#mongrelofulster

Title: Fairy tales

This was somewhere he visited often. Not because Rin forced him, not because of any other reason but for the pure reason that he wanted to. And it took up a significant number of hours in his day when he had nothing planned. His guard activities of protecting Fuyuki only existed the during the late night when those monsters would lurk.

Normally, he would be cleaning the plastic dishes the children use, helping them with issues here and there, fixing this and that as the orphanage already had trouble feeding their children, much less the money to make sure that everything wasn’t a necessity was working properly. 

But today, the children were oddly energetic. It didn’t take Archer too long to work out why either. “...Why are you here?”

“What the heck are you doing here?”

A similar question was echoed back at him. Archer frowned at the enemy before him, a child hanging off his arm, another having climbed on his back. He couldn’t keep frowning for long and instead, shook his head a bit. It didn’t matter why the other was here. At least he knew his workload today would be slightly less...

As that thought crossed his mind, the group of children ran up to the two Servants who were on a temporary truce, now for more than the sole reason that the Holy Grail was inactive. 

“Archer-san, Lancer-san! Read us this story!” They asked, holding up a thick coloured children fairy tale.

-> Lancer should read it.

-> Archer should read it.

“I got it! No problems, kiddos!” Leaning over before Archer can speak up, Lancer pulled the story book from the children’s hands. With the cheerful sounds the children made, Archer could make little protest to the decision.

------

“Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there lived in a poor village a beautiful girl. He--, I mean, She lived with her mother.” Lancer paints a story.

“Archer, Archer, where are you? Oh, there you are.” Rin heaved a sigh, setting a basket of jewels down onto the table. “I don’t know why I didn’t see you there for a second, you’re always dressed in all red. No wonder they call you little red riding hood.” She waved her hand, that wasn’t the point.

“I need you to take these to Saber-- no, your grandmother,” Lancer continued, turning the page for the children, showing the picture. 

The ‘mother’ of the story, Rin, continued. “With these delicious treats, she’ll be better in no time. But I want you to be careful. On the path to grandmother’s house, lives a wolf who is rumored to kidnap and eat girls like you up! So when you see a stranger, especially a wolf, remember to not stop and talk to him!” Mother warned seriously, a hand on her hip, the other hand lifted and shaking as she talked.

“But little red riding hood wasn’t afraid,” Cu nods his head, grinning widely as the children had no trouble keeping up with the story. “She takes the basket of treats and heads out of the house, to find her grandmother so that she could get better.” Turning the page again, the page illustrated little red riding hood running into the big bad wolf. 

“Hello there, beautiful. I don’t see you come around here often.” Cu spoke in place for the wolf. “The wolf spoke in a charming voice. So much that little red riding hood had to stop, even if her mother had told her that she shouldn’t talk to strangers. I couldn’t help but notice what you had in your basket, those delicious treats.” 

“Children, make sure you don’t ever talk to strangers who offer you candy.” Interrupting Cu, Archer spoke firmly to the children, getting a group response of ‘Haaaaiii’. Appearing to be satisfied, he allowed Cu to continue with his tale... as much as he didn’t want to hear any more of it. 

“These treats?” Little red riding hood said, looking down into her basket. Archer shook his head. “I can’t give these to you, they’re for my feeble grandmother who is sick.” Archer explained to the wolf, before trying to head down the path to get to his grandmother’s house. 

“Wait, wait! Little red riding hood! Ah, I hear that your grandmother loves plums right?” The wolf tried very hard to get Archer’s attention, successfully too. “Just off the road there, to the right, there are a few plum trees, you should go pick a some for her so she has extra snacks.”

Cu cleared his throat, pulling his wolf voice away so he could resume his narrator role, not that he hasn’t been doing all the voice the entire time, of course. He was the one who had tugged the responsibility onto himself, he wouldn’t ask anyone else to help him. And this was also because nobody else would know the story he was telling. “With that, little red riding hood strayed the right, setting down her basket as she cuts down plums to bring to her grandmother. What a nice and cute child, unlike some other children I know.” While his eyes move to Archer, some children protested to Cu’s words with stories of how they were nice to their teachers.

Cu would grin to them. “Really? I always knew you guys were all wonderful kids.” With that, he continued the story. 

While Archer was distracting cutting down plums carefully from the tree for grandmother Saber, the sneaky wolf was watching behind a tree! Seeing the right time while little red riding hood was distracted with the plums, the wolf skillfully used a long branch, hooking onto the basket and brought it over to himself. 

Little red riding hood notices this a bit too late, when Archer ran over to his basket of treats, who he saw beside the basket wasn’t the wolf, or was it? It was a prince! He was dressed in bright colours and was caught in the act of eating one of the tasty treats in basket that was suppose to be for little red riding hood’s grandmother. 

So little red riding hood starts to speak to the prince. “Prince, what red eyes you have, and what blue hair you have... just like the big bad wolf!” Archer was very confused. “But why are you eating my bag of treats? Those are for my grandmother!”

Cu cleared his throat. “So, the wolf did his best to explain to little red riding hood. The truth was, he had a curse placed on him, that if someone came around with delicious treats and he was to eat them, he could turn back from a wolf to a prince. So to thank little red riding hood, the prince married her and they lived happily ever after. The end.”

The entire time, Archer had his face in his hands. What kind of story was that? 

“Lancer-san! I have a question!” A child raised her hand. 

“Yes, what is it?”

“What about grandmother Saber?”

“Oh! Right. Because the wolf is a prince, he had lots of delicious treats back at his own castle, so they went to get that for little red riding hood’s grandmother, who got better very soon too.” Cu added quickly for the sake of the story, and to answer the child’s question. 

“I have a question too! Why is little red riding hood’s name Archer?”

“Alright, children.” Archer got to his feet. “Your arts and craft teacher has gotten here, it’s time to go wash your hands and get ready for that.” 

