Chapter 5: Mockingbird
It did not matter if Noel closed her eyes, she could not escape her. She had summoned her servant two days ago, a heretical practice, but one done on God's command. She should have been blessed by God– she has listened to what the Cardinal had commanded. That is what it said in Deuteronomy, the blessing, if you obey the commandments of the Lord your God which I command you today.
Had she not obeyed his commands? So why then had she been cursed?
She already knew the answer. For her pride. For her lack of faithfulness. Because she sought power not to serve the Lord but so that she could be an avenger. And God had cursed her. She was like Nebuchadnezzar, having been cursed to grow fur and eat the grass of the field, maybe not literally but the effect would be the same.
People would see her and laugh, they would know of her heresy. They would know that God had cursed her when they saw their servant. They would think her a hypocrite, when all she was trying to do was be just.
Noel had summoned a dead apostle. Her Heroic Spirit, a figure of legend who was supposed to be the pinnacle of humanity— the equals to the Dead Apostle Ancestors. And hers was their equal because it was one.
It was proof that mages were as much of monsters as the vampires. The pinnacle of their craft, their grand ritual to try to reach the level of God… and the very best that it had to offer was one of them. She would feel no guilt in prosecuting the heretics, they had chosen to side with monsters instead of humanity.
She looked down at the back of her hand. She was wearing white gloves now, but she could still see the outline of her command spells through it, as vivid as when they first formed after the summoning. They were twisted vile things, the three marks forming a shape reminiscent to a knot. One very familiar to her.
God was mocking her.
What exactly was she supposed to do now? That thing she had summoned was a monster. It would be best if she put it down. Otherwise, she would only allow what had happened to Lamanon to occur again. Except, this time she might not be unfortunate enough to survive.
But she couldn't do that… as much as she wanted to.
She had been sent to Fuyuki to participate in the Holy Grail War… She had been sent to win… And having a servant was essential to that. She wasn't like Ciel and a powerhouse capable of opposing them on her own. But surely the church would understand? She couldn't be expected to work with a dead apostle, could she?
They work with Merem Solomon and Ciel. She hated them for that. If she had a proper servant, perhaps Saint George, she could have been strong enough to defeat the both of them and Roa as well. She could have offered a strength greater than the undead so that they would never need to rely on monsters again, but could instead rely on her.
Useless enough to be excommunicated when you fail and have no one care. Unknown enough to not arouse suspicion from Kotomine. Stupid enough to be a heretic. It makes you the perfect patsy for when things go wrong.
The words of the prelate haunted her. She had done something heretical, and she knew what the consequences of that would be. Excommunication, she was disposable trash, that they had no need to keep around when she caused trouble.
And then she would have nowhere to go. Without the church's sacraments, there would be no way for her to fend for herself, not with dead apostles lurking. She had no family, all of them having died at the hands of Ciel. She had no friends outside of the church either… If she wanted a roof over her head and food on her table, she had to remain an executor.
Which meant fighting in the Grail War, for it was only if she returned victorious that she would be able to return at all.
And that meant working with that thing she had to call her servant.
Why had she agreed to participate again? She should have known that God would never have been as kind to her as it had sounded. She tugged hard on the end of her pony tail, gritting her teeth in discomfort. You know why.
Indeed she did. Ciel.
The bell rang out, sounding the end of Ms. Fujimura's class and the start of their lunch period.
"Aizome," one of the girls called out. She squinted at the girl who stood by her desk. Her hair was gray, it made her look thirty years older than the teenager was. "Do you want to eat lunch with us?"
What was her name again? She had been here for three days and while her sacrament might have made the rest of them believe she had been at the school since last year… It did not mean she knew who they were. Was this Makidera? "And who exactly would be joining the two of us?" She smirked, rising from her desk and gathering her supplies into her backpack.
"Kaede, Yukika, and maybe Ayako if she can stop moping about her missing bow for long enough to remember she needs to eat."
She exhaled softly. Not Tohsaka then. "I would love to. I'll go find you in the cafeteria once I finish packing up my stuff." The other girl bid her farewell and walked off. Himuro. Makidera was the one with short hair.
To think her decision to enroll at the local public school to blend in had worked out so poorly. Why did the second owner have to attend the same school as her? She was another Master in the Grail War almost certainly… And she was right in their lap… Without a servant to defend her.
Not only that, but Noel had accidentally enrolled herself in the wrong grade. When she was filling out the forms she had selected that she was in the eleventh grade since that was where she was at in the schooling the Vatican gave her… But Japan for whatever reason had the eleventh grade as a year ahead of her, whereas in Italy they had school go thirteen grades instead of twelve so she was off by a year.
And that put her in the same class as Rin Tohsaka, the only mage in the school. God really did hold no love for her. She deserved it, trying to use him just for her own vengeance.
And the one person that might break through her sacrament. She hadn't seemed to notice anything yet, but it was no guarantee that things would remain that way. Not that the girl was anything like Ciel, always absent minded and running from place to place. Jumpy with dark bags under her eyes every day. If all mages were as frightened as her then winning the war, even without a servant might be possible.
If any were like that monster though…
She sneered slightly as she exited the classroom.
When she entered the cafeteria she immediately made a dash towards one of the tables near the center where the group of girls from her class were sitting.
"Think about it this way, Ayako," Yukika was reassuring the red-haired archery captain when Noel arrived. "Since nobody knows what happened, you can just make up your own story. This can be the ghost of kyudo. Maybe it's some kid who died trying to stop muggers with a bow and arrow who just wanted to practice some more after death."
