To Be Saved...

Chapter 3 - To Be Saved...

Things returned to a measure of normalcy after the exam rush. The overall pressure faded once the results were posted and the students returned to their routine and clubs activities restarted as before.

All except for Shirou, who level of stress only increased after Tohsaka declaration of war. So far she carried on like normal, barely acknowledging his existence and always with the utmost politeness. However the gleam in her eyes told a whole different story to the red haired Magus. There was no mistaking it. It was the look one gave to a long standing foe. An enemy to be crushed.

Thankfully, it appeared that she wanted to keep it completely within the boundaries of a healthy (?) school rivalry. Otherwise he would have been forced to take severe safety measure to ensure his continued survival. He wasn't sure how good she was as a Magus and he had no intention of finding out by being at the wrong end of her Thaumaturgy.

In a few days he managed to relax and return to his daily routine as well, which usually began… with a good beating.

"OOOFF!" Shirou exhaled as the fist connected with his stomach, making him double over. He didn't have time to ponder on the pain it brought as he had to roll away from his attacker. The finishing blow missed his temple by mere inches.

Hastily standing on his feet he resumed his guard just in time to face the onslaught of blows coming his way. Every punch was aimed to a vital point making not being hit an absolute priority. Shirou battle tempered body didn't need to be told what to do by the brain, as it reacted on instinct almost all by itself.

Still, his opponent's experience and ability were way beyond his. It was painfully clear that soon he would make a fatal mistake.

Striking back wasn't an option. It would have meant opening his guard even further bringing an end to the confrontation. There was no way he could win. The gap between their abilities was too big for him to achieve victory. Even if he used his Thaumaturgy there was no way he could win. It was just a matter of time now before he would end it.

Like predicted, not two minutes later Shirou did a minor slip up and opened his side to his foe. A gloved fist connected with his temple, sending him sprawling sideway and robbing him of his consciousness in the process. As darkness overtook him the last thing Shirou saw was the figure of his opponent kneeling over him. It was over.

He opened his eyes moments later and soon regretted it. His head throbbed painfully from the blow he had received and the ice bag on his forehead did little to damper the feeling. He was used to deal with pain after years of self applied Thaumaturgy, but his Sensei still knew how to hit.

"How are you feeling?" The dark haired man asked from beside him. His voice lacked any sort of concern like usual. Shirou looked at the man that sparred against him while wearing his everyday business suit complete with necktie. It was like fighting against Shirou didn't even make him sweat. Thinking about it, that was probably the case.

"Dizzy. But I'll manage," Shirou answered as he stood up again. He returned to the center of his dojo and bowed. "Thanks for the lesson, Kuzuki-Sensei."

The older man acknowledged him with a simple nod of his head. "You have improved, though you still have to learn how to control your emotions" he stated flatly. There was nothing in his voice but mere acknowledgement of his pupil skills. There was no appreciation for his achievements as there was never disappointment for his shortcomings.

"Thank you, Kuzuki-Sensei," Shirou replied politely. His teacher wasn't capable of appreciating but he certainly was.

"We should finish it here for today," the man pointed out. "I have to head to school early and your friend will be here shortly. Don't be late for class."

"I won't," Shirou agreed still bowing. He didn't intend to be late for class any way, but even less so when Kuzuki Soichirou told him not to be. The man exuded an icy aura that made anyone jump when he said to jump, no questions asked.

"Very well. I'll be going," he turned and left the dojo.

"Thank you for the lesson, Sensei."

He watched him leave. Even after all the time they knew each other, Shirou couldn't get used to him. At school it passed as the kind of behavior a proper teacher should have and was often addressed as an example from his colleagues.

Shirou knew better though. He knew that it wasn't a choice rather a reflection of his true nature.

Emptiness.

Kuzuki Soichiro was a hollow man. He realized it since the day he discovered who he actually was.

One Year Before

It had been raining for the past few days and it didn't seem it was about to stop. Children returned home as soon as school ended without looking back. Most streets were empty and void of life.

It was a scenario diametrically opposite to that blazing inferno but Shirou couldn't help but associate the emptiness around him to that time. He wasn't scared. Even if the Great Fire had scarred him physiologically it hadn't gave him any sort of phobia, rather it had bestowed on him a greater sensibility to read the atmosphere.

