[ The first thing Ai learns is how to cover tattoos with foundation.
The mark comes on slowly - or at least, slowly enough that it takes a few days until she notices it. Though with how much of a mess her head has been since that evening, she's sort of impressed with herself that she'd noticed it at all.
At first, she mistakes it for a bruise. It's faint and vaguely blue, imprecisely shaped and tender to the touch in the way a bruise sometimes is. She doesn't know what she might have done to cause it, but she imagines it might have happened in the chaos of the initial summoning, that she might have caught her hand on something without realising. But rather than fade, the mark grows increasingly sharp and clear as time passes and Ai realizes perhaps later than she should that it's not a bruise at all. It's the shape of some winged insect - she supposes it would have to be a butterfly - pressed to the back of her hand like a stamp. Or maybe a brand. Somehow, nobody else seems to have noticed it at all but rather than take the risk of courting any sort of scandal, Ai just makes sure that nobody gets the chance.
The second thing Ai learns is that this mark is called a command seal.
Getting through the rest of the book is a miserable slog. Kanji is her enemy on the best of days but between all the scribbly handwritten notes and all the archaic words she's never even seen in her life, it feels like she's reading in another language altogether. But now that she's stumbled her way into this, it seems vital that she understand as much of this bizarre situation as she can. It's a less efficient way of learning than if she'd just ask Oberon - she knows that if she asked, he'd explain things simply and kindly but it seems wiser to put her own effort in than bombarding him with questions. She also knows, after all, that a clueless girl trying to fix her own ignorance is much, much preferable to one who asks too many questions.
The third thing Ai learns is - ]
... Mm. Oberon... are you there?
[ A pointless question. Ai knows that even when she seems to be alone, all it takes is saying his name for him to come to her side in a blink.
It's late. Later then her usual bedtime, but she has a rare day off tomorrow and Ai's taking advantage of the extra time to drill through as much of what's left of the book as she can. Between dictionaries, notes to herself and everything else, her desk is a mess but she's been making surprisingly steady progress at least.
So why does she have such a troubled look on her face? ]
[ he told her once already, didn't he? when she was in trouble, calling out to him is all it would take for him to save her.
it's a lie, of course. it all is. he hasn't actually left her side once since he arrived. why would he waste his time? the command seals are late in arriving - the other masters haven't even summoned their servants yet. why not learn more about tihis master? why not grow to understand her more, bit by bit? ]
Ai. [ he uses her name in private. a request that he has no interest in violating - yet. ] Can't sleep?
Mm. Something like that. [ The weary smile she gives him isn't that much of a performance, for once. ] I had some time, so I thought I'd try to get through a little more of the book, but...
[ When her gaze drops back down to all her notes, that troubled look reasserts itself. She doesn't think she's gotten anything wrong this time but
But-
When she looks back up at him, it's with an apologetic smile. ]
I guess I'm having more trouble than I thought I would. So I thought I'd ask for a little help.
[ he fully manifests beside her as she speaks, leaning in to look over her shoulder. like this, it's clear just how much taller he is than her - how easily he fits into her personal space, just a bit too close for comfort. ]
Hmm... How should I put this? Some of the words in here are a bit complex, so it all looks much tougher than it is. You were taught most of the rest of the words, right?
[ it's not an advanced text at all. the notes of a layman mage, kept decipherable to even the humans around them. just how bad is her reading ability? just how bad were the people that raised her? ]
Just ask away. I told you, didn't I? Granting your wish is my only priority.
[ If she's uncomfortable - if it even enters her mind at all that he's too close - she makes no comment. Holding your tongue even when the hairs on the back of your neck stand up is part of being an idol too. ]
Pretty much. Some of them were old enough that I've never seen anyone use them, so it was really throwing me off.
[ That's partly true, at least. Sounding out the words in your script is innocent and charming when you're a middle schooler but less so when the industry sees you as a working adult and you're still reading your co-workers' names wrong. ]
But this part here is what I couldn't figure out.
[ She underlines a scratchy part of her own notes - a line of text copied by sight rather than any understanding. It's decipherable, but only because the original is there for comparison. ]
It's saying something about other pieces, I think... but the part that I don't get is pieces of what?
[ if the day is warm and kind, the summer kingdom shining through, then the night is terrible winter baring its teeth. he researches. he reconnoiters. he finds books, scrolls, lessons engraved onto magical circuitry-
and he finds ai's mother, at that. funny how simple it is when you know where to look. funny how humans are so generously willing to apologize when they're afraid, even though they never once mean it.
as soon as she's woken up in the morning, he excitedly manifests near her. ]
Good morning, Ai. [ peaceable. kind. not a trace of blood on his clothes. ] You did a wonderful job yesterday. Are you ready for your first magic lesson?
