Miho Chan
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Eevee Therapy: Chapter 5, Not fun to Fight Through
🕑 Added 2023-04-01 23:53:31 +0000 UTCKiritsugu Emiya looked up from his book as the door opened, the sounds of the hospital’s long-term ward filtering through the open portal before the tiny orderly pranced in. Kiri’s ‘personal apprentice healer’ skipped up the small stepstool by his bedside, a pair of wine-red eyes peering at him. “Good afternoon, Mr. Emiya. How are you feeling today?” The Kirlia asked.
“I am well, Amelie. The curse is gone, as you and Healer Blissey confirmed.” Kiritsugu replied pleasantly, relaxing as best he could in the hospital bed. “Though I suppose I am mildly bored. I finished the last book on my current list last night.”
“At some point, I will convince you to read fiction.” His chief minder huffed. “I know you want to learn more about this world, but there comes a time when you need to take a break. And that time has come and gone.” Looking around, her eyes narrowed. “...hold on. I smell… sweat. Have you been exercising again?”
Kiritsugu nodded, not at all ashamed. “Only lightly, as Healer Blissey ordered. I am wildly out of shape, and thus am attempting to return to the peak of my fitness as best as I am able. I will live longer if I am healthy, after all.”
“You already have two hours of supervised physical therapy per day, Kiri,” the little psychic admonished. “Now that we’ve purged that awful curse, there’s no rush for you to get back on your feet–” Her thoughts halted as the lights flickered. Kiri’s mild concern morphed into near-panic as Amelie bent over, clutching her head, mouth opening into a curdled “LEEE-”
“Amelie, what is wrong?” Kiri’s arms shot out, catching the Kirlia as she bent over in pain. “What–” He stopped dead as the entire building shook. He scrambled out of the bed as the lights went out, the room falling into darkness moments before emergency lamps lit in the corners. “Amelie,” Kiritsugu’s voice turned dangerous. “My belongings. Where are they.”
“...pain. So much– why are they–” Amelie’s voice was fragile and mournful. “Why here?”
Kiri grimaced, eyeing the door before moving to stand beside it. Cracking it open, he blessed his habit of getting dressed at the beginning of each day before picking up Amelie and moving into the mostly empty hallway, dodging around the few physicians who were pushing patients into their rooms. The one nurse who turned to address him stopped dead as Kiri’s stride and gait shifted.
One of the Machoke orderlies took one look at Kiri and advanced to him. “Choke-ma.” He grunted.
Amelie stirred in Kiri’s arms. “...downstairs. Your gear is in the basement.” She whispered. “But the invaders… they’re on the first floor.” Her eyes shot open. “Taking– no, no, no!”
Kiritsugu grimaced at the little Pokemon’s pained cries. “Sleep, Amelie. Sensing their suffering will do nothing but drive you insane. Block it, if you can.” With more deadly purpose, the magus killer turned to the Machaoke. “I need anything I can use as an improvised weapon. Whoever is attacking the hospital is likely doing so with a goal in mind, and will take hostages. I intend to educate them on why attacking a place of healing is a unforgivable sin.”
The Machoke grimaced, before heading towards one of the nearby cabinets, emerging with a wide bat. “Choke,” he said reluctantly, handing over the cricket bat.
As Kiri took the weapon, he felt a small hand touch his temple. “...you need a guide,” Amelie said, her mental voice steadying. “I… your mind is… laser sharp,” she said, and Kiri felt her connecting herself to him. “Stable, for all it’s rifts. I will lean on it.”
Kiri’s eyes widened. “Amelie–”
“I know you, Mr. Emiya… Magus Killer. What you’ve done is foul. But not evil, only cruelty in a cruel world. And right now, we need that.” Amelie’s eyes closed. “And you need a guide, and an interpreter. They’re coming up the stairs. Get there first,” she instructed. To his credit, Kiritsugu did hesitate. But then the old training kicked in and he nodded once, moving to an ambush position right where the door would open and waiting. He did not have to wait long, a pair of ridiculously dressed men saunting through the open door with all the confidence in the world.