"I liked that bow," Ayako scowled. 'The ghost should have stolen a different one if he wanted to practice."
"Perhaps he just shared your incredible taste then," Noel added, taking her seat across from the stormy faced captain and next to Makidera and Himuro. "Can you really fault a ghost for that?"
"Yes," she answered coldly before breaking. "I really don't understand it…" she sighed. "What kind of person would break into the dojo and steal my bow, a target, a single arrow and nothing else? Like if you wanted a bow then just rob the treasury or something and buy one yourself!"
"Then it wasn't a person!" Makidera declared triumphantly, standing up holding a finger in the air. "It was a ghost taking revenge on you for neglecting your calling to be an archer to go read books instead!"
Noel rolled her eyes good naturedly. "You skipped archery to read?" She hadn't been at the school long, but even she had heard how obsessive the archery captain was. They had made regionals last year but got crushed after their star got injured.
Mitsuzuri looked over at her, and hung her head. "I was helping Tohsaka with a project," she answered tiredly, a clear sign that she had recited it many times before. "And I didn't skip, I just didn't stay late."
Typical vampire behavior, hypnotizing other weak willed people to do the busy work for them so that they could focus on their own pleasure. It should have been expected that Tohsaka would do the same as them, mages really weren't any different from monsters. Heretic. Her head throbbed.
"When you make a pattern of being the last to leave every day, being the first out is considered skipping," Himuro remarked dryly as she picked at her food.
"Shut up Kane,"' Ayako grumbled.
"Do you really have no leads on who did it?" Noel asked after a moment. From her limited experience with the burial agency as Ciel's partner, most ghost stories were just vampires or mages who were sloppy in covering their tracks. And it could be a lead in the Holy Grail War. "Do you know who was the last person at the dojo that night?"
"Matou was supposed to clean it, but he foisted it off on Emiya," she rolled her eyes. "Emiya swore that it was still there when he finished cleaning, and that he locked the doors behind him."
"Could Emiya have taken your bow?" Noel asked curiously between bites of her food.
The entire table laughed at her, and her face burned in embarrassment. "Emiya? Pfft that guy wouldn't have taken her knickers if she left them in his pocket." Makidera laughed.
Stupid. Ciel would have known better. She had been attending the school for nearly two years in the eyes of her classmates– making assumptions about a classmate's character might attract the attention of Tohsaka. Especially when it was in front of Tohsaka's pawn.
Mitsuzuri smacked Makidera in the back of the head– her face red. "Don't say things like that," she scowled.
"I–uh… I see," Noel stuttered looking back at her food and stuffing some in her mouth eagerly to avoid saying something stupid again.
"Emiya is the last person that would have stolen my bow. Aside from the fact that he already has his own, he is far too kind for that," Ayako explained. "He even offered to buy me a new one when he heard mine was missing."
"Ha," Makidera laughed uproariously. "Do you think if I were to accidentally lose my earrings he would offer to buy me new ones too?"'
"He probably would if you looked properly distraught," Himuro answered with a smile. "Although him giving you new diamond earrings might happen to make everyone believe you were dating."
Makidera gasped, horrified. "You wouldn't!"
"Would it really be that bad?" Noel teased, joining in on the fun. "I mean if he's so kind… and he's not bad looking? Surely, you could do worse?"
"What–" Makidera whirled on her, gaping for a moment. "I would never date Emiya— heck, I would rather date Matou! A guy has to at least show a little spine."
Mitsuzuri smacked her again. "That's too far. Emiya is still my friend, and a literal piece of seaweed is more attractive than Shinji Matou."
Makidera held up her hands defensively. "It was a joke, Miss Badass Captain Lady, I swear!"
Noel giggled with the rest of them at the friendly banter. This was nice. She caught sight of her gloved hand and flinched. That was the past, she would never get it back.
"You really thought Emiya might have stolen my bow?" Mitsuzuri asked Noel after a moment, her eyes narrowed. "How could you have gone here for two years and not realized how… not him that would be?"
Noel shrugged as casually as she could manage. "Honestly? I just assumed the nice guy thing was just an act to get girls to go out with him. I never really cared to speak to him before because of that."
"If it's an act, then he's a fool," Himuro answered snidely. "There are at least four girls in the school with crushes on Emiya who would immediately say yes if he asked them out."
"At least four?" Noel asked with a wry grin. "Do tell."
"Hoya, Krishna, Matou, and one I won't be sharing." She cast a sidelong glance at Mitsuzuri.
"What!?" Makidera exploded once more. It was probably a testament to how often she did it that nobody in the cafeteria looked their way at the shout. "You can't just refuse to share a name!"
Himuro said nothing, just silently sipped her milk.
"That last one wouldn't happen to be you, would it, Himuro?" Noel leaned in, grinning like a shark.
Her face turned more red than Mitsuzuri's hair. "D-don't be ridiculous. I'm not even slightly interested in him."
"It is you, isn't it!' Makidera pounced on her.
"You know," Mitsuzuri drawled. "If you want me to… I could give Emiya a helpful push for you…"
"Don't be ridiculous," Himuro glared. "I don't want to date Emiya."
"If you say so," Makidera replied in a sing song voice, taunting the girl.
"Still…" Noel spoke up, sparing the other girl from her embarrassment. "Matou, huh? I didn't realize he swung that way."