[ When Ai dreams, it's of the stage. The roar of a crowd, the surge of scarlet penlights, the boom and rumble of noise so loud she can't hear herself sing over it, all music and motion with no pause for breath and whenever she finally jolts awake, she feels no better rested than she did before falling asleep.
These last few days have been different. She dreams of still darkness, of being somewhere chilly and earthy and hearing voices - or maybe the chattering and skittering of insects. They're more peaceful than her usual dreams and yet, somehow, they're more frightening too. She attributes them to stress and the strangeness of her new situation and tries not to linger - but like a butterfly shaped bruise on the back of her hand, they linger regardless.
She's groggy, still half under her duvet, when he appears and she blinks at him a little uncertainly - then sits up very straight. ]
That was- [ She blinks a few times. And then just like that, something clicks and Hoshino Ai's pretty face snaps back into place. ] You weren't kidding about that?
Of course I wasn't. Faeries are bound to their words, you know! [ a beat. ] ...or at least, that's how it used to work. You really can't afford to trust someone that quickly in this modern age, can you?
[ normally, these past few days, he's looked away when she's been waking up. right now, though, he seems to have other things in mind. ]
Come on. I think it's time you learned your first bit of magecraft.
I guess I just haven't talked to enough faeries to know for myself...
[ See, a joke. Haha. She's fine.
She pushes the covers aside and hastily finger combs her sleep mussed hair. Usually by now she'd be up and dressed and polished and out of the door but with her schedule free, she'd slept in later than usual. She should probably at least still drag herself through her morning routine but...
Well, she's a little impatient to see what this magic lesson is all about. Can you really blame her? ]
Will it really work...? It's just- I'm not a mage, am I? Summoning you was sort of an accident as it was...
Of course it'll work. [ of course it'll work. ] Anyone can learn magic, after all. It's just a matter of finding the right teacher.
[ it's a lie, pure and simple. not everyone can do such things in this world. the number of people capable are outweighed in every respect by the rabble around them. but his master, ai... she's something special, isn't she? even if she's the worst of the nobles, she still bears that title by right. ]
Come out to the living room when you can. I think a bit of sunlight will help your magic.
[ it's easy, pretending nothing has changed between them. almost as trivially easy as it would be for anyone else to see just how much has changed. he touches her shoulder, her cheek, her hair with barely justifiable excuses. he touches her, at night, his body warm against hers and his fingers stroking at her and little lied reassurances whispered into her ear.
and each time, she finishes, and he stops. no more connection can be allowed. even if he's touched her core - even if they've been permanently, inextricably linked already.
it's a full two weeks later - two weeks of idle touches, of half-sincere teasing and lovemaking and mana transfers - that ai finally asks him the question he's been dreading. ]
Hmm? Sorry, what was that? [ casual. insincere. buying time. ] I wasn't concentrating, haha.
[ She begins to suspect something is wrong after their first mana transfer.
That's what they call it every time, like they can make it more forgivable by pretending it's anything but sex. Even so, Ai has no complaints. It feels good - it doesn't hurt, or make her feel strange and sick inside like sex sometimes does, the creeping dread of knowing you've done something wrong and waiting to be punished. It feels good and sometimes that makes her feel a little guilty because this shouldn't be about love or even because they want each other. Just pure practicality. Thinking about it like that, doesn't that make it the dirtiest, most selfish way she's ever indulged herself? But he's so kind from the first touch to the last that she doesn't feel dirty or selfish at all. If it's like that then it should be just fine — a businesslike transaction of kindness and pretend intimacy between Master and Servant.
It's the kindness that makes her wonder. It's the way he touches her and won't ever let her do the same in return. It's the way he leaves her a trembling mess and doesn't take it a step further. She's not really good at reading people. Most days, she can hardly read herself. But for all her other faults, she's not completely stupid.
But more than anything, it's the dreams. They come in so much clearer and more vividly after the first mana transfer, clearer and sharper every night since. They stay cold and damp, grassy and earthy and dark and she thinks that might be alright. She had thought that until last night. ]
I asked you to tell me your name. [ She stands facing him, pulling herself as tall as she dares and doing an excellent job of playacting that she's not afraid. Her hair, still damp from the shower, clings to her neck. ] The real one, this time.
[ She'd bathed that morning in water as scalding hot at the pipes could draw it. She'd sat on the stool as the shower roared, shuddering and hitching and telling herself that the water running down her skin didn't at all feel like the feet of a thousand insects skittering all around her body. ]
Fine, fine. Though really, I think you'll be disappointed. [ heaving an overdramatic sigh- ] It's "Auberon." Diminutive of Alberich, if you must know. Sir Shakespeare may have been a genius, but he certainly wasn't afraid to take from myth and legend, you know?