None of that mattered in the face of a cricket bat, and both grunts were floored, both heavily concussed. Kiritsugu refused to pull his punches, not when they were wilfully committing terrorism. Stooping, Kiri grunted as he retrieved the firearms they carried, before having to dodge back as the two Pokeballs they carried erupted.
One ball spat out a small black hound, white skulls dotting its frame, while the other opened to reveal a small blue toad with orange markings. Kiri leveled his stolen pistol, bullets breaking the Houndor’s aura and sending it tumbling, while the Crogunk only had a moment to take in his surroundings before a pink aura flared around it and sent it tumbling to the ground unconscious.
“Thank you,” Kiri murmured.
“We’ll only keep the element of surprise so long,” Amelie sent back. “More are coming up the stairs– most trainers, most civilians aren’t used to guns.”
“Interesting,” Kiritsugu mused, unloading the magazine of the pistol rapidly to check how many rounds he had. Seven. Good. “Well, I suppose we’ll educate them then, Amelie.” The somewhat former assassin mused, moving into the stairwell with grace that spoke of a lifetime of practice, idly shooting one of the terrorists in the head as he descended down the staircase.
One of the other men, dressed in the same sharp red outfit, stumbled as he rounded the flight. “You– you killed him!” He yelled, scrabbling for a pokeball at his hip.
Kiri grimaced as he put a bullet in the man’s chest. “...not professionals. What were they expecting?” He asked softly, stepping on the Pokeball to keep it from opening as he headed further down.
“Most of the people here battle for fun, if they do at all. Some of the doctors and chiefs are strong Pokemon or have them, but not many. And those…”
“Yours is a more peaceful world. Lethal force would be uncommon, and thus he was surprised when I defaulted to it?” Kiritsugu guessed, receiving a nod from the Kirlia. “An understandable mindset.” He raised his gun as two more trainers burst into the stairwell, shooting down at them before they could react. “But… sometimes, restrictive.”
“You’re not a monster, Kirisugu.”
“No, I am not. A monster would delight in their deaths. I am saddened that they were necessary in the first place, but I will not extend unreasonable mercy to those who attack a place of healing.” Kiritsugu replied softly, “And unfortunately, I cannot spare them without great risk to myself and the others within this building. So die they will.”
“I’m not complaining. Just trying to keep you from slipping,” Amelie sighed. “This is going to set your therapy back so far. And your PT! The strain is going to be hell on your muscles!”
“Better me than any of you.”
“Maybe. But that’s up to us to decide,” Amelie shot back as they reached the ground floor. “Make a sweep of this level, or are we going to go after your gear downstairs?”
Kiritsugu paused, checking how many magazines and weapons he had managed to scavenge. Not that many. “We will clear this floor,” Kiritsugu declared tiredly. “They’d have heard the gunfire, and any hostages would be at risk.”
He slid to the door, opening it and slipping through in time to hear a loud voice speaking down the hallway, in the atrium. Kiri cursed as one red-clad man stopped dead upon seeing him, before spinning to run. Kiri blinked, slowing time enough to catch up, snapping the man’s neck in his rush. He grimaced as the rush of movement caught up with him, bones creaking.
Kiri shushed Amelie from speaking, moving along the corridor to home in on the booming voice. “...your resistance is futile, as you can hear. My companions are already securing the building,” the voice rolled out. “Now, the password, please.”
“...what do you even want with medical data?” Doctor Ferrier, one of the physicians who’d overseen Kiri’s testing, was tapping away at a portable computer, the device itself hooked up a cable splice in the floor. Looking around the room, Kiri saw a large portion of the hospital staff herded onto one wall, guns and pokemon trained on them while a smaller group was being bound. Ferrier was sweating as a tall man in red, black hair contrasting with his pale skin, stood over him, a bulky purple scorpion at his side.
“Not your concern, Doctor. Transfer all the data onto this device.” The tall man shook his head. “Creating a better world requires power, and knowledge serves that goal perfectly.”
“Amelie, can you move that pencil tin slightly, enough that it tips over?” Kiritsugu asked the little Kirlia as he assessed the state of the room. He could probably clear it. In Time Alter: Square Accel. This was going to hurt. A lot. A distraction to start things off would work wonderfully, especially since he had enough guns on him after shamelessly looting the grunts to execute every person in this room, including the grunts. Just enough. But it was enough.