He wondered if the streets felt hollow because they were empty or if it was the other way around. Fuyuki city was an odd place. There were shifts in the atmosphere that made it seem like the town itself had a mood of its own.

As a result of his training with Structural Grasping, his sensibility was enhanced even further. It was like he never really turned it off but just let it sleep beneath the surface waiting to be shaken awake as soon as he flooded himself with Prana. It was, in a sense, like a second sight he didn't focus on until he needed it, but still there nonetheless-

Because of this, Shirou could feel those shifts as if they called out to him. A call he was eager to answer. While Kiritsugu was alive he restrained himself not to worry his father but after his death he really had no reason to hold back. That's why he was walking outside with only the protection of an umbrella despite the pouring rain.

There was a sense of… tension in the air like something was about to snap. He followed that figurative tense cable all the way to the point where the pressure was stronger. It took him nearly two hours to follow this trail thorough main roads and back alleys. The feeling grew stronger as the pressure in the air, as he chased it all the way to its source.

He wasn't that surprised when he found himself standing in the middle of the park that had been built on the ruins of the great fire. Was it the lingering despair of the victims that had called him out there?

It didn't make sense. He always felt the residual malice of that place and this… this was different. It was more intense. Alive.

His eyes scanned the outline of the trees searching for the source of this restlessness but there was no one around. No one he could see.

"Trace on," he muttered under his breath.

It was rough and not nearly as good as it could be if he was Grasping something in direct contact with him but it was still something to work with.

He had realized a few weeks prior that with his level of proficiency with Structural Grasping he could not only understand the composition of any object, but also its history or, as he called it, its Accumulated Experience. It was still a work in progress, but he hypothesized that if he managed to truly understand something he could eventually make long lasting Projected copies of an any item. He had never time to practice on it but he still managed to put a few theories on paper during his few downtimes.

As it stood, he could apply it to Grasp the turbulences in the atmosphere around him to locate their source as long as he was close enough. In addition he reinforced his eyes and ears in order to pick up every hint he could.

Rustling leave. Heavy breathing. Flesh hitting flesh. Blood. A heartbeat getting slower and slower. Death.

Shirou's eyes snapped open. He flooded his limbs with Prana and darted in the direction of the ongoing battle with speed beyond human limits.

As he got closer the sounds became more distinct. Carefully he hid himself behind a tree and watched the scene unfold.

Five men, dressed in identically inconspicuous grey business suits, were surrounding a sixth wounded man dressed in the same style but in black. They all wore identical triangular white masks that covered their faces from their eyebrows to their noses. It was small enough to be carried into a pocket and big enough to hide their faces beyond recognition.

Not that Shirou needed to see anything more than their eyes.

Cold, icy rocks. They betrayed no emotion whatsoever as they prowled around the wounded man. Shirou could tell no difference between them expect for the one in the middle.

He was dangerous. Extremely so. Everything in his posture advertised his strength. It was no wonder the other five were being so prudent around him.

It was also no wonder there were two other dead guys lying not too far away. The lone man comrades or his victims? From what he could Grasp of the man strength from where he was the latter seemed more probable. If he had even one capable ally the other five wouldn't stand a single chance. There was no doubt in Shirou's mind. The wounded man had spilled more blood, both his own as well as others', than his four assailant combined.

Wait… four?

It happened in a blur. One of them had closed the gap to this would-be-victim with blinding speed. And with the same speed his neck was snapped and his body flung in the air like a lifeless doll. It happened so fast that Shirou could have sworn the man was already dead when he started his attack.

His death was the last straw for his four living comrades who assaulted the black clad businessman at the same time with the perfect synchronicity of a well oiled machine.

And then… then something amazing happened.

The man dressed in black moved through each blow like a river's water around the rock in its path. It was truly as sight to behold. Only the fact that there were more blows coming from every direction and with different timing allowed his foes to land a few hit, but only on exchange of the lives of two of them.

With their numbers now even lower then before there was no way they could defeat him.

That is, if the few blows they just managed to score didn't pile up with his previous injuries.

He was about to strike again when his body shook once and blood sprouted from his impassible mouth, making him stagger for a single moment.

Like the trained assassin the undoubtedly were, his killers seized this occasion to finally bring him down for good.

Already regaining his composure the lone fighter moved to intercept them, and while he was able to deflect and injury the first, the second one took advantage of his still open guard to finally strike a lethal blow.

