still holding them.
Tracing Kanshou and Bakuya, I thought about practicing that instead; the twin scimitars were about the only weapons I had successfully Broken in hand without causing major bodily harm to myself in the process.
“Shirou?”
I glanced at the porch and found Yumi watching me.
While I had never hidden my magic away from her, it occurred to me that Yumi had never seen me do anything more than Reinforce some household items for practice. And to be honest, I had wondered if the sight of a sharp object suddenly appearing in my hands would be cause for the girl to be upset.
Instead, I found her looking at the blades curiously.
I couldn’t think of an appropriate response though. “What?”
“Why are you holding swords?”
Well…that would take a while to explain. But since she wasn’t upset over it, I guess it didn’t matter if I showed her a little. “It’s the only magic I’m fairly practiced at. We mentioned ‘Projection’ before, right?”
Nodding, Yumi sat at the edge of the porch and watched me intently.
“This is kind of like that, something I specialize at. I call it ‘Tracing.’ I copy swords and other weapons I’ve seen before.”
“Why?”
I thought about how to word my response. I didn’t like explaining things in detail because I often got confused as to where I was. I can’t imagine what other people would feel. How Tohsaka managed it was a mystery to me. “You know in manga or a sentai series, how heroes always seem to have swords? I mean, if they have any kind of weapon at all, it’s usually a sword.”
She nodded.
“I specialize in swords because I want to be that kind of hero. The one that saves everyone.”
Yumi’s eyes fell into her lap. She stared at her own hands, perhaps the only part of her body that had been left untouched by experimentation. No scars adorned them and they did not have the splotchy complexion the rest of her skin had. “Nobody can save everyone.”
Again, I de-Traced the weapons in my hands and sat next to her. I always felt inadequate at being able to comfort her, but the whole point of taking her in had been to give it a try. “That’s true,” I said. “I’m only human, after all.”
I thought of sitting on this porch years ago with a person just as cynical. Yet, for his cynicism, his ideal had always been such a beautiful one.
“But wouldn’t it be a good thing if someone could save everyone?” I asked.
Yumi’s hands fisted as if clutching something. She nodded.
“I think so too. So, even if it is impossible, I want to aim for that dream.”*** I smiled at her. “So I make swords in the hopes that one day, they will be used for that purpose.” My smile probably went a little funny then. “Even if I’m pretty terrible at it.”
Though she listened to every word, Yumi remained quiet. For a moment, I thought that I had gone too far, told her too much. There was an extreme loneliness in her body language, the way she hunched in on herself that was unlike anything I had ever seen before. Sakura, when I had first met her, came close, but Sakura always had a sense that she was still trying to reach out to others in everything she did, even if she was scared. Yumi seemed to reach inward instead.
And now that Tohsaka had brought it up, I couldn’t help but think about it.
Saber reached inward as well.
I reached outward, to people like Yumi, the people I could possibly save.
“When…will you know?” Yumi asked, though her gaze remained in her lap. “If you reach it?”
I gave a helpless shrug. “I don’t know. I may never know.”
Yumi was silent after that, though the lost expression had faded. Now she just seemed confused.
Not that I blame her. My dream is a pretty foolish one, after all.
She didn’t understand.
Why pursue something impossible?
Why pursue something when you will never even know if you have achieved it?
She didn’t understand his dream at all.
Yet…
Even more…
She didn’t understand why, deep inside of herself, she felt comforted by those words.
She knew he had told her something important. Something so necessary that he could not exist without it. She knew, at least, for that, she would hold his goals dear.
But…
When she had first caught a glimpse of him, when she had first looked upon her savior from the world of pain, of endless removal and addition…
He had seemed so happy.
Happy to find her. Happy to save her.
She had been happy to find relief, to find escape. But he…he had not been happy just to see that she could be relieved and escape. He was happy just to have reached her.
She thought, even then, she wanted to have that same expression.
Not one of having the results of a deed be worth it…
But to have reached the deed in the first place.
Maybe…maybe then she could understand.
Why…
Why she felt, his confusing dream, his happy expression…
Why they seemed to trod on her very soul.
I retired to bed that night tired.
Tired and alone.
It was a very different feeling to me than the others, I’m sure.
