Fate: Konton no Tatakai

A/N: I hope you enjoy it. And thank you very much for the reviews you leave me, I'm sorry I can't answer them all.

Mandatory notice: The Fate series, its characters, and any elements of the Nasuverse present in the following do not belong to me. They are property of Type-Moon.

Clue:

'Thoughts.'

"Dialogue."

"Supernatural voice."

"Thaumaturgy."

Í͕̟͓̈́͑ǹ͛͒co͎͉̍̐n̨̼͔̤̉ͮ͊c҉̘̪̟͉e̖͐b ̬̝̪͢í̡ͣ̏̄̚bͤl̗͙͕̘͠ͅͅe̟̝͓̘̘͍̮ͤ̿͒ͯ̽̒̀ ̺͕̇ͪ

The door's hinges creaked slightly as Sougen closed it. The healer let out a final sigh as he finished, but not before taking one last look at the room he was leaving—or rather, at its occupants.

On one side stood Makihisa Tohno. A mix of man and oni, and the head of the most prominent family in Japan belonging to that lineage. A shrewd and successful businessman, some would say; a sadistic and monstrous beast, others would argue. Truth be told, few people could truly discern which of those two alter egos was crawling beneath the man's skin at any given moment.

Sougen had reason to believe that the demon who had orchestrated the downfall of the Nanaya was not present at the moment, but he kept close the unsettling feeling that such a thing could change in the blink of an eye—after all, it depended entirely on the temperament of the man before him.

And on the other side, Kiritsugu Emiya. A professional mercenary and hitman in the normal world, but a high-caliber bounty hunter and the most feared Magus Killer of his generation in the moonlit world. A man with a nearly five-year-long career during which he had eradicated Sealing Designations, Dead Apostles, and all manner of mundane threats with a near-unmatched success rate—enough to earn him recognition from the Mage Association, despite having no affiliation with it.

Fundamentally, the two men could not have been more different, and Sougen found it difficult to imagine any scenario where they might be friends. He was well aware of the encounters they had shared a decade earlier—and of how those had ultimately ended.

And therein lay the root of his concern. He knew both men well—well enough to understand that a single misstep could turn the conversation into a bloodbath. One that would inevitably end with Kiritsugu hastening his reunion with Natalia, given the circumstances.

Naturally, the outcome would be entirely different if Emiya were at full strength and had his arsenal at hand, but it was pointless to waste time debating nonexistent possibilities.

For now, Sougen could only hope that both men would keep their aggression in check and maintain a civil discussion. He wouldn't risk his luck wishing for anything beyond that—and it wasn't as if he placed much faith in miracles either.

"Jinan-sama."

The voice pulled him from his thoughts. He turned to his left, meeting Hisui's emerald-green eyes. She gazed at him expectantly, and for a fleeting moment, the mere sight of her was enough to drown him in memories.

She and her older sister had only been discovered by Makihisa after he had tried to find them a new home following the death of their mother, Shinju Fujou, to the incurable illness that plagued the failing members of her clan. And for those born into families of the Taima Soshiki, the risk of being targeted by demons and half-bloods—especially those from the Four Great Clans—was particularly high, leaving them with almost no options.

That was why it had been so unthinkable for Makihisa to take them under his protection. Unthinkable—but terrifyingly effective. With the twins under the Tohno family's aegis, no demon could take vengeance upon them for their ancestors' actions, and even less so as the influence of both demons and their half-human descendants continued to wane with each passing generation.

Sougen sighed—the irony was not lost on him. He had been quick to condemn Kiritsugu, yet he himself had orchestrated another tragedy in an attempt to prevent precisely the kind of outcome he feared. But he knew the saying well:

The road to hell is paved with good intentions.

"Well then, let's go find your sister, Hisui-chan," he finally said. The green-eyed girl nodded before leading the way toward the stairs, with the healer following in step.

They descended slowly, giving Sougen the chance to take in the mansion's interior once more. Despite his aversion to both the house and the name it bore, he couldn't deny its grandeur. The mansion was an architectural masterpiece—a silent testament to the family's wealth and the long history they had accumulated.

The only flaw—the rust on the coin—was the oppressive aura that clung to it, never truly dissipating. Ordinary people wouldn't perceive it as anything more than the occasional, inexplicable shiver running down their spine. But for those attuned to the supernatural—especially spiritual healers like himself—it was impossible to ignore.

At times, that presence was faint, barely noticeable. But at others, it became something suffocating. If it was normally an unseen miasma that darkened the very atmosphere, it could just as easily twist into a vicious vortex, emanating something far worse.

If it were up to him, he would have called in an exorcist long ago—purging any lingering spirits before they became a problem. But such a suggestion would only fall on deaf ears. For obvious reasons, Makihisa would never allow such an individual to step foot in his home. Not that it would matter—by his very nature, Makihisa neither feared nor would be particularly affected by such things.

And yet, as Sougen walked, he couldn't shake the feeling that the presence in the house had grown even stronger.

"Are you feeling okay?"

Hisui's voice broke through his thoughts again. For the second time, his gaze met her own. The young maid now looked at him with a hint of concern, watching from a few steps below. At some point, he had stopped walking without realizing it.

"I got distracted, that's all," he replied, shaking his head slightly before clapping his hands together. Satisfied, he finally descended the last few steps, and the two continued their way forward.

The lower floor was somewhat less ornate than the upper levels, yet it retained the house's regal air. Turning down a simpler hallway, they traversed it at a steady pace before stopping in front of a door.

"Neesan."

Hisui knocked lightly.

"Where did you leave Shirou-san?" she asked, before pausing. For a second, she thought she had heard something on the other side—but it was nothing.

Frowning, she knocked again. No response.

That was unusual.

Her expression darkened slightly as she placed a hand on the handle and turned it. The door groaned softly as it swung open, revealing—

An empty room.

For several seconds, neither of them spoke. They only turned to each other, sharing the same unspoken question.

Until Sougen finally gave voice to it:

"Where is he?"

"Your rice turned out pretty good. You said you've only made this a couple of times before?"

Shirou nodded, glancing at the grains of rice that had taken on a much softer texture after boiling. He would be lying if he said it was difficult, but he couldn't help feeling a quiet sense of satisfaction at the result.

He was careful not to let himself get distracted as he chopped the mushrooms, listening to the sound of Kohaku doing the same—though she was working on a fish beside him. It was clear she had been doing this task for quite some time, and he imagined a much younger Kohaku, wearing a comically oversized chef's hat, chopping vegetables with an even bigger knife.

Predictably, that thought made him chuckle.

"Don't get distracted."

That earned him a reprimand from the redhead, who had just finished slicing a salmon into a dozen pieces and set them aside on another plate. She then turned her attention to a small packet of vegetables, opening it with practiced ease.

The walk from his room to the kitchen had been short. Kohaku had mentioned that the servants' quarters were close by so they could start their duties as early as possible. And now, here they were, preparing a quick meal together.

Kohaku had originally insisted on handling everything herself, only to run into Shirou's legendary stubbornness—he was adamant about helping. After several minutes of back-and-forth, which mostly consisted of Kohaku refusing and Shirou refusing to back down, they finally reached an agreement.

Not wanting to complicate things too much, and noticing that the pantry still lacked variety despite the groceries Kohaku had bought earlier, they settled on something simple and familiar to both of them.

Chirashizushi, also known as "Sushi for Dummies." Essentially, it consists of a bed of rice topped with various ingredients, usually those typical of sushi, in varying proportions. Raw fish, pickles, seaweed, and mushrooms were among the most common.

With most of the ingredients ready, they began preparing the dish.