“Awwwwhhhhh...”

Archer leads the children away while Cu placed the fairytale away back onto the bookshelf. 

------

As the day came to an end, the children saw Archer and Lancer out, waving to them. Finally, the streets grew quiet, except for the sounds of footsteps as the two Servants walked side by side. 

Archer breaks the silence. “You are never reading them any stories ever again. What even was that story? The moral is to talk to strangers and then give them food and hopefully it’ll be a prince who’ll marry you and heal your grandmother miraculously?” 

“Of course, I can’t promise you all those things, I’m not even a proper prince.” Without warning, Cu reached out, grabbing onto Archer’s hand, pulling the other to a stop. Getting to a knee, he kissed the back of Archer’s hand, smiling back up at him. “But they’re living happily ever after, right?” The colour that had descended onto Archer’s face was telling enough for Cu, and he doesn’t fight it when Archer yanks his hand away, starting to stomp away. 

Title: Third time’s the charm

“Smoke Grey. Leader of the rebellion group named Link, estimated at age 27. Low class resident number 027886539. You are here before the masses and her majesty for the crimes of treason, attempted treason, murder of multiple degrees,” the list went on. The masses of people that had gathered, both of high status and of low were many, and they were all silent. The event was also shown all across Driana, some watched from their homes, some on their Liink. 

It was probably one of the biggest commotions since around 10 years ago, when the Olinsky family was taken down by the rebellion force. And of course, one of the main rebellion groups that had made a name for themselves then was the Link. But certainly, this execution that was on broadcast to the whole of Driana was something the entire Driana had access to viewing. 

The man had been led out sometime ago. Whether it was the executioner speaking or the fact of how they had bound the criminal… there was something that kept the people silent. 

“Your punishment is public execution. You may speak your last wishes to her majesty.” 

Such were the rules of this country. No matter how treacherous your crimes were, especially if they were murderous, treacherous, and you were to be publicly executed, you may have your piece to speak before the queen, to the public that was watching.

The tall, standing black haired male was shoved forward, and he grunts lightly as his locked ankles gave little to no support to his posture. The hands on his shoulders roughly shoved him down, pushing him to a kneeling position. ‘Right, gotta kneel in front of the Queen. Could have just told me,’ the thought went unsaid. 

Apart from his ankles that were locked with heat resistant heavy locks, making it impossible for him to walk anywhere without shuffling a tiny inch at time, his arms and hands were forced in an uncomfortable position, tightly kept on his back. His eyes and vision was blocked by metallic resistant wrap, as if the Kingdom feared he was half-mechanical and could shoot lasers from his eyes. His mouth was locked by a heavy gear that covered his neck, reaching up and under his nose, as if worried that speech from the individual would cause harm. Perhaps the only thing that one could define that this was Smoke was his dark black hair, which under the sun reflected a bit of a dark red. 

But that was a problem, wasn’t it?

After a long deafening silence, which Smoke gathered was the queen moving out to a visible area, the mechanical gear at his neck and mouth whirred, loosened, and was pulled off by one of the attenders at his side. Tentatively, Smoke licked his dry lips. They kept him blindfolded, but he couldn’t blame them for trying to be careful. As dark hair was only common among normal civilians, some may wonder if they had the right person, but the grin that spreads almost immediately after on his face was telling enough. To anyone who knew him. 

With his neck given more room to move, he shifted his neck up. While his eyes were visible, if they were, they would be staring at the queen at this moment. They didn’t require any extra equipment to catch Smoke’s voice. Despite being kept in captivity for over two weeks, his voice wasn’t any different to what it would any other day. 

“First of all, thanks for pulling holes through my chest and then patching me back up for the public execution. Oddly thoughtful of you,” he spoke with amusement clearly ringing in his voice, and the murmurs amongst the crowd had started. “That wasn’t just to her majesty, I guess. Right, last words.” As if this wasn’t just before his execution, he continued to speak in a casual manner. By now, many in the crowd stands had started to wonder how someone who didn’t have their head on right could have led such a rebellion. While some other whispered that it must be because he didn’t have his head on right that it was so hard to catch him. 

“Hey, your majesty. Have you ever wondered why your daughter’s hair changed colours from the light pale yellow that you have to a sharp pink? Did you ever wonder where she went to after her disappearance? Did you even openly look for her, or was the colour change of her hair an atrocity enough that you would throw away your own flesh and blood, your majesty?”

That was all it required, before outraged crowds started yelling from the stands for the insult, for adding salt to the injury that their queen had already stood for losing her only daughter.

“Your majesty, please be seated.” A quiet voice broke the queen from her surprised stare. She turned to look to who spoke to her, and smiled softly. “Thank-you, Topaz.” Taking his offered hand, she was led back inside, out of views from the crowds.

During all this, the mechanical muffler was attached back on his neck and mouth. One of the criminal’s attendants had ran off to help the guards as some of the civilians were starting to push through the barrier and gap that allowed people past the barrier inside the execution grounds. 

During that ruckus, it was as if an unheard cue was given. The wind picked up, the masses increased in number, the blue barrier around the execution grounds which had already flickered into existence as the civilians were coming into contact with it, it cracked, and broke. 

“Now!!” 

The execution grounds was suddenly surrounded by a large number of people. However, they appeared to be working together. The white and black uniforms indicated that. By now, it was a well known uniform to the land of Driana. It belonged to the rebellion group Link. 

To someone who was blinded and unable to speak, Smoke can only hear the sounds of the attendant beside him falling to the ground with a thud. Something electric sounded by his ear, and the blindfold, the muffler goes loose first. They don’t fall off immediately, and Smoke shakes his head as the binds on his arms and ankles start to go loose too. The blindfold was half off, and in the bright light, he saw…pink? 