When Sakura looked lonely, it broke my heart, that she could still be so distrustful of the world that had harmed her so. Even now, she would occasionally let that sad smile appear, despite everything that had improved between her and her sister, despite everything I did to remind her that I would give my left arm to make sure no harm came to her. I would try my best to be there for her, would push past her polite denials and find something to do with her, even if it was to just watch a movie or talk about school. And it was great to feel the extra strength behind an embrace of her hands to his at those times, the only sign that she understood.
When Tohsaka looked lonely, it made me a little angry, that a part of her may still feel a little unwelcome. It was often apparent on the day before her regular excursions to London: she would look at the daily scene of dinner in the house and her eyebrows would fall in a self-deprecating way. So I always tried to remind her to bring us souvenirs from her trip, that I expected such gifts, because I looked forward to them. And it was great to see her glare and hear her complain that she was not made of money and threaten that I would get nothing.
I feel alone…because she isn’t here.
The one person that could understand.
Nothing in me can replace you, I had said.
There was no fake I could replicate to do that.
Nor was there anything real that could stand there either.
Nothing but a memory, and everything of my dream.
I slept, and I dreamed. Of my sword, the one that most certainly, was not made of me.
**For those unfamiliar with the original visual novel: Shirou and Archer will on occasion literally think of one thing but say something completely different when invoking their spells. The entire UBW aria is in fact thought one way and said another quite often, and the translations are not meant to be exactly the same. Both literally think, “Karada wa tsurugi de dekite iru” for the first line of UBW, which translates as “His body is made of swords” while at the same time saying aloud, in English, “I am the bone of my sword.” This is not absolute, though, as occasionally, they will say the Japanese line over the English…so you’ll see Shirou zig-zag about in this story.
***If anyone has not heard “Imitation,” the song used in the trailers for the Unlimited Blade Works movie, please do. The lyrics are a perfect match for everything Shirou stands for.
Omake
Shirou glared at the computer. “We live in the information age, and yet still, I can’t find any signs of a suitable battle to join?”
“Shut up,” Rin said, pushing back so he stopped leaning so close over her shoulder. “I can’t concentrate with you so close.” She returned to hunching over the keyboard and leaning in to look at the screen.
After all, stupid technology would never be important enough to break out the glasses.
“Japanese Psychics in conflict with Magi of the Roman Catholic Church?” Rin asked, checking one news report.
“I think I’ve had enough fighting magic-wielding priests, thanks.”
Rin passed the mouse slowly over another. “Color gangs in Ikebukuro district of Tokyo?”
Shirou leaned in right where she had pushed him away from to begin with, but this time to clearly read the full text from the story. He sighed after a few moments. “I’m not exactly sure who I’d be saving. Though internet memes could boost my level of infamy.”
Rin scanned the article again. “What’s an internet meme?”
Impatiently, Shirou grabbed for the mouse, though Rin attempted to wrestle his hand away. “Anyway,” he said, when she had regained control, “go on.”
“Heroic Spirits fighting creatures from a place called the Crimson Realm…wait, no, that sounds like it’s made up.”
Shirou snickered. “You’re a witch, Tohsaka.”
Glare. “Your point being?”
“…Nevermind.”
“Well, then, mister smarty-pants, why don’t you look for something that might work? I don’t really know how to use this google-thingy anyway.” She crossed her arms and allowed Shirou to monopolize the mouse.
“Let’s see…Psychopomp swordsmen in conflict with Holy Quincy Family? They even have a picture of the latter…hey! The guy is using a bow!”
Rin squinted at the image. “I don’t know. Even in Eastern Thaumaturgical teaching, there is no kind of afterlife spirit. We return to Akasha when we die, period.” She paused, her head tilting in consideration. “But…that news report…there’s something familiar about him.”
“Must be all the crosses on his clothing. You have weird tastes, Tohsaka.”
“Says the guy drooling over the latest issue of Jump.”
Shirou glared right back at her. “They released an image of that author, Aoki Ko…I think I have a thing for blondes.”
Rin sighed. “Of course you do…”
Shirou ignored her “Though I really hate that new one by Fukuda…”
“Getting off-track.”
“Of blondes?”
Rin flung her head back and connected with Shirou’s nose.
