Disclaimer: I do not own Fate/ stay night and Fire Emblem: Awakening. It's that simple.

Kintsugi no Fusei

Book 1: On Fields of Fate

Chapter 1: They, who are broken

In a void darker than a starless night, hot tears fell freely from the purple eyes of a young white-haired woman. Her despair palpable and unending, she clutched her legs close to her as she remained in a fetal position.

This act covered the gruesome hole in her chest, right above where her heart was. What was truly horrifying about this wound was that it was literally burning. Divine flames that burned a calm azure clashed against the tainted flames that burned a malevolent purple inside, an occasional flicker then revealed that this wound went through her back as well.

One might ask themselves, "Who could or would do such a horrible thing to her?"

One must understand who she was, a woman named Robin. That this was her tale to tell, and hers alone.

Why didn't they (he) trust me? Why couldn't they (he) trust me? Why did they (he) do this to me? Robin's thoughts echoed as hiccups left her mouth as her face continued to be stained by the tears that flowed. Despite this line of thinking however, part of her found that it was not too surprising. In fact, she could say it was an outcome that she should have expected, even if it was painful.

It was all because she had been bred to become the perfect vessel of an ancient and fearsome creature. She was Robin Daraen, the Heart of the Fell Dragon Grima. And as the heart, she had been impaled by the exalted sword, Falchion, in an attempt to end the threat of ruin that Grima would bring about in the future.

She knew of that, understood it even. It was the entire reason why the children of the Shepherds went back through time, to prevent what had happened in their future.

And yet, grief still consumed her thoughts as she remembered all the bonds that had been severed by actions she had no control over and the accusations that came afterwards.

"Filthy Plegian!"

"I knew there was a reason not to trust you!"

"Monster!"

"Our parents died because of you!"

"Murderer!"

"Because of you, the Fire Emblem was stolen!"

"Die Fellblood!"

"You are not my mother! You killed Chrom, my father!"

It was that accusation that had hurt her the most. The sight of the burning hatred from Lucina's eyes, all directed at her, would be forever seared in her mind.

Lucina. Chrom's daughter. Her daughter. The little light she had borne into the world, the babe that she hadn't seen in months since her imprisonment. To think that her future counterpart, the young woman, hated her so much that she denied their relation, their bond.

The pain was only surpassed by the false hope that rose within her when Chrom went to visit her in the prison, only for her fate to be ultimately sealed.

"Heh, to think that this is the fate to befall us…it's quite ironic don't you think?" A pained voice all too similar to her own yet different at the same time rang out through the void, one which was a lot closer than she liked.

Robin turned to her right and her purple eyes met their red counterparts on a face perfectly identical to her own, a pained yet cruel grin plastered on it. "Grima."

The Fell Dragon grasped on a similar wound of her own on her chest, though the powerful being did lack two pairs of wounds currently present on the tactician's body.

These wounds were on her wrists and ankles, gained from the dimeritium shackles that had bound her in her imprisonment. It was a tender reminder of her comrades…well, former comrades' lack of faith in her.

After one last stare at her own wounds, Robin's gaze went to her counterpart's sole wound, a sight that drew conflicted emotions within her.

Was she supposed to be glad, vindicated even, that this monster who was supposed to take her flesh as a vessel got such a gruesome wound?

Or was she supposed to feel rage at the fact that not only had she received the same wound as this monster, mere hours after its defeat, and not been given one chance of redemption?

No matter what emotion it really was however, it all came down to the fact that she just felt hurt.

"I see your pain, feel it even." Grima suddenly spoke, which drew Robin's attention. "You may deny it all you want Robin…but you can't escape the truth. You are my perfect vessel, the one truly capable of wielding my power."

The cogs in Robin's mind, the same mind capable of many a great victorious strategy started to turn once more. There was only one reason why Grima would remind her of her status, why it would even dare to try and sympathize with her pain…

Grima needed a host now.

Yes, that was definitely it. Though she did not know how, what her former comrades had done were truly not enough to defeat Grima. The Falchion perhaps, but it would only seal her for a thousand years. But why wait that long when there was still a chance for revenge?

"It's still not too late Robin. I know you want vengeance against those who've wronged you. We can kill those traitorous Shepherds and save our slayer for last so he sees their deaths one by one. Oh! We can even include that daughter of his."

Lucina… The tactician thought of her, of the scorn and hatred burning within the young woman who had lost her father and future at the hands of Grima. A young woman who was forced to bear an immense burden she was not ready for. A spiteful woman, young and hurting.