They all laughed at her joke. "His sister," Saegusa supplied between giggles. "Not him… although it would explain his obsession."
"Imagine how heartbroken all of that tool's admirers would be—" Makidera chortled. "Him choosing to be with a guy instead of any of them."
"How he has admirers is beyond me," Mitsuzuri grumbled.
"He's handsome and confident," Himuro answered with a slight blush. "Some women– not me, of course, think that is all you need in a man."
"Idiots," Mitsuzuri moaned in reply.
They resumed eating, the conversation settling down for a moment. "So my bow was stolen by a ghost… That's really what we are going with…" She pushed around the last of the rice in her bento with her chopsticks. "I suppose it's at least more exciting than a common thief— and honestly, it might even make more sense…"
"We need to make this the most exciting ghost story in all of Fuyuki," Makidera declared, pulling out a notebook. "An ancient archer returned from the dead to enact vengeance on the ones who murdered him— stole your bow as vengeance because it was carved from the same tree as his."
"Or the ghost is a vigilante," Saegusa chimed in, her voice shaking slightly. "He is using your bow to be a hero and take down the Yakuza."
"Or it could be a girl who was murdered by her parents!" Makidera shot back. "They didn't approve of her practicing archery so she came back as a ghost to kill them and everyone who made fun of her for it!"
"The vigilante could be one of the missing children on the news," Saegusa countered. "They took the bow to take down the person who took them and bring them to justice." The two argued back and forth, Makidera getting louder and louder, but Saegusa held her ground, the usually shy girl adamant that the missing weapon was being used for good now.
"Don't you think that Ayako should get to decide what kind of ghost stole her bow?" Himuro interrupted them with a cough. "It was hers after all."
"I don't know," Mitsuzuri mused, chewing on the end of her chopstick. "None of your options really sound that exciting, y'know? Like the best ghost stories all have a sense of mystery to them… and your ideas just don't…" She turned to the last occupant at their table. "Any ideas, Aizome?"
Noel leaned back, glancing down at her gloved fingers. "Just Noel is fine," she amended slightly. "Does Fuyuki have a lot of ghost stories?" She asked after a moment. "Perhaps, one of them could serve as inspiration."
"You don't know the stories!?" Mitsuzuri was aghast. "How could you live without knowing… Oh you poor sheltered child," she placed a hand over Noel's and patted it. Noel wasn't sure if it was meant to be comforting or mocking.
"I wish I didn't know," Saegusa grumbled.
"You're the one who brought up the idea of it being a ghost," Mitsuzuri reminded her.
"I was just trying to cheer you up…" she whispered.
"Well you have," Mitsuzuri smiled. "Now shush and let me tell the story.
"This story takes place in Shinto, at the Semina Apartments in Room 2 of Floor 11." Mitsuzuri began, her voice dropping an octave.
"Not this one," Saegusa moaned, hiding her head in her hands.
Makidera nodded in agreement. "This one is so distasteful. Tell a different scary story."
"This is the best one–" she argued. "If we're going to educate Noel at all, then this is the best place to start."
"It's the scariest… you should start her off with a friendly ghost."
"Pfft," Mitsuzuri waved her off. "Where is the fun in that?"
"I want to hear this one," Noel added and it was sealed.
"That was the residence of the man known as Mr. A. He was a former student at this very school who had just turned twenty. He He came from a wealthy family, but this was his first time on his own, his family paying for a rather uppity four-bedroom apartment."
"Mr. A was an introvert– or perhaps more accurately, anti-social. He never was one to care about friends, or even crave any human interaction at all. He shut himself in his room and never left except for his classes at the university. Not even to see his family. He had no need to work with his parents' funds, so he just wallowed in his solitude. And Mr. A was happy with his new life."
"Only two things bothered him about his new home. The long hallways leading to the entrance from his living room and the neighbors. Another family had moved into the neighboring apartment shortly after him. A man and his wife, and their young daughter."
"When he first moved in he had loved the idea of the hallway. An extra barrier between him and the outside world that he sought to avoid. It was five meters long, and went in a straight line– no storage rooms and no bathroom to be found anywhere on it– just a long entrance. But there was an oversight in the design– it had been made without any lights. Not only was there no overhead lights, but there was not even a single outlet in that hallway for him to plug in his own lamp."
"All that Mr. A knew of them was their names. The building was shaped like an L with only two apartments on each floor. Sometimes, Mr. A would see the couple at the entrance when he occasionally left to get groceries, but he rarely would see the girl alone by herself."
"Big brother, won't you push the button for me?" The girls would ask whenever they met. Everytime they crossed paths without the couple there, it would seem as if she was waiting for him– for him to press the button on the elevator every time he went out. It wasn't like she couldn't reach the buttons— she could. They were slightly above her head– but if she lifted her arm, she would have no trouble hitting it. But she insisted on waiting for him, refusing or perhaps incapable of lifting the arms out from under her cloak."
"Mr. A had learned her name, but he had not cared to remember it. All he remembered her by was the nickname, Little Red Writing Hood– a name he had given her because of the red hooded cloak she always wore."
"Mr. A was an introvert who had no interest in people whatsoever," Mitsuzuri reiterated. "As long as his own life of leisure wasn't threatened, he would ignore the outside world. He had heard arguments on the other side of the wall most nights. The sound of the Red Hood's tears often lulled him to sleep. He could hear pained screams sometimes when he woke up. He had seen the bruises on Little Red's face in the lobby, and the limp in her leg that had her hobbling away from him when they reached the eleventh floor."
