Kiyohime was smiling, a beacon of hope in the dim street.

"You need to be more careful, Master," she chided, just as a good wife would.

"I couldn't just stand there and let Assassin hurt you," he replied. The warm amber gaze he fixed on her made her chest ache as the fire inside of her danced with happiness.

"You're supposed to let me take care of that," she protested, though her heart wasn't in it. Anchin-sama was relying on her. Though she was disappointed in herself for allowing him to be hurt in her place, she couldn't help but admire his bravery and his will.

"I can't let you," he said, his tone resolute. "Girls aren't supposed to fight."

She nearly swooned. He was the dashing man she had always wished for who would protect her no matter what, and now she had the chance to be his supporting pillar. Whether or not he was able to communicate that reliance to her wasn't important, for she knew it was there.

My dreams have never felt so close.

As they crossed the asphalt, he once again attempted to take his weight off of her and back onto his feet. Once again, he nearly stumbled before she caught him, continuing to maintain her gentle but firm hold.

"You don't have to carry me the whole time, you know..." he grumbled. In response, she tightened her grip on the arm she had placed around her neck to steady him.

"I want to, Anchin-sama," she replied happily. "I want to help you, and... you feel nice."

It was the truth. The rough cotton of his sleeve sliding against her neck sent shivers down her spine. She hoped he didn't feel her shake, she didn't want him to think of her as anything but a bastion for him, solid and reliable.

"Well..." he held out the word before sighing. "Okay. I won't stop you."

She nearly squealed but managed to hold it in. They were making such progress! Maybe soon he'd finally let her cook for him. Even if he cooked food fit to make the Buddha cry, it wasn't as if she didn't know anything... and maybe she could show him a thing or two! As his wife, she really ought to be able to welcome him home with a bath and his favorite meal... something she'd have to learn sometime soon.

They weren't far from home now, and she had to take care of him. His shoulder needed to be washed and bandaged, he needed to be fed (and bathed!), and she was going to be there for him every second she could.

This Kiyohime will never abandon you, Anchin-sama.

[A BODY OF BLADES]

Shirou sighed as he stepped through the doorway, a mumbled "I'm home" passing through his lips with a wince. The fracture in his thigh was not being kind to him, and even with his Servant's help and aid the wound in his shoulder had reopened.

As he heard light footsteps come down the hall, accompanied by the smell of miso soup, he took a deep breath and prepared for said Servant's reaction.

"Welcome home An—" Kiyohime stopped in her tracks as she spotted the tatters of his clothing, her expression coloring with shock. "What happened?!"

"Nothing—" He hissed as he leaned at the wrong angle and felt the crack in his femur grow ever so slightly. "Nothing, really. I just... got into a bit of a fight with Rider." He slowly made his way up from the entrance to sit on a nearby chest.

"What fight? Weren't you at school?" She shoved her tray to one side, some of the soup spilling out over the side. "You were supposed—you promised you would be safe!" A spark of flame lit in golden eyes, then softened. "Why didn't you use a command seal? Why didn't you call me?" she whispered plaintively.

"I didn't want to drag you into danger along with me just because I made a mistake," he said. "You don't deserve that."

She stared at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. The weight of her gaze felt uncomfortable as the silence stretched between them. Then she gave a fond sigh of exasperation.

"That's just like you, I suppose." Her gaze warmed as she smiled, before she sprang into action. "Okay, stay there! I'll get the bath running and get something you can use as a splint! Don't make it any worse!"

As she ran back down the hallway, he sighed.

It's bad... but it's not that bad, I think. There's no need to make this much of a fuss over a flesh wound.

Once she returned with some bandage tape and two shinai about the length of his leg, he said as much. As she taped them onto his leg to keep it straight, she huffed.

"Whether it is or isn't bad doesn't matter, Anchin-sama," she said, her golden eyes shimmering with concern and warmth. "I want to help you. I don't like seeing you hurt. Will you let me do this, if not for you, for my own satisfaction?"

He took a deep breath.