Shirou had taken charge of boiling the rice while Kohaku cut the salmon. Since that task hadn't taken her long, Shirou had moved on to slicing the mushrooms, which he had just finished.

Without rushing, Kohaku picked up the plate holding the pieces of fish and added the mushrooms Shirou had cut. Using a spoon she had taken out earlier, she stirred the mixture before adding it to the pot with the rice.

"The vegetables go in next, right?"

Kohaku nodded without taking her eyes off the simmering mixture, prompting Shirou to sigh. Truth be told, he still wasn't used to how quiet the amber-eyed girl could be.

He wasn't particularly talkative himself, but compared to Kohaku—who rarely said more than a single sentence at a time—he felt downright chatty. Her usually blank expression didn't help much either.

It was the kind of expression that seemed more fitting for someone like Kiritsugu, whose face often carried a near-permanent air of melancholy. Not for a girl her age.

The man who had adopted him once told him that boys who make girls cry always end up badly.

They remained in silence for a while, watching as their meal continued to cook. At some point, Kohaku seemed to remember that they hadn't set out any plates yet.

She retrieved two plates from a nearby drawer, along with forks and knives, which momentarily puzzled Shirou—until he remembered that, given the Western-style design of the house, it wasn't surprising that traditional tableware was rare here.

After setting everything on a small table where they would eat, they sat down on a pair of conveniently placed stools.

Wanting to break the silence but not wanting to make his companion uncomfortable, Shirou took the opportunity to ask something that had been on his mind.

"Hey, I have a question."

Kohaku turned to look at him, tilting her head slightly.

"For such a big house, why is it just you and your sister handling all the chores?"

Kohaku blinked at the question and took a few seconds before answering.

"It's not just the two of us..." she murmured, fidgeting slightly with her fingers.

"There are actually other servants, but they haven't been around for a while."

"Oh?" Shirou asked, puzzled. "Why is that?"

He noticed the slight way Kohaku flinched and was about to apologize, but she spoke again before he could.

"Master's orders," she said, her voice a little more subdued. "There was an... accident a couple of months ago that affected his mood. Since then, it's just been the two of us here."

Shirou pressed his lips together. Well, that sounded rather unsettling.

He was about to say something when he realized, judging by the aroma filling the kitchen, that their meal was ready.

Not even a full minute had passed since Makihisa had uttered that last sentence. But for Kiritsugu, a hundred years could have passed in that measly instant, and another hundred more as his brain tried to fully comprehend what he was referring to. The former Magus Killer concentrated on the words, while trying to find something more in the impassive face of his opponent, who maintained that expression of absolute seriousness.

He felt almost the same as he had more than eleven years ago, when he had been invited to Weisse Hügel by Jubsteich von Einzbern to receive a rather lucrative proposition for any bounty hunter. And although he was in the heart of the lair of the one who had called him, face to face with another equally inhuman being, he also knew that the occasion could not be more different.

No, that thing was much more similar to the numerous negotiations he had attended since his days with Natalia. Deals with such treacherous and nefarious people as several Magi, as well as crime lords and other figures who fit the definition of scum perfectly.

Even the atmosphere was the same. Even if the tension had ceased to be suffocating, remnants of it still lingered in the atmosphere that enveloped the room.

"And what could be so important that you would propose such a thing?" Kiritsugu asked, this time unwilling to let Makihisa hold the reins of the conversation tightly. "It's very unusual for you to seek to make deals in a direct manner."

"Certainly not as strange as all the events we've dealt with today." Was the tycoon's prompt reply, who seemed to still be searching for something inside that drawer and judging by the time it had taken him, he still couldn't find it. "What's one more compared to these?"

"I suppose you're right," Kiritsugu conceded, suppressing the urge to sigh. Trying to guess what he was after was a futile task, reasoning despite what he had tried before. Given the sudden revelations and the change in the businessman's mood, it was almost impossible to deduce what Makihisa had gotten himself into now that had led him to consider making a deal with him.

He had a bad feeling when the man didn't respond instantly, merely nodding as he finally pulled out a small folder that ended up on his desk, where he opened it before beginning to flip through its pages.

"There is a certain item in my possession that has been missing for over two years," Makihisa confessed, his tone failing to completely hide a hint of annoyance. "I can't tell you what it is until you agree to the deal so you'll have to excuse me for the vague details, but I can tell you that it is almost priceless to me."

Kiritsugu nodded, understanding what the half-blood meant and quickly took the opportunity to step forward. "I'll guess," He commented, staring at Makihisa in hopes of catching him off guard and getting a good read on his inevitable reaction. "Did you hear that thing reappeared somehow?"

Checkmate.

Makihisa stood still for a moment, and the mask he wore showed a crack that allowed Kiritsugu to notice a hint of surprise in his gaze. And as quickly as it had appeared, it vanished without a trace behind.

Kiritsugu:1 - Makihisa:0

"A few days ago," Makihisa continued as he tried to harden his features once more, "Someone was trying to employ my company's services to transport something rather valuable to the mainland. At first, I didn't think much of it, why would I? I don't snoop around on every order that comes in. That's what I have my employees for after all."

Kiritsugu didn't say anything, he simply waited for the man to elaborate further on his story.

"However, I found it rather curious that among the items in that shipment, there were a few things I could identify. How could I not? I had sold them earlier to an acquaintance of mine. A good man, who is sadly no longer with us."

"My condolences," Kiritsugu said dryly, who was more than aware of what kind of people were part of the Tohno family's circle of influence.

But Makihisa simply brushed that aside with a simple gesture. "Yes, a real pity." He said without really meaning it. "Intrigued by my discovery, I contacted the man's only relative to ask him the reason for such actions. Personal curiosity, you will surely understand."

"So then?" Kiritsugu pressed.

Makihisa paused. "The young lady was quite confused about my call. She knew who I was after I told her of course, plus I had already met her a couple of times before. After I clarified my reasons, she stated something that actually turned that mild curiosity into full-blown interest."

Now, that caught all of Kiritsugu's attention.

"You see." Makihisa twirled his fingers before looking at the former Magus Killer. "It seems that those items were stolen years ago, at the same time that my property actually disappeared. Do you see what I'm getting at?"

Kiritsugu did, indeed. The answer was more than clear, and it lay before him.

"That person who passed away, had that object at the time of his death," Kiritsugu deduced. "And you think that since the two events are connected, you've just found a clue to its possible whereabouts."

Makihisa shook his head.

"I don't think so, Kiritsugu. I know they are." He said, his eyes shining behind his glasses as if he had remembered something that had worsened his mood. "You see, when I tried to investigate further, I received an anonymous letter warning me not to venture further into the subject."

Kiritsugu raised an eyebrow in response. A letter? Well, something like that could only be expected from a…

"A magus threatening me." Makihisa snorted before his expression twisted into a sneer. "Aside from that insult, the letter said that they were in possession of my property and would make sure it never returned to me unless I stayed out of their business."

Kiritsugu nodded, though his eyes betrayed the fact that he was feeling rather amused by Makihisa's annoyance. "And what role do I play in all of this?"

The annoyed look Makihisa gave him almost made him laugh. Oh, how the tides had turned.

"In light of recent events, I'll ignore it," the bespectacled man said before grabbing both of their hands. "If it wasn't obvious, I need the services of one of your people to deal with this problem."

So, that was it. Kiritsugu really should have seen it coming. The reasons why Makihisa would try to talk to him at length were limited in retrospect. It wasn't a job he hadn't experienced in the past, but it wasn't something he would have accepted for anything other than money.

It was not as if he had any sympathy for the man, and even if he wanted to agree, he did not have the faculties to carry out such an undertaking.

Not to mention that he already had a responsibility, one in which he had already failed.

His answer was more than clear.