See if she went out of her way to learn a sophisticated modern technological device for anyone ever again. Even if he was someone special.
“Thanks, Tohsaka. I never knew you considered me special.” He grinned at her widening eyes. “Oh, no, you didn’t say anything. Just, you know, I can tell exactly what you’re thinking whenever you go tsun-tsun.”
“What the hell is that?!”
“Tsun-tsun. You do know that you’re a Grade-S Tsunde—”
And while she may not have known it, Shirou certainly did, and remembered to flee the room upon this proclamation, when the average Tsundere began the violent tear through the building.
Converting /tmp/phpFVqW9v to /dev/stdout
With regards to pairings, I’ll just say that this follows the Fate scenario, but in great Nasuverse tradition, there will be ways to incorporate other relationships without breaking the whole true love idea. I’m a fan of all three scenarios and heroines for extremely different reasons, so don’t be expecting any hate from this corner. I absolutely love everything in this game and every character that appeared, period.
Escaping Fate
Chapter 2
The Addition
It’s winter now.*
February, to be more specific. Two years since the Holy Grail War. We celebrated Tohsaka’s birthday a few days ago, combined with a welcome home dinner after an extended trip to London. Although she had been gone for a good four months, I was glad to see that Yumi, still so quiet, smiled when Tohsaka first came through the door.
We had adjusted to our new ward for the most part, perhaps better than could be expected. It hadn’t taken long for Yumi to recover physically and after that she had shown interest in exploring the city. Sakura took it upon herself to show the girl around after school, and each time they returned for the evening, the more Yumi appeared to relax.
And while Sakura didn’t show any outward signs of it, the cloud of sorrow that hung over her since Illya passed had begun to dissipate.
I’m not sure, though, if it would be possible to look at this girl and not think of Illya, though.
The damage to Yumi’s nervous system had been extensive. It was something Tohsaka had pointed out, as she now believed that Archer’s appearance had been due to an overworked magical circuit; Yumi’s hair had lost all pigmentation and gone stark white, while her skin had taken on a splotchy, unhealthy pallor. It was an odd similarity to Illya’s albino appearance and Archer’s severe look, and no amount of healing looked like it would fix it.
A few weeks after taking her in, the three of us sat Yumi down and explained just what had happened to her after it was apparent her hair would not be regaining its original brown color. Though we skirted the Grail War issue, we explained how the three of us were magi and that Yuushi had been one as well. We told her the general idea of what he might have been doing to her and how we never intended to do anything of the sort. Through it all, Yumi had been silent, though she had nodded when Tohsaka and Sakura explained some of their complicated history, clearly having picked up on their familial relationship despite the different names.
So we were magi, and she had been a magus’ experiment.
And the girl quietly accepted her fate.
Maybe I finally started to understand why Tohsaka was so angry when she had learned of my past. If my lack of concern over what had happened was like Yumi’s lack of concern over why she had been tortured, I got it.
I really should have shot that guy between the eyes.
Tohsaka flicked me between the eyes.
“Are you paying any attention at all?” she complained.
I blinked and shook my head. “None whatsoever. Sorry.”
We were attempting to discern how to rework some of my Traced items and see how far we could modify them; ever since I had first used Caladbolg on Yuushi, Tohsaka had been interested in seeing if it was possible to do more than break the Phantasm and overload it for additional kick. She had apparently attended some lecture on advanced Alteration theory when in London and wanted to apply the ideas to what I did.
Of course, she forgot that I was absolutely useless as a magus.
Tohsaka crossed her arms and shook her head at me. “I’m telling you, if you only concentrated more, we could have this down!”
I shook my head in return. Every once in a while, I had to agree with a certain Servant in his assessment with his Master: Tohsaka just couldn’t quite identify with a dropout type like me. “I was concentrating earlier. But nothing I did could change it. The blueprint is clear in my mind and I can’t force myself to change it in any fashion.”
“You should be trying harder!”
Every once in a while, I thought of pinching her nose when she got like this. Just to see what she would do.
Of course, I never had the courage to. Because chances were, what she would do probably included a maiming.
“Sorry,” I said. “It just doesn’t seem to be working tonight.”
Tohsaka sighed, crossed her arms, and leaned back in her seat. Her expression lost its heat, though. “You’re thinking about Saber, aren’t you?”