"Okay," he said. "I'll be fine come tomorrow, just so you know."

"Tomorrow isn't here yet," she said as she stood up, brushing dust off of the lower half of her kimono. "So for now, you have to let me help you."

He couldn't help but smile.

"If that's what you want, I won't stop you."

"Yes," she said as she took a hold of his arm and gently helped him up. "It very much is."

[WITH BLOOD OF IRON]

Shirou lay back as gently as he could, letting the bathwater cocoon him. As he predicted, the fracture had healed overnight, but with a new day came a new wound.

"Shirou-sama?" said a voice that he was not particularly keen on hearing right now. "Can I come in?"

"No," he stated firmly, glancing at the door to see her silhouette on the shoji.

"Please?" she asked again.

"My answer isn't going to change," he said with a frown. "You're not allowed in the bathroom while I'm using it."

"But it's the duty of—"

"No."

There was a sigh of crushed dreams, and the silhouette lowered, sitting down and leaning against what was likely the nearby cabinet. She pulled her legs to her chest and sat there, and after a few moments of silence Shirou turned forward again. He hadn't come just to bathe, but to heal, and though companionship was welcome, he was very experienced in letting silence knit his wounds.

"How are you feeling?" Kiyohime asked after the water had dimmed to lukewarm. He grunted as he shrugged, making the muscles in his back complain loudly.

"Well," he said after straightening out. "I'm feeling well enough, I think."

"How's your chest?" she continued. He absently fingered the new bruise on his abdomen, trying hard not to touch at his sternum. It was still healing from when Lancer had tried to shatter it to pieces with a single punch. When he tried to inhale deeply, it yelled at him for his foolishness, and so he kept his breaths short and shallow.

"...could be worse," he finally answered. "Why?"

"Don't ask me why," she chided. "I'm checking up on you. You know I support you and appreciate what you're trying to do, but I... I worry about you."

"Why?"

His guardian's hazel eyes darkened as she splashed a cotton ball with disinfectant and not-too-lightly dabbed it on his skin. He hissed at the stinging pain.

"Because, you idiot," Taiga said, "I care about you."

"Oh," he replied in the present, with the same tone he had in his memories. He wasn't sure how else to respond, and his Servant didn't pounce on the silence.

"Okay," he said after a few moments. "I won't stop you."

Another silence descended.

"Thank you."

For some reason, her tone didn't feel as warm as it used to.

[A MIND OF STEEL]

She had never gotten many chances to practice kneeling in seiza, something she was regretting immensely right now. Her head was bowed the lowest it had ever gone; if she looked anywhere but the ground, she would see his blood. She knew where his body was, crumpled and nearly destroyed, by the sound of the much-too-occasional wheeze that ruptured the night.

"Please..." she begged. "Take the grail, I don't care anymore. Just save him. I can't bear to see him near death again."

Though her voice shook, it was firm in intent. Even as her heart beat so quickly and loudly, an erratic percussion banging against her inner ear, she knew that this was the only way she could save him.

"Hmph," came the curt reply from Archer's Master. Though they may have had an alliance, she was a magus in the end, and she would not give up this service for free. "Fine. But though he still holds his seals, you will be my Servant in practice, understood?"

Of course she understood. What other option did she have? Even the burning scarlet of devotion that covered her eyes fluctuated without purpose or direction. She scrambled and clawed for any possibility to save him. The fire in her wanted to lash out and burn everything. The frustration of never being able to protect him grew hotter and hotter, kept in check only by the cold realization that, no matter how much she tried to protect him, she couldn't truly change anything as long as he continued to actively put himself in harm's way. There was no rage that could keep Shirou Emiya alive against his will.

"Yes," she replied, choking back tears. "I understand. I'll work for you, I'll win this war for you, just please... please don't let him die."

And so she bent her knee to the woman named Tohsaka, the one person on their side with the power to heal him. She would suffer the absolute indignity of working alongside the Archer who did nothing but belittle her and her Master. A man whose very presence ground on her in its unrecognizable familiarity.