"I'm not taking jobs anymore," Kiritsugu claimed before crossing his arms. "Besides, I'm not the only bounty hunter living in this country. I'm pretty sure someone with deep pockets like you wouldn't find it difficult to hire someone else."

"I'm well aware of the number of your ilk nearby." Makihisa said calmly, "However, the number of those I've dealt with in the past can be counted on one hand, and the number of those I deem capable enough for this is even smaller."

The tycoon reached for his teacup and took a sip, before facing Kiritsugu once more. "The only person of interest who has enough of my trust to accomplish this small task is sitting in front of me."

"You flatter me." The sarcasm in Kiritsugu's voice was as sharp as a butcher's knife. "That hardly convinces me to listen to you any further. In fact, I think you're making a fool of me."

Seeing the indignation on the man's face, he continued.

"There's another reason you're asking about me, isn't there?"

"Well, if you insist on going deeper, let's just say I need you in particular because this problem is related to an event I'm sure you're quite familiar with."

Kiritsugu froze when Makihisa spoke again.

"You see, it came from the Fourth Holy Grail War Ritual of Fuyuki."

"Three children then," Shirou repeated, raising an eyebrow.

On the opposite side of the table, Kohaku nodded before cutting off a particularly large piece of the Chirashi and spearing it with her fork. "One adopted by Makihisa-sama a few years ago, and two of them being his own. Two boys, and one girl."

Shirou, who had the closest thing he had to a sister in Fuji-nee, could hardly imagine having anyone else. He would have liked to ask more, but the taste of fish and vegetables distracted him from talking for a while as he chewed.

They had been snacking for a while now, chatting over bite after bite. While the redhead had tried not to ask too many questions and had made an effort to keep the conversation flowing, it slowly seemed to have become something more fluid than a constant exchange of monosyllables, much to Shirou's relief, and although he wasn't entirely sure, it seemed to be the girl's as well.

The girl who had imitated his action, and who had almost ended up emptying her plate completely.

Accustomed as he was to seeing Fuji-nee practically devour a pair of these much larger ones, he did not find the scene strange at all.

He was calmer after dancing past the topic of the accident he had mentioned that had surely had to do with one of Mr. Makihisa's children. He had diverted that stream by asking about who else had lived in the house and his red-haired companion tentatively mentioned said children as well as some of the family's history.

The question of where they were was something that seemed to have been telepathically transmitted to Kohaku's mind, because she responded with something she didn't identify almost instantly.

"The daughter Akiha is in a boarding school, a private school called Reien Academy, a bit far from the village," he revealed, dropping his fork. "She won't be returning here for a few months, according to what Makihisa-sama informed us. The eldest son Shiki is in poor health and has been sent to live with relatives living in the region until he recovers."

The last thing was said with a somewhat melancholic touch so slight, that Shirou thought he had imagined it for a moment.

Not wanting Kohaku to regress to the silent persona he had dealt with before, he wanted to focus his attention on something else.

"...And the other child?"

It might not have been the brightest idea, but it had worked. Because almost instantly, Kohaku seemed to narrow her eyes and began to discreetly look around, as if looking for something. Shirou tilted his face slightly to the right in response, and noticed that the amber-eyed girl seemed to be staring at the walls in particular, almost as if she were afraid of them.

After a few minutes, she seemed to calm down and took both of his hands before looking back at him while seeming to be biting one of her lips, as if trying to agree with something.

There was little Shirou could do but ask her if she was okay, even though he could tell she wasn't. But that was better than nothing, so he gathered his courage and asked.

"Are you OK?"

Kohaku hesitated for a couple of seconds before nodding. "Y-yes," she stuttered as she fiddled with her fingers before gulping and letting out a sigh.

"I told you before that the Tohno family weren't magicians, and that's true," he commented, before adding, "And I said they weren't entirely human."

Shirou nodded, intrigued but somewhat nervous by the sinister tone the amber-eyed girl was using.

"The other boy had something in him that caused an incident that left him in bad shape, and he passed away. Makihisa-sama claimed it was a car accident and the case was dropped."

Shirou gulped in return and gave her an apologetic look that was dismissed. Kohaku didn't seem particularly distressed by the boy's fate, which was a little odd but nothing he felt like asking about.

"I feel sorry for your brothers," he said, "I really can't imagine mine gone, just like that," he offered bitterly.

That caught Kohaku's interest. "Do you have a sister?" she asked with some surprise.

Shirou sheepishly scratched the back of his head. "Hmm, not really. She's the neighbor's daughter, but she's been close to me for as long as I remember. Her name is Taiga, and I see her as an older sister."

"Oh," Kohaku replied. "A stepsister then."

"Yes," Shirou said as a slight smile formed on his lips. "She's very cheerful and a bit feisty, but I like her a lot. She used to be my babysitter when Kiritsugu was away."

"Your father must really trust her then," he pointed at the redhead.

"Well, I was her English tutor sometimes and they got along really well," Shirou explained. "She's also good at Kendo and she usually pestered Kiritsugu to train with her, however..."

To Kohaku's surprise, Shirou seemed to have chills. She raised an eyebrow and stared at him, waiting for him to explain further.

"His usual victim was me," he finished with a grimace, rubbing his left arm as if he had felt a phantom pain.

Fuji-nee was as vicious as the animal that hated being compared to anyone when she fought with someone. She could swear that not even the men who sometimes followed her and worked for Raiga-jiji were willing to change places with him the moment she unsheathed her wooden shinai.

A laugh broke the silence.

At first it seemed to be a murmur, but slowly it increased in volume until it became a light chuckle.

Kohaku chuckled, her shoulders shaking as if she was suppressing the urge to laugh louder.

It was quite a contrast to the reserved image Shirou had already grown accustomed to. But, he found her very pleasant.

Without realizing it, he started laughing too.

For a couple of minutes, they did nothing but laugh to the point where tears escaped from their eyes.

"Wow, so here you two are." A harsh voice was heard speaking, causing the two of them to stand completely still, like deer being surprised on the road. At the same time, they turned to the nearest door and saw Sougen there accompanied by Hisui, who had his eyes wide open as if he had seen an apparition.

"..."

"..."

Even all his experience wasn't enough to stop Kiritsugu from openly showing surprise upon hearing that. His eyes widened as he unconsciously took a step back in search of balance.

The day seemed to get more and more complicated with each passing minute. After one situation, another would arise out of nowhere and drag him into a web of intrigue he certainly hadn't missed at all.

He looked into Makihisa's gaze, who maintained his serious expression and, contrary to what Kiritsugu would have expected, did not seem to be enjoying his reaction as he would have done on other occasions. Instead, the tycoon simply stared back at him, almost waiting for him to regain his ability to speak.

"It wasn't exactly a secret that you participated in that event," Makihisa continued, seeing that Kiritsugu remained silent. "That you are connected to this, as one of the people with the best record for performing the task I need, is almost a blessing," he stated dryly.

"I'm more surprised that you know it so well." Kiritsugu replied with a frown. "I never took you for someone who paid much attention to magicians' rituals."

The tycoon snorted before beginning to explain, "One hundred and forty years ago, an ancestor of mine was invited to Fuyuki by an associate of his, the daughter of a man named Nagato Tohsaka." He then added, "I'm not privy to the particular details, the records of such things were vague at best... However, I know it was a bloodbath."

He finished speaking and clasped his hands together.

Kiritsugu nodded. Judging by the timeline, he was talking about the Second Holy Grail War, which, according to the Einzbern family, had turned into little more than a glorified killing spree, although Kiritsugu had never looked into the specifics of the participants in that event.

"The Tohno Clan hasn't shown any interest in venturing into something like that again since then," Makihisa continued. "We know when it happens, but we try to stay away from it, for our own sake and for the sake of those involved in that carnage."

