Hey there people! How are you doing in this wonderful quarantine? (Read: sarcasm)

Well, hopefully, you aren't as bored as me. Because that would be just dreadful, let me tell you. Wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy...probably.

Anyhow, I've had this story in mind for a while, but hadn't really had the time or the motivation — mostly the later, honestly — to get around actually writing it. Guess being bored to death was all the incentive I needed, eh? Who would've thought.

Well, let's get on with it!

Disclaimer: I do not own Fate/Zero, Fate/stay night, or any of the other Fates out there. They belong to Type-Moon and Kinoko Nasu.

Also, I intend to include elements from other Fate fics that inspired me to write this one. I've already gotten the green light from the authors of the respective stories, and there will be a disclaimer on the author notes of the respective chapters said elements appear in giving the due credit to the original authors. That said, none of them will be making an appearance for quite some time yet.

Without further ado, enjoy!

'Thoughts'

"Speech"

*Noises/Sound effects*

[Act I] - Kiritsugu Interlude I

It was like time had slowed to a crawl. No matter where he looked, the cool colors of the monochrome corridors glared right back as if mocking him. Hurried footsteps would echo their way through the intersections of the hall where he was told to wait and he absolutely refused to acknowledge the ticking of the clock above his seat — at this point, only ingrained paranoia stopped him from pacing around the narrow space and diverting his attention from the red light above pristine double doors.

Let it be known that dealing with this level of anxiety was not one of Emiya Kiritsugu's strong points. Feelings, in general, are outside his area of expertise.

Perhaps some of that might be attributed to the admittedly haphazard state his brain has landed itself right now. After all, little more than an hour ago, he was as far from being mentally sound as he's probably ever been in his sorry excuse of a life.

To begin with, he wasn't supposed to be in the hospital; he wasn't even supposed to still be in Japan for that matter. He should have been at the airport, or better yet, already in and out of Germany — with Illya, with his daughter-

-before it is too late.

There is little doubt that the Einzbern will hear about the conclusion of the war — about his failure-nay, his betrayal — soon enough if they haven't already. And when that happens...Acht won't be pleased. Even if he got a chance to explain himself about the Tainted Cup and the man bought it, Kiritsugu doubted it would make a difference to the man. Monkey's Paw or not, so long as the [Heaven's Feel] can be recovered, the means by which it is done are irrelevant to the Patriarch — not that he'd get the chance anyway. Worse yet, now that the Grail is no more, once that tidbit of information reaches Acht's ears, Illya's fate is uncertain.

He has to get her out before that happens.

So he really shouldn't be here.

It's just-

-he needed to know.

So, dealing with feelings was never his strong suit. But, mostly, he's not really used to it. Not since he-

Silver-gray hair and a minute knowing smile flashed through his mind before the world exploded and the sky was painted bright orange.

Not since-

"Six billion people..." Eyes shadowed, his teeth grit together with such strength that his jaw trembled in exertion. "...against two members of my family..."

He subconsciously squeezed his fists, almost to the point of drawing blood, as though the pain could stop the memories from flooding his mind.

"Curse you..." She rasped. "...I curse you, Emiya Kiritsugu...!" Hateful eyes glared straight into his soul, the ever-familiar rubies shaking frantically from the lack of oxygen. "...Suffer...to your last...breath...!"

*Crack*

Before he knew it he was on his feet and trying to bury a fist through the wall.

"Haaah...haah...haah...haah-"

"-Sir..."

"-haah...haah...!"

"Sir!" Kiritsugu jolted hard as a hand landed on his shoulder and barely stopped himself from reaching for a gun that wasn't there. He took one deep breath.

"...Yes?" He turned around to the sight of a white coat and a face mask.

"...You may see the patient now." The doctor didn't comment on his behavior, but the stiff sideways glance sent at him as he hastily retreated told him the man wasn't impressed.

Eyes clouded and breath shaking, The Magus Killer stiffly matched the doctor's quick strides towards the now open doors.

'Please-'

He was never one to believe in God or anything of the sort...

'-please...'

But-

'Even if...even if it's only a single person...'

-right at that moment-

'LET ME SAVE SOMEONE!'

-he would've prayed to any god willing to listen.

"The child will be fine." Those were the doctor's only words for him before he nodded to the nurse at the bedside in an unspoken conversation and proceeded to leave the room and dump him on the poor woman.

With the thin blanket to their neck and a breathing mask covering most of their lower face, the only visible parts of the child were a bandaged arm — wired to an IV fluid bag at the bedside — and a head of neck-length lackluster crimson hair that has certainly seen better days.

For a moment, Kiritsugu only stood there, eyes frantically searching for any sign of life from the body lying in the bed — completely disregarding both the doctor's words and rhythmic beeping of the machines — till they settled on the weak, but steady rise and fall of the child's chest.