“…the fuck are you…”

“Oh gee, boss. Great to see you too. Not ‘thank-you, Miloky, for undoing this new technology that the kingdom used to bind me’ but ‘the fuck are you’.” The woman with a long pink ponytail did a very good impression of the man who was kneeling beside her. In her hands was an odd device, one Smoke hadn’t seen before. 

Finally, the bindings were all yanked off, and she helped him to his feet. “Can you stand?” Despite her sarcasm previously, her voice now carried concern. “Smoke, I heard it, what you said, I mean. Everyone heard it too, but… Thanks. But…I…I got to…” She paused, sounding troubled.

“Go. Go now. It may be the only time you’ll get to see her.” Smoke’s authoritative tone snapped right back, and the female who supported him to his feet lets out a quiet laugh, and runs off. 

Smoke almost falls to the ground again when the person holding him off had ran off. The guards had all gathered by now, and his eyes had adjusted to the sunlight. The rebellion group Link had officially ‘disbanded’ as their leader was captured those weeks ago, at least, that was what the public was told. Link was hunted ever since his capture, Smoke didn’t need to be genius to know that. After all, why else would he let them catch him, if it didn’t give everyone else a head start on escaping?

And now, everyone was back. their uniforms bright in the light of day. Though even if any of them had greeted him from where they were, fighting off the civilians and guards, he couldn’t hear them. But he could see them glance back to him, he could feel their concern for him while he stood in the center of his mess. “…Man, I caused such a mess.” He muttered quietly as his eyes narrowed to a group of guards running at him with weapons. He wasn’t exceptionally quick, but he knew some of their patterns, and dodged a few bullets, electric spears and went in. Hand to hand combat was something he was skilled in, to a certain extent.

Instead of fire that should have appeared in his palms to assist, trails of smoke left it. Smoke makes a light sound in irritation, the mild distraction in the fact that his abilities failed him now was enough for a stunning weapon to be shot and latch onto his back. “Grk!!”

He crashes to the ground with a thud.

“Boss!” “Smoke!”

He could still hear everything around him as the discharge of electricity ran through his body, rendering his limbs useless, but his mind clear as day.

Jets of water, playing cards, a scythe, and… a person flying over his head were things that he caught before the electric discharging thing was yanked from his back. His mind took a second to clear. “…You…?”

“Wow, Miloky’s right. You have no manners.” The woman with long black hair spoke. She shook her hand a bit, no doubt having gotten stung a little despite the protective equipment she wore. Unlike Miloky, Jezebel doesn’t help him to his feet. But Smoke didn’t need it this time. The guards that he had tried to fight off by himself were swiftly taken down. 

“Smoke!” someone runs up to him immediately, tackling him and holding him tight. 

“That’s everyone, we’re ready to leave. Seth.”

“it’s charged up! Everyone stay close!” A familiar sound rings around them, and in the next second, all was quiet.

The six that had been in the center of the execution grounds was nowhere to be found. 

 ——

Being pulled through the fabric of the world wasn’t fun. Especially when you were tackled to the ground and had no way to be prepared for the trip. This was the third time today that he was knocked down and had to open his eyes to someone unfamiliar. 

Well, no, just someone he doesn’t expects. 

“…Hey, you. Are you just going to lay on me all day?” Smoke asked quietly, a smile making its way to his face playfully. His arms and wrists ached, not from the electrical hit he received, but from the way they had been pulled in an unmovable position earlier. Still, he moved them up, lightly brushing against the light blonde hair, away from the face that was practically stuck to his chest right now. 

“No. I’m going to stay here and you can’t do anything about it. We all saved you, the least you can do is show some gratitude and let me hug you.” The voice cracks as it speaks, making out difficult words through his tears. 

Smoke slowly sits up, pressing a hand around Zack before looking up to the four that had helped them, then to their surrounding. “Nice base.” He complimented with a small smile. 

“It’s called a house,” the other blonde answered first, his hair a much brighter shade than the one who was currently attached to Smoke. “And it’s our house, we’ve lived here on Earth, ah…Ah-meri-ca, for some time now.” He said with a nod. 

Smoke lets his eyes take in the details of the group that he had once been familiar with. They had all matured quite a bit. The black haired girl dressed extremely maturely, yet didn’t let her style fade away, how she seems like she was done with everyone here, that attitude was still present. “I’ll see what drinks we have in the fridge for everyone.” She said with a roll of her eyes. 

“Ah! I’ll help you!” The next who chirped up was the short haired red boy. No, Seth could hardly be called that anymore. After sending a bright smile to Smoke, and a “I’m glad you’re fine. Don’t worry, you’re safe here.” to him, Seth hurried off after Jezebel to the kitchen. 

White rubbed at the back of his head, having kept his hair the same length, and his wardrobe… well, still as flashy as ever. “…Yeah, what Seth said. We couldn’t really help you guys ever since… our fight was over, but when Zack contacted us that the Kindgom got you, well, we couldn’t just keep sitting around, could we?”

Unsurprising. Smoke glanced down to Zack, who seemed to have composed himself now. Though…it didn’t feel like he was about to let him go any time soon.

“It’s his own fault for playing the hero. It never ends well.” The one who spoke up was the last one to remain at White’s side. He didn’t have his hood on anymore, and his dark blue hair was as long as ever. And so were those judging, displeased eyes.

“Nice to see you, Briwista. Your brother’s much more pleasant to work with.”

Daemon’s eyes narrowed at Smoke for his comment, and White was quick to diffuse the gunpowder that had started to gather in the room. No need for any fights to break out now. White tugged Daemon from the living room, making up some excuse to pull him towards the kitchen where the other two were. 

“How did you–” “How did you–”

The two people who were left alone spoke up after a moment, at the same time, and then stopped. “…No, you first.” Zack rubbed at his eyes, shifting so he was sitting properly beside Smoke and not on him. 

