Dreams vary from person to person; what you think of by day, you dream of by night.
Infinite loop dreams are mostly painful memories or unforgettable psychological shadows.
Raging flames lit up the ruins, black smoke rose into the sky, lingering over the city named Fuyuki, leaving a shadow in the hearts of those who saw and experienced it. It was a disaster.
Some buildings began to collapse in the high heat. A girl with long orange-red hair was buried underneath because she didn't escape in time.
A red-hot piece of wood fell on her left forearm, and her thick clothes were destroyed instantly.
Her tender body was torn, pain swept through her, and the choking smoke around her made five or six-year-old Ritsuka lose control of her tear ducts.
Covering her nose with her movable right hand, Ritsuka started to think. Panic is useless in such times.
Her head got dizzier. Ritsuka, feeling she might die once more, wanted to cry. She had only lived five years in this life, and only regained her memories half a year ago... Rumble!
The sound of collapse appeared again, bringing deep despair. The wall in the yard that hadn't collapsed suddenly fell backward, completely blocking her view.
Dust and black smoke were squeezed around her, and Ritsuka's eyelids grew heavier.
"Am I going to die...?"
The murmuring voice was covered by the fire and wind in the ruins.
A glimmer of light appeared by her face. It was a beautiful small toy, a crystal 20-sided die.
Having no interest in gambling and almost no knowledge of this thing, Ritsuka was deeply confused.
Perhaps survival instinct, the nearly unconscious Ritsuka reached out and held the die. The small die, only fitting in her palm, began to roll.
None of the 20 sides had numbers. As a die, it was undoubtedly unqualified.
Next moment, in her hazy vision, a 2D-style character image appeared, and some information flooded her head, telling her how to use this thing.
—White-haired, brown-eyed man, black and red clothes, solemn face, holding twin swords with Yin-Yang Taiji patterns... [Emiya Shirou (Archer)]
[synchronization value (7%)]
...Reinforcement Magic. Ritsuka's right hand was covered in blue patterns, like lines on a circuit board. The whole hand suddenly became strange.
Following an instinct, she clenched her right hand and pressed it against the burning wood on her left arm, forcefully pushing it away. Sparks fell on Ritsuka's face.
Seems... it works... Her breathing was heavy. With the reinforcement of her palm, a needle-like sting came from her body.
Because of continuously inhaling smoke, Ritsuka's consciousness became blurrier, and her eyes narrowed instinctively. She saw a person.
Her cheeks were slightly wet. Ritsuka, who had been sleeping soundly on a pile of straw, trembled slightly. The next moment, her tightly closed eyes suddenly snapped open, filled with a trace of panic.
Ritsuka sat up abruptly from the ground, gasping deeply, struggling to force a sound from her throat.
Cold sweat drenched her body. Ritsuka quickly tightened her clothes to avoid catching a cold from the chilly wind blowing through the dilapidated church.
She rubbed her hands together in front of her for warmth. Moonlight spilled across the floor through the broken windows.
It seemed she had another nightmare.
A few years ago, a massive fire in Fuyuki caused by unknown reasons killed Ritsuka's entire family. She had been buried in the ruins, her body scorched by the flames.
The shadow of death had always haunted her. Having nightmares wasn't a rare occurrence, but they never had anything new, making them rather boring.
Back then, because it was autumn and the weather was turning cold, she was wearing thick clothes. Her lower body, which had been pinned down, wasn't severely injured thanks to timely treatment. However, the scar on her left forearm couldn't be healed; it was hideous, and every time she saw it, Ritsuka felt a pang in her heart.
It was terrible... Fortunately, Kiritsugu had saved her in time. Otherwise, in her state back then, she would have certainly died in that fire.
The current crystal dice, which were far from enough, couldn't have saved her back then. Even now, she hadn't fully figured this thing out.
Wiping the cold sweat from her forehead, Ritsuka lifted the blanket off her and held it in her arms. She turned and walked toward the outside of the church. Kiritsugu seemed to have gotten up during the night and wasn't there.