I blinked at her and went to shake my head, but in bringing it up, I couldn’t help but do so.
My dream.
And the hope that maybe, in her dream, I had a place.
“You’re hopeless,” Tohsaka said. “Well, just…try to imagine it, anyway. You’re good at that much.”
Tohsaka gathered the sword images and blueprints she had brought from London—apparently they were documents on sword-shaped Mystic Codes—and piled them back onto her desk.
It still confused me to this day why she seemed to prefer this place to her own house. Although by square feet my house was just as large, Tohsaka’s was more to her style and already equipped with the various tools and measures for her work. Every so often, she had to bring a large bundle over to continue her work; it was often enough that I questioned why she didn’t just work out of her home to begin with.
Unlike the reasons Sakura didn’t like returning to the Matou house, I couldn’t fathom any kind of idea why Tohsaka felt better here.
“So,” Tohsaka started, and she looked askance, “is there anything I can do?”
I grinned at her.
No matter what, Tohsaka was never as ruthless as she thought. Even if they were awkward, whenever she let herself be sympathetic, it always made me smile. It was, after all, absolutely adorable.
“W-w-what are you thinking, with that kind of look?”
She was also awkward at receiving gratitude.
“Just being here is fine,” I said. Whatever her reasons for staying, I was glad to have her here.
The red that shot through her face almost managed to reach critical levels and match her ubiquitous shirt.
“Anyway, let me go practice with everything you’ve just shown me, at least. Maybe I’ll find something I just can’t do when you’re watching over my shoulder.” I climbed to my feet and made for the door.
I thought I heard her mutter “idiot” under her breath. Yet another thing to treasure.
So preferable to when she screamed it, anyway.
Trace, on.
The cold evening air helped counter the burning sensation whenever I Traced, so I stood in the middle of the back yard to practice. I tried not to think about how another magus had done so before in a similar manner, warming up by conjuring a bow and stretching with it in the same exact spot.
Unfortunately, my bow was not yet up to the standards of whatever it was he had created. Though I had the perfect image in my mind of what he had done, the composition of the material was still off; whatever odd metal he had created both his bow and armor out of was still out of my reach. It managed the purpose I needed it for—firing off Traced weapons—though my effective range was still terrible.
I brought the Orichalcum sword to mind and reconstructed it perfectly. It was a nice addition to the lengthy catalogue of weaponry I could bring to mind and was different from most of the other pieces. Like the Azoth sword, its composition was different to the forged and folded steel of many weapons and instead was constructed to feed prana into. If I could figure out how to actually make modifications to a weapon, it was a perfect candidate to start with, since it would take much more than I could possibly inject into it to break.
My body is made of swords.
“I am the bone of my sword.”**
The blade shifted in shape, like taking the image on a computer and stretching it lengthwise. I pulled until it was the exact length of an arrow, nocked the sword, and let it fly.
It struck the tatami I had set out as a target in the same place the human neck would be.
I sighed. It was not Alteration that occurred when I manipulated the blade into an arrow shape. Alteration involved the addition of properties that an item did not already have to begin with, like adding an additional ingredient to a dish. I could not do such a skillful thing; for me, it was more like rearranging the ingredients the original had to work better for what I needed it to do.
I thought that following the process of “arrow-izing” the blade might help, but that was a bust.
Letting the bow dissipate, I considered my options. Ultimately, it wasn’t important to me to figure out ways to Alter my arsenal if I could manage to safely make Broken Phantasms. The only problem on that issue was my inadequate bow, since I didn’t particularly want to risk using most Broken Phantasms while still holding them.
Tracing Kanshou and Bakuya, I thought about practicing that instead; the twin scimitars were about the only weapons I had successfully Broken in hand without causing major bodily harm to myself in the process.
“Shirou?”
I glanced at the porch and found Yumi watching me.
While I had never hidden my magic away from her, it occurred to me that Yumi had never seen me do anything more than Reinforce some household items for practice. And to be honest, I had wondered if the sight of a sharp object suddenly appearing in my hands would be cause for the girl to be upset.
Instead, I found her looking at the blades curiously.
I couldn’t think of an appropriate response though. “What?”
“Why are you holding swords?”