“Alright. I was going to ask how did you think you were going to pull that off? Sure, our people has skill, but the Kingdom has way too many people. “That could have turned out really bad.” Smoke pointed out. He could tell there was a plan. To first have Miloky turn off the barrier, release him, the others were to hold off the guards and Zack…was to get him and leave? 

“We pulled it off, didn’t we?” Zack smiled softly, still reeling from the fact that it had been a success. “Really, we didn’t know if it would work for 100%, we had it all planned out. Miloky disarms the barrier, gets you, she then makes her way to the higher court members, where the Briwistas will ensure her safety. Everyone else is to hold back the guards from all sides, both in the air on the ground. I was with that group. Then, White, Seth, Daemon, and Jezebel were to teleport in with their dimension gun directly around you. And after I make my way to join up with them, we use my dimension gun to leave… so…” He wasn’t sure why he was explaining all this, and even as he did, the tears kept running down his face. 

“And how would you have pulled it off without me causing the crowd to act up?” Smoke said, raising an eyebrow.

“That, that was what I was going to ask. How did you know we were …looking for an opening?” Zack leaned forward, bringing his arms around Smoke again to hug him tightly.

Carefully, Smoke brought his arms around Zack. “…I just, had a feeling. I know you enough to know that even if the chances were slim, you would try to gather everyone to get me.”

“…You say that like I forced everyone to come and help you.”

“You didn’t?”

“Of course I didn’t!” Zack whacked Smoke on the back. “I told them that it was dangerous, that they didn’t have to because i–”

Smoke’s laughter stops Zack in his speech, and he realizes that the other was being sarcastic. 

Carefully, Zack helped Smoke back to his feet. They embraced properly, for a few seconds before a whistle could be heard. 

“Whoa, damn, Smoke.” White, who was holding on a can of coke, leaning against the wall spoke up, making the couple in front of him pull away from their hug. “You’re a whole head taller than Zack now, what?” He said, then walked over, grabbing Daemon again, who makes a quiet sound in protest as he was tugged over to Smoke and Zack. “…And slightly taller than Dae, taller than /me/. What happened? Did you quit drinking?”

That question from White manages to pull a laugh from Zack. “I wish, White. Oh, how I wish.” He said, looking from White and up to Smoke with a smile. 

“Shut the fuck up, blondie.” Smoke rolled his eyes. 

“Glad to know you haven’t stopped drinking, so we didn’t waste money buying nice whisky.” Jezebel walked out with a cup and the bottle of whisky, setting it on the small table in front of the couch.

“Hey, cool.” Smoke reached over, the bottle was already opened, and part of the liquid was missing, no doubt poured into the cup beside it. But instead, Smoke had picked up the bottle, and tilted it up into the air, the liquid directly being poured into his mouth and throat. 

Title: Language, it doesn’t deserve such treatment

“Teacher, you know almost everything.” The young boy had been crouched by piles of herbs, sorting them in the right category. He glanced back briefly, to make sure he had caught his teacher’s attention with his words before he continued to speak. “When I asked people, they said the thing that you should look forward to is somewhere called heaven. That it’s the best thing we can have. That I would understand when I was older. But I don’t like it, they treat me like I’m some kid.” The dark haired child huffed. “You’ll tell me, right, teacher? You know what heaven is? Can you take me there one day?” 

The child then was barely twelve, such a young child shouldn’t be staying in on such a wonderful day, inside a damp, dark house with someone who had lost connection with the world that he lives in. Still, the child believed he could learn more with him. Who was he to say no to extra hands?

“Morgan...”

“...You aren’t going to tell me that you’ll tell me when I’m older too, right?” Finally, when the child stopped and turned to look at him, there had been little he could do but give in.

“Finish your task, we will talk about it about it afterwards.” His face had lit up in a way the teacher was never able to replicate when the years had gone by. 

They had moved to a shaded clearing afterwards. It was afternoon, the sun was high, but instead of enjoying that, the child ran from shaded area to shaded area, waving his arm towards the figure that was still under the last piece of shade. Finally, the rested by a running river, underneath a large tree that offered more than enough shade for the two of them. 

“Let me start off by telling you that the people are wrong. Heaven is not the best that mankind has to offer. Heaven is not somewhere you want to visit, nor will I take you there. In comparison to that, I would gladly give it away for what’s truly important.” His black leather notebook sat in his lap, the student didn’t know why, but he could tell that it was something very important to the teacher. 

“I knew it! You would definitely know the answer, Zane. So what’s the most important, and best thing?”

As if he hadn’t heard the child speak up, Zane continued to speak quietly, his head resting against the tree, eyes closed. “The greatest thing one person can do is communicate to another.”

But with all my education, I can’t seem to command it. 

“...Huh? So talking?” Morgan lightly poked at Zane’s arm, appearing rather confused to what he was told.

Zane opened his eyes, turning them to look towards Morgan. Like teaching a young child, he spoke clearly. “Communication doesn’t only appear in the form of words.” He stared at the child, silent, as he could only envision his arm moving and patting the child on the head. What face would Morgan make then? Would he be happy? Zane lifted his hand slightly, catching Morgan’s attention, before Zane drops it into his lap, gripping onto his notebook. “Think about it.” 

And all the words are escaping, and coming back all damaged.

Though he looked a bit unhappy with the answer, Morgan clenched his eyes shut, trying to make sense of the words in his mind. 

------

“Zane, what’s this? Your poetry book?”

“Lachlan, don’t touch my stuff without permission.” 

