"It's been a long time, Illya."
Kiritsugu Emiya crouched down, his gaze fixed on Illya, murmuring those words in a quiet voice as his eyes dropped slightly.
And in that same moment, he felt it — the bone-deep hatred radiating from her. So vivid. So unmistakable.
Kiritsugu let out a slow breath and turned his head toward Anthony. "Could I ask you a favor? Let her go."
"Are you sure?" Anthony looked at Kiritsugu with a trace of curiosity. "You don't need me to guarantee your safety here?"
Kiritsugu slowly shook his head. "I have to face it eventually, don't I?"
Sooner or later, he would have to confront the sins he had committed.
At this point, Illya seemed to have lost all interest in Shirou Emiya entirely. Her eyes were fixed, unblinking, on Kiritsugu. The moment the true object of her hatred had returned, the substitute she had been directing it toward naturally ceased to matter.
And so, just then, Shirou Emiya released all of his projections, turned around — and saw exactly that scene unfolding before him.
Anthony gently released every binding of soul force he had placed upon Illya.
Kiritsugu opened his mouth — but before he could get a single word out, he felt something hurl itself into his arms.
Unfortunately, it was not the tender embrace of a father and daughter reunited after years apart.
It was a blade, driving straight for his heart.
And along with it — freed at last from a long restraint — a voice, shrieking with hysterical fury:
"Kiritsugu Emiya!"
"Clang!"
Before Shirou Emiya could even begin to panic, Anthony raised a hand. A barrier woven from soul force condensed into solid form and deflected the blow.
Kiritsugu glanced back in silence, then gave Anthony a small nod of thanks.
Finally, he turned back to Illya and spoke again:
"I'm sorry. I wasn't able to come see you all these years."
Illya said nothing. She thrust the blade out again, only for it to stop naturally against the soul barrier.
If Heracles had not already been hacked down twice by Shirou and rendered unresponsive, what would be flying toward Kiritsugu's skull right now would have been those enormous fists.
Kiritsugu's words did nothing to quench Illya's fury — if anything, they only made her more frantic.
Again and again. Slash after slash. As though she meant to exhaust herself into submission. Kiritsugu said nothing more. He understood well enough that every word he spoke right now would only pour oil on the flames.
So what could he do? Did he really have any right to lose his temper with Illya, to lecture her?
And so he simply bore it in silence, waiting quietly — until the moment Illya's strength finally gave out.
Shirou Emiya watched from the side, seeming several times on the verge of stepping forward to intervene — only to be grabbed by Anthony, who had appeared at his side without him noticing.
He turned, on the verge of speaking, but saw Anthony shaking his head at him, an expression on his face that could only be described as exasperated disappointment.
"Watch and wait. Don't rush."
Anthony said evenly: "What's the hurry? It isn't your turn to step in yet."
"Trust that Kiritsugu can handle the situation as it stands. I'll let you know when you're needed."
If you charge in there right now, you'll tank Illya's affection score into the ground!
Run in now and you'll be starting from zero — or worse.
"Here, have a drink first."
And so Anthony reached out a hand. A faint shimmer of the phase-shift engine lit up in his palm, and from the Stygian Vessel he retrieved a glass of red wine. A leftover from Himmel's wedding.
"Come on, have some. Liquid courage — you'll be busy soon enough."
And with that, wearing a mysterious smile, Anthony said this to Shirou Emiya. Shirou said nothing more and drank the entire glass in silence.
Meanwhile, on the other side, the atmosphere between Illya and Kiritsugu Emiya showed not the slightest sign of thawing.
Illya showed no sign of tiring.
Kiritsugu waited again and again — but even as the barrier before him showed not even a flicker of weakening, Illya refused to give up.
She didn't say a single word.
"Illya."
At last, in the depths of his exhaustion, Kiritsugu quietly called her name. And then he saw Illya's head snap up.
Red eyes. White hair. For a fleeting instant, Kiritsugu felt himself transported back to some scene from long ago — as if a younger Illya were lifting her gaze to smile at him.
But there was no smile in this reality. Only the piercing cold of winter that was all she had left for him.
"I never in my wildest dreams imagined you'd still be alive."