“...they don’t have any psychic types, so they won’t sense me doing it. I can do it.”
Kirisugu nodded, moving into the room as the metal case began to fall. As it clattered to the ground, drawing the vast majority of the eyes in the room to the fallen object, Kiri raised his pistol, centering on the humans first. His eyes narrowed as he began to fire, hitting targets with center-of-mass shots one by one. As the shocked enemies, still disoriented from the noise, spun towards him, Kiri triggered his accel.
“Time Alter: Square Accel!”
With the incantation stated within his mind, the Emiya patriarch blurred before human eyes, rapidly pulling out a new pistol and tracking new targets, prioritizing those that were reacting fast enough. Fifteen bullets left the pistol that was oh so similar to the Glock Twelve from his homeland, twelve bullets found their home in the heads of the ridiculously dressed terrorists. The remainder, including the leader whose purple pokemon absorbed the shots, dove for cover or began to shower his position with attacks, even as two of their number who hadn’t been targeted fainted at the sight.
Kiri wheezed as he dropped out of the Accel, pain rocketing through his body. “Shit–” He mumbled before sighing in relief as Amelie hit him with a Heal Pulse. “Thank you.” He muttered, before the sounds of firing broke apart into yells and hastily barked words.
Kiri leaned back out into the room, eyes widening as he watched a Machamp orderly throw a black hellhound across the room. As Kiri watched, the remaining terrorists and their stunned and disorganized Pokemon were counter-attacked by the hospital staff and a trio of trainers, whose teams began to fight back now that the threat of guns was set aside.
“Mr. Emiya.” Kiri jolted as Doctor Gardevoir blinked to his side, a pink barrier cutting off some spare shots. “I believe we have this handled for now. But the basement seems to have more of these men, and our efforts will have alerted them to their failure.”
“I was making my way down there anyway.” The Magus Killer answered blandly, standing straight as he made his way back towards the stairway, “I’d recommend evacuating. From what I know of this world, I don’t believe the terrorists intend to leave survivors.”
Gardevoir paused, then blinked away, seizing the head of the vest-wearing man in her hands. After a few moments, her eyes shot wide open, spinning back to Kiri. “No… but they are going to try and use an experimental memory-erasing gas on the entire building. As a ‘field test.”
Amelie winced. “That would explain why they are being so brazen. They do not expect any consequences from this attack.”
Kiri nodded, heading towards the basement access stairs. “Heading on down.”
“Hey, I heard that!” Kiri half-turned to see a man in a blue gendarme uniform run up behind him, pistol in hand and escorted by a white dog pokemon and a brown crocodile. “Mercenary, right? Thank you for the assist, but you cannot go alone!” He tapped his badge. “I will join you.”
Kiritsugu paused fractionally, before nodding. “Rules of engagement?” Best to go along with law enforcement so he didn’t end up in too much trouble after the fact.
“All-in.” The man grunted. He glanced over his shoulder, and Kiri followed his gaze to see several bodies not in red clothing. “They shot some of the security staff to prove their point. Leave them alive if possible. Kill them if you cannot leave them safely.”
“Understood.” The former assassin replied, eyes flinty. Executing hostages to prove a point was the behavior of a lunatic. A bully, if he was using a much more quaint term.
The two men and their accompanying pokemon hit the stairs, opening the door to find a red-clad man facing them. Immediately, the former assassin moved into the man’s personal space and engaged him in hand to hand, successfully knocking the man to the floor after a short struggle. The terrorist fell back, bouncing down the stairs to collapse in a heap at the bottom.
“...huh. I bet they know we’re coming now.” The policeman murmured. “Let’s go.” He headed on, down Kiri following behind. As they descended, the man coughed. “So… are you psychic?”
Kiritsugu shook his head, pausing for a moment before explaining, “Magic.”
“Huh. I always thought of that as more subtle. Curses and the like. Maybe potions.” The man muttered as he hit the bottom of the stairs. “So… who’s paying you for this?”
