Chapter 1
It had been three months since Shirou and Rin left for their new life in London. Shirou’s new life felt-almost surreal, even after the insanity that was the Holy Grail War, and then a new relationship with his crush, it was almost too much for him to process. He could only think back on this new chapter on his life in a daze.
He looked down at his hand, and imagined a sword. “Trace, on.”
With those two magic words, the outline of a sword momentarially formed in his hand, before his image solidified into reality, and he clamped his hand on the familiar curved black hilt and smiled.
He’d made a lot of breakthroughs in his magecraft, too. He ran his finger upon the now-familiar blade, amazed that he could-create it was wrong, but in a sense, it accurately described what he was doing.
It all felt very surreal.
“Rap rap rap.” He heard a fist banging against his thick wooden door. “Shirou? Are you ready? We have to go soon, you know. You better not have been goofing off in your room!”
He smiled and shook his head as he heard the voice of his girlfriend. Or well, as she’d like everyone to believe, his master. He was merely the apprentice, he’d need to study hard, yada yada yada.
“Bang bang bang!” This time, the knocking sounded more insistent. “Shirou!” An insistent voice nagged him again from behind the door.
“Yes, I’ll be right out!” He put his sword to the side. It’d dissipate soon enough, back into the ether. He turned, and headed off back into his newfound reality.
Three long, agonizing months. Three months of listless existence. These past three months of sheer nothing.
Sakura Matou rolled over on her bed, splaying out her arms. Her lifeless eyes gazed up upon the blank ceiling. She wasn’t looking at anything in particular. Her eyes wandered over to the slight indentation in the ceiling right above her bed. She remembered when that had happened. Shinji had burst into her room and started throwing things at her in a blind rage. A trophy had missed and slammed up against the ceiling. After which he’d pinned her down and violated her.
“Ahhh... That really hurt, didn’t it...” The way she was speaking, it sounded as if she were watching a dreadfully dull movie, not reliving a traumatic memory from her past.
Shinji didn’t come into her room anymore.
She didn’t know exactly what had happened, but she knew that the Golden Archer had to have had something to do with it. One night, after being missing for several days, he’d come home in a mess looking completely envenerated. He was changed. She’d instinctively flinched and resigned herself to be the outlet for his anger yet again.
Instead, he looked at her fearfully, and then his face had twisted into something she’d never seen from him before. She’d never seen that emotion from anybody. She didn’t what was going on in his head, but, miraculously, he simply turned away wordlessly, and walked quietly up to his own room.
From that day on, it felt like he was trying to be---nice? Was that the right word, she wondered idly. Not antagonistic. He mostly left her alone, which suited her fine.
“Sigh...” She let out a long winded, bored sigh, turning over to face the wall and gazed at another dent.
It should have been the time of her life. Things had finally turned up for Sakura Matou. Her abhorrent, terrifying, immortal grandfather had been killed. Her brother treated her in an almost human manner, and seemed to be genuinely making an effort.
She was free. She should have been out making friends, socializing, living.
She turned over once more, burying her face in her pillow as she began to cry. Big tears welled up, irritating her salt-riddled skin. None of that mattered. None of that mattered without him. What was the point of being set free, when the only thing worth living for had to be taken away in order to facilitate that freedom? She wondered if God had a sick sense of irony. She wondered what she’d done in a past life in order to deserve such a cruel and unusual punishment.
“Why...” She muttered as she cried herself to sleep, the same as every night these days.
When Sakura finally awoke, she found herself quivering in a cold sweat and groaned. She covered her eyes as she was temporarily blinded by the sun’s warm rays streaming in through the window. She sighed and sat up, pulling the covers up with her. She leaned against the wall and wiped her forehead with a clammy hand.
“The same dream...” She muttered to herself. She suddenly felt a trickle of liquid running down her chin.
“Oh.” A faint and aching pain throbbed on her lower lip. She silently wiped it off with her blanket before she returned her attention to reminiscing about her dream. It was the same every night. It started in the oh-so-familiar pit in the basement. It was cold, dark, damn, and the worms crawled inside her, tunneled through her veins and nerves, bit at her insides if she ever dared to cry out or squirm from the indescribable agony of having her body serve as a nesting ground.
That part wasn’t so bad. As much as it hurt and felt real, it was familiar, at least. She’d learned how to deal with that pain in her childhood. She could accept it, let it wash over her like a stone sitting at the bottom of a river. It would mold her, shape her, but it would never be able to move her. She’d persisted, never truly living but merely persisting.
She’d thought she’d be able to do it forever, but then she’d met somebody. She’d always secretly dreamed about him suddenly bursting in and pulling her out of that hellhole. He’d always walked in, and the worms parted, before he leaned down and kissed her.
Those experiences she had with him had made life worth living. It was the only time she felt truly alive; it was the only time she felt as if she really were a human.
But now, right before he came for her, a raven-haired witch suddenly took his hand and they both disappeared with everything. She was left with nothing. Not even the pain accompanied her anymore. She had a deep sense of loneliness, and nothing else.
“So, are you just going to sit there the entire day?” She heard a deep, masculine voice ask her with just a little sarcasm. The girl covered herself and looked around in fright. She didn’t see anybody in the room, and it certainly did not sound anything like Shinji’s voice! In fact, it almost sounded like...
She shook her head vigorously. No, this isn’t good... Now I’m hearing things? She smacked her cheeks for good measure and stood up. She peeked under the bed, and checked the closet before she let out a relieved sigh, collapsing against the wall. “Great... I’m just going crazy...” The purple-haired girl muttered to herself.
Then, her eyes widened as she sucked in her breath.
A tanned man with white hair suddenly materialized, sitting in the lone piece of loose furniture in her room, a cheap folding chair. “An interesting theory, but I’m afraid that’s not the case.”
“A-a-a-a servant... But...why?” The girl shrunk back against the wall in abject terror. If she could, she’d have merged into it and disappeared. She was shaking visibly as she stammered out her words. Why was...
“Why is Tohsaka’s servant here? Are you here to tie up your master’s loose ends? Does my- does she hate me that much?” She’d been ready to keep going, but stopped when he put his hand up to silence her.
“I have no business with my former master anymore; we cut ties for good.” These words sent Sakura’s mind into chaos. If he wasn’t-why? Had her sister had a falling out with him, and he’d forcibly ended the contract? Was that even possible? She had absolutely no idea, but-
The next words, however, cleared her mind of all thoughts. “I’m here to kidnap you, Matou. I have need of you so I’m taking you away from here.”
After that, he suddenly disappeared, and Sakura’s world faded to black.