"But Mr. A did not care. He ignored the signs of abuse and instead continued to hide away in his room. As long as the family didn't threaten his easy life, he saw no reason to inform any authorities. That would mean dealing with people, and that is something that Mr. A wanted to avoid."
"But one night it was especially loud. He could hear a bloodcurling scream. He could hear the crying like the song of a siren. Then the sound of a door being torn open so violently it rattled against the wall. There was an incessant pounding against Mr. A's door."
"At first he intended to get up and calmly tell his neighbors to behave like reasonable human beings. But as soon as he made to stand, he thought better of it. It would probably end soon, and it was none of his business. He instead turned the TV up louder and by the time he went to bed, the hallway was silent once more."
"The next day Mr. A learned that there had been a family suicide next door. It was the first time he had ever spoken to the police. Last night, after their argument, the madam had murdered her husband with a blade. After slashing Little Red Writing Hood with the blade, she took her own life. When questioned about it, Mr. A denied having heard anything, saying that he had slept through it all."
"Yet, when the cop was leaving, Mr. A had stopped to ask him one more question. What happened to the daughter? The cop explained with a heavy heart that they had analyzed the blood on the weapon, leaving no doubt that she had been stabbed. They thought that the wound had to be fatal… But they never found her corpse. Not in the room, nor in the entranceway she had run into."
"It wasn't hard for them to figure out what had happened from there. The girl had gotten stabbed, and afterwards, she had tried to run. She wandered through the hallway but the trail stopped right in front of the elevator. The cops questioned why she didn't use the elevator. They also questioned why she didn't ring his doorbell. Mr. A was the only person who could answer both of those questions, but he did not give an answer so the cops left, the case cold."
"Several days later, late at night, Mr. A started noticing a strange noise. The noise itself wasn't loud, if he didn't pay attention to it, he probably could have ignored it. He convinced himself it was just the wind shaking the window. But the noise came back the next night. Then the night after that. Bang. Bang." Mitsuzuri pounded her fist against the table.
"It was a noise he could barely hear– practically nonexistent, yet it was getting on his nerves. And then he realized that the noise was not actually coming from the window– but that long hallway without any lights. He brought himself to the door and asked who was there."
"He received no response. The noise got louder. He looked through the peephole, just his ever clean entranceway, not a person in sight… But there were red specks on the floor that looked a bit like blood."
"HIs ears throbbed painfully, the noise now as loud as a drum. There was no one in the entrance… but the noise did not stop. He tried checking the peephole again, the stains of red plastered against his eyeballs. He shifted his head to see a bit deeper, at a new angle. And just below the peephole he saw something, a red cloth… a red hood."
"He ran back down the long hallway and tried to shut himself in his bed, his pillow pressed over his face in an attempt to muffle out the noise. He eventually fell into a fitful sleep, his thoughts plagued by the girl. The next night, the noise was back, and Mr. A went to the peephole again. He did not open the door, but he saw her hood again when he looked at the right angle."
"The noise got worse as the days wore on, once it had been so quiet he thought he had imagined it, but now it was like a red hot poker searing against his brain. With each passing day, he felt like he was trapped. He could hear the noise now at every hour. So one night, he came to a decision. He would open the door and see what was waiting for him for himself."
"He walked down the long hallway, the floor creaking underfoot. With shaky hands he pushed the door open… And there was nothing there. No one at all. The knocking was silenced, there had never been nothing. It has all been his imagination. Just an illusion from the guilt he had felt without realizing."
"He stepped back inside and the door slid shut. He wiped off his sweat drenched forehead and turned around to head to the couch and watch some TV before bed. But he froze… For at the end of the long dark hallways there was somebody…"
"They wore a familiar red hood… Their eyes were hollow and glassy, and their skin pale. They were drenched in blood. And in that moment, Mr. A knew that it would be the last thing he saw before his death. The girl smiled at him, her teeth dripping with blood."
"Big brother, the button! She pleaded."
'The next day Mr. A had vanished. His apartment was completely abandoned. The door was locked, but the keys remained on his bedside table. All of his wealth and possessions were still in the apartment. There were no signs of blood, no signs of struggle– nothing. It was like he had just vanished into thin air." Mitsuzuri folded her hands on the table and fell silent, a slight smile on her face.
"And… The part that Ayako left out is that Mr. A's brother says that he merely left on a journey of self discovery. He wasn't murdered by some ghost." Despite her words, Makidera was pale at the end of the tale.
"Please never tell that one again," Saegusa mumbled. "I hate that one."
Mitsuzuri beamed at their chiding as if it was the highest of praise. "So what did you think, Noel? How was that for your first Fuyuki ghost story?"
"It was good," Noel smiled, not showing a trace of fear. "When was this story supposed to have taken place?" It was likely that this was the work of a dead apostle and Kotomine had simply botched the cleanup, leaving too many missing holes in cleaning up the evidence of their attack.
"Three years ago," Mitsuzuri answered without missing a beat. "Finally someone enjoys a good horror story, even a little bit." That was somewhat recent then, perhaps it wouldn't be remiss to check the apartments and make sure they were all gone.
"I would love to hear more… Although something more recent is more fun… I like to imagine that the monsters in the stories are still out there. The fear is what makes it fun… yeah?" Noel added hesitantly. The truth is Noel just wanted leads on monsters and having Mitsuzuri tell her these fun stories that terrified their friends was a decent way of keeping her head down for those without attracting any attention.
