Chapter 4.a Fate: False Farce (FSN SI)

Fucking Kotomine.

Fucking, goddamnit Kotomine.

I cannot believe that I had to fucking talk to Kotomine Kirei.

The Fourth Holy Grail War was seven flavors of fucked up, but fucking god damned Kotomine Kirei took that screwed up shit show and folded it into a tragedy. I could not give him a hint that I knew of his past, of his relationship to Kiritsugu. I don’t know why, I do not have the words to articulate the why, but I knew that if Kotomoine Kirei thought I could help answer his… whatever the fuck question that he had, he’d do anything to make me answer it.

And seeing as his last attempt to understand the question resulted in the Fuyuki Fire?

…Yeah. No pressure at all, eh!?

I am, as a rule, not a good liar. I don’t like lying. I don’t like hiding. I like to keep things straightforward, and the greatest way I keep secrets was to keep quiet. It was the only way I had kept my knowledge a secret from my old man way back then.

I don’t think that tactic was going to work with Kotomine Kirei. Worst-case scenario, he might legit just pick a fight with me. Best-case scenario, he starts stalking me because I’m an Emiya. EIther way, shit was fucked.

Which is why I was stocking up on crap as I changed my clothes in my room. I was feeling pretty calm about changing from a reactive piece to a more active piece in this stupid war, so I guess there was merit to scheduling my panic attack earlier. Here’s to hoping that would hold out long enough.

School uniform was completely fucked, but I could probably repurpose the cloth for rags or something. There was always a need for rags around the house and the forge. Changing into my usual blue-white long-sleeved t-shirt, I forewent the usual jeans in exchange for cargo pants.

Pockets for days on these bitches. Calico M950 holstered behind my back for easy access alongside a combat knife for easy dual-wielding, additional magazine drums on both sides of my pants for symmetrical access, and various explosives of different flavors crammed in the rest, I was a percent of the way to approaching the lethality of my old man.

What came next was uniquely Shiho though. Loosening my wrap just a bit, I took a breath and stretched a bit, luxuriating in the freedom that my breasts now had.

I then used the female’s natural hiding spot to stash various medical materials. Small ones such as bandages, elastic bandages, disinfectant wipes, slightly illegal stimulants and numbing agents in pills or ointments, and the usual things one needed to field-dress a wound. Nothing sharp because I didn’t want one bad hit to have my own med-kit stab my chest, but enough so that I could probably survive.

If every iteration of Kiritsugu and Shirou was focused on minimizing casualties with overwhelming force, then I, Shiho, would focus on preserving what was left.

…Or something. I don’t know. I just think having the option of mercy is great.

Tightening my wraps to keep everything sealed again, I slipped on a jacket because it was cold tonight and also because it’d give me extra pockets to keep snacks and rations. I didn’t expect to have to survive, but if something happened, I’d be ready.

Ready for sudden combat, ready for a mid-sized campaign, ready for everything but this stupid war, I left my room and joined Saber and Rin to meet the Priest up the Hill.

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The moonlit river

Of Fuyuki’s soft night was

such a lovely sight.

Heh, I’m a better poet than Lancer; take that, you hack. Seriously though, I loved wandering around Fuyuki at night. Dangerous, for sure, especially with leftovers of the Fourth Grail War stalking, but…

I remember dragging the old man out to walk with me one night during one of the few short periods he was in Fuyuki. He was… always a busy man. He was a good father, don’t get me wrong, just… distant. When he wasn’t trying to rescue Illya, he was preparing to rescue Illya. The few times he had free, he was always with Jiisan, preparing a life for me and Ilya when he was gone.

The times where I nagged him into training me were the few times that was just our time. When he started to finally just stay home when the Grail’s curse got too much, he was too tired to do much more than just endure the pain. So that night where he was still healthy enough to wander and had free was a special memory for me.

That night was… I couldn’t remember what we did, what we talked about, but… I  remember being content with just having him for myself. No training, no pressure to get better, just my father and myself, sitting on a bench and watching the city lights dance over the river.

After that very late dinner, the three of us had departed, walking to the Church.

Saber was dressed in a cute yellow poncho to hide her armor. I had forgotten that she was an anomaly and htus couldn’t dematerialize like a normal Servant. It would make certain scenarios trickier, but workable. She clearly had questions but also didn’t want to ask them because of Rin’s presence. I was not looking forward to answering them.

Rin was still keeping up her good student facade. It was good to see that she still enjoyed my meals, but I was sad that I was going to have to stop cooking her lunch. Mostly because we were… probably enemies now. I didn’t want to be, but that wasn’t a decision that I could make. To be honest, I didn’t even remember what her original goal was for this war, but she had backed off on Saber far too easily for me to fully trust her. …I wanted to trust her, I really did but I wasn’t Shirou. I didn’t have the weird Harem Protaganist Skill that made her into an ally. As it was, Rin had tried making smalltalk, but I pulled from my father’s conversational toolkit and simply grunted and gave short answers.

That was nothing like a harem protaganist. I was already failing the Emiya name by not being able to seduce woman. To be fair, I myself was a woman, so… yeah.

All in all, nights like these were dangerous for a trio of gals to be out roaming, but then again, we weren’t your average trio. A not-so-average mage, a knight king, and a faker thrice over, well… we weren’t the most dangerous things of the night, but we were certainly up there. I just hoped it was enough to handle Berserker. I very distinctly remember Berserker being a huge problem tonight.

Archer was elsewhere which was definitely a bonus. Not just because that was where the ranged sniper should be, but also because I did not need existential dread topped onto the stress of tonight.

Completely honest, I was also dreading meeting Archer. I was dreading many things tonight. If Archer remained a man, that probably meant that I was not Shirou Emiya. Probably being the keyword. If Archer had changed, then that meant that the story had changed far too much, and things were fucked.

Predetermination was a bitch, but comforting with its predictability. If things were altered? Well, free will exists with all the horrifyign uncertainty that implies. Either way, it was a non-problem to be ignored until it became a problem.

As we stopped at the gate of the church, I thumbed the grip of the Calico, borrowing a bit of strength from my father.

Breathe in. Breathe out. My body is steel. Infuse and temper with each breath.

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AN: How about I do this from now on? I'll give all patrons status updates on my WIPs.

I'm still working out all the kinks, but how about... Higher patrons get these status updates three days to a week before the lower patrons?

Does that sound good?

I'll be honest, college has been hard getting back into the swing of things, but I am not dead!