Rounding the corner, the hall was crowded with many people sleeping in various sprawled positions. Ritsuka carefully stepped over them, not wanting to disturb anyone's dreams.
This church had many kind-hearted clergy members who took in refugees who had lost their homes due to the war. The priest here was a rare, genuine good man. She and Kiritsugu were currently helping out here, their goal having shifted from searching for mystery to rescuing people.
Of course, it wasn't realistic for just two people to end the war, so they simply did their best to save people and waited for the war to end, helplessly choosing to be bystanders.
Stepping out of the church, Ritsuka saw a familiar figure at the corner. "Kiritsugu."
Under the bright moonlight were the steps in front of the church. Kiritsugu, with a cigarette in his mouth, suddenly froze.
Subconsciously, he spat out the cigarette directly, caught it in his palm, and crushed the lit end with his bare hand. Amidst the sizzling sound, a drop of cold sweat slid down his cheek.
So hot!
Taking a deep breath, Kiritsugu's expression returned to its usual indifference. He looked back slightly at Ritsuka, who was holding her blanket. "It's not dawn yet. Why not rest a bit longer?"
The moon hung in the pitch-black night sky, with stars dotted like a river. It was clearly still the middle of the night.
Ritsuka, who hadn't woken up naturally, had a look of slight fatigue on her face. After all, she had been forced awake by a nightmare. Still young and lacking sleep, Ritsuka narrowed her eyes.
"I'm okay. I just don't really want to sleep anymore."
Ritsuka sat down on the edge of the steps next to Kiritsugu. Her nose twitched slightly. The pungent smell of smoke made her eyes narrow as she stared silently at Kiritsugu.
Ding—!
Kiritsugu silently averted his gaze.
Sighing, Ritsuka took a pack of chocolate biscuit sticks out of her pocket. This was her favorite snack—Pocky.
She put one in her mouth and chewed it with relish, then casually pulled another one out and handed it to Kiritsugu. "Want one?"
Thinking of something, Ritsuka smiled radiantly. Before Kiritsugu could answer, she suddenly reached out and shoved the biscuit stick into his mouth.
Kiritsugu's gaze swept over Ritsuka's face, his dull eyes showing a hint of helplessness. As if knowing he couldn't win against her, he finally opened his mouth and slowly held the biscuit stick between his lips.
In the past, Ritsuka, who didn't want him to smoke, would always do this—making him use biscuit sticks as a substitute for cigarettes, saying that smoking was harmful to his health. To this, Kiritsugu only wanted to brush her off with foolish words like, 'If it's harmful to health, why doesn't the world ban tobacco production?'
Where there is profit, there will be action. This world is ultimately driven by the word 'profit'; no person or nation can escape it.
However, in the face of that pure and bright smile, he couldn't bring himself to say those cynical words. Ultimately, the smile was too precious. Of course, he wasn't being creepy; he was just feeling gratified in his role as a Father.
"The war is about to end."
Crunching and swallowing the biscuit stick, Kiritsugu sighed, his voice full of helplessness.
The two of them had come here to search for the mystery rumored to be in this place, and to save the world.
For this, they had stayed here for nearly half a year, until war broke out recently. The giants of capitalist nations found an excuse to launch an invasion, and tragedies unfolded before them.
Ritsuka understood what Kiritsugu meant. They hadn't been able to do anything in this war. Individual strength ultimately couldn't influence a nation, let alone the world. They could only pray for a miracle, and they hadn't found a miracle either.
Carrying the wish to save others and the world, Kiritsugu had set out again with old wounds in his heart. For him, this was perhaps a different kind of blow.
Ritsuka wore her usual smile. "Then what do you plan to do, Kiritsugu?"
"Let's go back. Back to Fuyuki. Perhaps my personal journey ends here."
hero of justice—this phrase that had always existed in Kiritsugu's heart finally flickered out at this moment. His hands trembled.