At last, Illya spoke through gritted teeth. Kiritsugu lowered his eyes and said:
"No. I've already died once."
"Consumed by the black mud."
The revelation seemed too strange to absorb all at once — Illya froze for just a moment. And in that moment, Kiritsugu finally found a sliver of breathing room.
And so, seizing it, he pressed on:
"It was the Heroic Spirit you just saw who brought me back to life."
"Before that — after the last Holy Grail War ended — I destroyed the Grail. Because it had already been corrupted."
"The black mud within it infected me. I was left with almost no ability to act."
He laid it out swiftly, without ornamentation, stripping away every detail he could afford to omit — his only goal was to give Illya the reasons in the shortest time possible.
Illya paused, motionless, processing what she had heard. Then, after a long silence, she shook her head sharply:
"But — but even so, that doesn't mean you should have——"
"The Einzbern family had long since branded me a criminal over exactly this matter. I tried many times to come see you, but I was turned away at the gate each time."
Kiritsugu spoke with a calm that held no accusation: "I no longer had the ability to break through those doors. Until the moment of my resurrection, I was barely better than a living corpse."
Precisely because he was barely better than a living corpse — there had been no way to begin repaying the sins he had committed.
No matter how boundless his regret, what remained in the end was only a deep and helpless powerlessness.
And so, in that moment, Illya stood still in place — and Kiritsugu, slowly, began to tell the story of all that long stretch of time.
Now, finally, there was a fitting moment to explain everything.
He kept it as free from personal emotion as he could — not only to make his words sound more credible, but because it simply was not necessary. Not now.
At this point, what he wanted more than anything was for Illya to form her own judgment. Entirely her own.
And he would accept whatever verdict she reached.
And so he began — from the emptiness that followed the end of the Fourth War, all the way to the death that had come years later.
His failed attempts to visit Illya. The fire, and how he had pulled Shirou Emiya from it. All of it, every thread and undercurrent, Kiritsugu narrated slowly — as though he had seized a gap in time and was pouring it all out in one breath.
And Illya gradually fell silent.
Listening, passage by passage, to everything Kiritsugu recounted — growing quieter and quieter, sinking deeper and deeper into a kind of lost bewilderment.
Was this really the truth of it all?
This was the truth of everything?
"I've said everything I have to say."
And so, after tens of minutes — as if he had just completed a summary of half a lifetime — Kiritsugu spoke, quietly and without weight.
"There's nothing more. Illya, I've said all that I can."
And with that, he looked at her. His expression was so layered that the emotions within it were nearly impossible to read.
Illya bit her lower lip, whatever she was thinking completely unreadable — until at last, a long while later, a murmur slipped from her lips:
"No..."
As if she could not accept that this was the truth of it all. Or rather — it had come far too suddenly. So suddenly that she hadn't even had the chance to figure out how she was supposed to face Shirou Emiya and Kiritsugu.
If that was really how it was — then what was she supposed to do now?
For a moment, Illya looked up, her gaze moving between them both. Something rare filled her eyes: a kind of genuine, unguarded confusion.
Forgive Kiritsugu? Let go of what she felt toward Shirou?
But if she did — then what had all those years of thought and feeling amounted to?
And yet — did she have any real reason not to forgive him?
She didn't. And yet even now, even at this point, she refused to acknowledge it.
She took a step back. The sound of her heel meeting the ground rang out with startling clarity in the silent night.
Kiritsugu looked at her, opened his mouth — then stopped. And in the end, he said nothing at all.
He watched as Illya suddenly began shaking her head, frantically, over and over, all while continuing to back away.
And then, at last — from Illya's lips — two words came, final as an ultimatum:
"I can't!"
And in the next instant, Illya spun around and ran — bolting off into the darkness.
Anthony's gaze shifted to Kiritsugu, a question in his eyes — but Kiritsugu answered with a look that said: do as you like.
That he wouldn't be forgiven — Kiritsugu had long since prepared himself for that too.
"Being too much of a mess at the wrong time really doesn't do anyone any good, you know," Anthony said with a quiet sigh. "Indecisive when you need to be decisive, hesitant when you should just act — that's a very hard quality to like."