Mitsuzuri grinned. "Oh there's this one–"
"No!" Saegusa shrieked, her face sunken. "No more horror stories– we're trying to make our own, remember? For your bow?"
Mitsuzuri frowned. "Oh right… Any ideas after that inspiration, Noel?"
"Murder is a boring motivation," Noel declared. "You want the thief to be more human than that– like Mr. A and Little Red Writing Hood in your story. You want people to empathize with both sides and feel the horror as more than just a flinch. Just a thief doesn't inspire any real fear– regardless of his goals."
"Exactly!" Mitsuzur agreed. "You get it! Man, where have you been my entire life? Have you really been hiding under my nose this whole time?"
Noel swallowed painfully, her eyes shifting away from theirs. "I was just shy… But my grandparents wanted me to be more extraverted… so I'm trying…"
Thankfully, the other girl seemed to buy it. "You'll have to hang with us more often then, everyone should have friends. On Sunday we're planning on going to the Mall if you want to join us"
Noel bit her lip to stop herself from frowning. "I would love to, but I'm busy that day– maybe another week?"
"Don't worry about it," Makidera waved her off. "It's not like you're going to go anywhere, is it?"
"O-of course not?" The back of her neck was damp with sweat. How did Ciel lie and act innocent so easily? Was that just her sinful nature as an undead?
There was a sudden commotion as students swarmed to the window overlooking the courtyard, after one person called out for another to take a look, and they called to their friends and so on. "Let's go see!" Makidera demanded, running over to the window. Himuro shrugged and went to follow, the rest of them slowly trailing after her.
Noel paled at the sight. Standing outside the school was that thing. It wore that stupid pink dress, with all the frills and flowers on it. And that big pink and white top that covered the horns that Noel knew marked it as a monster. The earrings were also pink, as was the hair. Noel had never hated a color more.
What is it doing here? Her nails sliced through the palm of her hand as she stared in abject horror. It was not idle either. The thing was twirling about, acting like a carefree child, dancing for a crowd of students in the courtyard. It preened under the attention, a mocking grin on its duplicitous face.
It was no wonder that a crowd had formed. To the eyes of the unaware masses, it was just a cute and exotic child, dressed up for fun who had wandered to the school randomly. A girl there to perform for her captive audience with a bright smile across her face. Only Noel knew the truth.
"Idiot," Noel cursed racing out of the cafeteria and down the stairs. Why had she ever trusted that a dead apostle would listen to anyone?
"Where are you going–" her companions called after her, but Noel barely heard them. She barreled down the stairs, three steps at a time and was on the ground floor almost immediately.
"I don't know who you think you are, but you cannot be here during school hours, young miss," the student council president, Issei Ryuudou scolded her. "You need to leave."
"I'm Elisabeth!" the servant declared proudly. Noel flinched at the sound of its voice. Foolish creature. "Do you want to hear me sing now?"
"I want you to go home," Ryuudou insisted, pushing his glasses up his nose. "This is a school, not a concert."
"You're being mean," the servant glared, but then that glare dissolved into a monstrous grin. "Piglet!" It screeched, skipping towards Noel, giggling slightly.
Noel felt the inside of her pocket for the black key she carried on her. How kind of the vampire to remind her that it considered her as nothing but an animal… The feeling was mutual. "What are you doing here?" she growled between gritted teeth.
"I got bored," it answered simply, its tongue darting out to lick at its fangs. It was probably just her imagination, but Noel could have sworn there was blood on them. "So I came to see you, Piglet!"
"You got bored… I ordered you to stay… with our grandparents…" Noel's voice dropped as she realized the audience they had. The last thing she wanted was to appear even more suspicious to Tohsaka… Maybe she wouldn't recognize the girl as a servant? Who was she kidding, Noel was doomed.
"Ahem," Ryuudou coughed.
Noel flushed. 'It– err uh… she's my cousin… it is… autism," she mumbled, unable to meet the student council president's eyes.
"Ah," Ryuudou made a noise of understanding. "While you have my sympathies Ms. Elisabeth… you still can not be here. I'll have to ask you to vacate the premises immediately."'
"No," it snapped. "You are not the boss of me!" The thing really was trying to sell their spoilt child act. "If Piglet can be here then so can I. I have to be here to protect her!"
Noel wanted to die. She had almost had normal friends again… and another dead apostle had ruined it. Again. "We're both going home… I can't let you wander alone," she decided. It was the only choice she had to end this all before it got messy– or worse, Tohsaka got involved. It was bad enough already that the vampire known as Elisabeth Bathory had revealed its real name to the entire school.
Ryuudou squinted at her before nodding slightly. "It wouldn't be safe for her to walk back home. Go," he ordered. "Just see that this does not happen again."
Noel nodded mutely.
"Alright, break it up you people!" Ryuudou shouted at the gathered crowd. "Nothing more to see here and class resumes in five minutes!"
Noel didn't chance a glance back at the school, she already had her bag with her anyways, and she did not want to see them mocking her– or worse more adoration of her cousin. "C'mon," she grumbled. Her hands shook whether in fear or rage, Noel honestly did not know anymore.
–
Sakura wasn't sure how to feel anymore. Was she supposed to be happy or sad? Angry or at peace? Laugh or cry? How was one supposed to react when their entire world had turned upside down?