Well…that would take a while to explain. But since she wasn’t upset over it, I guess it didn’t matter if I showed her a little. “It’s the only magic I’m fairly practiced at. We mentioned ‘Projection’ before, right?”
Nodding, Yumi sat at the edge of the porch and watched me intently.
“This is kind of like that, something I specialize at. I call it ‘Tracing.’ I copy swords and other weapons I’ve seen before.”
“Why?”
I thought about how to word my response. I didn’t like explaining things in detail because I often got confused as to where I was. I can’t imagine what other people would feel. How Tohsaka managed it was a mystery to me. “You know in manga or a sentai series, how heroes always seem to have swords? I mean, if they have any kind of weapon at all, it’s usually a sword.”
She nodded.
“I specialize in swords because I want to be that kind of hero. The one that saves everyone.”
Yumi’s eyes fell into her lap. She stared at her own hands, perhaps the only part of her body that had been left untouched by experimentation. No scars adorned them and they did not have the splotchy complexion the rest of her skin had. “Nobody can save everyone.”
Again, I de-Traced the weapons in my hands and sat next to her. I always felt inadequate at being able to comfort her, but the whole point of taking her in had been to give it a try. “That’s true,” I said. “I’m only human, after all.”
I thought of sitting on this porch years ago with a person just as cynical. Yet, for his cynicism, his ideal had always been such a beautiful one.
“But wouldn’t it be a good thing if someone could save everyone?” I asked.
Yumi’s hands fisted as if clutching something. She nodded.
“I think so too. So, even if it is impossible, I want to aim for that dream.”*** I smiled at her. “So I make swords in the hopes that one day, they will be used for that purpose.” My smile probably went a little funny then. “Even if I’m pretty terrible at it.”
Though she listened to every word, Yumi remained quiet. For a moment, I thought that I had gone too far, told her too much. There was an extreme loneliness in her body language, the way she hunched in on herself that was unlike anything I had ever seen before. Sakura, when I had first met her, came close, but Sakura always had a sense that she was still trying to reach out to others in everything she did, even if she was scared. Yumi seemed to reach inward instead.
And now that Tohsaka had brought it up, I couldn’t help but think about it.
Saber reached inward as well.
I reached outward, to people like Yumi, the people I could possibly save.
“When…will you know?” Yumi asked, though her gaze remained in her lap. “If you reach it?”
I gave a helpless shrug. “I don’t know. I may never know.”
Yumi was silent after that, though the lost expression had faded. Now she just seemed confused.
Not that I blame her. My dream is a pretty foolish one, after all.
She didn’t understand.
Why pursue something impossible?
Why pursue something when you will never even know if you have achieved it?
She didn’t understand his dream at all.
Yet…
Even more…
She didn’t understand why, deep inside of herself, she felt comforted by those words.
She knew he had told her something important. Something so necessary that he could not exist without it. She knew, at least, for that, she would hold his goals dear.
But…
When she had first caught a glimpse of him, when she had first looked upon her savior from the world of pain, of endless removal and addition…
He had seemed so happy.
Happy to find her. Happy to save her.
She had been happy to find relief, to find escape. But he…he had not been happy just to see that she could be relieved and escape. He was happy just to have reached her.
She thought, even then, she wanted to have that same expression.
Not one of having the results of a deed be worth it…
But to have reached the deed in the first place.
Maybe…maybe then she could understand.
Why…
Why she felt, his confusing dream, his happy expression…
Why they seemed to trod on her very soul.
I retired to bed that night tired.
Tired and alone.
It was a very different feeling to me than the others, I’m sure.
When Sakura looked lonely, it broke my heart, that she could still be so distrustful of the world that had harmed her so. Even now, she would occasionally let that sad smile appear, despite everything that had improved between her and her sister, despite everything I did to remind her that I would give my left arm to make sure no harm came to her. I would try my best to be there for her, would push past her polite denials and find something to do with her, even if it was to just watch a movie or talk about school. And it was great to feel the extra strength behind an embrace of her hands to his at those times, the only sign that she understood.
When Tohsaka looked lonely, it made me a little angry, that a part of her may still feel a little unwelcome. It was often apparent on the day before her regular excursions to London: she would look at the daily scene of dinner in the house and her eyebrows would fall in a self-deprecating way. So I always tried to remind her to bring us souvenirs from her trip, that I expected such gifts, because I looked forward to them. And it was great to see her glare and hear her complain that she was not made of money and threaten that I would get nothing.