A quiet laugh. But Lachlan sets down the black notebook back on the shelf. It was oddly marked 01, along the lines of many that were up to 53 now. He had only taken a glance inside, there seemed to be diagrams of the human body, of herbs, of weird symbols that he didn’t understand. And at the very beginning of all these notebooks... Lachlan steals a glance to Zane who was busy sorting out the things he had brought in from town, and makes sure he’s occupied before he gently picked up the fallen picture frame. The picture looked old, but Zane didn’t look too different in it. There was someone else in the picture, a boy, someone he has never seen before. 

But if it was someone who would manage to have Zane take a picture with him, it certainly was someone important, right? Lachlan sets the picture frame upright, dusting it off, and smiled to himself. It was nice to think Zane had important people in his life too--

“What are you doing? I told you not to touch my things.” Before he knew it, the frame he had been looking at was pulled from his sight. It was tossed out the window.

“Zane! What are you doing!?”

“That was my question.” The dead serious gaze in his eyes reminded him of that time he pushed Zane a bit too far, poking aorund the other’s small house, into a room that was typically locked. There had been...arms, legs, flesh, both rotten and flesh that laid in a pile. But it had been all dead. 

The face of the smiling child registers in his mind, matching the dead faces that he had seen in that locked room. “I... I’m worri--”

“Get out.”

“Zane, please, you can talk to m--”

And I would give all this and heaven too I would give it all if only for a moment

“GET OUT!”

Late that night, on the very same day, Zane had ended up leaving his house to pick up the picture frame that was thrown out of the house. He brings it up into his hands, dusting the dirt off of it and returns to the house. 

------

“Who is he, Zane?” “Who is he, teacher?”

The same question came assaulted him from the right, and from the left. There was nowhere he could escape from them. From looking to each other, they moved their gaze to him. 

This heaven never could describe such a feeling as I knew it Words were never so useful

While the words carried no malice, only suspicion and concern, the person who was being demanded of answers read much further into their tones and voices. Zane could only feel his jaw clench and tighten, before he reaches out, grabbing onto both Morgan and Lachlan’s arms.

The two would look at the gesture, at Zane, then at each other. 

“My name’s Morgan, I’m Zane’s apprentice.”

“I’m Lachlan. I bring things in from town cause Zane orders from us. And well, he typically forgets to eat, so I bring lunch every now and then.”

“Really? That used to be my job. Hahah, I’m glad teacher had someone looking after him while I was gone.”

Title: Descend with me.

“Something’s wrong. You aren’t telling me. Speak, Kirei.” 

As if ordering a stubborn toy to speak up, Gilgamesh uncrossed his legs from the spot on the couch he was rested at, the cup of red wine occupying his hand reflected the dim yellow light in the room as the liquid was swirled. “Your king is offering his time to listen to your troubles, don’t waste it.” The longer the silence hung in the air, the more irritable Gilgamesh sounded.

How many years has it been? Almost six now. Kirei wasn’t surprised in the slightest that Gilgamesh had gotten somewhat bored of him. Of course, he hasn’t, but with Gilgamesh occupying less of his time, he could use his own time to seek out the person who had always occupied his mind before Gilgamesh had made himself room in there. 

“Kotomine.”

It would appear Gilgamesh had left the couch to stand in front of him and his desk, having no doubt lost patience. “I will speak, Gilgamesh. Calm yourself.” The priest sets down his glass of wine, and was about to stand when the blonde Servant moved over to make himself comfortable in his lap. 

He heaved a quiet sigh, guess he’ll have to keep sitting instead. 

“I’m not allowing you to pace around the couch. Now, speak.” Gilgamesh takes a sip of his wine, leaning back as if Kirei was his chair. 

------

“Emiya Kiritsugu.” He had told me not to come over when his adopted son was present. I followed as instructed, he didn’t seem to be very happy regardless. 

“That’s because you’re an idiot, but continue.” Gilgamesh rolled his eyes. 

“...Why are you here...”

“You said you would not like to see my face while your son is present. If I am not mistaken, the school day has started for him.”

“Skiiiip to the next part.”

Because he refused to make tea, I moved to the kitchen to make tea for myself. We sat together in the hallway, and we had tea. 

“Kirei, you’re wearing on my nerves, just sum it up.”

------

The thin blade sliced the grass in the ground, and then stabs and stays in the dirt until Kirei ran past it, picking it up as he dashed after his prey. The prey didn’t run at a fast pace, with this pace, he could easily keep up and take his life if he wanted to. But he doesn’t. He follows his prey.

Kiritsugu was out of breath in less than five minutes. His hand gripped tightly onto his yukata, against his chest that beat. He narrowly dodges the black key that flies past his face, lodging itself into the wall behind him. “Tch,” with a small sound, he pushed off the wall to give himself momentum to run just a bit faster. He makes a quiet sound as a blade slices into his yukata and at the side of his arm. He’d have to apologize to Shirou for that later. 

Poor kid probably already had lots of homework to deal with, he shouldn’t have to deal with an old m--

Kiritsugu’s feet touches the grass and he trips over himself in panic as a blade firmly digs itself into his shoulder. There was a short gasp of pain, and the man lands on the ground. His face barely touches the grass as he found himself turned around three sharp blades very close to his face. “Alright, alright, you won. Mind getting your key out of me so I don’t bleed out and die?” As if totally unconcerned of death looming over him, he lifted his hands slightly in a resigned fashion. 

The weapon was removed, as requested, but as it was, a hand presses and grips the wound on Kiritsugu’s shoulder tightly, and the distance between them closes. 

------

“...And then you kept him alive, blah blah blah, mana, blah, dolphins, whatever. So why are you still complaining?” By then, Gilgamesh had already emptied the bottle of wine, leaving it lying on it’s side on Kirei’s desk. He wanted more, but he didn’t need to risk standing and letting Kirei pace. 

“When learning what is right, one follows a typical pattern, a descend,”

“Like yours?”

“---like mine. But no matter what I do, what I say... Emiya Kiritsugu...”

Title: Red String of Fate

“Why do I have to go with you to your stupid rounds?” 