“I was hospitalized here recently as treatment against a… particularly annoying curse. These… ruffians disturbed my rest. I am expressing my irritation with them pro-bono,” Kiritsugu replied dryly, a quirk of his eyebrow the only betrayal of his amusement.
“...huh. Odd that none of them offered you money.” The man responded, looking around the corner, only to duck back as a blast of fire flew through where his head had been. “Okay, two Houndour and a pair of men. Krokorock, want to handle them?”
“Rok!” The brown alligator lunged out of the hallway, blasts of mud shooting from its mouth towards unseen enemies, the bullets sent his way in response blocked as the white hound interposed itself in the way, a baleful glare sent out over a black muzzle.
The man pivoted into the room, firing at the men inside. “Police, get down on the ground!”
“Flare will rise, you pig–” One voice sounded out, before the white dog sprung into the room, cutting off the shout with a growled “Fur-fou!”
Amelie snickered. “Refined hound, my pretty green buttocks. That dog has a mouth on her.”
Kiritsugu’s lips twitched before he pivoted into the room and turned his borrowed firearms on the Flare(?) grunts, “On the floor unless you wish to die.”
The still upright grunt looked the assassin in the eye, before letting his gun slip through his fingers. “...not worth dying here. Where did it go wrong?” He said the last words in a whisper.
The policeman only shook his head as he cuffed both the men, pulling out restraints and ball locks for the two grunts. As he arranged the men in position, Dr. Gardevoir warped into the room. “Mr. Emiya, this room is adjacent to our secure lockers. If you’d like to retrieve your gear now, head through–” one door in the room swung open in a pink glow “-that one.”
“Thank you, Doctor.” Kiritsugu bowed respectfully, before quickly making his way into the locker room and securing his own gear. Amelie hopped down from his shoulder to go rooting through another box as he removed his clothes from the hooks within. Pulling both his standard pistol and his Thompson Contender from the locker, he frowned as he lifted a silver box from the back of the locker. Flipping it open, he stared. “...I should only have twenty six left. How….” He muttered, looking at the six rows of eleven origin bullets.
Amelie shivered as she hopped back on his shoulder. “So this is where your ribs went… regrowing those was a pain.”
“Ah. That was nice of all of you to do, but unnecessary. Those ribs were expendable anyway.” Kiritsugu replied mildly, shaking his head. “No matter, we need to move on anyway. Thank goodness my Sniper and Uzi made the transition as well. I’m sure I’ll need both later…”
As he withdrew his gear and swung it over his back, Amelie peered at the silver bullet-box. “...huh. Not often to see a wheel of Arceus outside a temple. I didn’t think you a devotee.”
Kiri peered at the box, frowning. “Who’s Arceus?”
“...um. I guess your studies didn’t talk about legendaries?”
Kiri paused. “You mean your gods?”
“Yes?”
“Do they interact with mortals at all? If not–”
“Yeah, about that.”
“... Interesting…” Kiritsugu mused. “That would explain the ambient levels of mana being moderately higher here…”
“Right. Terrorists now?”
Kiri nodded, stowing the box in his side pouch and throwing his long coat over his trousers and t-shirt. “...one of those expandable bags will be a good investment,” he muttered, before pivoting and joining the policeman as he prepared to head through the door marked “Maintenance.”
“Ready?”
“Yes. Do you want me on point?” Kiritsugu asked, nodding respectfully at the man.
The man looked at him oddly, even as the hound (Furfou, Kiri supposed) chuffed at his side. “...no, let’s let the furry tank lead.” He eyed his partner. “On go, you know what to do.”
“Fou!”
The man nodded, then put his back against the wall beside the door. “On three. One, two, three– GO!” He snapped one arm out, yanking the door open as he went. Immediately, Furfou charged in, bullets sinking into and stopped by her thick fur even as the Krokorok and man swung out behind their partner.
Kiri spun to follow them, taking in the situation. The wide room was filled with machinery and boxes, and the Flare agents wearing respirators had piled crates to form cover points and barricades even as they and their Pokemon fired back. In the rear corner, a man in a white coat frantically tried to affix several tanks to what appeared to be the central air system. Without any pause whatsoever, the Magus Killer double-tapped the white-coated man, not at all willing to let him finish with his plans. The first bullet connected, before a silvery screen of light blocked the second bullet, a green blob sending up the barrier even as the man collapsed, screaming.