Kiritsugu gave a small shrug and looked at him. "What would you have done, in my position?"
"Hmm? Me?" Anthony narrowed his eyes and smiled. "I would have found a way to make sure none of this ever happened."
"The most textbook answer possible. What a shame."
Kiritsugu let out a rueful sigh. Anthony — who knew perfectly well what kind of person Kiritsugu was — didn't bother pressing the point further.
If anything, the fact that Kiritsugu had managed to say what needed to be said in the end was already an improvement.
More human than he'd been during the Fourth War, at least — wasn't it?
And so, in that moment, Anthony reached out and gave Shirou Emiya two firm claps on the shoulder, startling him out of his daze. Shirou looked up.
"What are you standing around for?" Anthony raised an eyebrow and said plainly: "It's your turn to step up."
"Huh? Wait — already?"
Shirou Emiya was still holding the wine glass Anthony had handed him, and in his momentary confusion he blinked: "Already?"
"What, were you expecting Kiritsugu to handle the rest too? His part is done."
Anthony shook his head and said without hesitation:
"From here on out, it's up to you."
"What am I supposed to do?"
"Whatever you want. Just do whatever feels right to you."
Anthony said simply: "Don't let your family down. That's all."
Don't let your family down.
Those final words echoed through Shirou Emiya's mind. His eyes dropped. And gradually, quietly, something began to take shape in his chest.
And so he looked at Anthony and gave a solemn nod. "You're right."
Then, with barely a moment's hesitation, he turned and ran.
"She went that way — don't get lost!"
Anthony called after Shirou Emiya, watching him disappear to the edge of his sight. Then he walked over to Kiritsugu's side.
"Aren't you worried that Shirou might get ambushed by one of the other factions right now?"
Kiritsugu lifted his head and looked at Anthony, and then, somewhat out of nowhere, posed the question.
"No need to worry about that right now."
Anthony gave a small wave of his hand, and an image materialized in the air — Shirou, sprinting through the dark of the night.
"You have to trust the Forgemaster sometimes, don't you?"
Then, within that smile, Kiritsugu caught a sudden flash of something crossing Anthony's face — an unmistakable glint of excitement.
"Besides — aren't you curious what kind of sparks your adopted son and your daughter are going to strike off each other?"
In that instant, an unpleasant premonition rose in Kiritsugu Emiya's chest.
"That scene wasn't in the plot summary you gave me."
"Ah, no, it wasn't."
Anthony inclined his head readily and replied: "But that's not a question you should be asking me. You should ask Kinoko."
Kiritsugu had no idea who Kinoko was.
But in that moment, he felt one thing with vivid, unmistakable clarity.
Something was wrong. Something was about to go very wrong.
——
Ah — where was she supposed to go?
For the first time in a long while, in this city, Illya felt something unfamiliar: confusion.
A kind of confusion — not knowing which direction to go from here.
Strictly speaking, now that her Servant had been defeated, she was as good as eliminated. In the ideal scenario, she should be seeking shelter at the church.
That was what a player who had lost was supposed to do.
But right now, Illya had no particular desire to go to the church.
She didn't know why. There was no special reason. She simply didn't want to — nothing more.
But if not there, then where?
She stopped in her tracks, struck by a sudden, overwhelming sense of not knowing what to do with herself. Like someone who had lost every anchor — and yet couldn't bring herself to want to return to Kiritsugu's side. Not even a little.
It was only now, having run, that Illya realized — she didn't actually feel as much revulsion toward Kiritsugu Emiya as she had imagined she would.
And yet she couldn't seem to summon any real warmth, either.
Something like relief. She could understand. She could accept. She could forgive. But the very last piece — that final drive to act on it — was simply missing.
At last, in the grip of that powerful restlessness, Illya crouched down and fell into a long, wordless silence.
Until, from somewhere behind her, she heard a voice calling her name:
"Illya!"
She turned — and stared in surprise at the one who had caught up to her.
He was slightly out of breath from running. Nothing at all like the red-haired high school student who had just carved through ten of Heracles' lives with a single blade.
"Shirou Emiya?"