But that thought, the image she had of Lucina was replaced by that of her babe, one she'd never see again. Was she going to deny her flesh and blood just for a chance of vengeance? Would she ensure that her future be of the same fate and let the cycle of hatred continue?

…

Her decision made, she let her left hand clasp Grima's waiting hand. A connection was established between them as purple flames and inky eldritch veins of darkness bound and locked the limbs. The act made the monster smile wide as if in euphoria as she felt the ruinous power and essence of the Fell Dragon began to transfer. "Yes! You made the right choice–"

As Grima began to gloat, Robin focused on the budding connection and drew the power of the abomination towards her other hand. She had no time to hesitate. This was their one and only chance!

The now blackened flames of Ignis erupted from her waiting hand and it caught the monster's attention all too late. It immediately tried to stop her with its free arm yet was forced to use it to grip her temple as an intense migraine erupted.

Just as she had expected, the Robin of the Future Past was still inside Grima and had taken the chance she provided. Now, she need only do her own part!

Schlick.

With a hand that emitted the power of ruin buried in her chest, the Fell Dragon coughed out globs of black blood in agony that stained Robin's paling face. "Wha– How did you– Why?!"

"I managed to figure it out. It is said that the Awakened Falchion can only seal you…but how about using your own power against you? Now we both know." Despite the pain that coursed through, Robin felt her lips spread ever so slightly even as she–no, they all weakened.

"Fool! Why do this?! Did they not betray you?! KILL YOU?" Grima all but spat as she tried to rise, only to slip and fall on weakened legs. Control over the body the Fell Dragon inhabited for years continued to leave her in lieu of its proper owner. "W-why resist?!"

"I know that they wronged me Grima. I will not deny that I want them to feel all of the pain I've suffered." The tactician admitted truthfully, no matter how it hurt her. "…but I will not deny my little girl the future she deserves. Even–even if it means I will cease to exist in her life, I will give her that. I am her mother Grima and you can't take that from me!"

"You foo–gah!" More blood dribbled out of her mouth and Robin saw the Fell Dragon's eyes flicker between baleful red and thankful purple. Eventually, it settled on the latter as the woman gasped. "T-thank…you."

Though her hands– and with it, the rest of her non-corporeal form– were beginning to fade to the void, the tactician still reached out and embraced her freed counterpart. It was an act that was reciprocated in silence, for words need not be said anymore. Not when their tears fell freely, only to keep disappearing in motes of light as their memories, different yet familiar experiences, were shared between them.

A service to the crown.

A field and no memories.

A triumph that proved worth.

A choice to bear arms.

A prince, wounded and crippled.

A thwarted assassination, royals saved.

A ruler's life, snuffed short.

A ruler, made a martyr.

An oath that united two.

A stranger that sundered love.

An heir, her precious daughter.

A princess that swore vengeance.

An empire with thousands dead.

A conqueror defeated, bonds fractured.

A son born in peace.

A father who manipulated her.

A dying husband forgiving her.

All her bonds in twain.

A prisoner in her flesh.

A cell, her spirit broken.

A divine sword, her savior.

A sealed blade, her murderer.

Memories exchanged, the tears continued to fall freely from their closed eyes. Though they were dying, they were finally free from their torment. However, they feared what fate was now ahead of them, if there even was something else or none at all that existed for them in their end.

No one but they were present for each other in their last remaining moments. None would ever know the extent of what they've done, sacrificed…

But… A thought– no, a wish bloomed in their connected minds. Borne from regret and desire, of despair and hope.

If fate would have it…

Lost as they were in their painful memories and thoughts, eldritch flames that erupted went unnoticed, a mass of corrupted divine power that clung to the two broken souls and sought only one thing. Survive.

I wish that the next life we have…would be kinder.

And now was its chance.

Pain assaulted every fiber and fragment of his broken being. Swords protruded from his flesh and grated his bones. His insides a mesh of tissue and razors. An arm all but lost to a mess of blades. And a mind that lost all it held yet again like the fire that had claimed it prior.

Still, he lived on. Clung to life as if to fulfill a purpose. For what purpose, he no longer knew.

As he lay there, a drip of blood echoed in the oblivion, but 'twas not his own. "O warrior of blades, do you hear me?"

He does. Somehow, even if he was currently a mess, he actually does hear her. Had he been more capable he would've shown the speaker some common decency and reply.