"What changed, then?" Kiritsugu asked.

"Like all important things, it's a long story." The bespectacled man sighed. "I know that you magicians came up with it to create some wish-granting device, and to claim it, you must bring legendary souls to fight for that exclusive right. Quite a spectacle, I'm sure," he said, frowning. "However, I, personally, have no interest in the Ritual, but I did know a couple of men who certainly had a very strong personal interest in it."

"The man who died back then," Kiritsugu deduced. "He was a participant."

Makihisa nodded. "Precisely, he knew about the event years before it started and made sure to prepare a lot of things. Of course, being a partner of mine, I sold him some of what he needed, or simply pointed him in the right direction in exchange for a good payment. It was a good deal, I'm sure you understand."

"Who was he?" Kiritsugu pressed, already trying to eliminate the possibilities in his head. Considering that most of the Masters and their associates hadn't survived the War, eliminating options would take time. Deep down, Kiritsugu was grateful that for once, Makihisa had decided to get straight to the point.

"It was Saitou Reiroukan. The former second owner of Tokyo," Makihisa revealed, finally noticing that there was still some tea left in his cup.

Kiritsugu blinked at the revelation and didn't speak. That made... sense.

He had half-expected the name of the former Tohsaka Patriarch to come up, since he highly doubted that Makihisa Tohno had been an associate of the former Lord El-Melloi, given how arrogant the Brand-ranked magus had been.

No, it made sense that Makihisa had aligned himself with the former administrator of the nearest magical territory in Japan. However...

Saitou Reiroukan had been one of the Masters Kiritsugu hadn't managed to meet face to face during the War. Not alive, nor dead. In fact, he only knew that Saitou had been Caster's Master because he had been one of the participants who had successfully registered with the Overseer.

Although Kiritsugu had seen Caster's Servant a few times, there had been no signs of activity from his Master.

"The item that's mine was with Saitou during that time. It was part of a deal we made, in which he would make some adjustments that needed to be done before it was returned to me," Makihisa explained, before frowning. "However, at some point during the Ritual, he was killed and some of his belongings were stolen, including my possession."

A grimace of displeasure crossed his face but disappeared just as quickly as it appeared. He took a sip of tea before turning back to Kiritsugu. "This is where you come in, Kiritsugu. That's why I'm particularly in need of your services."

"I see," Kiritsugu replied with a nod. "But you're forgetting something, Tohno."

"Oh?" Makihisa raised an eyebrow.

"I have no reason to get involved in this." Kiritsugu stated calmly. "Nothing. This goes beyond a simple favor; that much is clear."

"That's why I said at the beginning that we could try to reach an agreement between us that would benefit both sides," Makihisa responded, not seeming concerned by Kiritsugu's refusal.

Kiritsugu snorted. "Even if you offered me half your fortune, I wouldn't accept it. There's nothing you can offer me that I truly want, Tohno." He gave him a look that promised pain. "And if you dare threaten Shirou in retaliation, then I swear that..."

Makihisa stopped him with a hand gesture. "Believe it or not, I have no intention of harming your adopted son. I'm certainly not that cruel or petty, unlike how you must perceive me."

His grey eyes focused on Kiritsugu. "And are you really so heartless that you'd just die and leave him to grow up alone?"

This time, Kiritsugu wasn't surprised. Anger clouded his vision as he gritted his teeth. Sougen saying that was one thing; he could accept it from the old healer.

But from someone like him?

"I'm sure I can find a way to break that curse that plagues your body," Makihisa offered. "I'm pretty sure such a thing would be invaluable to you."

"Good luck," Kiritsugu replied. "It's terminal. Sougen practically declared there's no cure, Tohno."

Makihisa simply laughed in response.

"Come on, surely you don't believe that in a world like ours, full of impossibilities, there isn't a way or two to get rid of that evil."

Two pairs of amber eyes, one brighter than the other, met a pair of black eyes and another of green.

For several seconds, neither group uttered a word, though for different reasons.

Shirou felt like he had when Taiga caught him trying to cook on his own after being forced to survive on fast food ordered by her while she acted as his babysitter. Though in part, he was more paralyzed by the presence of the old healer, who, in a way, had also been responsible for all the misadventures the redhead had experienced that day.

So great was his surprise that he almost overlooked Hisui, whose wide-eyed expression seemed to make her older sister uncomfortable—so much so that she unconsciously took a step back.

But she quickly recovered enough to shake off her stupor. "Ahh, Jinan-sama." She addressed the healer with as much courtesy as she could muster at that moment. "Good evening."

"Good evening, Kohaku-chan," Sougen greeted, adopting the gentle tone he used when speaking to children. "We went to your room to ask where you had left Shirou-kun." He paused as he glanced at the redhead. "But I see you had him with you. I'm sure his father will be very grateful."

The reaction of both redheads to that remark did not escape his notice, and he let out a sigh.

"Why is he here?" Shirou finally managed to ask, unable to remain silent any longer. Had he not eaten, he might have sounded rather rude, so that was a small blessing.

"Makihisa didn't tell you?" Sougen asked, raising an eyebrow. "I came with your father to pick you up, and they both sent me to check on you." He crossed his arms before adding, "The scare you gave Kiritsugu was something I never thought I'd witness." He attempted to sound stern, but his last remark undermined the effect.

However, judging by Shirou's doubtful expression, it didn't seem to have much impact.

"Hmm, I feel like you two have a lot to talk about, and we wouldn't want to interrupt." Hisui suddenly said, drawing the attention of the other three, especially her sister, who seemed as if she wanted to say something but ultimately just nodded.

Hisui walked up to her and, taking her by the hand, led her out of the kitchen. Kohaku didn't resist, but before leaving, she cast one last glance at Shirou, who could only respond with a small, nervous smile.

And soon, he was left alone in the kitchen with no one but the healer, who, judging by his concentrated expression, seemed to be deep in thought.

His expression suddenly changed as he frowned, noticing something about the redhead.

"Shirou-kun, what's with that bandage on your forehead?" he asked, stepping closer. The amber-eyed boy blushed upon realizing he had forgotten about it and moved some of his bangs aside to make the small piece of cloth on his forehead more visible.

"Th-this..." He stammered, embarrassed. "I wasn't watching where I was running and accidentally crashed into a pole." He confessed, red with embarrassment.

"I see." Sougen chuckled before raising his hand. "Don't move, please." He placed his palm against Shirou's forehead, murmuring something the boy couldn't quite make out. Almost instantly, a warm sensation of magical energy flowed from the healer's fingers into his skin. Apart from a slight sting that lasted only a second or two, he felt no discomfort.

"There, good as new." Sougen withdrew his hand, having used a simple healing spell to speed up the recovery process. For minor injuries like this, it wasn't difficult to make them disappear with the right magic.

"Thank you," Shirou said with a smile, running his right hand over the spot where the wound had been, finding that the swelling had completely disappeared.

"It was nothing," the healer replied. "Good thing it was just a small accident and had nothing to do with Makihisa. Otherwise, I don't think your father would have forgiven him."

Shirou quickly shook his head. "Makihisa-san didn't do anything wrong to me." He avoided mentioning that the man had initially threatened to force the truth out of him, not wanting to upset the healer after what had surely been a stressful ordeal for him. "Oh well. I admit, I was a little scared at first." He finally confessed when Sougen gave him a suspicious look.

That only made the man sigh in exasperation.

"Typical Makihisa—he can't go a single day without acting like that," he muttered, shaking his head.

Shirou could only nod in response, and once again, silence filled the air.

To say it was just an awkward silence would be an understatement. A myriad of reasons, like heavy chains, kept them from speaking, condemning them to simply letting time pass.