She called his name directly, confused. Shirou Emiya walked up to her, glancing around at the surrounding area.
Then his expression shifted into something a little strange:
"Are you waiting for someone?"
"Illya is not waiting for anyone!"
Illya's expression snapped into composure. She said it straight out. Shirou Emiya scratched the back of his head and gave a small laugh.
Then, without warning, he sat down — and while Illya was still blinking in surprise, settled himself right beside her.
Neither of them spoke. Illya seemed to have no desire to talk. And Shirou Emiya, his initial impulse cooling, realized that he didn't really have anything to say either.
Until, at long last, Shirou Emiya steeled himself and spoke:
"I came alone. Neither of them followed."
"Oh. I know. Is that all you came to say?"
Illya rested her chin on her knees, curling into herself, murmuring the words.
"Ah — no."
Shirou Emiya said, a little awkwardly: "I just thought — if I said that, maybe you'd feel a little better."
The unease inside her grew sharper.
Listening to Shirou Emiya's words, Illya felt that feeling becoming more and more distinct within herself.
She kept her eyes down, not letting on what she was thinking.
"So then — why did you actually come?"
Illya asked softly. And to that one question alone, Shirou Emiya had no hesitation whatsoever — his answer came almost in the same instant:
"I just didn't want to see you like that."
He looked at her, and said with complete seriousness: "When you left, I felt that way."
"I don't know what I can do — but I don't really like watching anyone suffer. Including you. Especially you."
"So my head got ahead of me and I followed. Even though now that I'm here I still don't know what to do."
As he said that, Shirou looked away, his expression shifting back into something awkward.
But Illya found herself frozen — and then, softly, she murmured:
"Why?"
"Hm, is that a question about my reason?"
Shirou Emiya blinked, then answered immediately: "Because I want to be a champion of justice!"
So naturally. So matter-of-factly. But Illya frowned: "Nobody asked you that. Illya was asking about the other part."
For a moment Shirou's expression faltered — but then he gave the answer that came from somewhere beneath thought:
"Because you're my sister."
Nothing more was needed. That single sentence was enough.
From the moment Anthony had told Shirou Emiya this — with that particular gleam of mischief in his eye — Shirou had been surprised, yes, but he had quietly filed those words away in his heart from then on.
And in that instant, Illya's expression shifted — just slightly. She turned her head and looked back at him.
For a long moment she simply stared at Shirou Emiya, unable to find anything to say.
"We're not related by blood, are we?"
And yet, suddenly, those words slipped out — only to receive Shirou Emiya's answer:
"Even so, you're still family."
Shirou Emiya said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "What does that matter?"
Then Shirou Emiya stood up. And to Illya, it felt as though a figure of pure, uncomplicated humanity had risen before her.
"Come on, Illya."
Shirou Emiya extended his hand and said: "If you're not waiting for anyone, why not come back with me?"
"Shirou Emiya — no, Big Brother — aren't you scared Illya might do something?"
Illya asked on instinct. Shirou Emiya glanced back at her casually and smiled.
"Nah. I don't mind."
"And if you don't want to see Kiritsugu, that's fine too. I'll be the one who bridges things between you."
After saying that, he took hold of Illya and walked a few steps — but Illya stopped again, all at once.
"Then — Big Brother absolutely can't disappear again, okay?"
Illya said it suddenly, and Shirou Emiya paused for just a moment.
But he failed to catch the meaning hiding beneath her words.
And so, naturally as breathing, he simply nodded.
"How could I ever disappear?"
Family, after all, was the kind of thing that could never come apart.
And then he felt Illya drawing closer.
But even having seen the way Kiritsugu had been stabbed earlier, Shirou Emiya showed not a trace of wariness — he simply stood there, open and unguarded, facing whatever was coming.
"Then it's a promise, Big Brother."
Illya said, her voice quiet and unhurried. And still Shirou Emiya did not hesitate.
And so — he nodded.
"Then Big Brother is Illya's only family."
The words were heavy, but they were spoken as easily as anything, without a hint of wavering.
At last, somewhere inside, Shirou Emiya quietly exhaled.
See? That wasn't so hard, was it.