[ it all has the ring of truth. it's something she could look up scholars and papers on, if she so chose. and yet, like this, each dream has made one thing clearer and clearer:
he lies-
-and he lies-
and he lies!
and through it all, he reaches out, strokes at the place where her normally-hidden nape of her neck lays vulnerable- ]
The accusations tastes so bitter in her mouth that she can't bring herself to voice it. What place does she have to call anybody else a liar? Even so, some trembling indignation in her makes her take a sharp step back, out of his touch and away from his reach. Not that it means much of anything, of course. But the implied rejection is enough. ]
No. It isn't. [ Her voice is trembling a little too, but it's certain. Without even meaning to, she has one hand clasped in the other, pressed to her heart. Like she doesn't trust herself to stand straight without something to grip onto. ] Please, don't—
[ She stops herself for just a moment and the absurdity of what she's about to ask makes a laugh come tumbling out first. ]
[ ...ah. she really doesn't believe him, does she? the smile doesn't leave his face - that ever-present, gentle smile - but there's something else in his eyes, now. something dug deep down. something ai herself might recognize. ]
...that's a laugh, coming from you. [ still pleasant. still teasing. and yet, there's something under it - a harsh desperation. not now. not like this. stop digging. ] Or do all idols practice that line? What was it- "I don't know what to do?"
[ he can't point to those other words, those convenient lies he'd provided for her. because if he does, if he acknowledges those-
then everything else will come crashing down with them. ]
[ It's been a week and a half since that man died and Hoshino Ai hasn't spoken since.
When Oberon had found her still hunched over the body, plastered with wet, reeking blood, words had poured out of her then. She'd been so scared, she'd messed up so badly, she didn't know what to do, and all the while she had been babbling, the truth underlying her words had shone through clear as day: I wasn't wrong. Protecting you isn't wrong. I'm so scared. Help me. Help me.
The words dissolve into tears the moment he touches her. She cries, the helpless, open-mouthed and unashamed crying of a child who hasn't yet learned to be ashamed of the enormity of their emotions. She only barely quiets when she's poured gently into the bath, her hair cleaned and her skin washed of blood but even then her breath comes out in sobs and retches. She only fully falls silent when her tears at last seem to run dry and exhausted, she slips into sleep clinging to him like she's afraid he'll be gone when she opens her eyes.
But it's Hoshino Ai who's gone the next morning. Nobody notices, because from their perspective, nothing at all has changed. They see her smiling, laughing, talking and dancing as if nothing at all has happened. No blood has been spilled. Her heart is still in one piece. That story on the news is scary but it has nothing at all to do with her, clearly.
Hoshino Ai hasn't spoken a word because Ai of B-Komachi has so seamlessly taken her place. ]
I'mhoooome!☆Jeez,todaywasjustloaded...
[ She comes breezing in with a smile bright enough to light up the room, hanging up her bag as she steps in from the entryway and her voice is bright, too - warm, affectionate and sweet. The way anyone would want to be addressed by a girl like Ai.
[ one day of genuine, terrified connection. one day of holding titahoshino ai while she heaves and wails and tries desperately to hold on to whatever's nearest. and then-
nothing. a week and a half of nothing. no exchange of mana past the latent trickle from her circuits, no words of reassurance from one to the other, no words for him to see and understand. there's nothing left - and the longer she stays like this, the more that sick anger builds in his stomach.
(how long until everything she was is gone, like this? how much time does he have left?) ]
Who would miss someone like you?
[ he doesn't even bother to look up at her as she returns in. a lie that nests into itself; a lie that becomes truth that becomes vacant lie again. why should he bother trying to speak to her, truth or lie be damned? they're just words. neither of them has bothered to say a thing.
but he does grab her wrist as she passes by him - harsh, sharp, grip just a bit too tight for comfort. ]
Stop running. [ a single moment's pause- and then, ] My mana reserves are low. You think I can sustain what I'm doing off your damn leftovers? Get over here.
[ If the words sting like rejection, it's impossible to tell. Her expression doesn't shift in the least and she makes to breeze past him, as if the greeting had been nothing more than a scripted formality.
It's only when he touches her that she pauses. Her expression changes at last from that bright, vacant smile but the thing that replaces it isn't much better; a blank expression of confusion, a pause to process.
(Of course she doesn't know what to do. Ai of B-Komachi has no script to follow for something like this.)
After just a moment too long to be natural, her smile eases back into place - bashful, meek and totally wrong on her face. ]
[ enough. he tugs her effortlessly down to the couch, completely uncaring where her balance and mobility land her. right now, all he cares about is- ]
You have a responsibility. Or did you forget? [ a sharp laugh. he reaches up, caresses her chin with his human fingers. ] I grant your wish, and you fight alongside me.
[ a sharp exhale - a cruel grin. ]
Not that you've had any problems with that. You little murderer.