“Shit! Kill them, get the tank hooked up, or Flare–” The chatty man ate a bullet before he could finish speaking, Kiri quickly moving to take out the shooters even as his allies moved to face the remaining enemies.
One man held up a Pokeball, arm shaking. “I challenge you to–” he said, before Kiri put a bullet in his leg, and he collapsed screaming.
“Stay down and you won’t get more hurt.” The man grunted, before turning his attention to the still active shooters.
Minutes later, the room was clear, groaning figures and silent bodies lining the room. As Kiri holstered his gun, he heard the policeman give a quiet cough. “...I can tell you’re no coeur malicieux. But did something happen to your team?”
“Ah, no. I am what the people of this world call a faller. The term ‘mystery gift’ is often used as well.” The Emiya patriarch replied idly, moving to ensure that the man in the lab coat was either dead or incapacitated, preferably the latter. He could have some useful information after all.
“...mon Dieu." The man coughed. “I see, then. It would explain why I’ve never heard of a man like you… or why you bear so many very illegal weapons, for civilians at least, without care.” He looked aside. “I was prepared to look the other way… but given the circumstances, I might–”
“Such discussion can wait until after we’ve brought the wounded upstairs.” Doctor Gardevoir warped into the room, and began levitating the still-living grunts. “Mr. Emiya, thank you for your intervention. But things are about to be very complicated, and we need to talk about it.”
“I understand. I have been reading the laws and circumstances of this world for a reason, but even then I am admittedly on as well taught as a child at the moment. A child about to start their journey, mind, but a child all the same.” He sighed, before grinning. “At least I managed to save the people in this hospital.”
“You did. Including most of us.” Gardevoirs face tightened. “However, that’s not what I meant.”
Minutes later, upstairs, Kiri watched as the various Flare members (those still alive) were herded into the middle of the room. The gendarme shook his head as cries of shock sounded as red wigs and glasses were removed, corpses and living members being identified. “...the old nobility. Servants of the same, corporate investors. These… these are not typical terrorists. Why would these people do this?”
“This world is rotten, overcrowded, and corrupt.” The vested man from earlier spoke up, his handsome face marred from where his glasses had been driven into his eye from a well-placed punch. “Thwarting us here will not stop us from making a new world out of the old.”
“Monsieur Renault.” Gardevoir’s mental voice was dull. “What the hell are you talking about?”
The man chuckled weakly from the ground. “You will see, eventually. Briefly. Then not at all.” He turned his glare on Kirisugu. “But you… Emiya.” He spat the name. “Eighteen of my comrades are dead because of you, and your actions here thwart the true power of Kalos. Do you even know what you have done?”
The Emiya patriarch stayed silent. He was more than used to the ramblings of mages, and nobility would likely be no different. Ignoring an enemy was a great insult, after all.
“Well, we know you now.” Renault hissed. “Flare burns, assassin. We will wipe you clean from the world. And as we burn away your hideous hide, we will cleanse all that associates with you.” He grinned, bloodied teeth from his split lip bared. “Lay down and die quietly, beast, and spare the world your presence.”
“... Big words for a terrorist organization that will be hunted to the ends of this Earth.” The Magus Killer whispered with deadly intent. Stalking up to the noble, he looked down upon him, “I know your type, Noble. You bark pathetically. But you will only whimper when I am done with your organization.”
The man quailed back from the glare, setting his shoulders. “Oh, going to go straight into the lion’s den? Good, you will spare us the trouble.” He grimaced as the policeman hauled him to his feet, even as a fresh group of gendarmes entered the room, led by a man in a long leather overcoat. “This is not the end of Flare, and will not be the last you’ll see of me.” He swore as he was hauled back.
Kiritsugu simply smiled, “If I see you again, you will die, little man.” Shrugging, he turned back to the doctors, quirking an eyebrow. “I would be on the lookout for bribes. Old Nobility and old money. Likely some billionaires as well.”
Gardevoir shook her head. “You’re not at all concerned that he just threatened you with death.”