And so he led Illya back the way they'd come.
Until at the very end, he caught Illya's voice drifting from behind him, already almost too faint to make out:
"Big Brother is the best."
And so — what was the sentence left unspoken?
The one that rose in her heart all on its own, voicing a feeling that needed no words.
I love Big Brother the most.
"Well, well — not bad at all when it comes to managing the family dynamics, is he?"
On the other side, Anthony — who had been watching the whole thing live — let out a low whistle and turned to Kiritsugu with a grin.
As for Kiritsugu Emiya — his expression could only be described as a full palette of emotions at war.
On one hand, there was a warm relief that Shirou had handled things so well. On the other, a quiet release that the matter of Illya had at last been resolved.
But beyond all of that, what remained was the specific, deep confusion and despair of a father.
He watched the live feed — watched Shirou and Illya leaning against each other — and sank into a silence so profound it had weight.
In that silence, it was as though a deafening question was ringing out.
Could someone please tell him — what direction was this even going?
How was it that he had barely looked away for a moment, and already his adopted son and his biological daughter seemed to be — heading somewhere they very much should not be heading?
Was this okay? This did not seem okay.
Yes, they weren't blood related — strictly speaking there was no biological bond — but there was still a familial bond!
And yet Kiritsugu Emiya didn't know what he could even say.
If it came to Shirou — Kiritsugu was absolutely certain, deep in his bones, that the boy had no such intentions. His feelings were genuinely, completely pure.
The one who might have slightly impure intentions was Illya. But the problem was — he was hardly in a position to say anything to Illya about it.
There was no space to say anything at all.
He turned his head toward Anthony — opened his mouth — and then stopped. And at that moment, Anthony turned his head, and a smile spread across his face.
"Ah, look at that — they're coming back."
He said to Kiritsugu, and then reached out and waved vigorously at Shirou and Illya, calling out to them.
And so Kiritsugu reluctantly swallowed back everything he'd been about to say.
"Everything go smoothly?"
Anthony said with a smile. Shirou Emiya gave a solemn nod, and Anthony waved a hand at him.
"Get ready to keep going. There'll probably be more fighting tomorrow."
"Tonight was a bit rushed — get some preparation in before morning."
"Got it."
Shirou Emiya nodded. And so the four of them set off together toward the Emiya residence. Along the way, Kiritsugu several times seemed on the verge of saying something to Shirou — but each time, he let it go.
Then he turned — and discovered that at some point, Anthony had started talking to Illya.
"Do you have any plans going forward?"
Anthony asked Illya in a casual tone. Illya's eyes flickered for a moment, and then she spoke quietly:
"How should I address you?"
"Prometh works, or uncle — whatever you like. Shirou calls me that too."
Anthony smiled and said: "But to get back to the earlier question — if you don't have a clear plan in mind, would you want to consider coming over to my side?"
"Your side?"
"Yes. Come with me."
Anthony gave a generous nod and said: "Strictly speaking, I don't belong here. I come from somewhere else entirely — somewhere that falls beyond the jurisdiction of anyone in this world."
"If you've lost your attachment to certain places — what does it matter where you stay? As long as the people you care about are somewhere nearby, that should be enough, shouldn't it?"
Anthony said it placidly, his tone carrying the easy pull of someone who knew exactly how to lead a listener along. "And besides — without others getting in the way, things would be a lot more convenient for you, wouldn't they?"
"But Big Brother——"
"Ah, I'll work on convincing Shirou's side."
Anthony nodded and said easily — and in that moment, something shifted in Illya's eyes. Something that looked rather like temptation.
Which left Kiritsugu Emiya standing there, looking distinctly windswept.
Kiritsugu Emiya: ?
[Champion of Justice has entered the stream.]
[Champion of Justice: Wait, what's going on?]
[Champion of Justice: I zoned out for a second — why does it look like someone's trying to kidnap my daughter?]
[AAA City Ghost: Ah, don't worry, this is normal. It's just what he does.]
[AAA City Ghost: My daughter's already been lured on board. A certain corporate shark still hasn't responded to that, for the record.]
[Champion of Justice: ?]