“Because it’d be much better than being stuck in a warded house where you can’t go anywhere, right?” A quiet giggle. “Plus, puppies like to go on walks, brother says.”

“You fucking---!!” The heavily sigil covered house was empty with the sounds of fluttering wings.

“--ch!! Don’t just grab me and fly! Do you know disorientating that is? W--where the fuck are we...” The demon’s angry words slowed at the loud sounds of canons, swords clashing, and---

“IIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSUUUUUUUUUUU!!!!!”

“Wow, he got some lungs, wait, shit, we’re still in the air, fucking bird, land!”

“Shuuush, puppy. Be good. I got you.” The silver haired angel took little note of the complaining company she had, and instead focused on the battle around them.

“What are you doing, why are you tugging me?”

“There’s a shard, around here, or something that’s causing unusual reaction, but...” Two people blocked their path, the mere words and swinging weapons were quite enough to make Jophiel pull Kerberos back. They couldn’t be seen right now, but they could still get hurt. 

“Hold up there, pal. If you want to go about Tokugawa, you’re going to--” A large man supporting what looked like a large anchor spoke, but he didn’t really get to finish speaking, a thin sword was pulled out from it’s sheathe and he had to block it. “Whoa, whoa, where are you manners?” He laughed quietly as the attacks kept coming. 

“You’re in my way! Move! Die! Anyone who helps Ieyasu should rot in hell!” His words were just as quick as his blade. 

“Ishida, right? C’mon, w-whoa, almost got me there. Looks like I have to play it serious too!” 

Kerberos gives the gawking angel a light angel. “I don’t see any shard,” he spoke flatly, looking around. “Only people fighting.”

“No, but this point of history is resonating a large influence...” Jophiel tugged them both slightly higher so stray arrows and anchors won’t reach them. “...But it is the battle of Sekigahara, I suppose it was important to begin with, heheh.”

“ ...DON’T ‘HEHEH’ AT ME AFTER DRAGGING ME ALL THE WAY OUT HERE!” 

“Okay, okay! Don’t yell, puppy! Next stop!”

“Next!??”

---赤い糸---

“We’re still in the past. What the fuck.”

“Ooh, this isn’t suppose to have happened. We’re somewhere we shouldn’t be.” Jophiel mumbled quietly, her grip on Kerberos’ arm tightening slightly, enough that the demon actually took her words into consideration. 

He heaved a quiet sigh. “Then maybe we should get out of here.”

“No, a shard might have landed here. The irregularity is over there, we’re going, puppy.” 

There was a familiar sound of metal hitting against metal, swords, something they had had at their previous stop. This time, it was a very clear sound in the night, as the two swords came into contact. The moonlight reflects against the blade - at least, the parts that weren’t stained in blood.

“My apologies, Kazama-sama...” 

“Leave, Amagiri, I will handle this.” 

The oni with the larger build, white hair and horns bowed, holding onto a deep gasp and was starting to heal, and vanished into the night. 

Kerberos leaned over a bit. “...? That’s a demon too, but...”

“It’s an old race,” Jophiel explained quietly, as if the two remaining people might somehow hear them interrupting. “They’re not your type of demon that you know. Do you see it? I ...can definitely feel something off here. But I can’t tell if it’s these people or...” 

“You’re asking me. You drag me around. I don’t ‘feel’ anything strange about this situation at all.” Now that they were actually on the ground, Kerberos could attempt to kick at the grass, crossing his arms. 

“To be able to land such a firm hit on Amagiri, perhaps there is something more to the Shinsengumi than their putrid reputation. To have concerned the oni princess about it, heh... tell me, human, for what reason do you fight?”

The human being spoken to sheathed his weapon, but his hand doesn’t leave it, ready to strike at a moment’s notice. “I have no reason to tell you, an ally of the Satsuma that.”

“Then I will simply have to force it out of you, from your blade. You and your pack of humans who wear the name of oni, yet are nothing but fakes and a disgrace to our race.” The oni unsheathed his sword, raising it to the man before him, the blue and white dandara pattern haori stained red, so much that it dripped blood. 

“Shinsengumi... But this...”

“You’re making no sense at all, bird. Really, nobody gave a shit about history.”

“Wait! I see it! Over there!” The female chirped all too loudly, flying past the two were were locked in a staring contest, waiting for anything to signal the first move to be made. She crouched down at a tree, giving it a light knock. “It’s in here,” she confirmed.

“Great. What are we going to do, carry a whole tree back?” Asking sarcastically, Kerberos grumbled, crossing his arms. 

“No, but uhm...”

“Figure it out, it’s your job right?” He rolled his eyes, glancing back to the two behind them as he heard their fight start. 

“Your skill is but a human, in the end. Impressive, but nothing compared to an oni. There’s nothing in blade, tell me, if I were to pay you a higher price, and offer you a different shelter, like the Shinsengumi have done, suitable fighting opponents, will you come with me?”

“I got it! Whoa, we gotta get it back before it - ow - burns through my hand, c’mon!” Jophiel’s voice snaps Kerberos out from watching the scene unfold before him. 

And suddenly, they were back in the house. “Oh, come on! We were at the good part!”

“Hm? What good part?”

“Uuuugghhhhhhh.”

---赤い糸---

“Alright, all done. Let’s keep going.”

“...Keep going? But we just got back?” Kerberos scowled, staying seated in the chair that he was resting in while Jophiel was gone. 

“There’s two things I have to check one. One’s to ensure something happens, the other is to see if...something’s wrong because of it happening? Yeah.”

“You make no sense.”

“So let’s just go!” Skipping over, Jophiel tugged at Kerberos’ arm.

“...Zayne? Zayne? H-hey, this isn’t funny... you... wh...I...” 