“Kiri’s heard it all before.” Amelie sighed from his shoulder. “But he is worried. For the rest of us.”
“I hunted far more dangerous targets than that man,” The magus killer said, utterly unconcerned. “And the noble likely does not realize I have more than enough ways to equalize a fight between myself and a Pokemon. I am a magus, after all.” He frowned. “But she’s right. I will need to leave, if only to keep you all from the crossfire.”
“Yeah. Doctor, I’m going to have to end my apprenticeship here.” Amelie said regretfully, even as she telepathically lifted a pokeball from Kiri’s bag. “Can you make certain I’m taken off the hospital registrar?”
“Found your calling then, Amelie? I am glad. You never did suit the role of a doctor. You always struck me more as a combat medic. Go, you silly girl.” The Gardevoire replied with more amusement than either of the pair expected, “What? I am not an idiot. I’ve worked here for decades, and I served during one of the more recent wars on the backlines. I’ve seen the attitude of combat medics. You fit them.”
“... I will not question your resolve, Amelie,” Kiritsugu said simply. He knew better than to argue with a woman that’d set her mind to something, and calling the Kirlia a child would be simply insulting when she was the human equivalent of eighteen. Nevermind that she was young enough to be his daughter.
“Well, at least you know you need me here.” Amelie sniffed as she dropped the ball back into his bag. “You’re not getting out of your treatments that easily.”
As Kiri moved to respond, a loud voice came from nearby. “Excuse me, Mr. Mercenary!” Kiri pivoted to spot the brown-coated man walking towards him, whipping out a badge. “I heard from the local police about your actions here! And your status.” He held up the badge. “I am Agent Looker of the International Police Investigation Division! Before anything else, are you suffering from memory loss?”
Kiritsugu, to his credit, only paused for a moment before shaking his head, “No, I am not.”
“Ah, good. So we do not need to offer that service!” Looker flipped his badge shut before pulling out a pad of paper. “Now, I could hear that you are quite busy… and have just been threatened by an enemy team.” He was quickly writing on the paper. “Now, do you want to become a member of Interpol? You need not answer at this time.”
Kiritsugu shakes his head, “Not at this time. I will definitely consider your offer, however,” he said, before pausing. “Is it possible to be taken on as a contractor so I may carry the weapons I am now informed are highly illegal for a civilian to hold?”
“That is a possibility! For now, please keep them out of sight.” Looker ripped the page from his notebook, then placed it inside a thick pamphlet he produced from his coat. “This is a key points pamphlet and a guide to modern Garde, along with my international phone number! Please do not break too many laws, I do not think I wish to have to try and arrest you.”
“I see.” Kiri nodded. “Thank you.”
“Regardless, I have already had my agents pull up the data, and will have proper documentation sent to you soon, if I do not see you.” He reached into one pocket and pulled out a small pouch. “This contains the… I suppose bounty, for these men. Please let us know if you’re going to continue rooting out Flare; we would appreciate advance notice to have pickup ready for your captures.”
“... I will make sure to contact the number you provided Agent Looker.” Kiritsugu bowed deeply and respectfully. It was very nice that the Law Enforcement of this world was competent. And willing to work with him.
“Thank you!” Looker nodded back. “Even the well meaning Fallers often cause… a lot of headaches.” He sighed. “Why do they insist on poking Legendaries…” He murmured before looking back up. “Now, we need to process all these men. Have a good day, and stay safe, please!” Looker turned and ran back towards the gathering policemen, one of whom was about to pull out a Pokeball. “No, you cannot let your captures challenge you for their freedom!”
“... The only competent police branch. Got it.” Kiritsugu rolled his eyes. “To be expected, I suppose. And what kind of insane idiot would poke literal gods?” He then thought about Magi. “Right, those type of idiots.”
Amelie snickered. “Ah, arrogance… do you know how many morons think I’m an easy target because I’m cute?”
“Probably more than I’d expect,” Kiritsugu replied with a tired shrug. “People are universally idiots.”
“Agreed.” She nodded. “So. We’re off?”