[Let Night City Burn: Another new arrival on the Stygian Vessel? That's great news.]
[Let Night City Burn: Me and Lucy are already struggling to keep up. With things moving into the underworld phase, the workload's only going to get heavier.]
[Let Night City Burn: Welcome, welcome.]
[AAA City Ghost: @Master of the White Throne, you corporate shark, someone's talking to you — say something!]
[Master of the White Throne: She hasn't boarded yet, has she? I'm just saying.]
[Master of the White Throne: That said — honestly, I think it's actually fine?]
[Master of the White Throne: Think about it — once the Fifth War is over and the Grail is destroyed, what reason do you have to stay here?]
[Master of the White Throne: There's a phase-shift engine. Round trip takes two or three seconds. Think of it as commuting to work — I don't see the problem.]
[Master of the White Throne: @Champion of Justice honestly, you might as well come aboard too while you're at it. Not like you've got anything better to do.]
[Champion of Justice: When you put it that way, I suppose you have a point — but what about the thing with Shirou and Illya?]
[Master of the White Throne: Ah, that'll sort itself out.]
He closed the stream. Kiritsugu Emiya felt a deep, suffocating sense of helplessness settle over his heart.
Especially watching Anthony, who had by now already started describing grand future prospects to Shirou and Illya — the feeling of helplessness intensified.
Though, after thinking it through carefully, Kiritsugu had to admit that Anthony's proposal was genuinely attractive.
Once the Fifth War was resolved, Illya's situation went without saying. And Shirou would certainly continue walking his chosen path — but that didn't have to be an obstacle.
In Anthony's words, there would always be free time. The Stygian Vessel could be a second home. And on top of that, he'd be able to keep a close eye on Shirou's condition at all times, ready to equip and reinforce him as needed.
Even more importantly, Anthony had described to Shirou the injustices that might exist across countless worlds in the future.
If anything, that part was the crux of it.
Whether you looked at it from the angle of self-interest or of repaying what you owed — the offer had enormous pull.
The only issue was that every time Kiritsugu imagined Illya following Shirou into a rather enclosed environment together...
Both of them were precious to him, in different ways. But when that particular image surfaced, Kiritsugu felt the light go out behind his eyes.
Unfortunately, after lengthy deliberation, he still couldn't arrive at an answer — and in the end he had no choice but to put the question aside for now and keep moving.
And so, walking on and on, before he knew it, they had arrived back at the Emiya residence.
Illya walked naturally ahead through the entrance. Kiritsugu went off in a separate direction. And Anthony stopped both Kiritsugu and Shirou Emiya.
Once he had them both, Anthony came straight to the point:
"I didn't apply any kind of concealment tonight, so the situation going forward is going to be fairly turbulent."
Kiritsugu met Anthony's gaze and seemed to understand immediately what he meant.
"You mean — a lot of people may have noticed that battle just now?"
"Exactly. Some of the others might be able to hold themselves back — but there are those who absolutely cannot."
A mocking smile appeared on Anthony's face. And seeing that smile, the obvious name rose, as a matter of course, in Kiritsugu's mind.
Kotomine Kirei.
"That man still isn't dead. What a nuisance."
Kiritsugu sighed and murmured the words. Anthony gave a small shrug.
"Either way — before we call down the Grail, we need to deal with him first. Clear away the loose variables, and then we can breathe easy."
Anthony's voice was unhurried, and he continued:
"The things we need to personally handle aren't many. Cu Chulainn — I'll take care of him when the time comes. Kotomine Kirei himself — that's yours to deal with. Should be no problem?"
Kiritsugu glanced at his origin-bullet Gatling, and shook his head without the slightest hesitation.
"As for the last one — the King of Heroes — I imagine there's no need to say much."
Finally, Anthony spoke plainly — and in the next moment, the two of them looked, together, at Shirou Emiya.
Which caused a distinct trace of bewilderment to appear in Shirou Emiya's eyes.
Hold on — me again?
Actually, wait — this time… is that actually fine?
Recalling the overwhelming power he had felt when he held Avalon in his hands and faced the glass window, Shirou Emiya found himself sinking into uncertainty.
Was it possible that he… could actually win?
____
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