When they had landed, neither of them was probably prepared for the sight before them. Two children, barely young adults, bloody. One of them were very obviously dead on the ground, while the other was stained in the first’s blood. 

“...Did I... I did ...this to you... no...no, I...” 

“Oi, this is sick. You just hop around to watch this kind of sick shit?” Kerberos tore his eyes from the sobbing child, his frown deepening at the angel who had teared up too. “Fucking hell, let’s go. Did you see what you need to?”

A quiet sniffle. “Y-yes. This is... fine. He’s dead.” She takes a deep breath, steadying herself and held onto Kerberos’ arm, leaving as the boy lets out a loud yell towards the sky. 

---赤い糸---

“W-who are you? Are you... Are you the... are you the person who’ll make my wish come true?” Having landed on his back, the boy with odd multi-coloured hair slowly shifted his position, looking at what almost seemed like a mirror, but no, that person in front of him looked like him, but wasn’t him. 

“Hm? Make your wish come true? But haven’t you already been doing that yourself? Harnessing the power of the Sennen Puzzle, punishing your bullies with the power of Mind Crush?”

“...You.” 

“Whoa.” Kerberos muttered quietly, watching the boy who he had assumed to be a pathetic high schooler... his tone had completely switch, and his body language different. 

“How do you know all of that? If you aren’t here to grant my wish... and nobody can see you... then you must have come from the puzzle. You’re here to grant my wish, right!? Why haven’t you shown up until now!? Do you know what I’ve gone through!? I only gave them what they deserved!”

“Wow, listen to this pity party.” Sitting on the air, the second person crossed his legs. 

“That’s definitely our type of demon. Well, closer related to us.” Kerberos muttered, getting a sound of agreement from Jophiel. “What’s wrong here?”

“This isn’t suppose to happen. There should have been something... in that, that should granted the boy’s wish, but..” Jophiel spoke quietly. 

“But? Don’t just stop, bird. What the fuck.” 

“...They’re connected by the string of fate too.” 

“...Are you high?”

“I am indeed in the air. They are connected, do you not see the faint connection between them now becoming obvious as they converse?”

“No, I see a really pissed off kid who feels sorry for himself and apparently has some dark powers and a demon who’s just toying with him.”

Jophiel sighed quietly. She didn’t think that Kerberos wouldn’t be able to see the ties between people. No wonder he didn’t understand the other places that they have been to. “I have confirmed that despite the unusual activity here, things are moving as they should. Let’s return.” 

---赤い糸---

A String forged in blood, in war, between a warrior who has yet to learn to live, and a free spirit who lived enough, who can teach and bring meaning into his own life. 

A String that shouldn’t have existed, threatening to fall apart. The blackened samurai who refuses to accept it, severing the String that the impatient, stubborn oni continues to fix.

A String fated to turn to black and crumble into the Earth, the ends of the string hanging on a sobbing boy’s blood stained hands, waiting for the return of the other end.

A String that should have existed, but didn’t. And a different one appeared, tentatively held onto by both parties, one out of loneliness, the other out of curiosity. Whether it will endure the time to come... nobody can tell.

And finally... Jophiel loosely toys with the many loose ends of the string that floated around her. Most of them had severed, blackened and some weren’t even present to be seen anymore.

But a faint, thin, line had recently appeared. 

“Why the fuck are you staring at me?” Not even looking away from the television, Kerberos snapped back at the angel not too far away from him.

“I wasn’t looking at you, just the direction this was going in.”

Title: The Bitter End

“So you really killed Kondou-san. Who would have thought you’d have the guts to do that?”

He doesn’t get a reply. He didn’t seem to mind and continued to speak.

“No, everyone knew you had it in you to do what’s best for the Shinsengumi.” His voice hid no malice behind it, only amusement. Even so, the captain of the first division drew his sword from his sheath at his side. “To kill Kondou-san, you should have expected that I would make a visit.” Okita Souji spoke to the back of the oni fukuchou, or should he say, oni kyoukcho. Without the commander around, the Sannan occupied with the task of the Ochimizu, there was only one person left who would rise to the spot of the commander.

The person he spoke to doesn’t even turn from his work, the ends of their sleeves of their purple light kimono was still stained in blood. From what Souji could understand, he doubted the man even cared if people within the Shinsengumi knew it was him who had done the deed. But that didn’t irritate him, what irritated him was how Hijikata Toshizo didn’t acknowledge him in the slightest, even with his sword out. He scowled, opening his mouth to speak again.

“Oi, you’re being noisy. Come in and close the door.” The voice stuns him, and Souji frowns in mild confusion before doing as told without realizing it.

Finally, Toshizo turned to face Souji. “I did expect you, and you should have been more careful. Saitou was ready to slit your throat, visiting me with a weapon by your side so late at night.”

Saitou? It takes Souji a moment of silence as he thinks over what he had done. He had been so consumed with the need to find Hijikata-san that... he didn’t notice Saitou’s presence. But that could mean that Hijikata-san was lying...”If you think I’ll lose to Hajime-kun, think again.” The haughty tone dropped as he continued to speak, but on a different topic.

“Kondou-san was mine. If he was to die, he should have died by my hands. Who do you think you are, taking that from me? Taking him from me!? Kondou-san is mine!” The tantrum was thrown, and Hijikata waits it out till Souji quietly coughed themselves into silence.

“Then the problem can be solved easily, if I become yours. I killed the person that was yours, so carrying that burden is the natural order.”

The way his serious tone hits the air makes Souji fall quiet for a moment before he starts laughing, then bursts out into louder, hysterical laughter. “You... You’re mine now. And I’ll kill you one day.” Then perhaps he should drop the honorifics. After all, the other was his - and it wasn’t like he was Kondou-san.

“...Toshizo.”

Hijikata Toshizo never does anything that isn’t for his sake as well. While he has given Souji the advantage of calling him their own, this also allows him to use Souji much more easily.