“I suppose so.” He looked back at Gardevoir. “Thank you for your help. Do I pay at the desk, or…”
“Even if cases like yours weren’t subsidized, we wouldn’t ask you to pay after this,” Gardevoir responded. “I will warn you– most people are not as cavalier about death dealt as we are. Stay safe, and stay cautious.”
“I will. Thank you, Doctor Gardevoir, it was a pleasure.” With that, the Magus Killer departed, eyes steely as he began to stalk into the city of Lumiose, hunting for his chosen targets…
“As much as I respect the old man and his skills, he tends to be more methodical than aggressive. Also, stalking?” Shirou questioned as he eyed his sister.
“You want me to tell the story, I’ll be the one to tell the story.” Illya huffed.
On the screen and half a world away, Rin sighed. “Well, given what you’ve told me about your father, I can rest at peace knowing that the insane lunatics that pissed him off won’t be a problem ever again. They still tell stories about the Magus Killer to children, from what I’ve heard.”
Sakura shook her head. “...I know Grandfather did. But I met him once, and… well…” She looked over at Shirou. “He seemed more reserved, then cold, if that made any sense?”
“Sounds about right. The old man always did have trouble talking about his feelings.” Shirou sighed. “Anyway, it’s good to see you’re both doing alright. Sakura…” He grimaced. “I’m sorry. For not–”
“It’s okay, Shirou-kun. You couldn’t have known, and I don’t blame you. I never did.” Sakura interjected kindly, “Just promise me a battle when we meet again, okay?”
“...you’re getting into this, I see.” Shirou murmured. “Of course, Sakura.” He blinked twice. “Ah, so… are we going to meet up, or–”
Illya cut her brother off. “Not going to happen,” she deadpanned. “We have an obligation to Professor Rowan, remember? And Cynthia’s offered us guidance.”
On the other side, Rin shook her own head. “...and on our side, well… Sakura’s been adopted, and I can’t say I’m leaving her anytime soon.” She looked down, then eeped slightly as Agate leapt up to nestle her head under Rin’s own. “Agate says she’ll work on teleporting, and then we can eventually do meet-ups without breaking the bank.” She frowned. “Plane tickets that far are murder on the wallet.”
Shirou nodded reluctantly. “That makes sense. Sorry, I was mostly suggesting it in case we figured it’d be better to be together.”
“I think we’re both set for our journeys, anyway,” Sakura demurred. “We leave tomorrow.”
“...so do we,” Illya muttered. “Hey, we all got an Eevee, and the two pairs showed up with our siblings. How much do you wanna bet some Legendary is screwing with us?”
“No bet,” Rin, Sakura, and Shirou chorused, snickering as they noticed.
Illya shook her head. “Well… I suppose we’re all going to have an adventure. Does that make us all heroes?”
“Depends on who we defeat along the way,” Rin mused.
“Who we manage to save,” Shirou murmured quietly.
“And what we manage to accomplish,” Sakura finished, clenching one fist.
Far to the south, on the same continent as the Emiya siblings, a young man bedded down for the night. He was prepared, or so he thought, for the journey to come, and had planned his starter meticulously. He didn’t know that an incident both eighteen months in the future and fifty-five years in the past had already decided his chosen partner.
In a lab off the coast, a mind was formed in an unnatural body. Soon, the physical god created in a lab would be let loose, and start his own journey to becoming an actual person; but for now, this clone slept, unknowing of the lives and hopes which would be placed in the palm of his hand.
In darkened streets, a man in a long black coat slipped into an alley, seeing the world for the first time. Looking down at a map, he set his sights on a smaller town, looking for a place to get his bearings, guided by his newest partner.
And in the heavens, two figures watched.
“Well, Mew. Is this enough entertainment for you?” One said in an utter deadpan, receiving only the deep belly laughter of one of their oldest children. “This is why I don’t generally like you up here. You still find the most random things utterly hilarious.”
“But it is! So much serendipity, and I just had the best idea ever!”
And four children, half a world apart but bound by fate to a contest which may now never happen, rested and prepared for adventures which would shape their entire lives.
“Also, your narration is way too serious. Who even talks like that?”
Oi, we’re trying to do our job here. You go back to looking at the TV all amused like, mister eons old child.
“Okay!”