But would this powerful being allow him to do so? Even now as her life bled, he could feel the power that emanated from her like a deity made corporeal. Could it be the reason why he could understand her and not be numb to the world, lost in pain?

"Do not fear, great warrior. Please, allow me to aid you." He heard blood drip once more and soon, the taste of burning iron filled his mangled mouth. Azure flames consumed his very being as it swiftly sought its purpose.

The liquid fire now began to course through him, sifted through the cracks of fragmented memories, and saw bleak glimpses of who they once were.

A childhood lost in flames.

A life drowned in blood.

A light, a hopeful smile.

A blight, a weary servitude.

An ideal under starlit night.

A curse beneath gear-filled skies.

A red pendant, owner unknown.

A memento, now his catalyst.

A knight framed by moonlight.

A sight he'd forever keep.

A lover chosen over ideals.

A sacrifice to save one.

A promise of cherry blossoms.

A cost for promised victory.

They were a sword, broken. That, her flame had judged. And it found them worthy.

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

As sensations different from pain returned, he felt drops of a new liquid fall onto his ravaged face. Blades that had pierced his eyes from inside dispersed into motes of light, the damage quickly becoming undone by the strange flame that bathed him. When it was finished, it finally allowed him to see the deity who saw fit to place his head on her lap.

With the crown on her forehead, one might compare her to an elven queen or goddess with the ethereal beauty she beheld. Long pointy ears and silky jade hair perfectly framed a serene, beautiful face.

However, a steady stream of tears from the deity's green eyes flowed down her cheeks, and it befuddled him. Was she crying for him? Why?

"Fate has dealt you a bad hand warrior. You have suffered much on the respective paths you have taken, both of you." She said, her voice soft but powerful as the tears from her eyes eventually slowed and dried. "I am she who is called Naga, the Divine Dragon. Forgive me, for as I am now, I do not have the power to bring you back from whence you came."

Back? Where was he to go back when he didn't even know who he was? And didn't she say both of you? What did she mean by that? He tried to speak but his shredded throat was still being treated.

"It is not fair but circumstances have left me no other choice. I am not long for this world." The words drew his confusion before he noticed the horrific injury inflicted upon her person, the source of her fading life. It was a ghastly wound, as if an angry god had decided to try and dissect her, only to then partially close the wound with still burning flames that flickered between purple and pitch black.

He tried once more to speak yet his body wouldn't let him. Eyes locked on hers, he struggled nevertheless to convey his questions. Why was she, a dragon, helping him? Why not heal herself instead?

"Do not fret bearer of infinite swords. Though I may soon be gone, my power and role shall be inherited by my heir." Naga answered his unvoiced questions as if she read his mind. "However, I must ask of you to listen to what I say and, if you find it in your heart, the kindness to fulfill mine request."

Though it was painful, he stubbornly forced himself to nod.

Seeing his admirable resolve and a thankful glint in her eyes, Naga began her tale. "There is a woman, Robin, born and bred to be the vessel of a threat to mankind, Grima the Fell Dragon. Though she was taken away by her mother to avoid this fate, and Robin even married the descendant of a warrior king I exalted, circumstances still lead to her destiny being fulfilled. Trapped in her own body, she was forced to watch as everything she held dear was ruined."

Jaw now healed, he felt himself grit his teeth in anger at the fate that this Robin had suffered. A fire not of the Divine Dragon's burned within his chest at the thought of this injustice. It was almost as if his body still remembered someone who suffered the same.

"I aided her children and their allies to escape to the past and prevent this tragedy, even with Grima following them, but…" The pause sent a sinking feeling through him, and he somehow felt that this was connected to the mystery of her presence here. "I fear something went wrong."

"In this past, I saw Robin betrayed and imprisoned by her own allies with a malice I could not fathom. Worse, it was spearheaded by her daughter with the Exalt. And eventually, after the defeat of Grima, she was murdered by the man she loved."

NO! Why? How did this happen? Such thoughts echoed in his mind but most of all, he found himself worrying for the poor woman's soul.

"Though my state is weakened as it is right now by the Fell Dragon's hand, I mustered all my strength to find the source of this anomaly and I found…a tainted presence. Though it is no longer here, it seems that it is not by chance that I found you nearby. From what I've gathered, it seems you were the cause of its retreat." The fire's work was becoming swifter as the blades were dispersed. Flesh and bone were not only healed with nary a scar, but it was now made stronger and better than ever. He knew what was coming. "Hero, 'twould be my plea that you find this anomaly and defeat it once more. Thus, I am more than willing to aid you."