Title: Love Comes in Different Forms

She really shouldn’t be here. Of all places to be, she should not be here. 

But Zane had promised her safety.

Why she was taking the word of a human Servant was beyond her. But it was hard to not believe him when he sounded so genuine. She could be very much walking to her death right now. Seriously, seeing one of the leaders one the opposing side was one the most stupidest things she had ever decided to do. 

At least they weren’t going to a base or anything, it was just meeting at the bar that Zane worked at.

“...Why is he here?” 

“Hm?” Zane turned his attention to the person that the female vampire had questioned. “Oh,” he started, uncertain how to explain. Telling her they were meeting at an empty bar was one thing, but needing to outright lie was another thing. 

“Are you saying I can’t be here? Just ‘cause you think you’re Alphonse’s favourite doesn’t means you can dictate where I go, right, miss? Zane’s my friend too, I don’t know if I trust him with you.” The long red haired male vampire spoke, still leaning relaxed against the bar counter. 

This had all started when Zane started to talk to her more about herself. Amenia had explained to himself about why she was here, how she ended up in Therion. After Zane had heard that she had sided with the Therion not because of similar ideals, but because of a special connection, Amenia had noted that he had opened up a lot more to her. She didn’t care, at that point.

Alphonse had promised to help her, and they had gone to different places, he had done as he promised. She didn’t see reason to go back on her word to be useful. But, steadily, Zane and her relationship grew. This friendship was something she didn’t want to lose. But when he had asked her about the person she was seeking, she realized there wasn’t much she could tell Zane about her sister. She had red hair, like herself when she was human. When asked about anything else, where she originated from, what else from her past she could remember that would help Zane and his ‘contacts’ help look for her sister, Amenia could only stare at him.

It wasn’t because she was surprised he wanted to help. Zane always wanted to help, despite being a human, caught in a war that belonged to vampires, he wanted to help someone like her who was with the enemy. “...Zane, I...I don’t know. Lor...I mean, he, he never asked me this much about my sister...” Her shoulders had drooped. “I... don’t remember. I don’t know...where I’m from. I know I used to have red hair, I know my sister does, because she has long red hair too...”

“...You... do not remember about yourself?”

“It’s... a bit silly, isn’t it?”

“How can you not have told anyone about this? How can the person closest to you, not have asked you about this? He is the person closest to you, correct?”

“It’s not his fault!” When Zane grew angry, she was quick to her feet to defend him. “...Sorry,” she takes a seat again. “He’s busy, the fact that he’s helping is more than I can ask for.”

“No, do not apologize. I suppose I may have stepped over the line. I will ask my friends about your sister. And also... this odd predicament you suffer from.”

That was why he was standing here, trying to diffuse the situation between the two vampires in the bar. “Raven is my friend too, really, he probably just wants a drink later when the bar opens...” He had thought instead of searching with such vague descriptions, he should see if it was possible to clear her memory so she would have a better idea of the family member she was searching for. 

“Hmph.” 

Zane watches the white haired vampire cross her arms, glare away. He breathed out a quiet sigh. “Please stay here,” he spoke gently as usual. “I will go get him.” 

“Nah, don’t worry about it, Zane, he’s--” Raven’s warning came a moment too late, and he found himself biting back a chuckle as the human jolted slightly to the extra presence beside him. He had learned this was a typical scene. Doesn’t mean it wasn’t funny. 

It was probably all too obvious how comfortable the only female vampire felt about the situation. Despite if anything, Zane should be the one who was most concerned, being human and probably the least capable of protecting himself if a fight was to break out. 

“I’m only doing this because I trust you, Zane.”

“I know, thank-you.” Zane ignores the quiet scoff from Raven. “And I invited you here only because I trust you as well.” He smiled softly, offering a hand. 

“Zane...” Finally, the fourth person spoke up in concern when Amenia took Zane’s hand approached the other male vampire in the room. 

“Please.”

They had expected the worse. It was why Blake had made Zane agree that Raven should be present as well. Zane didn’t blame him for being concerned, after all, the Amenia that Raven knew was slightly different to the Amenia that Zane described. But he trusted her, despite being on opposite factions. He wouldn’t say he was great on judging people, but he wouldn’t say he was bad at it. Zane knew that the female vampire wouldn’t turn on them, not when they were trying to help her. 

He was pulled back by a hand, holding him back with strength that he couldn’t fight against. Zane glanced back to Raven, watching his friend slump to the round and hold her head. While he trusted Amenia, he also trusted Blake. The other wasn’t one to pull underhanded tricks, he would be actually trying to help her.

Blake had told Zane about the different possibilities that would have caused his friend to be unable to remember things about their past, and while medical issues were things that Zane already knew, the other factors that may have come into play were things he hadn’t heard of before. So when Blake stepped back, Zane could only turn to him and hope to have an answer as to whether it had been successful. 

His attention shifted when the sound of the door echoed, the bar door closing. “Amenia?!” The grip on his arm had loosened, so Zane ran towards the door, stepping outside. She wasn’t anywhere to be seen. 

“It should have been successful, what she remembered may have caused the reaction.”

Zane’s confusion expression received an answer from Blake, and he nodded quietly back, turning his attention back to the cold air outside. As his phone buzzes and he pulled it out quickly, and he breathed out a quiet sigh of relief at the sender. 

‘Thank-you. I’m sorry, I just need some time alone.’

The head on his shoulder makes him jolt slightly, Zane offering a bit of a displeased gaze to Raven as he looked over his shoulder at the message. 

“She okay? Really, I think it’s kinda stupid, looking for someone of so long ago. Her sister’s probably dead, right?”

“It would seem that she is fine. Do not speak ill of her determination to look for her family.”

“True, he stuck around with that asshole just to look for her sister, that’s some will, alright.”