[ There's no resistance when he tugs her down, even if for a second, it looks like she might. Again, that blank look of alarm. This time it's edged with something else - whether it's fear or anger or maybe both is hard to tell. Her lips part like she means to speak but it takes a few seconds for the words to form.
She can't even fake a script for something like this. ]
I... Aah...
[ And then a smile. With a furrowed brow and a crease to her eyes. Not quite as bright. A submissive animal meekly showing its belly. ]
I'vebeentryingtodomybest.S-sodon'tbesomean.
[ The words are empty but there's still somehow the note of a plea in them. Don't push. Don't ask me to tell the truth. If you're kind to me, I just might break. ]
[ The Holy Grail War ends not quietly, but without fanfare. Nobody applauds for them when the curtain finally falls. Nobody blesses them - the only ovation they receive is the words of love the final Master spits at her like curses.
"I still love you. All of this was always for your sake. Nobody else understands you. Nobody ever will. Nobody-"
With his Servant dead, there's no need to kill the Master to proclaim herself victor. But if she has to listen to another moment of that prattling, Ai thinks she might die herself. It's surprisingly easy this time around - no dramatic swell of tragic strings, no terror, no fear. It's just the ugly, undignified end of a human life and Ai knows how far down the path she is to not being one of those any longer.
Still. She can't stop herself from gently passing a hand over his face to close his eyes for him. She doesn't need him anymore, but all girls are sentimental about their first loves, she thinks. And it's funny - when she'd first become a Master, she'd been reminded of Hikaru Kamiki at every turn by the Servant who'd come for her but now all she can think is how utterly he fails to live up to the real thing. ]
... I thought... I'd be sad. Or that I might regret it. But... I think I'm just relieved it's finally over.
[ The words come out of her halting and slow as she gradually rises to her feet and turns her back on the corpse. She's aware that her clothes are wet and sticky and hot and feels a mild trill of annoyance that she's such a mess at a moment like this. But all the same, once her eyes settle on Oberon, her expression softens. The smile she gives him is repulsively gentle for a girl who was just kneeling in a scorned man's blood. ]
[ the war ends not with a bang, but a whimper. a saber that expects a fair fight to the very end, and a petulant child unwilling to believe that his perfect, idealized doll is worn as ragged as she is. how did they ever last this long...?
(oberon knows, of course. that terrible little lie humans call love. what a joke. nobody of note has ever loved ai hoshino for even a moment of her miserable life.) ]
Of course not, Master. The only real danger was when you went off-script at the end. [ he frowns, gentle and disapproving. ] But I suppose that's just how humans are, isn't it? So desperate for a story's closure.
[ his wings flutter - a butterfly's glass, a moth's scales, a dragonfly's buzz. dust dislodges, slowly floats down, drifts lazily around ai.
a midsummer night's anaesthesia. not a true sleep. just enough to let her drift away, for the moment. after all, what good is stabbingherintheback if she can't even see hisbetrayal? ]
Well, it is what it is. [ a small bow - a grandiose sweep of his cape. ] Restwell,AiHoshino. And... Mayyourwretchednamebeforgottentotime.
[ he smiles down at her as she sinks down, eyes twinkling with mockery and scorn and a hundred other feelings.
and then, with as calm a walk as ever, he walks over the corpse at her side to take the grail in hand. ]
[ Her smile turns apologetic and she laughs. Laughs. ]
Sorry. I didn't mean to make such a mess. ... I just couldn't stand to hear him talk any longer.
[ Insulting her would be one thing, after all. She's more than earned Hikaru Kamiki's scorn a thousand times over. But insisting to the end that he's her one and only, spitting on the bond she's clawed out of the Throne herself?
It's repulsive. ]
But still. [ With a bloodied hand, she takes her skirt and in imitation of him - curtsies politely. A performer at her curtain call. ] I hope it was an entertaining performance.
[ Those are her final words before she slips easily, gratefully into the dream she's been granted. There's still no fear - just the buzz of anticipation, butterflies in her stomach and her chest. The most difficult part is over now, isn't it? Even an encore is never as gruelling as the main performance.
And anyway. She trusts the lead actor at her side with her life and more besides that. ]
[ an entertaining performance? absolutely not. but... it was at least adequate, he'll give her that much. she's played her part as well as any human could possibly do it.
now, all that's left is to play his. to make his wish come true. to wipe the stage clean of those last stains of humanity.
with the grail in hand, full almost to overflowing - and yet not quite complete, still waiting on one last tainted drop - he turns towards her, smiles wide. ]
Ah, I've just had a wonderful thought! A perfectly fitting end to this sordid little tale. [ he speaks to her as if he didn't just drug her - as if she's capable of truly feeling the fear that should be running through her veins. (that would be, even like this, if she had a lick of sense.) ] What if I really did erase you from Proper Human History? An idol, beloved by all, so greedy as to wish for more... forgotten by every last human on this wretched planet.