It had been four days since she had sent Rider away… and she had thought that the beating and one night in the pit was the worst that she would suffer for it. She hadn't even been sent there once in the days since. But that had changed when she returned home after Archery practice.
"Will you recall your servant and transfer command to your brother?" Her grandfather had asked once more.
Sakura couldn't have even if she wanted to… and a part of her did… But she couldn't… and she wouldn't risk Shirou… Especially not when he had command seals of his own– and would be drawn into the war because of it. She shook her head slightly, unable to give voice to those thoughts.
"Very well," her grandfather sighed, tapping his cane on the ground. "I am disappointed in your decision, child, but I suppose it is yours to make. If you do not wish to be a Matou then leave. I will not risk my immortality to the hands of a girl with divided loyalties."
"What..?" Sakura hadn't believed what she was hearing. Even now, she still didn't. "You are…"' Her words failed her. She had expected to be thrown back in the pit, maybe left there forever. She had expected her hand to be removed to take the command spells from her— it was what she deserved.
"Leave," her grandfather repeated, his words echoing. "You have five minutes to vacate the premises. If I spot you on these grounds after that, you will be treated as any other tresspasser."
So she had left, heading for the only place she could possibly call home now that hers was taken from her. Her hand reached up to adjust her bow. The only place, she reiterated. She was going to get to live with Shirou… and Aimée.
It was a bittersweet feeling for certain. She had betrayed her family. She had crushed her brother. She knew that it had been wrong of her— yet she had done it anyway. First she had stolen his position as heir, then his magic circuits, and now his servant. She deserved his wrath, and she would not shy away from that.
She had betrayed her grandfather far more though. He had taken her in when her father did not want her, and provided her with not just a roof over her head, but given her the same position as her sister. She was made the heir to the Matou line– given the crest worm that housed all of their legacy… She was closer to her grandfather than anyone… and while he might hurt her— it was his due as the one who had raised her. And the cost of being a Matou… And she had betrayed him. Stolen his wish when he had spent years working towards it…
Because she was scared that Shirou would die.
She really was a disgusting person.
What made it worse was the smile that she had to fight to keep off her face. Regardless of the reason and the consequences, she was still going to go see her Senpai. She was going to see him everyday— the first thing when she woke up, and the last thing before she slept. And no matter why it had occurred, that at least was a dream come true.
She knocked on the door to Shirou's house. She had a spare key, but she would rather see him at the door than barge in unannounced. Her stomach fluttered painfully with anxiety.
The door slid open.
Waiting on the other side was not the man she was here to see. It was Aimée who had answered the door for him, her hair now done up in twintails similar to how Rin wore her hair usually.
"Sakura," Aimée beamed at her before pulling her into a hug. Sakura stiffened at the contact, especially when their cheeks rubbed against each others. Aimée pulled back slightly so she could peck Sakura on both cheeks. "I'm happy you are here."
Sakura nodded, her voice gone as she tried to quell her embarrassment. "Is Shirou here? I wanted to speak with him."
"Afraid not," Aimée sighed. "He's late coming home again… I don't think he likes me being here," she whispered conspiratorily as she stepped aside to let Sakura enter. "You're obviously welcome to stay with me while you wait for him to return home… it might be a while though."
Sakura followed her inside, leaving her shoes at the door. "Is he alone?" her voice was hoarse.
"He hasn't summoned a servant yet, if that is what you are asking," Aimée rolled her eyes, heading towards the kitchen. Her stomach twisted. It felt like an intrusion seeing anyone but her and Shirou moving about in there. This was their space.
She quashed that feeling– Aimée was her friend, and only there because she asked her to be. "You should be with him then," her voice sounded hollow, her words cold.
"I followed him to school," Aimée revealed. "I've checked on him four more times throughout the day– and I have a familiar planted in his bag so that I can respond to any sudden distress and so that I can check on him again. As long as he can survive the two minutes it will take me to reach him, that is." She pulled a pair of cups out of the cupboard. "So far it's all been false alarms, but I have been as diligent as I can be."
Sakura frowned. "You should have just placed a bounded field on him to alert you to both danger and his location at all times."
"I considered it," Aimée sighed. "But any competent mage who got close enough would be able to detect it– and he does share a class with Tohsaka. According to Ms. Fujimura, they even sit next to each other in class…" She lowered her voice to a whisper. "Ms. Fujimura even told me that they sometimes like to stare at each other in her class when they think that no one is looking."
Sakura flinched. "I assumed that you didn't want your sister to pursue darling Shirou," she barreled on, unaware of the pain that her words caused. "A familiar is better– more subtle. A single rose petal at the bottom of his bag. Unless Rin wants to steal his bag in search of his diary or something, she won't detect it."
"You should still be with him— what if you're not fast enough?"
"Tea?" Aimée offered.
Sakura gave a slight nod and watched as Aiée poured the drinks. She passed a cup to Sakura and then folded her arms under her chest, leaning back against the counter. "I would like to be with him… but until Ms. Fujimura has finished enrolling me at your school, it's not exactly easy for me to find an excuse for following him."
Sakura hummed noncommittally and took a sip of her tea. The taste was floral and pleasant, but far from as overpowering as she remembered from the last time when Aimée had made the tea. She could see the logic behind what Aimée was saying… but it still felt inefficient.