There was a strange sense of resignation in the black clad man's eyes and something that could pass as relief, as he waiting for that moment to arrive for a long, long time.

He watched through his adrenaline enhanced perceptions death reducing the distance.

Getting closer.

And closer.

And closer.

Until Shirou's Reinforced punch met forcefully with the executioner's ribcage, sending him flying away and hitting against a tree. The sound of shattered bones told him that he wouldn't get up anytime soon.

The last of the group, seriously wounded by the black dressed man, realized that there was now no way for him to complete his task. With the last of his strength he dashed at Shirou, ignoring the pain in his body, and hit the red haired boy with the most powerful punch he could muster right at his temple with a sickening cracking noise.

Broken bones. Blood.

Only the tiniest widening of his eyes betrayed the assassin's surprise, when he realized that it was his hand that had broke instead of his target's skull. He just had a fraction of second to ponder the impossibility of such a thing before Shirou's hook shattered his jaw. His body arched the air, completely weightless, only for it to land on the wet ground, unconscious.

Despite having intervened in help of the black dressed man Shirou jumped away from him, just in case. The two guys he took down were nothing compared to him, and while he came to his help because he was outnumbered and certainly going to be killed if Shirou had done nothing, there was no telling what he was going to do now. Not knowing what were the circumstances, safety was the better part of valor, Shirou concluded.

They stared at each other for a moment, evaluating their respective intentions. Finally, the man relaxed his arms, clearly stating his non-aggressiveness. Shirou too relaxed as he saw that.

"What's going on?" He asked. "Who are you guys and what – HEY!" The man toppled forward, his eyes closing as he did. Shirou barely had time to stretch out his arm and catch him before he hit the ground.

The man pulse and breathing were regular but it was clear he was exhausted. Sighing Shirou resigned himself not having answer for the time being. Well that wasn't completely true. As he wasn't about to leave the man he had just saved unconscious under the rain, he would have to carry him back to the Emiya estate. Doing that while he still wore his mask wasn't an option, as a teenager carrying an unconscious adult on his back under the rain looked already suspicious as it was.

He turned the man on his back and slowly peeled away the mask. And then froze.

"Kuzuki-Sensei?" he nearly shouted. Imagine his surprise when he found out that one of his school teacher was actually a trained assassin by the look of it. Even more questions piled up and he had to shake his head to clear his mind. There was no answer for him there.

Reinforcing his limbs once more he grabbed the unconscious form of Kuzuki Soichiro and began running back to his house through the streets still void of people.

Getting back took less time than going to the park as Shirou didn't need to follow any trail thus making the road shorter. Knowing what had originated the disturbance made him understand that the trail was actually the lingering killing intent the assassins emanated. They must have fought through the city for a long time to permeate the atmosphere as they did.

It was a useful ability for a hero wannabe to be able to track such things, but he was still green at it. Six, no seven trained killers generated a trail that he was able to follow but not to identify, and that while there was no one around to mud the tainted atmosphere with his presence. How much would he have to train to reach a sensibility sharp enough to follow a trail in not so favorable circumstances? Probably years.

He sighed as he pondered just how far his goal was. Well, no use in sulk over that.

He brought Kuzuki in an empty room and proceeded to remove his wet clothes. He was in the middle of removing his shirt when the teacher's eyes snapped open and focused on Shirou like piercing daggers.

Awkward silence….

"Emiya-san," Kuzuki said making Shirou jump away.

"Ah. Sensei. How are you feeling?"

"My injuries are minor. There's no permanent damage," he answered after a moment of consideration.

"Well that's good," Shirou commented.

… More awkward silence….

"Sensei…, " Shirou began. "What happened? Who were those men? Who… are you really?"

Kuzuki's eyes returned to Shirou and stared.

….

…. ….

Too much awkward silence….

"They were murderers. As I am."

Simple and to the point. No embellishments and no excuses either. Shirou reaction was to raise both his eyebrows at the bluntness of the answer. That didn't tell him anything he hadn't figured out by himself already, though the honesty was certainly appreciated.

"I figured as much. Care to expand on that?"

And strangely Kuzuki did after surveying Shirou's intentions through his eyes. He explained how he had been trained since birth to become a perfect killing machine. Lethal, precise and absolutely inconspicuous. His job as a teacher nothing more than a way to give Kuzuki Soichiro a place to be when he wasn't masterfully spilling blood.