A man whose typically-insufferable gaze stared down at her with the smallest hint of pity, an unfathomable emotion coming from him of all people.

Kiyohime couldn't bring herself to look as Tohsaka moved to Shirou's side. Red light filled the area as Tohsaka upheld her end of the promise, but Kiyohime's relief was drowned out by the sickening claws of guilt, shame, and a nauseating feeling that churned her stomach that she refused to put a name to.

Archer took a slow step forward and kneeled closer to her prostrated form. She flinched as his hand lightly pressed on her shoulder.

"He isn't the kind of boy to realize that other people value him," he said quietly. "He's dragging you down with him. You don't deserve this."

"I don't need nor want your sympathy," she almost hissed as she met his gaze. "You have no right to judge him or what's between us."

"You'd be surprised," he muttered, and then walked back to his Master's side. She wished that her stomach wasn't sinking as his words settled in her mind. She wished that she hadn't listened to him at all.

Most of all... as she stared at her Master's pale face, she feared that he might be right.

[AND A HEART OF GLASS]

The door closed behind her, its crash making her wince. A violent sound at such a late hour was sure to wake Shirou up, betraying her entire purpose for going out in the first place. She paused for a moment, her ears keen to detect any reaction, and picked up the murmur of shuffling from the living room.

Please don't be awake...

After taking off her shoes, she quickly made her way down the hall. Her footsteps were soft against the tatami flooring, but she knew from experience that if he were there, he could hear her coming. As she reached the door to the living room, she inhaled.

Please, I beg you, don't—

There he was, hunched over the kitchen counter, gritting his teeth as he wrapped another bandage around his arm, which was already in a makeshift sling. She clenched her fists as she took a step inside, and his gaze flickered to her momentarily before looking back down at his new injury.

"Shirou," she said softly, her energy draining further as the fire receded to embers and sparks. "I'm home."

"Welcome home," he replied without looking at her again. "How's Tohsaka?"

"...safe." She stepped inside and approached the counter he was hunched over, waiting for him to look at her.

"That's good," he said politely. He tied off the bandage, a grimace striking his face as he tightened the knot. "I hope Archer treated you well."

The skin of a servant was infinitely tougher than that of a normal human, but her fingernails felt as though they were about to cut through and draw blood as her fists shook.

"Well enough," she said, forcing them open again as she leaned on the counter, bringing her eyes level with him. She inhaled deeply. "What happened?"

"I... bumped into the fake priest," he said after a few moments. "We got into a fight and he broke my arm, but eventually he ended up letting me go."

He went out again. He went out again and got himself hurt again.

"Why?" she asked quietly, gripping onto the countertop to steady herself. Her vision was swaying. "Why did you do it? Why did you go out again? You were supposed to be resting."

"I had to," he stated simply. "There were three more Servants out there, and I needed to make sure that they wouldn't hurt anyone else while you and Tohsaka were busy."

"But why?" she repeated. "Why did it have to be you?"

"No one else can do it but me." He finally looked her in the eye, and his gaze was resolute, but she could see the way he was looking past her.

"Why not?" she insisted. "Why can't you just let them fight each other?"

"They could involve other people," he said. "Innocent people. I can't sit around doing nothing anymore. If the previous war caused the Fire, I can't let that happen again."

"Okay, just... please... let me protect you," she begged, pinpricks in her eyes as she tried to hold the frustration back. "If you stay put and let Tohsaka and I win, then we can finish this war and nothing like that fire will ever happen again. If you want, I can even go out with you after my patrols with her. I just need you to wait for me. Please."

"Tohsaka's a proper magus. She can keep you safe, and I can't. There are other things I need to do, and..." He grimaced and shook his head. "I can't let you be hurt. You don't deserve to be hurt because of me."

Her hands smashed into the countertop so hard it splintered, and through the crimson that was beginning to tint her vision, she could see him take a step back, staring at her in shock.

"WHY?!" she screamed, hot tears leaving streaks on her cheeks. "Why do you think you're helping me by being hurt instead of me?! Why can't you understand that hurts me just as much, if not more?!"

