Anomaly Ch. 45

The exit of the merchant’s district was just as opulent as you would expect, since it also doubled as the entrance to the noble district. Higher walls that none in the rebel army could have scaled, and with a thickness that they couldn’t break through even if they wanted to.

It was clear, however, from the sparse people patrolling on top that the guard was quite lacking, and that the nobility inside the walls were relying on the walls themselves to protect them. At least until the main army arrives back home.

As Shirou approached the gate, Anatoly in cuffs behind him, he was quickly spotted by what few patrols were there. With the lack of action that these guards would have faced, as the rebel army had focused more on getting out than getting further in, it was hardly surprising when the guards panicked at the sight of him and Anatoly.

“I am Chulainn!” He shouted with a raise of his hand, “The Princess knows of who I am! I come to you with the leader of the rebels!”

The guards hesitated, exchanging uncertain glances. One of them, a grizzled veteran with a scar running down his cheek, stepped forward, his spear held at the ready, "You expect us to believe that? The rebels have been slaughtering our men, and now you just happen to have their leader in chains?"

Shirou smirked, letting just enough arrogance seep into his tone, "Believe what you will. But if you'd rather explain to the Emperor why you turned away the man who captured the Yaga warlord, be my guest." He jerked his thumb toward Anatoly, who played his part perfectly. Glowering, shoulders hunched, but with a defeated slump to his posture.

The guards muttered among themselves. The scarred one narrowed his eyes, "And why should we trust you? You’re not Imperial. You don’t even look like one of the auxiliaries."

“Like I said, the Princess knows who I am, call her and you’ll find I’m telling the truth.”

“And I’m a damned Red Dragon! You expect us to believe that sack of crock?!”

The scarred guard spat to the side, grip tightening on his spear. Shirou could see the tension in the man’s stance - he was itching for a fight, likely frustrated by the chaos of the past few days and eager to take it out on someone.

Shirou exhaled through his nose, keeping his expression neutral, 'This is going to be a pain.'

The scarred guard’s eye twitched. He glanced back at his comrades, who shifted uncomfortably. After a tense silence, one of the younger guards cleared his throat.

"Sir, maybe we should at least send word to the palace? If he’s lying, we can deal with him then. But if he’s telling the truth..."

"What is with this yelling?" The familiar voice of Princess Piña sounded from the wall.

The guards immediately stiffened, snapping to attention as the Princess emerged atop the gate, her polished armor gleaming in the sunlight. Her sharp eyes flicked from Shirou, widening in recognition, then to Anatoly.

"Guards," She said, her voice cool and measured, though there was an underlying relief there, "Open the gates."

The scarred guard hesitated, his grip on his spear tightening, "Your Highness, this man claims to have captured the rebel leader, but we have no proof-"

"Did I stutter?" Piña's voice cut through like a whip, her gaze icy. The guard flinched, then bowed deeply, signaling for the others to lower the gate. The heavy wooden doors groaned as they slowly descended, forming a bridge over the small moat separating the districts.

The first thing they saw was less of the opulence he had expected, and more of a refugee camp, similar to the one on the other side of the merchant’s district. Unlike that one, though, there were no beggars to be seen, and the air was less depressing, and more annoyed. As if this entire fiasco was something of a mild inconvenience than anything.

The magus had to bite his tongue to stop himself from scowling.

This camp was more or less for those merchants who’d been rich enough, or close enough, to get into the noble district. They quite clearly didn’t care what was happening, only that it was affecting their bottom margins.

At least the Princess wasn’t like that, else, he’d have reconsidered offering his help.

Speaking of whom, Shirou gave the Princess a respectful nod as he stepped forward, leading Anatoly behind him. The Yaga kept his head low, playing the part of the defeated warlord perfectly, though Shirou could feel the tension in the man’s muscles, ready to act if things went south.

Piña descended the stairs from the wall, her expression unreadable as she approached. "Sir Chulainn." She said, her tone carefully neutral, "You return with quite the prize."

"Princess." Shirou smiled at her with a nod, "I told you I would assist you, did I not?"

At that, Piña looked away with a grimace, "You did. I- Sir Chulainn, I would like to formally apologize." To many a spectator's shock, even Anatoly's, the Princess bowed to Shirou, "I have acted against the honor of my people, leaving you to flee with my tail between my legs. With the gods as my witness, I shall make things right. You have my word."

"Raise your head, Princess." Shirou firmly spoke, even as he himself was slightly ashamed by the tone of remorse from the other redhead, "You did what you had to do. No honor was lost, nor tarnished, I assure you."

"Regardless of how you may feel, Sir Chulainn, I fear I do not feel the same."

Piña straightened, her expression resolute despite the lingering guilt in her eyes. "But we can discuss this later. For now, you’ve brought us a valuable prisoner." Her gaze shifted to Anatoly, her lips thinning, "The Emperor will want to question him personally."

"If it's alright, I wish to be the one to guard this one." Shirou nodded towards Anatoly, "I fear that those who are unused to his tricks may be caught off guard."

The Princess took a moment to think, before nodding, "That can be arranged, yes."

“Finally, I think that you know what I’m going to ask next.” Shirou breathed out with a resigned air. Piña immediately caught what he was saying, and pointed to a tent in the far back of camp.

‘Time to face the music.’