He told him how he was raised, trained and unleashed. He told him how he took lives without distinguish between social standing, gender or age.

Shirou should have been disgusted.

Shirou was disgusted.

The man was the incarnation of all he stood against. The very antithesis to his existence.

He should have hated him, despised him.

But he didn't.

Through his entire story Kuzuki Soichiro didn't betray a single emotion. Neither regret nor enjoyment for what he had done. He was the empty shell of man. The very first victim of that accursed existence.

"Then…" Shirou began after taking a deep breath to steady his voice. "Why were they trying to kill you?"

Silence again. For the first time an emotion showed on the man's face. Confusion.

Why had he gone against his comrades? What possessed him to refuse the orders? He didn't know. No, even if he couldn't properly feel his own emotions he logically knew the answer.

"Because I…. didn't want to be a tool anymore."

Again there was no emotion in his voice. He didn't even say that he didn't want to kill anymore. It wasn't regret that pushed him to turn against his allies. It was rebellion. It the hollow shell that was Kuzuki Soichiro, for some unknown reason a spark still burned. Something that made him less of a weapon and more of a man.

'Could it be enough to save him?' Shirou wondered.

While he had no problem with the concept of killing those who were Evil in order to save those who were Innocent if the situation at hand required it, he had no liking for killing nor did he envision it as a method of punishment for those who committed a crime.

He couldn't really blame his teacher for what he was either, which brought him to question the current situation. Could the tiny spark of humanity inside Kuzuki Soichiro be enough to save him?

"Teach me," Shirou said after a moment. "Teach me how to fight like you do."

"Why?" The black haired man asked back. The word sounded weird coming from his mouth as he had never used it before, never questioned the reasons behind any action.

"Because I want to help people. Because you are strong. And I need to become stronger to save more people."

The assassin looked at Shirou for a long moment before answering. "The snake is made to kill people, not save them. Furthermore somebody with a Heart like you isn't suited for it."

Seated on his heels with his back upright Shirou stared right back. A thin smile formed on his lips. 'Not suited, uh? Where did I hear that before?' He wondered with irony.

"There are plenty of things I've been told I'm not suited for," he told him. "I don't care. So long as you teach me I will turn your killing technique in a technique to save people."

Propped on his elbows Kuzuki stared at him once more. For someone so void of emotion it seemed he could read others' pretty well.

"Very well. On a condition"

"What?"

"Tell me, what are you?" he asked him bluntly.

"Ah? What do you mean?" Shirou asked with an edge in his voice. Kuzuki certainly wasn't a Magus so there was no way he could have perceived his Thaumaturgy.

"There are such things as human limits Emiya-san. Your speed, strength and resistance far exceed that of a normal human."

"What? No way, you are way faster and stronger than I am," he protested.

"No. My skills are more simply more polished, with no useless movement. As such they look faster and stronger, but your uncoordinated style of fighting is nothing like that. What are you Emiya Shirou?"

"Equivalent exchange?" Shirou half asked, half pondered to himself. Not for a single moment he considered the fact that he saved the man's life something he already owed him for. He just wasn't wired like that. "Fair enough. A secret for a secret. I am what it's called a Magus…."

It was Shirou turn to tell his story this time. He skipped over the details of his upbringing but still told him enough to make him understand the motives behind his actions as well as the reasons for his abilities. As expected Kuzuki betrayed no emotions whatsoever and simply accepted Shirou's explanation as the truth. He was capable to understand if someone lied to him, especially if the topic was so unbelievable. The complete lack of deceit in Shirou's body language, paired with what he had witnessed, combined with the fact that he had saved his life was enough to make him believe what he was hearing.

"I see," was the simple statement once the tale was finished.

Shirou took the man reaction positively. While it was expressly prohibited on the pain of death to divulge the existence of Thaumaturgy, Shirou didn't care for various reasons. For one, there were certainly plenty of non Magus people that knew of Magic. While the Clock Tower did an impressive job of hiding the truth either by wiping the memories or outright killing eventual witness, most Magus had a few relatives that did not meddle with Magic and lived normal lives while being aware of its existence. Second, there were plenty of nuts out there. Someone sputtering nonsense about magic wasn't going to catch anybody attention, especially not the Association's so long as he didn't start casting spell of giving tangible proofs. Thirdly, Shirou highly doubted his Sensei would tell anyone seeing as his own background was quite abnormal.