[ it doesn't matter whether it's the truth. it doesn't matter that she won't fear a word out of his mouth. he's rehearsed each line a hundred times over, prepared since the moment she first saw his pathetic, wretched form hunched against her. he crouches down, reaches out. those beautiful, elfin fingers stroke at her cheek. ]
Wouldn't that be a perfect, tragic end for such a gullible Master?
[ It's late out - she hadn't realised how dark it was when everything came to an end but now, staring up at the sky, she thinks - what a shame that the night sky in Tokyo is too polluted by the city's dirty lights for her to see any stars. It'd be a fitting bit of set design.
Her eyes drift back to his face and still, she's smiling. Her expression is soft and dreamy but her eyes are sharp and focused - she doesn't want to forget a moment of this. She'd fought and clawed and wrung herself dry for this ending. She won't forget a second of it, no matter how wretched our pitiful. ]
It would, wouldn't it? [ A laugh bubbles out of her. ] I don't even get the satisfaction of thinking anyone would mourn me. They'd all just move on like nothing ever happened. Maybe then they'd finally leave me alone.
[ She reaches up towards his face. His eyes really are so lovely, aren't they? Her fingers are too clumsy for her to do much more than brush his bangs back from his forehead and touch her thumb to his lips but her smile grows warmer, fonder as she does. ]
Why don't you give us both what we want, then? Now the Grail's ours. Grantmywish.
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The mark comes on slowly - or at least, slowly enough that it takes a few days until she notices it. Though with how much of a mess her head has been since that evening, she's sort of impressed with herself that she'd noticed it at all.
At first, she mistakes it for a bruise. It's faint and vaguely blue, imprecisely shaped and tender to the touch in the way a bruise sometimes is. She doesn't know what she might have done to cause it, but she imagines it might have happened in the chaos of the initial summoning, that she might have caught her hand on something without realising. But rather than fade, the mark grows increasingly sharp and clear as time passes and Ai realizes perhaps later than she should that it's not a bruise at all. It's the shape of some winged insect - she supposes it would have to be a butterfly - pressed to the back of her hand like a stamp. Or maybe a brand. Somehow, nobody else seems to have noticed it at all but rather than take the risk of courting any sort of scandal, Ai just makes sure that nobody gets the chance.
The second thing Ai learns is that this mark is called a command seal.
Getting through the rest of the book is a miserable slog. Kanji is her enemy on the best of days but between all the scribbly handwritten notes and all the archaic words she's never even seen in her life, it feels like she's reading in another language altogether. But now that she's stumbled her way into this, it seems vital that she understand as much of this bizarre situation as she can. It's a less efficient way of learning than if she'd just ask Oberon - she knows that if she asked, he'd explain things simply and kindly but it seems wiser to put her own effort in than bombarding him with questions. She also knows, after all, that a clueless girl trying to fix her own ignorance is much, much preferable to one who asks too many questions.
The third thing Ai learns is - ]
... Mm. Oberon... are you there?
[ A pointless question. Ai knows that even when she seems to be alone, all it takes is saying his name for him to come to her side in a blink.
It's late. Later then her usual bedtime, but she has a rare day off tomorrow and Ai's taking advantage of the extra time to drill through as much of what's left of the book as she can. Between dictionaries, notes to herself and everything else, her desk is a mess but she's been making surprisingly steady progress at least.
So why does she have such a troubled look on her face? ]
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it's a lie, of course. it all is. he hasn't actually left her side once since he arrived. why would he waste his time? the command seals are late in arriving - the other masters haven't even summoned their servants yet. why not learn more about
tihis master? why not grow to understand her more, bit by bit? ]Ai. [ he uses her name in private. a request that he has no interest in violating - yet. ] Can't sleep?
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[ When her gaze drops back down to all her notes, that troubled look reasserts itself. She doesn't think she's gotten anything wrong this time but
But-
When she looks back up at him, it's with an apologetic smile. ]
I guess I'm having more trouble than I thought I would. So I thought I'd ask for a little help.
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Hmm... How should I put this? Some of the words in here are a bit complex, so it all looks much tougher than it is. You were taught most of the rest of the words, right?
[ it's not an advanced text at all. the notes of a layman mage, kept decipherable to even the humans around them. just how bad is her reading ability? just how bad were the people that raised her? ]
Just ask away. I told you, didn't I? Granting your wish is my only priority.
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Pretty much. Some of them were old enough that I've never seen anyone use them, so it was really throwing me off.
[ That's partly true, at least. Sounding out the words in your script is innocent and charming when you're a middle schooler but less so when the industry sees you as a working adult and you're still reading your co-workers' names wrong. ]
But this part here is what I couldn't figure out.