The mass of light motes above them, the fragments of blades from his body were now being compressed in a core of her azure divine flames. Nearby it, a large ivory fang floated and was soon drawn towards it. "Let my fang be your tool."

The very second her fang made contact and sank into its center, the core burned brighter like a star, its mass being compressed. No, it was not just simply that. She was forging it into a shape that's unmistakable.

With a breath of divine lightning unleashed from her mouth, it hit the formed core and dispersed the flames, the item's appearance now free for them to inspect. Polished steel and translucent azure, burnished gold and carved ivory, these decorated the blessed arm he shall bear.

And that was to be taken quite literally, as he turned his gaze to his left where a ruined mess of blades that his arm once was, now there no longer. Though it could not be saved, the Divine Dragon must've decided to repurpose it instead. If his purpose was to be the deity's plea, then he'll use this gift.

The arm was humanoid but it definitely carried with it inhuman traits. Its flesh glowed azure underneath scales of oddly flexible metal. Portions of it were more armor-like pieces or bands of metal, such as its fingers, bicep, and forearm. Then there was the fact that it thrummed with power, part of it was the Divine Dragon's blessing. The other was familiar, dangerous, and sealed. But even sealed, it gave off of the feeling of countless swords, waiting to strike.

"You may be healed but the power you have is unstable. It may take time before it acclimates, so I only ask that you will be cautious, hero." Naga said as the arm attached itself to him, the sensation of impaled needles erupting from where his shoulder was. With nary a thought, he clenched then flexed the fingers of his new arm as well as moving it around, revealing that it responded with no issues.

"Thank you for everything Naga." He replied earnestly. However, he could not help but feel disappointed that it was all he could say for the weakening deity. Thus, he decided that his next course of action would be... "May I ask if there's anything else I can do for you?"

"Shirou…" Naga's gaze turned to the distance, a look of disappointment and regret on her face. Eventually, she turned back to him, the want in her palpable. "There is one."

"What would it be then?" That was all he asked, not of who he was even with the mention of what seemed to be his name. For he could wonder who he once was later.

"Before I went to search for the anomaly, I tried to look for Robin, both of them. To give them a measure of peace as they passed on." She let loose a sigh as she caressed the red and white strands of his hair. "I was too late yet again. They disappeared, along with a significant mass of Grima's power."

That statement brought Shirou to one possible conclusion. "They live."

"I believe so yes." The Divine Dragon punctuated with a nod. "That is why I must beg you that you find and help Robin first."

The warrior's mismatched eyes widened at the fact that Naga was begging and how contradicting it was to her plea. "But what about the anomaly?"

"...I can only send you on one timeline right now." The statement rendered him silent as he was reminded of her current state, that she would soon be dead. It probably didn't help that she had used a significant amount of her energy to heal him as well as forge his new arm. "If I choose to send you in the path of the anomaly, I fear of what will happen to Robin. It is likely that she has become the new Fell Dragon after Grima's demise. I do not want that she be vilified, or worse, killed yet again for matters beyond her choice."

Shirou's visage grew grim at her words. Though part of him wanted to seek out the anomaly that had caused all this, the fact that there was someone in possible danger mattered more. "…I understand. Send me to her Naga."

At his answer, Naga gifted him with a grateful smile. A magic circle shined underneath where he stood as her form began to flicker and fade. "My flames truly have judged you well. I have faith that you'll succeed, Shirou."

And with that said, she was no more as the light sent him into slumber.

In a field of near-endless green, there slept a young woman with white hair bound in pigtails. Clad in ripped and dirty prison clothing more apt to be rags, it failed to protect her adequately against the elements despite the moderate weather. Soon, she woke.

Confusion and pain afflicted her the moment she did, her temples clutched in her scarred hands as two lifetimes worth of memories filled her new body. She screamed in anger, horror, pain, and regret as tears fell from her eyes. Screamed of the injustice and misery she suffered from, of the cruel fate she had.

Eventually, it stopped and allowed her to take in deep breaths to calm herself as she remembered who she was.

She was Robin Daraen, the former Grandmaster and disavowed Queen of Ylisse, and now…she was also the new Fell Dragon.

Before she could even come to terms with that fact, a flash of light nearly blinded her with its intensity. Forced to cover her eyes, she did not see the light turn into a circular gate that heralded the arrival of a sleeping young man. Gently floated down on a bed of grass, he had red hair that had a prominent streak of white just above his left eye and slightly tanned skin. A cloak of pristine white hid the rest of his body as well as protected him from the elements as he slumbered.