Leading Anatoly towards it and making a show of securing the Yaga’s binds, he discreetly whispered to the rebel, “I’ll just be a bit. I need to talk to some people privately.”

The Yaga only nodded. He won’t be disturbed by the others in the camp - judging by how they made a wide berth wherever they walked. As he entered the tent, the sound of sniffling caught his ears. Breathing once more, he stepped into view, seeing both Tuka and Lelei sitting at the foot of a cot.

Tuka was crying softly, wiping her eyes in a desperate attempt to stifle the tears, while Lelei kept her stoic expression as she patted the back of the elf.

Both girls looked up as Shirou entered the tent. Tuka’s tear-streaked face twisted into a mixture of relief and anger, while Lelei’s violet eyes remained unreadable, though her grip on Tuka’s shoulder tightened slightly.

Shirou exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck, "I’m back." He grimaced.

Sue him, he never said he was good at this.

Tuka shot to her feet, her ears twitching despite them still looking like a human’s, "You-You idiot!" Her voice cracked, wavering between fury and anguish, "You told them to leave, didn't you?!"

“I had to." Shirou said, keeping his voice even, "There were too many people that I risked hurting someone I didn't mean to. Including yourselves."

"That’s not the point!" Tuka’s fists clenched at her sides, "You left us! Alone! When you knew that we would've stuck by you!"

Lelei, still seated, tilted her head, "Unnecessary risk." Her tone was calm, but there was an edge to it, "If you had died, it would have complicated things."

Shirou winced. That was Lelei’s way of saying she’d been worried, too.

Then, Tuka sniffled again, her shoulders drooping as she finally lifted her head. Her red-rimmed eyes locked onto Shirou, and her voice was barely above a whisper.

"...Why?"

The single word carried more weight than any blade.

Shirou exhaled slowly, stepping further into the tent. He didn’t offer excuses - he wouldn’t insult them by pretending this was anything but what it was. A gamble. A deception.

"I needed to stop the fighting." He said, his voice low but firm, "Not just for the Empire, but for the rebels too. If this kept going, both sides would drown in blood. I have a plan, and it required me to talk to the rebels' leadership."

"And you didn't think to tell us?"

Tuka’s voice trembled, her hands balling into fists at her sides. The hurt in her eyes was raw, and Shirou felt a pang of guilt twist in his chest.

Lelei, ever observant, cut in before he could respond, "Didn't trust us." Her words were quiet, matter-of-fact, but they struck harder than any accusation.

Shirou stiffened. That wasn’t it, not entirely. But he couldn’t deny the kernel of truth in her words. He had acted alone, not because he doubted them, but because he feared dragging them into something even more dangerous.

"...It wasn’t about trust." He admitted, meeting their gazes, "I didn’t want either of you caught in the crossfire if things went wrong."

"Things did go wrong." Lelei countered, a glare forming on her normally expressionless face, "Ambushed by rebels."

Tuka’s ears twitched beneath her hair, her expression flickering between frustration and something softer, "That’s still not your choice to make!" She snapped, "We’re not-we’re not just some bystanders you can shove aside whenever you decide to play the hero!"

Shirou exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, "I know."

"Do you?" Lelei interjected, her teal eyes piercing, "Italica. Then now."

The bluntness of her statement left him momentarily speechless. She wasn’t wrong. He had done this before, charging ahead without explanation, leaving them to pick up the pieces.

And it wasn't even just to them, was it? Rin, Sakura, everyone else. Each and every time he played the hero, he made things worse. He never looked back. Never saw the ruins he caused, the rifts made in the background.

Tuka’s breath hitched, her anger wavering as she saw something flicker across Shirou’s face. Haunted shame. Of realization.

"...Sir Emiya?" She murmured, her voice softer now.

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he exhaled slowly, his shoulders sagging slightly under an invisible burden.

"...You’re right." He finally said, his voice quieter than before, "I keep doing this. Thinking I know what’s best. Thinking I can handle everything alone." His fingers flexed, then stilled, "But I was wrong."

Lelei’s glare softened slightly, though her gaze remained sharp. Tuka’s ears twitched again, her expression shifting from anger to wary concern.

Shirou looked up, meeting their eyes. "I do trust you. Both of you. More than anyone else here." His voice steadied. "But I’ve been... afraid."

"Afraid?" Tuka echoed, blinking.

"Afraid of failing you." He admitted. Taunting memories of those he had already failed whispered in his head, "Afraid that if I let you stand beside me, I’d drag you into something you couldn’t walk away from."

Lelei tilted her head, "Already are."

A wry, humorless smile tugged at Shirou’s lips, "Yeah. I’m starting to see that."

It was the same thing with Rin, wasn’t it? She was willing to walk beside him, for thick and thin, and what did he do? He did what he thought best, drove her away in order to protect her. Ironic, considering he had once promised himself that he wouldn’t become Archer, yet he did the exact same thing as he did.

What did that make him other than a hypocrite of the highest order?

Tuka bit her lip, her earlier fury dissipating into something more uncertain, "So...what now?"

"Now," Shirou said, straightening, "I ask for your help. Properly this time."

He wasn’t alone. He needed to understand that. He had been alone for long enough that the concept had become familiar to him. And it was hard to break out of that familiarity. For this though, he’d try. He’d try his damned hardest.

Lelei studied him for a long moment before giving a small nod, "Explain."