A long shaky breath he hadn't known he was holding left his mouth and the nurse took it as her cue.

"She is fine for the time being. The burn wounds on her limbs were surprisingly mild considering the scale of the catastrophe, but they have all been treated and, with enough time, should leave no lasting marks." For a moment, his mind latched onto the fact that, apparently, the child is a girl — he hadn't noticed when he found hi-her; even now at second glance, the child is just so androgynous in his eyes that, even with the longish hair, he would've never been able to tell — before swiftly discarding it as unimportant. The nurse took a quick look at him to see if he followed so far and after he nodded she proceeded to flip a page on the clipboard.

"The procedure itself went smoothly, for the most part, and in spite of a...minor oddity...during the unclogging of the airways, she should be able to make a full recovery — although she might have some trouble speaking out loud for the next year or so."

He frowned minutely in her direction.

'Oddity...?'

"What oddity?" Although he hummed along with her report, Kiritsugu's mind came to a halt the moment the word came out of the woman's mouth. He just had to know.

(After all, he saved her...)

As soon as he spotted the tiny hand raised among the rubble, he ran faster than his haggard body had any right to, leaving all despair behind together with the corpse he'd been cradling. He ran even faster when the arm visibly trembled in exertion and started buckling under its own weight.

(...didn't he?)

Golden motes of light died down as [The Everdistant Utopia] settled in the child's body through their weakly heaving chest. Implanting a Noble Phantasm on a random person — a child at that — was not a very smart idea, but he doesn't think he'll make it to a hospital otherwise. He is grasping at straws as it is, he can only hope it wi-

"-Gah!" Kiritsugu's eyes widened as a choking noise escaped the child. He watched in trepidation as the body in his arms twitched, chest falling-

-it didn't rise again.

Kiritsugu doesn't know how long he just stayed there, motionlessly, but everything kind of blurs together after he broke into a run towards the loud sirens of the ambulance.

He just had to. Needed to know.

"Oh, nothing worrying, rest assured. The ashes and the other residues she inhaled during the fire were just strangely coagulated, but aside from taking a little more time to remove them, it did not affect the procedure at all." The nurse said. "She should recover consciousness within the next couple days, at the latest."

...

"...I see."

So...he saved someone...right?

Personally, Kiritsugu doesn't think he can fully believe it until he sees the girl fully awake and alive with his own two eyes. On the other hand...

He remembers Ilya. Remembers how she'd look at him as though he was the best person in the world. Remembers how happy he'd been in these last few years. Remembers how he promised to come back for her.

(A dimly-lit pool-like room comes to mind — except-)

(-it was filled with corpses. All of them identical to each other, with a head of woven snow and red gems for eyes.)

And he remembers the fate of the homunculi that outlived their uses.

...'a couple days' is a couple days too long of a wait.

*Beep...Beep...*

Inhale.

.

.

.

*Beep...*

Exhale.

Without further ado, Kiritstugu spun around and made a beeline for the door.

"S-Sir?" He turned the doorknob. "W-Wait, sir! You have to fill the rest of the paperwo-"

"-If anything of importance happens." He interrupted her, opening the door. He didn't look back. "You have my number. Keep me updated." With that, he took a step forward.

"B-but-!" The nurse tried again.

"I have a flight to catch."

*Click*

As his steps echoed along the desert white corridors, Kiritsugu brought a phone to his ear.

Riiing...Riiing...Riii-*

"Raiga."

"...Kiritsugu." Came the answer. A pause, and then. "The fuck's wrong with you? Do you have any idea of what time is i-!"

"I need you to book me a flight to Germany — for yesterday." He cut the old man off.

"...What did you get yourself into now, boy?" Something in his tone must've given him away, but Kiritsugu doesn't have the time to make up a believable excuse.

"Can you do it or not?" He dodged the question.

"...Tsk. You owe me big time, brat." The grouchy response almost got a smile out of him. Almost.

A sigh of relief left his mouth. "Thank you."

"You won't be saying that when I take that Walther off your hands." A scoff was his only response — the old man's been pinning after his rifle for months now.

"Now leave me to my sleep, brat! Don't you have an airport to run to or something?!" Without waiting for a response, the line was cut on his face.

"...*sigh*..." He turned to one of the hall's windows, the light of the full moon shadowing half of his face, and closed his eyes.

Papa! Papa! Look!

'Illya...'

When they snapped open a second later, there was no light left in those bottomless coal pits.

'...Papa is coming for you.'

The Magus Killer has one last mission before his retirement.

A/N:

Word Count: 1,670

Next chapter will be out soon! Reviews are greatly appreciated, no matter how brief!

P.S.- Grammar errors have been fixed. If you find any more errors please inform me so I can fix it.