The redhead shifted uncomfortably, frowning slightly, before glancing at the healer, who looked as if he were deep in meditation.

Gathering his courage, he spoke.

"Hmm, Jinan-san," he said, trying to sound as respectful as possible. "I'm really sorry about all this."

"What do you mean?" the healer asked, raising an eyebrow. Shirou bit his lip before answering. "For running away, making the old man worry so much, and dragging you into all of this."

Sougen closed his eyes and crossed his arms. "Your reaction was natural. You were scared and acted on instinct—no one can blame you for that, not even Kiritsugu." He explained in a conciliatory tone. "Especially not him."

His expression darkened slightly.

"I don't agree with how Kiritsugu raised you. But I understand what he was trying to do—protect you."

Shirou hesitated for a few seconds before timidly nodding. "Makihisa-san told me a few things," he admitted, looking slightly embarrassed. "But only because I asked him, and he helped me as best he could."

"He did what?" Sougen's voice was laced with skepticism, and his expression turned to one of concern.

"... I needed to know what had happened," Shirou murmured, gripping the hem of his shirt and lowering his gaze. The healer's expression softened at the gesture, and he gently placed a hand on the redhead's shoulder.

"He really was a bad person before, wasn't he?" Shirou finally asked, lifting his head.

"You can ask him yourself when you see him soon," Sougen replied, his tone utterly sincere. "He's been through a lot, and honestly, I'm surprised by how much he's changed. I'm pretty sure the reason for that change was you."

"..." Shirou unconsciously smiled at those words, his posture relaxing—until he suddenly realized something.

"... Wait a minute, are Kiritsugu and Makihisa-san talking alone?" he asked, his face reflecting a hint of dread.

That dread only deepened when the healer nodded.

"So you're accepting this as your end." Makihisa mused with some sympathy in his voice as he finally set down his teacup.

Kiritsugu rolled his eyes in response, so accustomed had he become to the older man's mannerisms that he preferred to ignore them most of the time.

He nearly gritted his teeth in response to a sharp pain in his left arm, as the curse plaguing his body manifested again as a reminder that he was all but doomed. The curse that had come from the Grail was truly something unique compared to the other things he had seen emerge from the tainted vessel.

He could clearly remember the thick, dark sludge that turned anything unfortunate enough to touch it into flames, exuding a sense of pure malevolence. He was never a talented mage nor had he ever harbored the desire to become one, but in his line of work, he had become well-acquainted with such things, for better or worse.

A vast amount of magical energy, corrupted by vile intent, had taken physical form. It could well be described as the tide of a sea of curses and other negative spells, but none of them were particularly sophisticated.

Judging by the effects they had inflicted on central Shinto, they were the accumulation of hundreds of thousands of blasphemies, each carrying the attribute of killing and consuming. A handful alone would hardly have been a problem for any magus with average control over their magical energy, but on a scale like that... Kiritsugu couldn't even imagine the devastation it would cause before the world's own countermeasures against cataclysms of such magnitude inevitably activated.

However, the one that had taken root in his circuits, courtesy of Angra Mainyu, was something designed specifically in a fit of rage and malice. It was not a curse of death or decay.

It was a curse of suffering.

The curse released itself in the form of sporadic, painful pulses that felt as though countless hot needles were piercing his skin, and the sensation intensified with any sudden movement.

He had also discovered that it reacted poorly whenever he tried to channel magical energy. He had attempted it a couple of times before deciding it wasn't worth the risk.

At first, it had been a sharp pain, one that made a simple headache feel like a gentle caress in comparison, until it eventually escalated into an all-out attack.

The pain was almost unbearable, and it grew far worse the longer it lashed out at him. Added to that was the fact that it disrupted the flow of magical energy through his circuits, turning it into a deadly trap.

Thaumaturgy beyond a magus's limits would kill him — that was almost an absolute truth — but the same applied to exposing himself to risks within his circuits. Given that circuits were such a fundamental part of a magus, any damage to them could spell the end of one's career or even life itself.

He knew this well, for his own trump card was designed to target that very weakness in other magi who had the misfortune of becoming his targets.

How ironic, then, that now he was facing a similar Sword of Damocles himself. He was almost completely helpless, with no access to his circuits and only a fraction of his combat knowledge at his disposal.

This was why the vials of potion Sougen had concocted were a blessing to him. They had a sanctifying effect on the curse, temporarily numbing the pain, though it could easily end at any moment.

But it wasn't a cure.

Not even a proper treatment. All the potion did was dull the effects of the curse and prevent him from feeling the pain.

Nothing could be done to dispel its root, which lay comfortably inside him, its fangs digging viciously into his body, ensuring that he was not exempt from its torment.

And therein lay the reason for his despair.

The human body was fragile — incredibly fragile. Even with the advances of modern medicine and thaumaturgy itself, it had a definite limit to how much damage it could endure before collapsing.

Kiritsugu had sustained several injuries over the course of his career, not all of them from mundane causes. Gunshots, stabbings, blunt-force trauma, bites, burns, spells, and more had all begun to take their toll.

But none had been quite like one of the few pieces of thaumaturgy he had used extensively in his missions.

Innate Time Control, developed from fragments of the thaumaturgy worked by the Emiya Family, obtained from the remnants of the Crest purchased from the Association by Natalia.

A series of spells that allowed him, through a personal, limited field, to accelerate the flow of time within his body for a few seconds, enabling him to move at vastly superior speeds.

It sounded like an enviable skill for any fighter or mercenary in the same line of work, until the consequences of using it came to light.

Forcing such a sudden change on the body and then halting it wreaked havoc. Torn ligaments, internal bleeding — using Innate Time Control was responsible for leaving countless injuries across his body. Just using Avalon for a while had prevented these wounds from becoming even more serious, reducing the deeper ones to mere cuts and sparing some of the smaller wounds from any lasting effects.

Many of these injuries had never fully healed, and the pressure from the curse's pain was now exacerbating them.

Eventually, it would reach a point where the trauma would cause irreparable damage to his vital organs, and lead him to an early grave.

"And you know something?" Makihisa suddenly asked, causing Kiritsugu to raise an eyebrow. "I really like your son. He's like a breath of fresh air compared to the usual things I have to deal with. However, I'm quite saddened by the thought of a young man like him having to experience the loss of a father again. That's something even I can feel sorry for."

It took Kiritsugu a few seconds to connect the dots, and then he sighed before responding. "How much did Shirou tell you?"

He wasn't entirely sure how bad it was that, of all people, Makihisa Tohno now had unexpected insight into his personal life. Then again, it could be worse… but still.

"Of course not." The bespectacled man snorted in amusement. "Give him some credit. He only shared a few things about himself—aside from the curious tale of how he ended up in my mansion. You should ask him about that when you see him again. Now that's a childhood memory."

The man paused and chuckled, as if the thought itself amused him, before turning back to Emiya with a sigh."No, Kiritsugu. He only said just enough for me to piece things together and make an educated guess. And even then, I doubt I have the full picture."

"Tell me." Kiritsugu crossed his arms, prompting Makihisa to blink before smiling.

"Very well," he said, clasping his hands together. "I'll tell you what I believe—and then, what I know." He watched Kiritsugu closely, searching for any sign of discomfort. Finding none, he prepared to continue.

"What I know is that you took the poor boy in after a horrific incident left him orphaned. That you barely taught him anything about the world we live in. That you brought him here so Sougen could check if anything was wrong with his magic circuits—only for Shirou to wake up and overhear the two of you discussing grim matters. Matters that obviously terrified him enough to make him run away as if he were being chased by a ghost."His gaze bore into Kiritsugu, daring him to refute his words. The former mercenary, however, remained utterly expressionless.