Sakura loved her Shirou, but she was not blind to his faults. Shirou might have been a mage by technicality, but it was in name only. She had seen the results of his attempts at magecraft many times– and it left a lot to be desired. His strengthening would give him ten seconds of borrowed life against a mage like Rin… It would give him three seconds against a servant…
And her Senpai was a hero– he might not be as strong as the ones in the legends, but he was one. She still remembered when she was eight and some high schoolers had tried to rob her. Shirou, just ten himself at the time, had tried to fight all four of them himself. He had lost, but he had kept them occupied for long enough that Taiga had shown up and driven them off– saving her.
Shirou hadn't cared about the odds… he just cared about doing the right thing. That would not change regardless of who it was who he faced. And that would get him killed when up against Heroic Spirits. It was only a matter of time until he stumbled across one feeding on children, or worse attacking a Master— and Shrou would try to interject.
And he would die.
"You need to be with him," Sakura repeated firmly. "Find an excuse or watch him from the rooftop– I don't care."
"My presence will only attract more suspicion if he doesn't want me there," Aimée reminded her of what she already knew. She looked out towards the window. "Unless you want to tell him…"
"No," Sakura denied immediately. "It's better if he doesn't know."
"Is it?" Aimée pressed. "Or just easier?"
Sakura squirmed. "I don't want him to know," she insisted. If he knew, he would never look at her with the same warmth in his eyes or that gentle smile that pulled at the corner of his eyes.
She had lied to him for years. Hid the truth of who she was— what she was. She had hidden that she was disgusting, that worms lived inside of her. She had hidden what her magecraft entailed– and what it demanded.
Shinji was disgusted by her– and so was her former sister. She would turn around and head the other way when Sakura tried to approach her in the halls. She would stare at Sakura from afar but when Sakura tried to talk to her, she would make an excuse and leave.
Why wouldn't Shirou respond the same way when he learned how tainted she was? How broken? Why wouldn't he recoil in disgust when he learned that she betrayed her family? The ones who had taken her in and raised her? Who gave her a chance to learn magecraft, and even be an heir?
Or worse, would he accept her and reject her family? Would he try to protect her from her grandfather or bring him to justice? If he did… he would die.
"He will learn eventually," Aimée said the quiet part out loud. "You can't keep this from him, forever."
Sakura said nothing.
"Unless he summons a divine spirit, there will come a time when he will die if I don't intervene– and he will have questions when I do…" Aimée insisted. "But I suppose I could just imply that I was hired to protect him, and refuse to elaborate on who hired me or divulge if you're a mage– no matter how much he asks."
Sakura exhaled loudly, a smile stretching across her features. "Thank you."
"I told you before, you're my friend, Sakura. I would do anything to see you smile," her voice was warm and Sakura believed every word of it. She knew that she only thought so because she had to… but it was nice to pretend that someone could care for her so much even knowing the truth of what she was.
"Now drink your tea," Aimée scolded.
"I'm not hurt," Sakura corrected her. Zouken hadn't let Shinji arm her since the night she had betrayed him– nor had he lifted a hand against her himself.
"This one isn't a healing brew," the corner of her lip tilted up in a smirk. "I just assumed that you would prefer not to have your tea cold. If your preference is for iced tea, I'll prepare that next time."
"Oh," Sakura flushed and took a long drink of the tea.
Aimée giggled at her embarrassment, and after a moment, Sakura joined her in the levity.
"So do you know what time Shirou will be back?" Sakura asked after a long moment.
Aimée glanced over at the clock hung on the wall and then shrugged. "Four hours maybe?"
"Four hours?" Sakura whispered. It was already nearly 6 PM.
"He came back at 11:23 last night and was at 9:51 the night before that," Aimée explained. "As I said, I don't think he likes me being here."
He'll just have to get used to it. "What could he possibly be doing so late?" Sakura wondered aloud.
"Right now he's at Copenhagen," Aimée supplied. "After that I would imagine he heads to Fuyuki Central Park to stare at the moon as he has the past two nights. Sometimes he stops back here to grab something from the shed before leaving again."
What could Shirou possibly be doing at the park for so long every night? Sakura knew that he had lost his home and memories in the fire, so it was likely that he had once lived there. But he didn't remember that place, and when Fujimura had asked him about it, he said he didn't want to know who he was before the fire or live on what might've been. As far as she knew, he had never gone there to mourn before.
Was it because of the Grail War? Could he sense that it was starting again? That there might be a second fire? Or had he been told about it? Could Shinji have told him as revenge for her stealing his servant away?
"If you need to speak with him, we could just go find him instead of waiting all night," Aimée offered, pulling her out of her thoughts.
"Go find him?" Sakura repeated her slowly, a smile slowly blooming like a flower as the calendar turned to spring. She nodded. "Let's do that…"
"Great!" Aimée beamed at her. "This will be fun, let's get going." She tugged on Sakura's hand and dragged her towards the door.
They walked together, side by side through the streets of Fuyuki, slowly making their way towards the liquor store where Shirou worked. The cold January winds mussed up her hair. Perhaps she should have brought a jacket.
"So how have things been at home?" Aimée asked, her accent thick.
"Fine," Sakura replied after a moment. That hardly encapsulated any of it.
"Your brother isn't being too hard on you?" Aimée pushed.
"No," Sakura ducked her head. "He was mad at first… but now… he's just disgusted. He sneers whenever he sees me, but he hasn't laid a hand on me for days… The worst he's done is threaten Shirou." And without a servant, he had no teeth to enforce that. Rider wouldn't let him.
A shiver ran down her spine. You will have your Servant in due time, my boy. We merely have to be... creative. Zouken didn't say things idly… Was that a plot to steal Rider…. Or something worse? Was they why she had been kicked out?