I feel alone…because she isn’t here.
The one person that could understand.
Nothing in me can replace you, I had said.
There was no fake I could replicate to do that.
Nor was there anything real that could stand there either.
Nothing but a memory, and everything of my dream.
I slept, and I dreamed. Of my sword, the one that most certainly, was not made of me.
Escaping Fate, The Addition, End
*Be glad I didn’t start with, “It’s spring now,” people that have played Heaven’s Feel. **For those unfamiliar with the original visual novel: Shirou and Archer will on occasion literally think of one thing but say something completely different when invoking their spells. The entire UBW aria is in fact thought one way and said another quite often, and the translations are not meant to be exactly the same. Both literally think, “Karada wa tsurugi de dekite iru” for the first line of UBW, which translates as “His body is made of swords” while at the same time saying aloud, in English, “I am the bone of my sword.” This is not absolute, though, as occasionally, they will say the Japanese line over the English…so you’ll see Shirou zig-zag about in this story.
***If anyone has not heard “Imitation,” the song used in the trailers for the Unlimited Blade Works movie, please do. The lyrics are a perfect match for everything Shirou stands for.
Omake
Shirou glared at the computer. “We live in the information age, and yet still, I can’t find any signs of a suitable battle to join?”
“Shut up,” Rin said, pushing back so he stopped leaning so close over her shoulder. “I can’t concentrate with you so close.” She returned to hunching over the keyboard and leaning in to look at the screen.
After all, stupid technology would never be important enough to break out the glasses.
“Japanese Psychics in conflict with Magi of the Roman Catholic Church?” Rin asked, checking one news report.
“I think I’ve had enough fighting magic-wielding priests, thanks.”
Rin passed the mouse slowly over another. “Color gangs in Ikebukuro district of Tokyo?”
Shirou leaned in right where she had pushed him away from to begin with, but this time to clearly read the full text from the story. He sighed after a few moments. “I’m not exactly sure who I’d be saving. Though internet memes could boost my level of infamy.”
Rin scanned the article again. “What’s an internet meme?”
Impatiently, Shirou grabbed for the mouse, though Rin attempted to wrestle his hand away. “Anyway,” he said, when she had regained control, “go on.”
“Heroic Spirits fighting creatures from a place called the Crimson Realm…wait, no, that sounds like it’s made up.”
Shirou snickered. “You’re a witch, Tohsaka.”
Glare. “Your point being?”
“…Nevermind.”
“Well, then, mister smarty-pants, why don’t you look for something that might work? I don’t really know how to use this google-thingy anyway.” She crossed her arms and allowed Shirou to monopolize the mouse.
“Let’s see…Psychopomp swordsmen in conflict with Holy Quincy Family? They even have a picture of the latter…hey! The guy is using a bow!”
Rin squinted at the image. “I don’t know. Even in Eastern Thaumaturgical teaching, there is no kind of afterlife spirit. We return to Akasha when we die, period.” She paused, her head tilting in consideration. “But…that news report…there’s something familiar about him.”
“Must be all the crosses on his clothing. You have weird tastes, Tohsaka.”
“Says the guy drooling over the latest issue of Jump.”
Shirou glared right back at her. “They released an image of that author, Aoki Ko…I think I have a thing for blondes.”
Rin sighed. “Of course you do…”
Shirou ignored her “Though I really hate that new one by Fukuda…”
“Getting off-track.”
“Of blondes?”
Rin flung her head back and connected with Shirou’s nose.
See if she went out of her way to learn a sophisticated modern technological device for anyone ever again. Even if he was someone special.
“Thanks, Tohsaka. I never knew you considered me special.” He grinned at her widening eyes. “Oh, no, you didn’t say anything. Just, you know, I can tell exactly what you’re thinking whenever you go tsun-tsun.”
“What the hell is that?!”
“Tsun-tsun. You do know that you’re a Grade-S Tsunde—”
And while she may not have known it, Shirou certainly did, and remembered to flee the room upon this proclamation, when the average Tsundere began the violent tear through the building.
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