It was a risk but a very small one everything considered. A sacrifice necessary to ignite a spark of trust between them. It was Shirou's first step to save someone in a way beyond rescuing them from immediate harm. An endeavor far more difficult to accomplish but something he needed to do anyway.

"One last thing. Do I have to expect more of your former colleagues to come after you?" Shirou asked.

"Unlikely. On principle they would never let a traitor get away, but I have already killed fifteen of their most trained assassins. At this point they will cut their losses and move on. Not even their most skilled tool going out of control is worth such loss of manpower. We should be safe for the foreseeable future."

Shirou nodded. It was a relief not having to watch their back form trained assassins. "So, we have a deal?" He asked to the man lost in his thoughts.

"I believe we do," was the emotionless reply as Kuzuki grabbed Shirou outstretched arm to seal the deal.

It was the first act of one of the weirdest Teacher-Pupil relationship Shirou would ever see in his entire life.

Present time

He watched his teacher as he left the house. After a whole year there had been no change in him that Shirou could tell. Well, having quit his life as an assassin was already a very good start but that wasn't Shirou's doing rather the man's own choice. That had to be expected though. Reversing a lifetime of indoctrination couldn't be an easy job to begin with.

For the time being he could at the very least turn Kuzuki's technique against its original purpose by using it to help other instead of doing them harm. In a certain sense it was already a way for Shirou's teacher to atone for his sins.

Coming to the subject of his proficiency with the Snake, Shirou was rather satisfied with himself. As Kuzuki predicted, his predisposition to save people made it harder for him to learn how to handle the technique properly. It took him a year of constant practice to obtain enough skills to apply it to disable instead of killing. The night when he helped his schoolmates was the first time he used it on somebody that wasn't his Sensei, and it was one of the reasons for him to show himself instead of hitting from the safety of the shadows.

One year of efforts and tremendous pain. Kuzuki wasn't one to go lightly. Not that Shirou wanted him to do so in the first place. Being a Magus had taught him that nothing could be gained without sacrificing something in return.

Even Magic wasn't such a convenient thing in fact. There was always a deal, an exchange to be made. One couldn't expect anything more than what he was disposed to give in the first place. To obtain more than what was given went against the rules of the World. It was akin to break the laws of thermodynamic or, in Thaumaturgy terms, creating a Sorcery, a miracle.

Magecraft, in fact, couldn't do anything that "Science" couldn't potentially do once the right knowledge was obtained. It was merely another way to manipulate natural resources and energies, both from within (Od) and outside (Mana) of the Magus, to obtain a certain effect. For all means and purpose it was a very convenient branch of "Science" that was restricted to a very limited number of people. Such convenience however, was limited to the Magus' talent and more than anything else his willingness to risk his life for his purposes. A simple, yet frightening concept, that made the existence of a practitioner of Thaumaturgy closer to the World's inner working in exchange for the closeness to Death.

Shirou's lack of talent was certainly compensated by his complete disregard for his own life. By putting his life on the line entirely he managed to achieve unheard results in the fields of Thaumaturgy he could apply himself to.

Clenching his fist (while using the other to support the ice bag) Shirou smiled. One step at a time his dream was getting closer. He didn't delude himself. He knew that the more he improved the harder it would become, but for the time being he could relish in the feeling of accomplishment that was coursing though him.

"Emiya-Senpai?" Sakura's voice called for him from the entrance snapping him from his line of thought.

"Ah. I'm in the dojo. I'll be there shortly, Sakura." He run to the bathroom before she could catch a glimpse of his bruised face. Despite their long time friendship Shirou never revealed her his nature as a Magus, nor he spoke about his nighttime activities and related trainings. If she saw his face in that moment she would have asked questions he didn't want to answer.

Closing the bathroom's door behind him he undressed and began washing himself like every morning after his workout. While he was in the water he focused a little Prana in the offended area to accelerate the healing.

Having the Scabbard inside him granted him a minor healing factor that accelerated further when he let his own power course through his body. Small cut and bruises never lasted more than a few hours and deeper wounds healed in a matter of days.

Imagine his surprise when, as a nine years old practicing his grasping, he found a foreign object embedded inside his body. Of course, when it happened he immediately run to his father, who wasn't surprised at all by his discovery.