[ She underlines a scratchy part of her own notes - a line of text copied by sight rather than any understanding. It's decipherable, but only because the original is there for comparison. ]
It's saying something about other pieces, I think... but the part that I don't get is pieces of what?
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and he finds ai's mother, at that. funny how simple it is when you know where to look. funny how humans are so generously willing to apologize when they're afraid, even though they never once mean it.
as soon as she's woken up in the morning, he excitedly manifests near her. ]
Good morning, Ai. [ peaceable. kind. not a trace of blood on his clothes. ] You did a wonderful job yesterday. Are you ready for your first magic lesson?
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These last few days have been different. She dreams of still darkness, of being somewhere chilly and earthy and hearing voices - or maybe the chattering and skittering of insects. They're more peaceful than her usual dreams and yet, somehow, they're more frightening too. She attributes them to stress and the strangeness of her new situation and tries not to linger - but like a butterfly shaped bruise on the back of her hand, they linger regardless.
She's groggy, still half under her duvet, when he appears and she blinks at him a little uncertainly - then sits up very straight. ]
That was- [ She blinks a few times. And then just like that, something clicks and Hoshino Ai's pretty face snaps back into place. ] You weren't kidding about that?
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[ normally, these past few days, he's looked away when she's been waking up. right now, though, he seems to have other things in mind. ]
Come on. I think it's time you learned your first bit of magecraft.
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[ See, a joke. Haha. She's fine.
She pushes the covers aside and hastily finger combs her sleep mussed hair. Usually by now she'd be up and dressed and polished and out of the door but with her schedule free, she'd slept in later than usual. She should probably at least still drag herself through her morning routine but...
Well, she's a little impatient to see what this magic lesson is all about. Can you really blame her? ]
Will it really work...? It's just- I'm not a mage, am I? Summoning you was sort of an accident as it was...
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[ it's a lie, pure and simple. not everyone can do such things in this world. the number of people capable are outweighed in every respect by the rabble around them. but his master, ai... she's something special, isn't she? even if she's the worst of the nobles, she still bears that title by right. ]
Come out to the living room when you can. I think a bit of sunlight will help your magic.
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and each time, she finishes, and he stops. no more connection can be allowed. even if he's touched her core - even if they've been permanently, inextricably linked already.
it's a full two weeks later - two weeks of idle touches, of half-sincere teasing and lovemaking and mana transfers - that ai finally asks him the question he's been dreading. ]
Hmm? Sorry, what was that? [ casual. insincere. buying time. ] I wasn't concentrating, haha.
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That's what they call it every time, like they can make it more forgivable by pretending it's anything but sex. Even so, Ai has no complaints. It feels good - it doesn't hurt, or make her feel strange and sick inside like sex sometimes does, the creeping dread of knowing you've done something wrong and waiting to be punished. It feels good and sometimes that makes her feel a little guilty because this shouldn't be about love or even because they want each other. Just pure practicality. Thinking about it like that, doesn't that make it the dirtiest, most selfish way she's ever indulged herself? But he's so kind from the first touch to the last that she doesn't feel dirty or selfish at all. If it's like that then it should be just fine — a businesslike transaction of kindness and pretend intimacy between Master and Servant.
It's the kindness that makes her wonder. It's the way he touches her and won't ever let her do the same in return. It's the way he leaves her a trembling mess and doesn't take it a step further. She's not really good at reading people. Most days, she can hardly read herself. But for all her other faults, she's not completely stupid.
But more than anything, it's the dreams. They come in so much clearer and more vividly after the first mana transfer, clearer and sharper every night since. They stay cold and damp, grassy and earthy and dark and she thinks that might be alright. She had thought that until last night. ]
I asked you to tell me your name. [ She stands facing him, pulling herself as tall as she dares and doing an excellent job of playacting that she's not afraid. Her hair, still damp from the shower, clings to her neck. ] The real one, this time.
[ She'd bathed that morning in water as scalding hot at the pipes could draw it. She'd sat on the stool as the shower roared, shuddering and hitching and telling herself that the water running down her skin didn't at all feel like the feet of a thousand insects skittering all around her body. ]
I know it's not 'Oberon'.
"reunion / sink"
[ it all has the ring of truth. it's something she could look up scholars and papers on, if she so chose. and yet, like this, each dream has made one thing clearer and clearer:
he lies-
and through it all, he reaches out, strokes at the place where her normally-hidden nape of her neck lays vulnerable- ]
I'm sorry. I shouldn't have kept it from you.