"And what do you believe, then?" Kiritsugu pressed further.

"Well, we have an orphaned boy with magical potential who survived a disaster—one that, by his own account, you were involved in. Then, you appear, seemingly retired from your career, carrying a curse." Makihisa leaned back, feigning deep thought. "It all fits, given what I know. And honestly, it wasn't that hard to figure out. I'd be disappointed if not for the fact that I'm sure there's far more to this story than meets the eye."

"Just get to the point already," Kiritsugu demanded.

Makihisa rolled his eyes before nodding."Whatever catastrophe struck Fuyuki two years ago, it was—one way or another—your doing. And that poor boy? He's probably one of the surviving victims. A victim that, out of guilt, you rescued and then decided to adopt as your own."

He turned to Kiritsugu once more and simply waited. The question was unnecessary.

The black-haired man sighed, closing his eyes for a brief moment before reopening them and nodding.

"Shirou was at the heart of that hell and barely survived. I found him purely by chance, buried beneath the rubble, while trying to rescue those caught in the crossfire." The memory surged forward in Kiritsugu's mind, vivid as ever.

"I won't deny that it was my fault," he admitted, grimacing. "But compared to the alternative that was about to be unleashed… there really was no other choice."

"The same utilitarian approach you preached some time ago, huh?" Makihisa noted, his tone uncharacteristically cordial. "I'm no saint to criticize that kind of thinking—but you already know how I feel about it."

Kiritsugu nodded but remained silent. Another pause settled between them, stretching into several minutes, each lost in their own thoughts.

Emiya couldn't say he enjoyed the quiet, but after the exhausting argument with the half-breed, he welcomed the moment of calm.

Taking the opportunity, he picked up the long-abandoned cup of tea in front of him and took a sip. The liquid, now cold from neglect, moistened his lips before flooding his mouth with its flavor.

Karma really was hitting him hard today. What had started as a simple medical visit had somehow escalated into a conspiracy tied to the worst moment of his life in recent years. It almost felt like yet another product of Angra Mainyu's curse.

And to think… all of this could have been avoided if—

That was when the déjà vu struck. And with it, a creeping suspicion took root in his mind.

"Can I ask you something, Tohno?" he inquired calmly.

The question made the man raise an eyebrow, momentarily puzzled, but seeing no reason to refuse, he nodded.

Seeing this, Kiritsugu asked again,"Apart from your desire to hire me to investigate your little mystery—and pressuring me to discuss the terms—why are you so fixated on Shirou?"

Makihisa's eyes narrowed behind his glasses for a brief moment."I don't know what you're talking about. Given how much you care about him, it's only logical to use him to sway your opinion."

But Kiritsugu wasn't convinced.

"I highly doubt that," he countered. "I know you too well, Tohno. I know exactly what kind of man you are—especially when you're in business mode. You're ruthless, opportunistic, and you have a habit of going straight for the jugular."

Now it was Kiritsugu's turn to narrow his eyes."No, there's something more. The fact that you keep bringing him up tells me you have another reason—one you're not telling me."

The two men locked eyes in a silent battle of wills, neither backing down. A full minute passed before Makihisa finally let out an amused snort.

"So perceptive when you want to be," the tycoon muttered, not a trace of malice in his voice. Then, he sighed.

His eyes drifted across the room, unfocused, unable to settle on any one point.

That told Kiritsugu everything he needed to know.

Makihisa didn't know how to say what he was about to reveal.

Which meant… it was something deeply personal.

But he didn't have to wait long to find out.

"Life brings some pretty curious things," the half-breed began to tell, still without looking at Kiritsugu. "There are times when many coincidences arise with situations and people that couldn't be more different, but nevertheless, they can't help but be surprised when one of these falls into their lap."

He put a hand to his neck, and with his index finger, he began to trace a part of it.

"You weren't the only one who adopted a child," he finally said, before his tone took on a more nostalgic note. "One who was also a victim of tragedy could well be said to have been the consequence of one of my actions. Although, my motives for doing so weren't as noble as yours."

"Yet you did it." Kiritsugu pointed out.

"Indeed." Makihisa nodded, before frowning. "It was originally something I decided on a whim. A foolish decision born out of coincidence that suddenly appeared in front of me and I took it. He was welcomed into my home by my other children a few years ago, and I came to really enjoy his presence."

"I guess something happened." It wasn't a question.

Makihisa nodded grimly and really looked like a man of his age for the first time. "There was an incident here one day, and I was sitting in this very chair when it happened. I was busy reading some newspapers, as I usually do, when my daughter's scream reached my ears. I ran as fast as I could, fearing the worst, and by the time I reached the garden, it was too late…"

Kiritsugu shared a similar grimace.

"The blood of demons inherited from our ancestors thins with each generation, that much is true. However, there are always cases where a family member ends up with more than just the burden of demonic blood." Makihisa said as his tone turned bitter. "They also carry the bloodlust that usually accompanies these creatures."

That made Kiritsugu stop.

Offspring between humans and ghostly species had been possible in the past. However, it was a rare practice even in the era when mystery was strong in the world and had almost disappeared in the modern era.

However, the descendants of those once involved still lived on in one form or another. Her own mentor had ancestors who had crossed paths with a succubus once, but Natalia hadn't inherited much more than enhanced reflexes.

The matter here was another case.

In Japan's past, many families wanted to interbreed with the Oni race. This resulted in multiple mixed-blood clans, the Tohno being one of them.

He had rarely been involved in hunting those who had gone into a frenzy when their Reversal Drive corroded their sense of self and turned them into bloodthirsty beasts, but he knew enough to have a clear idea of what had happened.

"My condolences," he offered sincerely.

Makihisa didn't reprimand him. Instead, the older man seemed to have regressed into a state somewhat similar to mourning.

"That was a few months ago," he said, "and I've sent my other children away for now so they can recover from that traumatic experience while I wonder if there was anything I could have done to prevent it."

It was the second time that day that he heard the story of a family tragedy closely linked to demons.

"I'm not done yet," Makihisa suddenly spoke, bringing Kiritsugu out of his thoughts. The half-breed now had a somewhat stern expression on his face as he stared at the raven coldly.

"You were asking why I put so much emphasis on your son. There you have it," he continued unyieldingly, this time being the one who crossed his arms.

"Do you feel that Shirou might be in danger in the future?"

"I don't feel it, Kiritsugu." Makihisa huffed before adjusting his glasses. "I can see perfectly well that it will happen. And the number of times it happens before the worst takes place remains to be seen."

"That's exactly why I need to keep him as far away from all of this as humanly possible," Kiritsugu replied before narrowing his eyes. "And things like your assignment are the exact opposite of that."

"And you've done a phenomenal job so far." Sarcasm returned to Makihisa's tone after being absent for several minutes. "I'm sure you and Shirou-kun were just playing hide and seek, but in an extreme version."

"That one of your children died from an accident of your family's condition does not give you the slightest right to—!" Kiritsugu barely managed to finish the sentence before his instincts went on alert and he moved as quickly as possible to the left, avoiding a punch that would have almost connected with his abdomen.

He turned to face forward, only to find Makihisa giving him his coldest stare. He had moved so fast around his desk, he hadn't even noticed.

Advantages of his inhuman lineage.

"Repeat such a thing in front of me again, Emiya." Makihisa spoke in a tone that was extremely sepulchral and full of hostility, differing greatly from all the others he had used. "And you will find out what happened there firsthand."

And as if that weren't enough, the curse claimed that movement, sending a sharp pain through his left leg that made him grit his teeth.

"...I'm sorry, that was too much." He admitted, letting some of the sudden agony slip into his tone.