It was the day when Shirou learned about the Holy Grail war. About Seven Master and Seven Servants. About a war for a relic capable of fulfilling a single wish. About a corrupted power that burned the city, killing over five hundred people in the processes. It was the day when he discovered that his father was going to die due to a curse placed on him. It was the first time Shirou cried openly for something he couldn't do anything about.

Six Years Before

"There must be something we can do!" Nine years old Shirou cried.

"No, there isn't," Kiritsugu answered with a calm face. He had made his peace with death for a long time. "The curse of the Grail can be undone only by the Grail itself or a power of the same magnitude."

"It can't be. It can't be. There must be a way to save you," the red haired protested through his tears.

"Save… me?" The man asked dumbfounded before smiling at the crying child. "Shirou, you don't understand. I have already been saved."

"But… you are going to die."

"That is true. But death is not something we can avoid. It is part of our lives from the moment we are born," he breathed and let the concept sink in Shirou young mind. "Salvation has nothing to do with avoiding death. To be saved… it's something far more complex. It's true that people generally don't want to die, and that to rescue them from immediate death is usually equal to saving them. But that's not an absolute truth. There are people that can find salvation only through death."

"I… I don't understand. How can death save anyone? When you die everything is over, right? There's nothing you can do after you're dead. So… So if you live another day there's still something you can do."

"That is… over simplification, Shirou. Death isn't… the scariest thing in the world. Tell me, when you where surrounded by the fire. When you knew you didn't have any hope of survival what is that scared you the most? Knowing that you were about to die of the pain and hopelessness that you felt in that moment?"

"I… wanted to live" Shirou answered. " I desperately wanted to live but…. I wanted it to be over. I wanted the pain to go away. The burning and the chocking and…"

"Yes. In that very moment what scared you the most was life itself. Death can be a much more merciful mistress compared to Life."

"But… but you saved me. You saved and I'm happy to be alive now."

"Yes. Because I took you away from the things that were hurting you, scaring you but…. Sometime the things we fear the most are inside of us. Part of us. So ingrained into our own lives that we can't exist without them, but we don't want to live with them either."

"Are you?" Shirou asked. "Are you scared of your life up to the point that you want to die? Is Death your Salvation?"

"No," came Kiritsugu certain reply. "You are my Salvation, Shirou."

"M... Me?"

"I... have done many terrible things that I came to regret. I took countless lives for the sake of saving even more lives. Because Death is not such a scary thing, but… I was conceited. I didn't realize that for nearly every life I took somebody was suffering for the loss. For every life I saved I condemned somebody to live with in pain and sorrow. I've killed and killed and killed. And the only thing I had on my hands was blood. In the end the people I've saved are those I've killed, instead of those I've spared. I've brought no happiness into the world. No joy. I've only destroyed. My actions haven't brought a single smile."

"Dad…." Shirou began but Kiritsugu continued.

"Until we met I've only brought death, because I knew that it wasn't the worst possible evil, but… It was an evil nonetheless. But then… then I saved you and that saved me in return. The first person I've saved not by killing somebody else, even if I was involved in the cause of the disaster." He paused for a moment for breath. "Still the weight of the things I did is crushing me, haunting my dreams, wearing me down day after day. I can't undo the past. The lives I've taken cannot be restored. You saved me, Shirou, from being nothing but a murderer, but only death will free me from the burden I've put on my shoulders in the name of my misguided conceptions." At this point he took another moment to organize his thoughts.

"Never forget this. Salvation is something far more complex than a simple choice between life and death. Each is both potentially good and wrong at the same time. In my case, death is the best thing I can hope for. In a sense, the Grail's curse only shortened the time of my suffering, though that also means I have less time to spend with you."

"Then… what should I do? How can I know when saving someone means to let them die?"

"You can't until you have to make that decision, but so long as you strive to save them, truly save them… you'll find your answer. I'm sure of that."

Present Time

Shirou pushed the painful memories away. No use in indulging on something that was already in the past. Sulking over what he had lost wouldn't bring anything but sadness. He would never forget his father or what he had taught him but that was no reason to remain trapped in the past. He would look forward. He would look to all the people he could and would save. That was all that mattered.

He stood out of the water and dried himself, got got dresses and left the bathroom. By the time he had finished the bruise on his face was already gone. Yes, the wounds of the flesh were much easier to heal than the wounds of the soul, and far, far less painful.

