From the ashes

 Fire...

This word could describe the world he found himself in. Perhaps it wasn't true in the literal sense, but with every step taken in this hell, it felt as though his entire life was being relentlessly consumed by the raging flames.

Somewhere in the distance, on the edge of his consciousness, he could still hear the cries and moans of the dying. He heard the crackling of flames, the crashing of collapsing walls, the shattering of windows, which left the scorched earth littered with shards of glass; yet... he didn't truly hear them...

He had simply withdrawn into himself, hearing and seeing nothing around him. He was just moving forward, step by step... Neither the screams, nor the desolation surrounding him, nor even his own wounds and burns, which were slowly hindering his progress, mattered.

At some point, his strength finally abandoned him. He just collapsed onto the hot ground, staring blankly at the orange-black sky...

He didn't know how many hours he lay there like that... The colors shifted, becoming duller and grayer, until he realized the sky was overcast with leaden clouds...

Drip...

A solitary drop fell onto his face. Then another... And another... And another... For the first time all night, he felt a hint of coolness...

He wanted to rise, but he literally couldn't feel his body. All he could do was weakly move his eyes, their vision gradually blurring until darkness simply enveloped him...

After a while, he tried to open his eyes again. But all he could see was a strange, blurred shape resembling a man. Shiro began to feel as though someone was literally digging him out from under a pile of rubble. Then he was carefully lifted, and for the first time, he heard something other than screams.

— He's alive... — someone exclaimed in disbelief, before their voice erupted into a joyful shout, — He's alive!

His vision cleared slightly, and Shiro could see a happy smile on the man's face. He wanted to understand why this person was smiling so blissfully, but his consciousness began to slip away again, sinking into emptiness...

 ***

A couple of hours later.

 Fuyuki Central Hospital.

Emiya Kiritsugu sat in one of the hospital corridors, his head bowed and his gaze vacant.

In the past twenty-four hours, he had experienced more nightmares than in his entire life... The death of his partner, Maiya... The demise of Irisviel... The battle with Kirei Kotomine... The visions that the Grail had shown him... The terrible truth that had been revealed to him... And then...

He saw Hell again...

All of it awakened the worst memories... Memories he had sincerely tried to bury deep within his mind. But the memories continually returned him to the events of that fateful night...

Back then, still a teenager, he had seen something like this for the first time... He had witnessed people turning into grotesque creatures, devouring themselves amidst burning buildings...

That was the day his new path began. It started with a vow to himself that such catastrophes would never repeat. And no matter how many people he had to kill or how much blood would stain his hands... But...

No matter how hard he tried, no matter what sacrifices he made or was willing to make, the world did not change. His ideal of a Hero of Justice had transformed him into a Mage Killer. His own dream had become an unbearable burden that broke him and led him here...

A dream turned into a nightmare; a miracle became a curse...

And now, he just sat there. Just sat and thought only of that boy he had pulled from the rubble... The only one... The only survivor among all those who had also fallen victim on his path to his dream. The moment he saw him, heard his breathing, and felt the beating of his heart...

He had never smiled like that at any other moment... He had never cried like that at any other moment...

But now... He just sat there, restless. Why was he here? Did he even have the right to be here? How would he look the child in the eye when he had taken everything from him?

He understood that only his own egoism guided him now, but he simply couldn't just take it easy and forget about him, considering his duty fulfilled. However... He didn't really think he could do anything to atone for his guilt...

— Excuse me, you brought that boy, didn't you? — an uncertain female voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

— Yes... Yes... How is he? — Kiritsugu asked, detached.

— His condition has stabilized, and it seems that nothing threatens his life... — she replied, — To be honest, he is the only one who got off so lightly during all this time... I hope he's not the last.

Kiritsugu didn't respond, he simply let out a sigh of relief.

— Are you his father? — she posed a logical yet unexpected question.

Upon hearing this, Kiritsugu flinched. It was a simple question, but he felt his heart race. Emiya simply didn't know how to answer her.

—...Yes, — he managed to say after a prolonged pause.

— I understand that you're worried, — she said, placing her hand on his shoulder and smiling encouragingly, — But right now, it's best for you to go home and try to rest. Nothing threatens your son, and he will be in the care of doctors, you can rest assured.

— Thank you, thank you very much...

- Your son... Your son... Your son... — these words echoed in Kiritsugu's mind for a long time as he walked away...

 ***

Two days later.

The hospital.

— ...thus, not counting the first-degree burns, a couple of fractures in the bones, and of course, just a sea of bruises, abrasions, and contusions, he is in perfect condition... — the doctor concluded his explanation, walking down the corridor alongside Kiritsugu, — Frankly speaking, this boy is the luckiest one I've ever known or seen. If you can even say that about him...