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The accusations tastes so bitter in her mouth that she can't bring herself to voice it. What place does she have to call anybody else a liar? Even so, some trembling indignation in her makes her take a sharp step back, out of his touch and away from his reach. Not that it means much of anything, of course. But the implied rejection is enough. ]
No. It isn't. [ Her voice is trembling a little too, but it's certain. Without even meaning to, she has one hand clasped in the other, pressed to her heart. Like she doesn't trust herself to stand straight without something to grip onto. ] Please, don't—
[ She stops herself for just a moment and the absurdity of what she's about to ask makes a laugh come tumbling out first. ]
Please don't lie to me.
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...that's a laugh, coming from you. [ still pleasant. still teasing. and yet, there's something under it - a harsh desperation. not now. not like this. stop digging. ] Or do all idols practice that line? What was it- "I don't know what to do?"
[ he can't point to those other words, those convenient lies he'd provided for her. because if he does, if he acknowledges those-
then everything else will come crashing down with them. ]
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When Oberon had found her still hunched over the body, plastered with wet, reeking blood, words had poured out of her then. She'd been so scared, she'd messed up so badly, she didn't know what to do, and all the while she had been babbling, the truth underlying her words had shone through clear as day: I wasn't wrong. Protecting you isn't wrong. I'm so scared. Help me. Help me.
The words dissolve into tears the moment he touches her. She cries, the helpless, open-mouthed and unashamed crying of a child who hasn't yet learned to be ashamed of the enormity of their emotions. She only barely quiets when she's poured gently into the bath, her hair cleaned and her skin washed of blood but even then her breath comes out in sobs and retches. She only fully falls silent when her tears at last seem to run dry and exhausted, she slips into sleep clinging to him like she's afraid he'll be gone when she opens her eyes.
But it's Hoshino Ai who's gone the next morning. Nobody notices, because from their perspective, nothing at all has changed. They see her smiling, laughing, talking and dancing as if nothing at all has happened. No blood has been spilled. Her heart is still in one piece. That story on the news is scary but it has nothing at all to do with her, clearly.
Hoshino Ai hasn't spoken a word because Ai of B-Komachi has so seamlessly taken her place. ]
I'm hoooome! ☆ Jeez, today was just loaded...
[ She comes breezing in with a smile bright enough to light up the room, hanging up her bag as she steps in from the entryway and her voice is bright, too - warm, affectionate and sweet. The way anyone would want to be addressed by a girl like Ai.
And yet... ]
You weren't lonely without me, were you?
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titahoshino ai while she heaves and wails and tries desperately to hold on to whatever's nearest. and then-nothing. a week and a half of nothing. no exchange of mana past the latent trickle from her circuits, no words of reassurance from one to the other, no words for him to see and understand. there's nothing left - and the longer she stays like this, the more that sick anger builds in his stomach.
(how long until everything she was is gone, like this? how much time does he have left?) ]
Who would miss someone like you?
[ he doesn't even bother to look up at her as she returns in. a lie that nests into itself; a lie that becomes truth that becomes vacant lie again. why should he bother trying to speak to her, truth or lie be damned? they're just words. neither of them has bothered to say a thing.
but he does grab her wrist as she passes by him - harsh, sharp, grip just a bit too tight for comfort. ]
Stop running. [ a single moment's pause- and then, ] My mana reserves are low. You think I can sustain what I'm doing off your damn leftovers? Get over here.
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It's only when he touches her that she pauses. Her expression changes at last from that bright, vacant smile but the thing that replaces it isn't much better; a blank expression of confusion, a pause to process.
(Of course she doesn't know what to do. Ai of B-Komachi has no script to follow for something like this.)
After just a moment too long to be natural, her smile eases back into place - bashful, meek and totally wrong on her face. ]
Ah, has it really been that long? I guess I've been slacking off...
[ Like it's an unpleasant but necessary chore she's been putting off. ]
But I did just finish work, so...
[ She takes a step back, tugging as if to loosen her hand from his grip. ]
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[ enough. he tugs her effortlessly down to the couch, completely uncaring where her balance and mobility land her. right now, all he cares about is- ]
You have a responsibility. Or did you forget? [ a sharp laugh. he reaches up, caresses her chin with his human fingers. ] I grant your wish, and you fight alongside me.
[ a sharp exhale - a cruel grin. ]
Not that you've had any problems with that. You little murderer.
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[ There's no resistance when he tugs her down, even if for a second, it looks like she might. Again, that blank look of alarm. This time it's edged with something else - whether it's fear or anger or maybe both is hard to tell. Her lips part like she means to speak but it takes a few seconds for the words to form.
She can't even fake a script for something like this. ]
I... Aah...
[ And then a smile. With a furrowed brow and a crease to her eyes. Not quite as bright. A submissive animal meekly showing its belly. ]
I've been trying to do my best. S-so don't be so mean.