Agony that was caught by the other, who merely nodded before taking a few steps and turning towards the window.

"I spoke with Shirou-kun right here not long ago," he continued, his hands clasped behind his back. "Our first meeting might not have been the best, and it was clear that he was quite nervous about my presence, so I tried to gain his trust by offering answers that satisfied both our curiosities."

Kiritsugu stayed silent, knowing he was about to hear what had happened between them.

"Naturally, the first questions I asked were about the reasons for his stay in Misaki, and your presence here. But do you know what one of the first questions he asked me was?"

Almost instinctively, Kiritsugu shook his head, and Makihisa interpreted the silence as a negative response.

"He asked directly what you did as a magus."

To say the blood froze in his veins was an understatement for the ex-mercenary, who immediately clenched his fists.

"Tell me that..."

"I did." Makihisa interrupted him without hesitation, no malice in his voice. "Do you know what I saw? A poor child terrified by the idea that everything was falling apart and that he was living a lie. A child who needed the truth, no matter how painful it was, and who couldn't stand those doubts eating at him. So, I told him. I told that child about the most infamous Magus Killer of his generation."

"So, he knows everything..." Bitterness crept into Emiya's voice at the thought.

"I'm not that crude." Makihisa turned, noticing Kiritsugu's cadaverous expression and rolling his eyes. "I didn't mention any details of your 'undertakings,' nor did I include any of the exaggerations that have been made."

"And that'll surely make everything better," Kiritsugu retorted with a mix of melancholy and irritation. "What kind of image will he have of me now because of that?"

Makihisa snorted.

"What? Do you think he sees you as the bogeyman now? That your mere presence terrifies him, and he'll hide from you as much as he can? Please." It almost sounded like the half-breed was mocking him.

"Would you blame him if that happened after hearing all that from me?" Kiritsugu scolded.

"No, I would," the tycoon replied calmly. "But I doubt that will happen because that boy holds you in too high regard to let that turn you into a monstrous image in his eyes."

Confused, Kiritsugu raised an eyebrow, prompting Makihisa to sigh.

"The boy adores you. Anyone can see that. Even with the fear, the anguish, and the terrible revelations, it's clear that he still holds a strong attachment to you. One that won't break easily—if it breaks at all." Makihisa said in a way that could be called paternal.

"Besides, that wasn't the only thing I told him."

Kiritsugu lifted his head, paying attention.

"The Magus Killer. The ruthless butcher responsible for the deaths of multiple magi and others, the so-called ambassador of Hell, whom even the Magus Association's enforcers feared to oppose, is not the man who adopted and raised him." Makihisa repeated. "The difference is clear, and it's evident that whatever happened in that Ritual changed you for the better."

"..." Kiritsugu seemed speechless, not really knowing how to respond. It wasn't that it wasn't true, it was just that he never imagined this man would say something like that to help him.

"...I appreciate it."

"I won't invalidate my gesture by saying it was nothing." Makihisa replied. "But that doesn't take away from the fact that I sympathize with the situation, and I'm willing to lend you a hand, but not for free. The price is more than obvious."

Kiritsugu nodded, having expected this and would have rejected it again had the tycoon not been finished.

"I don't know what you have planned for Shirou-kun. And honestly, it's none of my business. I shared my experience with you out of pure reflex, hoping you might learn something from it, but I won't tell you what to do." Makihisa removed his glasses, exposing his gray eyes.

"But I'm sure of one thing. No matter what you think, you won't be able to keep him safe on your own, especially when you're gone because of what's consuming your life." He didn't smile triumphantly, nor did he make any other gesture but to clasp his hands behind his back again. "I just hope your conscience allows you to overcome that."

If Makihisa had fired a gun, the last sentence would have been comparable to a high-caliber bullet, piercing Kiritsugu's heart with enviable precision.

It had been accurate, direct, and strong enough to knock down Kiritsugu's house of cards, built on his convictions about how to deal with the situation. Many of those ideas had been far-fetched, and more than one had made him tremble with the obvious desperation that had struck him.

Perhaps the worst part was that no hypnosis or mental interference had taken place in that exchange. It had all been the sincere opinion of Makihisa Tohno, a true monster who, for a few moments, showed a paternal instinct superior to Kiritsugu's.

Ironic. Very ironic.

Kiritsugu wasn't blind. He knew exactly what awaited him, and most likely, what would happen to his son after all this, once he was gone.

After all, the road to hell is paved with good intentions…

He thought of Sougen's words. Then Makihisa's. And finally, Shirou's.

Kiritsugu closed his eyes and sighed. After a long history of bad decisions, one more would probably be added to the list.

"Alright, Tohno." He spoke, opening his eyes so he could face the tycoon. "I'll take your commission, but under several conditions."

Makihisa smiled for the umpteenth time. "Of course, I'm all ears."

Being the eldest sister, Kohaku was more than used to setting an example for Hisui. She had been since before they were taken in by the Tohno, and it had continued throughout their training as maids of the house. While both of them had received the same instruction from other servants with more experience, it was clear who was truly in charge.

Hisui was a very good and obedient girl, even at her young age. But that didn't mean she never did something silly now and then, and Kohaku had to scold her for it.

How ironic that now it seemed as though Kohaku was experiencing that position herself.

Her sister had dragged her out of the kitchen to respect the privacy of Shirou and Sougen, who, judging by the voices from a distance, were still arguing. Honestly, she didn't want to have this conversation right now, but she had learned long ago that she could almost never have things her way.

"Are you sure you're okay, nee-san?" Hisui asked, her jade-colored eyes showing the familiar sisterly concern.

That concern made Kohaku sigh, before a slight, conciliatory smile appeared on her lips. Kohaku's stoicism was something well known in the Tohno Mansion, but the marked exception was always with her younger sister.

"I'm fine, little sister," Kohaku reassured her. "I should ask you the same thing. I left you alone with Makihisa-sama and the visitors."

However, Hisui shook her head. "I wasn't there for long, but I could tell the atmosphere was tense," she said, lightly biting her lower lip before continuing. "Shirou-san's father is a little scary. It almost reminded me of when Makihisa-sama would come home furious about something at work."

Kohaku raised an eyebrow at that. She already didn't have the best impression of Shirou's unusual red-haired father, thanks to what he'd said. But from what her sister described, she was sure that mental image would only degrade further, to the point where she questioned whether it was truly necessary for Shirou to return under the care of such a person.

"...And they left him in the same room as the gentleman?" Kohaku asked incredulously. From what was described, the two men could very well have been fighting each other at that very moment while the four of them were on the lower floor.

Hisui seemed to have the same idea, judging by the chill she felt.

"They both agreed," she revealed, playing with her fingers. "And they wanted Jinan-sama to check on Shirou-san." She pointed toward the kitchen door as she said this.

Kohaku glanced at the door and internally grimaced. It hadn't even been ten minutes since she left, and she already missed the presence of the redhead with whom she'd shared a few moments she never thought she'd have with anyone other than her sister or her late mother.

And something must have shown on her face.

"I'm glad you met him."

Kohaku turned toward her sister, who had replaced the troubled expression on her face with one that reflected a joy she didn't remember ever having seen before.

"Rather than an accident, I'd say it was good luck." Hisui continued, clasping her hands together. "I can see you two get along really well, even if you've just met."

Kohaku nodded, though uncertainly, not saying anything. Well, it was true. They hadn't been the most talkative children, but they had quickly bonded and unintentionally become partners in whatever misadventure had been that day.

Beyond simply helping each other with actions, something else had emerged between them. Something Kohaku didn't fully understand, but couldn't deny that she liked.

"Those days when I didn't have much work and would play with the young masters, I always wanted you to join us." Hisui confessed, pulling Kohaku from her thoughts. The older sister suppressed a shiver at the mention.