As she blinked away the spots in her glassy purple eyes, it gave way to confusion at the sight of the white-cloaked man. What? Who? How? Such were the questions that echoed in her mind at the anomaly before discipline forged from her pro– former profession– kicked in, hand now placed on her dainty chin.

Yes, an anomaly. She was no fool. For no matter how human he looked, there was a power that emanated through his very being that was a dead giveaway of his peculiarity. His power was greater than the average soldier or mage. It was almost painfully easy to notice, even more so with how she herself was also an anomaly.

With a shake of her head, she set her eyes to assess this anomaly, to see whether he could possibly be an ally…or a foe.

Should I think of him now as a foe? It would spare me a lot of trouble, right? With how powerful he is, I wouldn't be surprised if he was sent to kill me. Robin thought bitterly as she held her scarred right wrist close to her chest. Though she was indeed more powerful now than she could have ever imagined, most of what power she had on hand seemed to have been used to recreate her body and bring herself to this new world (or timeline perhaps?) to escape the dark void that was her afterlife. The rest was cut off from her, probably still in her previous world.

Her previous world, the one she came from and the two timelines she lived there.

The first as the Queen of Ylisse who became possessed by Grima, made to kill her own husband and many of her friends as she remained a prisoner of her own body, forced to watch as everything she held dear and fought for was decimated.

The second as the imprisoned tactician, betrayed by her lover and friends, with the former's exalted blade impaled through her heart, all caused by the callous words of one person that ruined all the bonds she had built, fearful of a legacy she never wanted.

Trust. Betrayal. Bonds. Fear. Guilt.

Should I think of him now as a foe? It would spare me a lot of trouble, right? She remembered.

Robin felt as if she was slapped at the recollection, regret and guilt clear on her face. Who was she to decide whether he was a foe and act upon such an assumption? She knew not of his side of the story, of what he was, why he was here, and how he had appeared from basically nowhere. Had she acted on that train of thought, she would have been no better than her betrayers.

The scars she bears burned hot like fire and the tears flowed down anew on her cheeks, the wounds in her soul reopened at the agonizing reminder of her fate.

Why couldn't they trust me? As much as she wanted an answer to that question, only nothing but pain came.

And again, on that field of near-endless green, the despair-filled cries of a broken queen denied of trust rang out.

The wind whispered in his ears as the grass swayed, a melody that tried to lull him back to sleep. Tempting as it was however, the sobs that he could hear a few feet away from him rang like thunder.

Shirou could not ignore it nor would he do so. It was time to wake.

The blue sky, complimented by a few clouds and birds in flight greeted his now open eyes, yet it was not what he wanted– needed to see. So he raised his upper body, hood falling off his head when he did so, to lay his gaze upon what woke him.

Or rather, who it was, was what he then realized when he saw a woman with white hair bound in an oddly familiar pair of pigtails that framed her face.

Her pained and tear-stained face, eyes covered by her hands and her mouth still open to let out her cries.

The feeling of resemblance passed quickly. Shirou didn't know her. Perhaps he had known someone who had a similar hairstyle…but it was not this woman.

Hell, he didn't even know where he was. Still, he knew what he should– needed to do at this moment.

With fire in his mismatched amber-and-silver eyes, Shirou stood up and carefully approached the woman. He made sure his footsteps were heard as grass crunched under his boot, yet the woman ignored him, lost as she was to her emotions.

His destination reached in as little as ten steps, he knelt directly in front of the woman, yet his presence was still lost to her.

He had only one course of action. There was the likely outcome that she would be startled yes. Even then he could only hope that the outcome would be favorable.

Decision made, Shirou reached out, his right hand placed gently on her bare left cheek.

The woman gasped, his touch made her recoil back in caution. The act allowed him to fully see her face, previously covered by her hands.

She's beautiful. His mind couldn't help but point out at the sight of her face, messy it may be. It was fact and nothing more, one that was brushed aside at the sight of glassy purple eyes. Her eyes, the windows to her soul, reflected only pain, fear, and confusion.

And beneath the slew of emotions he saw, a power bubbled to the surface as her eyes gained a red glow while her pupils narrowed and lengthened into serpentine slits. Purple flames with eldritch pitch black veins flickered to existence on her person on what he now noticed were scars on her wrists and ankles, and one particularly more gruesome scar found on her bosom.

These were the same flames he saw on Naga's injuries.