[ The words are empty but there's still somehow the note of a plea in them. Don't push. Don't ask me to tell the truth. If you're kind to me, I just might break. ]
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"I still love you. All of this was always for your sake. Nobody else understands you. Nobody ever will. Nobody-"
With his Servant dead, there's no need to kill the Master to proclaim herself victor. But if she has to listen to another moment of that prattling, Ai thinks she might die herself. It's surprisingly easy this time around - no dramatic swell of tragic strings, no terror, no fear. It's just the ugly, undignified end of a human life and Ai knows how far down the path she is to not being one of those any longer.
Still. She can't stop herself from gently passing a hand over his face to close his eyes for him. She doesn't need him anymore, but all girls are sentimental about their first loves, she thinks. And it's funny - when she'd first become a Master, she'd been reminded of Hikaru Kamiki at every turn by the Servant who'd come for her but now all she can think is how utterly he fails to live up to the real thing. ]
... I thought... I'd be sad. Or that I might regret it. But... I think I'm just relieved it's finally over.
[ The words come out of her halting and slow as she gradually rises to her feet and turns her back on the corpse. She's aware that her clothes are wet and sticky and hot and feels a mild trill of annoyance that she's such a mess at a moment like this. But all the same, once her eyes settle on Oberon, her expression softens. The smile she gives him is repulsively gentle for a girl who was just kneeling in a scorned man's blood. ]
You're not hurt?
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(oberon knows, of course. that terrible little lie humans call love. what a joke. nobody of note has ever loved ai hoshino for even a moment of her miserable life.) ]
Of course not, Master. The only real danger was when you went off-script at the end. [ he frowns, gentle and disapproving. ] But I suppose that's just how humans are, isn't it? So desperate for a story's closure.
[ his wings flutter - a butterfly's glass, a moth's scales, a dragonfly's buzz. dust dislodges, slowly floats down, drifts lazily around ai.
a midsummer night's anaesthesia. not a true sleep. just enough to let her drift away, for the moment. after all, what good is stabbing her in the back if she can't even see his betrayal? ]
Well, it is what it is. [ a small bow - a grandiose sweep of his cape. ] Rest well, Ai Hoshino. And... May your wretched name be forgotten to time.
[ he smiles down at her as she sinks down, eyes twinkling with mockery and scorn and a hundred other feelings.
and then, with as calm a walk as ever, he walks over the corpse at her side to take the grail in hand. ]
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Sorry. I didn't mean to make such a mess. ... I just couldn't stand to hear him talk any longer.
[ Insulting her would be one thing, after all. She's more than earned Hikaru Kamiki's scorn a thousand times over. But insisting to the end that he's her one and only, spitting on the bond she's clawed out of the Throne herself?
It's repulsive. ]
But still. [ With a bloodied hand, she takes her skirt and in imitation of him - curtsies politely. A performer at her curtain call. ] I hope it was an entertaining performance.
[ Those are her final words before she slips easily, gratefully into the dream she's been granted. There's still no fear - just the buzz of anticipation, butterflies in her stomach and her chest. The most difficult part is over now, isn't it? Even an encore is never as gruelling as the main performance.
And anyway. She trusts the lead actor at her side with her life and more besides that. ]
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now, all that's left is to play his. to make his wish come true. to wipe the stage clean of those last stains of humanity.
with the grail in hand, full almost to overflowing - and yet not quite complete, still waiting on one last tainted drop - he turns towards her, smiles wide. ]
Ah, I've just had a wonderful thought! A perfectly fitting end to this sordid little tale. [ he speaks to her as if he didn't just drug her - as if she's capable of truly feeling the fear that should be running through her veins. (that would be, even like this, if she had a lick of sense.) ] What if I really did erase you from Proper Human History? An idol, beloved by all, so greedy as to wish for more... forgotten by every last human on this wretched planet.
[ it doesn't matter whether it's the truth. it doesn't matter that she won't fear a word out of his mouth. he's rehearsed each line a hundred times over, prepared since the moment she first saw his pathetic, wretched form hunched against her. he crouches down, reaches out. those beautiful, elfin fingers stroke at her cheek. ]
Wouldn't that be a perfect, tragic end for such a gullible Master?
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Her eyes drift back to his face and still, she's smiling. Her expression is soft and dreamy but her eyes are sharp and focused - she doesn't want to forget a moment of this. She'd fought and clawed and wrung herself dry for this ending. She won't forget a second of it, no matter how wretched our pitiful. ]
It would, wouldn't it? [ A laugh bubbles out of her. ] I don't even get the satisfaction of thinking anyone would mourn me. They'd all just move on like nothing ever happened. Maybe then they'd finally leave me alone.
[ She reaches up towards his face. His eyes really are so lovely, aren't they? Her fingers are too clumsy for her to do much more than brush his bangs back from his forehead and touch her thumb to his lips but her smile grows warmer, fonder as she does. ]
Why don't you give us both what we want, then? Now the Grail's ours. Grant my wish.
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