Since that incident, the sisters had avoided speaking about those days as much as possible. The fact that Hisui, who had been closest to the trio of children of the master of the house, was breaking that silence, meant she was making an exception.

"Ever since Mom left, you've become different," the green-eyed girl continued, her voice tinged with sadness. "I thought that if you played with us, you could go back to the way you were, but you didn't want to. And that made me feel bad."

Kohaku closed her eyes, lowering her head slightly. The things she had to do hurt in more ways than one, but as long as her little sister didn't have to suffer for them... That line of thought was interrupted when she felt her sister's arms wrap around her in a hug.

"...?"

She looked up to find her sister's tearful face.

"I thought I'd never hear your laugh again."

Kohaku felt a slight burning in her eyes and, not long after, something wet running down her cheek.

"... Little sister," she managed to say, before Hisui spoke again.

"I'm so glad you made a friend," she finished, burying her face in Kohaku's chest.

That made the amber-eyed girl freeze in the middle of the hug, while her mind tried to understand those words. All she had known until now was the feeling of her mother, who had left much too soon, her sister whom she was now holding, the monstrous touch of that man...

Before, she had encountered a gaze that seemed to see her beyond the window from which she watched the outside world, so close yet so distant to her.

That connection had gone no further. It hadn't even truly started. And in a burst of inspiration, she had given her favorite ribbon to that boy, promising him that he would return for it someday.

That wasn't the case with Shirou.

They had talked, helped each other, and even comforted one another, sharing things they hadn't with anyone else.

'Friend, huh?' Kohaku thought, before finally returning her sister's hug. 'I like the sound of that.'

"Are you willing to accept a contract with an Auto-Geis scroll?" Kiritsugu asked, determined to test the extent of Makihisa's desperation. Judging by the grimace that replaced his smile, the man was far from pleased with the proposal—and for good reason.

The practice of placing a Geis involved forming a curse that imposed a mystical restriction upon the target, with both parties' consent. A form of thaumaturgy originating from the Celts in ancient times, it had become one of the most widespread magical contracts long before the Clock Tower rose to prominence.

The incantation's verses traveled through the nerves, embedding themselves into both body and mind, binding the spell in what was often described as a "second heart," positioned right beside the original.

An even more ruthless variation was the Scroll of Auto-Geis—a written contract on vellum, appearing as nothing more than meaningless figures and intricate patterns to those without magical knowledge. This curse could even bind the target's Magic Crest. The declarer's signature, inscribed in blood and infused with Magical Energy, solidified the contract, listing the target's magic, their oath, and the contract's conditions. Once those conditions were met, the target would forfeit a portion of their free will, and the contract would become an unbreakable curse. It forcibly turned the target's own magical circuits against them, a binding that—at least in theory—could not be undone. Even if the caster perished, the Geis would tether the victim's soul to their own corpse.

It was a cruel craft, forged for the treacherous world of Magi, where contracts required absolute, inescapable enforcement.

That same merciless method was what he had once used to eliminate the Lancer-class Servant of the Fourth Grail War—along with his Master.

For someone as proud as Makihisa, the idea was degrading—but his pragmatic side couldn't deny its usefulness. Not only would it cement their terms in absolute clarity, but it would also ensure that neither of them could betray the deal.

Honor was a rarity in their world; even the most perfumed nobles rarely followed their codes to the letter.

It was better not to take any risks.

"Since it's the only way to fully convince you, I'll accept it—but not yet," Makihisa replied, settling back into his chair. "I'd rather discuss the terms first and write them down, so everything is clear when we seal the contract."

It was reasonable, so Kiritsugu nodded.

"Then tell me exactly what you need from me."

"It's quite simple," Makihisa said, tapping the desk surface as his eyes narrowed. "I want you to investigate the whereabouts of my stolen property and identify whoever has it now. If possible, retrieve it for me. As an additional request, I'd like the head of the thief on a pike, but I assume you'd object to that."

"I'm surprised you didn't make that a requirement," Kiritsugu remarked. "It's unlike you to be so… generous."

"Spare me," Makihisa scoffed, absently picking up a pencil and twirling it between his fingers. "The only reason I don't insist is because I want the satisfaction of tearing it from their neck myself."

As if to emphasize his point, the pencil snapped in half under his grip.

"That, and I highly doubt you'd manage to bring them to me alive. It was never your specialty—nor was it Kaminski-san's."

Kiritsugu let the comment slide. "Understood. I assume you'll provide me with all the information you have?"

"Of course," Makihisa confirmed. "However, that's the extent of my assistance. I want this arrangement to remain secret, and I won't risk compromising it by using my own resources."

"You suspect a spy?" Kiritsugu asked cautiously.

"I'd be surprised if there weren't one—or several," Makihisa said with full confidence. "Beyond business rivals, I wouldn't rule out someone connected to our mysterious adversary. That's why I want our contact to be direct. No unnecessary requests, no attracting attention. You understand, don't you?"

Kiritsugu considered the conditions. Conducting a covert investigation was nothing new to him, but he was certain it would lead to conflict—a fight he wasn't sure he could win in his current state.

He voiced his concerns, and Makihisa's lips curled into a knowing smile. "Don't worry about not having enough strength to handle the culprit. Let's just say… I have something at my disposal that could crush even the strongest of magi."

"And why aren't you using it to solve this problem yourself?" Kiritsugu asked skeptically.

Makihisa sighed. "Because you don't send a monster to investigate. Especially when it's the 'kill first, ask questions later' kind."

He deliberately omitted the part where "killing" meant crushing skulls and ripping bodies apart.

"I see," Kiritsugu said, already forming an idea of what Makihisa was referring to. "And that won't pose a problem for you?"

"Not at all," Makihisa assured him. "Even if the spy is from my extended family, they have no way of knowing I can summon him. Believe me, I've tested it."

Kiritsugu didn't care to ask for details. "Very well. Now for my conditions."

Makihisa leaned forward, clasping his hands. "Name them."

"First—since you claim to have a way to break my curse, I want you to do it."****" Kiritsugu's voice was firm. "I'll take this job, but only if you promise to devote serious effort to finding a cure."

Silence stretched between them. Makihisa's eyes widened slightly in surprise.

"I didn't expect that," he admitted. "I thought you had resigned yourself to your fate."

"I'm not finished," Kiritsugu cut in.

For a moment, he hesitated. It almost seemed like he wasn't sure how to phrase his next request. But when he finally spoke, Makihisa wasn't all that surprised.

"Regardless of what happens—whether you succeed in curing me or this mission goes horribly wrong—I want you to swear that you'll protect my son if I die."

That was it.

Kiritsugu kept his face neutral, but his mind whirled.

"A selection of poisons, huh…? And once again, I'm not just choosing for myself. I'm already a dead man walking—I'm choosing for Shirou's sake."

He exhaled slowly, staring out the window.

"But I have no other options. The only choice I don't regret is saving Shirou. Every other choice… Sabotaging his magic. Sacrificing Iri. Destroying the Grail… They all came with regret."

His hands clenched.

"Forgive me, Shirou. I have to choose for you. I shouldn't trust myself to make that choice, and yet… That's a choice too, isn't it? And like all my choices, it comes with regret."

Makihisa finally broke the silence. "I won't lie—I didn't see that coming. But I swear on the name of Tohno… I will honor your request until my dying breath."

Kiritsugu nodded, feeling some of his burden lift.

"Thank you."

"A deal is a deal," Makihisa replied. "But before we finalize things, there's one last thing."

He slid an envelope across the desk.

Kiritsugu's eyes fell on the single image inside. His breath hitched.

"Oh, shit."