Continued from here for @despairfilesâ !
The sword in her hand had felt real, familiar. Shirou had only let her hold it once but it had been a moment she'd never forgotten: patching him up to the best of her ability after he'd endured a fight she hadn't understood. But in spite of all of his bandages and how much he probably had ached under them, he'd produced two swords out of thin air and given her the opportunity to hold them before making them vanish with just the lightest touch of his hand.
This, however, seemed like something out of a dream, a fantasy. Her villa likely was for most of the world, as she set her crossbody bag down on a nearby table and removed her hat and sunglasses: windows that only showed a stretch of beach and ocean as far as the eye could see. If it wasn't a fully-staffed resort, it would feel like a small, private slice of paradise (not that she could be trusted to live, or at least feed herself, on her own).
But it wasn't the picture-perfect villa, or the sparkling blue water, or the temperature that, in January, remained at a comfortable 29C during the day with cloudless skies and sunshine that seemed so very much separated from real life. No, it was Shirou Emiya: someone who had all but disappeared from her life (granted, she hadn't tried too hard to track him down after high school), emerging off her beach for reasons unrelated to invading her personal privacy and holiday. Perhaps it was pure coincidence, perhaps it was fate.
Perhaps she needed to shove more pieces of ripened, sliced mango into her mouth to rid her mind of the fact he was occupying one of the three guest bathrooms at present. She'd never said a thing, it hadn't been right and she hadn't been right to even entertain anything, even in the depths of her imagination, but she'd felt far sadder than she had any right to the day he'd left for London with Rin Tohsaka. As she bit off another piece of the fruit, Sonia remembered she hadn't even been jealous that day, or resentful: just sad, experiencing a loss she didn't think would have been so prominent. Friends came and went in her life, that was the risk she ran with seeking an education beyond Novoselic's borders and the confines of her family's social circles.
Shirou, however, had been different: his departure had put her into a melancholy mood that had lingered, no matter how many smiles she'd mustered and plans she'd made. It became easier, in a way, after she'd graduated: she was no longer tempted to visit the Emiya household and still believe he'd be there. A life he now inquired after, as she sat on a stool near the kitchen counter and watched him prepare a meal. Some things, to her surprise, never changed.
"I think it's been at least five years since I've had a fruit sandwich," She laughed. The trend hadn't carried over into the royal kitchens and hadn't been popular in England at all. "Perhaps the same could be said for you, if you've traveled most of your life since leaving Japan? But you shouldn't let Rin-chan, Sakura-chan, and Fujimura-sama worry: even if it's challenging, you should contact them whenever possible."
She didn't press further, about the magecraft or his work. For someone so easily understood and accepted the likes of ghosts and demons, she'd never quite wrapped her head around magecraft. But she was normal, or so Rin had put it one day. She'd never feel the circuits they did. Sonia had shrugged and smiled at the time but it had only served to remind her of another part of life she'd never understand nor experience. Her aristocratic cohorts probably wouldn't give it a second thought: but they also weren't Sonia Nevermind. Where the most mundane aspects of the world fascinated her. She nodded at his appearance: another thing she couldn't press further. That was just rude.
"I did attend Oxford in the end," She confirmed for him when prompted. A light early afternoon breeze had picked up over the water, one that rustled the sheer drapes tied to the sides of open windows. At home at Boudry House in January, Sonia couldn't fathom letting the elements in. But here it was natural, leisurely, where time moved slowly and deadlines didn't exist. "Many of my friends at Hope's Peak didn't understand why, both my reasoning to attend university or to leave Japan. But unlike a lot of my friends, a university education was expected of me and my father wanted me to take on more and more duties at home rather than abroad, so England offered a shorter travel time. But I liked how small Oxford felt, compared to Towa City and my nation's capital. I wasn't permitted to live in the dorms for too long, with the security needed, but my home was lovely and I met others with similar futures to mine."
It was hard to tell if that was a good or bad thing: Sonia's smile faltered a bit. What it really was was something her parents approved of far more than her running off to Japan at sixteen years old. She hadn't had much of a choice in that matter, but to them, Hope's Peak didn't really help her engage with the right sort, beyond a few exceptions. The presence of finished fruit sandwiches, cut into perfect triangles with the crusts discarded, did bring a bit of light back to her expression.
"Thank you for the food," She said, repeating a phrase she'd recited so many times in his company before taking a bite. Just like she'd remembered, and Sonia couldn't help but let out a small, content sigh as she chewed and swallowed. "But now I am a full-time working royal, doing what my father needs of me so I may one day follow in his footsteps. A lot of it is charity and appearances but I don't mind: I like the ones where I feel useful or that I'm making a positive difference in the lives of those who need it. My family wishes I'd take on more social engagements though, and so I try to do so when I can. But I mostly am assigned to form new charities and initiatives, which is far more engaging to me."