Kiritsugu said nothing in response. He knew all too well why the boy got off so "lightly."

Avalon... The divine construct and Noble Phantasm of EX rank. The sheath of the legendary Excalibur, which restores even the most terrible injuries to body and soul. And these are not just empty words; Kiritsugu had felt its power himself. It was precisely this that had prevented him and the boy from sharing the fate of those who remained in that fire forever...

— However, even in this barrel of honey, there is a spoonful of tar, — added the doctor.

— What do you mean? — Kiritsugu asked cautiously.

— His body is lucky, but mentally, he is clearly much more traumatized. It seems he suffered amnesia due to the shock he experienced. He remembers absolutely nothing about his past... The only thing he told us was his name...

— I see... — Kiritsugu said thoughtfully.

He was not surprised by this at all... If the boy had seen even a part of what happened that night... There was nothing strange about his mind reacting this way…

— Can I see him? — Kiritsugu asked.

— Yes, I suppose... Just please, no more than five minutes, — the doctor nodded.

A minute later, they reached his room, after which the doctor opened the door and let Kiritsugu in.

Upon entering, he saw a boy about ten years old. He had black hair and crimson eyes that made Kiritsugu uneasy. He wasn't sure whether it was the shade of the eyes or the emptiness he saw in them.

— Shirou, how do you feel? — the doctor asked him.

— Same as an hour ago, — the boy replied indifferently.

— This man really wanted to see you and talk with you. Do you mind?

For a moment, Shirou stared at Kiritsugu, as if trying to remember where he might have seen him, but apparently, the attempt was fruitless, and he simply shrugged.

— No, I don't mind, — he replied.

— Then I'll leave you two alone, five minutes, — the doctor reminded him and exited.

— Thank you, doc, — Kiritsugu nodded.

An incredibly uncomfortable silence reigned for a while. Neither of them broke it. Shiro simply didn't know what to talk about, and Kiritsugu didn't know how to start their conversation.

— I remembered... — Shirou suddenly said, turning his gaze to the window.

— Remembered? What exactly?

— Your voice... I've heard it before, and your features also seemed familiar. It's... It's you who got me out, right? — Shirou replied slowly.

— Yes... I found you under the rubble of one of the houses... — Kiritsugu sighed heavily, trying to remember as little as possible from that night.

— Then thank you... — the boy said quietly before asking, — No one else?

— Just you... — Kiritsugu shook his head.

— I see... — Shirou uttered absentmindedly, staring out the window again, — You didn't come just to hear "thank you," did you?

— No... You see, you have no one left, right?

— No, at least I don't remember anyone... — Shirou shook his head negatively.

— I'm sorry, I probably shouldn't have...

— It's alright, I said I don't remember anything. So I can't be upset, and you're not the first to ask...

— Well... Shirou... Right now, you have two paths: you can go to an orphanage, where you'll grow up with other children until you reach adulthood, or... I can adopt you and take you with me.

— You... Want to... adopt me? — Shirou asked in surprise, as if checking whether he had misheard.

— Yes. I understand how that might sound, especially coming from a stranger you've known for five minutes...

— I agree, — Shirou unexpectedly replied.

— W-wait... Just like that? — now it was Kiritsugu's turn to be surprised, — Don't think I'm complaining, but... Are you sure about your decision? I mean, you don't know me at all but agreed so quickly...

— I don't want to go to an orphanage... I've never been there and don't remember what it is, but... For some reason, I'm sure I won't like it. And... You don't seem like a bad person.

— Where does that confidence come from?

— If you were bad, would you have saved me or anyone else from that rubble?

— A solid argument, — Kiritsugu smiled for the first time in days, — Alright... If you're sure, I won't try to dissuade you. I think I can prepare everything by the time you're discharged, and for now, just focus on recovering and gaining strength, — he said, then headed for the exit but stopped halfway, — Oh, right, I almost forgot. My name is Kiritsugu, Emiya Kiritsugu.

— Emiya Kiritsugu... — Shirou slowly repeated, remembering his new name, — And I'm Shirou... Emiya Shirou...

Kiritsugu left, after which Shirou tiredly fell onto his pillow and closed his eyes. The man he had spoken with was very strange. He spoke very slowly, as if afraid of something. Even his smile seemed odd, as if it pained him to smile...

But Shirou decided to set those thoughts aside for later...

He stood up and approached the window for a better view of the city. But when Emiya opened his eyes, he initially couldn't believe what he saw. Only after blinking and rubbing his eyes thoroughly did he realize he was not imagining things...

His hands, legs, bed, windows... Everything he looked at...

... all of it was lined with thin red lines...