She forced herself to meet his gaze again, and her insides twisted at how he looked at her as if he didn't understand what she was saying. As if this was the first time anyone had said something like this to him.

"What is wrong with you, Shirou?" she pleaded. "Why do you have to be the one who gets hurt? Why do you have to fight instead of me? Why do you have to fight at all?!"

"Because—"

"No!" she interrupted, taking long strides around the counter until she turned the corner to face him again. "The answer is you don't! You're a Master, I'm the Servant! I protect you, I fight for you! I completely threw away my dignity just so we can be happy together for the little time we have left! Why do you insist on hurting me like this?!"

She took another step closer to him and choked on the next words she tried to say. She wiped at her eyes.

"Don't you understand?" she asked, sniffling. "I gave away my pride, my own wish, my chance of a happy future with you... I gave away all that so you wouldn't have to go out anymore. You wouldn't have to come back injured, near-dead on your feet. And the second I turn my back..."

She threw her arms out at him.

"You come back like this! Again! Why do you insist on abusing my trust, over and over and over again? What is wrong with you?!"

The silence stretched for what felt like hours. She put her head in her hands, trying and failing to hold back her sobs. The fire was in agony, desperately wanting to be unleashed, but without an outlet it just seethed under her skin.

Even Anchin never hurt me like this...

For a while, he did nothing, and she leaned on the countertop again to prop herself up, still unable to face him as she cried. Then, with not even a breath, he stepped around her, and she looked up and watched as he silently sat down at the dinner table, kneeling and staring at the wall. She had always wished to be the one in the kitchen, having him wait like this for her to make him dinner. But now...

She took a shuddering breath, and then followed him and sat across the table from him. His cheeks were twitching.

"If..." he started, and then stopped. He put his hands on the table, and she noticed that they were trembling. "If Kiritsugu Emiya wasn't out in the rubble without a Servant, desperately searching for someone to save... I wouldn't be here. If I'm not the one who saves them..."

His hands clenched into fists.

"Would anyone know that there was someone to save at all?"

She desperately wished that she could just agree with him and believe those statements unconditionally. But the fire had coiled around her heart and tightened with every breath. He had hurt her too much to brush this aside.

"While you're searching for other people to save," she said quietly after a few moments, "I'm trying to save you."

"I've already been saved, though," he said, with the saddest smile she'd ever seen. "I have to pass that onto others."

She reached a hand across the table and gently took his.

"Just because you were saved once," she said slowly, refusing to let go of his gaze, "doesn't mean you can't be saved again. A hero can be saved, too."

After a few moments, he looked away, and she worried that she still hadn't gotten through to him. Then he sighed.

"If that's what you want..." he said quietly, "I won't stop you."

His hand gripped onto hers a little more tightly, and with it she breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn't over, but it was the first step.

She hoped she would be able to see him take the last.

Hello and welcome to new and old readers alike. If you've been reading The Saga of Shirou's Summons and have come here from there, then you know how it is we work around here. For the new people, though, just so we're clear: this is not a fully-fledged story with a complete and cohesive timeline. You are looking at one-shots connected to each other, and that is how I write. I will be updating this sporadically, whenever my muse decides that she wants to work on our favorite dragon priestess.

I know what I promised in the last chapter said that this was supposed to be a wholesome story. I apologize for having broken that promise. My muse was captured by a particular scene, the only good scene, from When Supernatural Battles Became Commonplace. If you look that up, you'll know when you find it. In every other regard it is a trashy harem romcom, but this one scene was the gem in the pile of garbage, and it was well worth it.

Thanks to my Loresingers for all of their help, in particular for this chapter. It was able to happen because they were excited by just a little bit of rambling from me and we ended up bouncing around ideas for three hours together until we came up with the framework for this chapter, and then when I continually got stuck on what to do, they helped fill in the gaps and made it much easier for this to come together. Seriously, my writing would be nothing without them, so I am very thankful to them.

Your ending theme is Shoes of Glass by Kanako Ito.

Thanks for reading.