"Ohayo Senpai," Sakura greeted as he joined her in the kitchen.

"Good morning to you too Sakura. How are you doing today?"

"I'm fine thank you. Breakfast will be ready shortly."

"Thank you. You shouldn't really have bothered you know? Or at the very least you could have let me help."

"I don't mind, Senpai. I like cooking," for you she wanted to add. "Besides if you really want to help you can set the table."

"That's hardly any helping, but seeing that you've effectively evicted me from the kitchen I'll settle for that."

The calm and tranquility of the following few minutes was suddenly broken by the sound of the incoming beast. Drawn like a predator to its designated target it paced through the corridors with heavy footsteps, shaking the ground beneath her.

"Here she comes," said the red haired boy without even bothering to turn. The door was suddenly jerked open and the famishing beast made its entrance.

"Ohayo, Shirou~!" One Fujimura Taiga sing-sang with a hand raised in greeting. "Where's breakfast?"

"And a good morning to you as well, Fuji-nee. Breakfast will be ready shortly so make yourself at home."

Fifteen minutes later the trio was comfortably seated around the table having finished eating the food Sakura prepared.

"Hmmm~," Taiga moaned appreciatively. "Sakura-chan you are getting better and better at cooking."

"Thank you Fujimura-sensei, but it's all Senpai's merit if I've improved so much," she replied.

"Hardly," Shirou replied. "I might have taught you a couple of things but your stile is entirely different from mine. Don't sell yourself short, this is all your doing."

"Thank you Emiya-senpai," she answered with a light blush. Something that flew right over Shirou's head but didn't escape Taiga. The woman was oblivious toward a lot of things, a trait she shared with Shirou, but she wasn't the most loved teacher of her school for nothing. Her ability to understand her students' feelings were second to none.

The feral smirk that formed on her face would have scared the impassible Kuzuki into hiding.

"Shirou's right, Sakura-chan. With skills like this you will make a man very happy one day. Ne, Shirou? Don't you think Sakura would make for a wonderful wife?"

To her credit not even Taiga realized just how oblivious Shirou was to certain things. She had hoped to see him squirm, trying to find an answer that wasn't compromising for him and at the same time considerate of Sakura's obvious feelings for him.

Shirou, however, holder of many titles like "Fake Janitor" and "In Charge of Maintenance" was also known, mostly by Sakura's brother Shinji, as "Idiot". Therefore, if present, the older Matou wouldn't have been surprised by Shirou blunt and honest answer.

"Ah. Sakura would make a great wife," he agreed thoughtlessly. Reactions varied.

Taiga's face, which was lazily resting on her palm supported by her elbow, lost balance and slammed on the table with a loud thunk!

Sakura's blushed so rapidly and violently that her head recoiled back as if physically struck.

Shirou punctually missed the younger girl's reaction as he turned his head to his right when Taiga's face ungracefully hit the table.

"Fuji-nee! What are you doing? Are you hurt?" He asked full of concern.

"Ah, no. I'm fine, I'm fine," she answered pulling herself back up. The wavering smile on her face was a mixture of pain from the blow and disconcert at her charge's stupidity.

"You are not fine," he protested. "Your nose is bleeding."

"Ah. I'll get a tissue," Sakura squealed as she bolted from the table, grateful for the occasion to disappear from sight until she managed to regain control of her blood flow. She returned a minute later with her normal skin color back in place. Still, she made a point to avoid meeting Shirou's eyes. "Senpai, I should go now. I have to meet with my brother before going to school. You don't mind if we don't go together today, do you?"

"Not at all Sakura. Thank you for your help."

"I'll see you later then, Emiya-senpai, Fujimura-sensei," she bowed hastily at the duo. Taiga could only wave her hand as she was busy wiping her face from the blood.

When she left Shirou turned back to Taiga. "Fuji-nee, didn't you get the feeling that Sakura was… distressed?"

The teacher finished to clean her face and put the tissue in her pocket before placing both hands on Shirou's shoulders. She looked at him with the most serious expression she could muster so that her message could reach him.

"Shirou you are… really an idiot," she said with a voice full of compassion.

Shirou requests of an explanation fell on deaf ears as the girl returned to consume her meal pointedly ignoring the boy.

No matter how much he tried he couldn't get an answer out of his self appointed sister.