I fear of what will happen to Robin. It is likely that she has become the new Fell Dragon after Grima's demise. Naga's words came back to him that moment and thus he realized who exactly this woman was. Robin.

Shirou slowly raised both of his hands in surrender, his gaze still upon her. He felt neither fear nor pity at the sight. There was only one wish. He could only hope that she'd realize he wished not to hurt her but only help her.

Because it's not wrong to help someone. The thought suddenly came to mind, the words resonating deep within him. How strange yet oddly fitting, one he recognized was ideal even.

Robin held eye contact with him and he dared not make any overt movements that might give her cause to smite him with the power she wielded. Shirou knew that he could defend himself just fine. The power that stirred in response within him, a power that smelled of steel and fire like that of a forge, told him that he too was dangerous. Perhaps that was why she was cautious against him as well.

Thus, there was only one course of action. He focused on the source of his power and like the bonfire that it was he willed it to become nothing more than embers.

Many would judge him a fool for this action, some part of him that he didn't like did. But again, there was nothing wrong with wanting to help. If he needed to make himself vulnerable for her to trust him, so be it.

Robin's brows furrowed in confusion at what he had done. Still, it (thankfully) paid off as the ebony flames grew weaker until it faded altogether, her scars the only thing visible once more.

And there they were again, eyes locked on each other. At least until a cool breeze that lightly tousled their hair interrupted them. One that made the woman shiver as her gray dress– little more than a dirty rag that covered her modesty– proved insufficient as protection.

Shirou frowned at the sight. That was a problem he needed to rectify. Thankfully, he had just what was needed.

With nary a thought, the redhead unclasped his cloak then placed it on her, and made sure it covered her bare skin to give her ample warmth in one swift yet graceful motion. Robin needed it more than he did, he reasoned as he found a strange black armor on his torso and a red sleeve on his right arm to be of adequate protection.

They didn't provide him the same level of warmth, but clothing was still clothing. Nothing would change what it was.

His actions had quite an effect it seemed. Robin's teary eyes had widened further in shock, her hands now limp and a question left unsaid in her trembling lips. Why?

A smile grew on his lips and Shirou moved once more to give his answer.

Another gasp escaped her lips. And yet this time, she stayed still as she accepted his embrace, his strong arms now wrapped around her frame.

As he rubbed her cloak covered back in circular motions, Shirou cared not about the power he could feel from her, no matter how ruinous and dangerous it may be. He only acknowledged that this woman needed aid and he would not deny her that.

"Ah… Hah…" Robin was desperately trying not to cry once more, that much was obvious.

"It's okay." He finally spoke, though he didn't know whether she'd understood him. It was possible that there was a language barrier between them unless Naga had foreseen this and did something to him. No matter, actions speak louder than words. "Let it all out."

That did it. Her grip grew tighter on him as her wails were finally released for the world to hear.

And so, there they were on that field of near-endless green. A woman broken and left to pour her heart out, and a man who knew nothing but to help her– locked in an embrace.

Author's Notes:

*busts out of development hell* Yorokobe Shounen to Shoujo! Will S. LaVi LIVES!

So yeah, I finally reappeared after *checks calendar* a year. Horrible, I know. But when one such as I was facing issues like College Hell and other stuff that complicated my health (in all aspects of the term), it was inevitable that I went on a long break from writing. It's also inevitable that I got rusty because most of what I write nowadays are endless reports due to my journey to become an English Teacher. Unlimited Report Works is real ladies and gentlemen.

Nevertheless, I felt it prudent to finally finish one of the works I had planned which is this cross-over, Kintsugi no Fusei. I know there might be eagle-eyed viewers who may notice similarities that the premise may have so let's get that cleared out first. Kintsugi no Fusei is inspired by a magnificent Fire Emblem: Awakening fanfic called "Shattered Reflection" written by the great Natzo. And before you launch a crusade against me for this slight, I actually asked his permission and got it. Relax people.

Anyways, I also need to mention the one-shots that inspired Natzo to make Shattered Reflections. "Influenced Suicide" as well as "Omens and Visitors" by Illusion of Insanity. If said author is reading this...please be gentle and forgive me for my slight.

Moving on, I only ask that y'all leave a review so I know what you thought of it and what improvements to my writing can be made. After all, as Dad of Boi once said. "Do not be sorry, be better."

Remember, keep yourselves and others safe in these tough times. I hope that this brought some entertainment to you all.

Till next time, this is Will S. LaVi.

P.S. (Sunday, April 5, 2020) Did some light editing as I seem to have missed a few errors.