But it didn't matter… Shirou would have Rider to defend him… and he would have his own servant, as much as she wished otherwise. Shinji couldn't go after him– no matter how much he postured that he could.
And the Makiri could only have one Master— that was how the system was designed— and for better or worse, they had chosen Sakura to represent them. And she had betrayed her family.
"That's good…" Aimée exhaled, linking her arm with Sakura's. "Although I would much prefer that he doesn't threaten our darling Shiroh."
Sakura's guts wrenched but she nodded silently.
"It's good to hear that you are still safe," Aimée continued, not noticing her pain. "I feared they would punish you for your love."
Sakura flushed at the phrasing. Hadn't they? She was just broken enough that she considered being essentially disowned as a reward rather than a punishment.
They arrived at Copenhagen shortly and didn't even have to go inside to find Shirou. He was out front, drenched in sweat that caused his shirt to cling tightly to his muscular chest. He had a barrel over his shoulder that he was moving inside after unloading it off of a truck.
Sakura swallowed heavily, her mouth dry. How could she possibly think that she had any right—
"Shiroh," Aimée purred, her accent rolling the r.
He looked up and took a step back, his face adding a bit of color. "Ah-Aimée," he grunted, before his eyes saw the one behind her. "Sakura." He set the barrel of wine down on the cement in front of him. "What brings the two of you here?"
"Isn't it obvious, Shirou?" Sakura grit her teeth at Aimée's over exaggerated accent that made her sound so much more… sensual. "We came to see you."
"I am working right now," Shirou replied evenly. "You shouldn't be with me– err here."
Aimée giggled at that, but it was Sakura who found her voice. "I wanted to speak with you, Senpai."
Shirou's expression cooled. He took a slight step towards her. "Of course, anything. What is it?"
"Can I…" she trailed off, her entire body burning up. "Can I stay with you– just for a little bit?"
Shirou blinked at her. Slowly and then a second time. "You want to move in with me..?"
Sakura nodded, unable to repeat it.
"Why?"
"I just…" She couldn't make herself explain– as much as she wanted to trust him. He would reject her– just like everyone else.
"Does it matter?" Aimée replied for her. "She needs a place to stay and you have plenty of room." Her words almost sounded more like a threat than anything. Sakura placed a hand on her arm.
"Please Senpai," Sakura whispered faintly.
Shirou looked her up and down, and then again. "I'm not sure that it would be a good idea right now…" His voice was hoarse. "Do you have anywhere else you can stay?"
Sakura's heart stopped. Her legs were weak, and she nearly crumbled into a heap right then and there. Shirou had said… no? She had considered so many things— so many ways he could reject her… But never here… Never for this.
Not when he had already accepted Aimée into his home mere days before.
She deserved to be rejected to– but she wanted to believe that Shirou didn't care about that. That he would save her… And he was refusing too… It was a bitter pill to swallow. But he would save Aimée…
It was her who was the problem. He didn't love her— she always knew that he never could, but hearing it still hurt. He thought that he would at least want to save her… but he didn't. Not like he wanted to save Aimée.
And why would he? Aimée was petite and beautiful like her sister. She was charming and articulate… Not awkward and fat like Sakura… He blushed when Aimée touched him– but not Sakura. Because Aimée was better… just like Rin was… And Shirou was right to reject the tainted and inferior younger girl for the beautiful foreign beauty.
Where could Sakura even go with Shirou refusing her? She could beg her sister to take her back… Or she could apologize to grandfather and beg to be allowed to stay… But doing so would endanger Shirou… and he didn't deserve that.
"Heh," Aimée laughed, but it sounded off. She stepped closer to Shirou and placed a kiss on his cheek. Shirou froze at the contact, his ears burning red.
Sakura flinched. He wouldn't react that way if Sakura was so brazen… She should just try to be happy for them. Those two honestly deserved to be happy together.
"Very funny joke, hero," she didn't move her face away from his ear. "But you shouldn't frighten Sakura like that. You would never turn away someone that needs help– especially someone as dear to you as her, would you?"
Shirou flinched and stepped away from the two of them. He looked down at his gloved hands, his left hand flexing as he furled and unfurled the fingers. "I… If you have nowhere else to go, then of course, you can stay with me…"
"I just…" He looked up at the setting sun now. "I am just busy for the next week… so I won't be a great host to you. If you could find another friend to stay with, you'll probably be happier there."
"Thank you Senpai," Sakura whispered. But her heart did not soar like it should have. He had only said yes because Aimée twisted his arm, as much as she wanted to believe otherwise.
"We'll get going then," Aimée declared with a bit of an edge in her voice. "We wouldn't want to disturb you while you are working."
Shirou nodded and Aimée grabbed her arm, dragging her away. Sakura looked back over her shoulder at a Shirou he was hanging his head, his fists tightly gripping the edge of the barrel.
"Sakura–" Shirou called out to her, causing them to stop. He looked pale. "Is it Shinji..? Are you safe?"
Sakura turned slightly. "No… Shinji hasn't done anything," that I don't deserve. "I just needed to be somewhere else. I'm glad that I can count on you Senpai."
"Always," Shirou replied softly. "My home is open to you for as long as you would like."
Her heart fluttered. "Thank you," she whispered, too faint for him to hear. A hand found hers, fingers intertwining. It was a comfort, even if it was not the hand she wished for.