Saberfes!

Chapter 191

Chapter 191

Crumbling marble floated, slotting into each crack perfectly like jigsaw pieces in a puzzle. White lines laced through the air, coordinating each movements as the walls and doors gradually restored themselves. In mere seconds, the massive holes in the main foyer disappeared, smooth and untouched just like before.

The white familiars reformed from the spread out lattice of wires, burrowing into her hair and returning to their nesting place in their masters snowy tresses.

"The guests have reached their quarters and are currently resting."

There was note of hesitation that anybody else would miss, but Illya had lived with Sella long enough to pick out the inconsistencies in her pitch.

"Is something amiss?"

"Ah, Saber insisted on staying with her Master. They await you in your room."

"I see."

It wasn't a problem if she was present. In fact, it was actually more convenient, since she wanted to ask Saber some things as well.

When she opened the doors to her room, both Master and Servant were peeling mikan (tangerines), snug in the kotatsu as they sipped warm mugicha (barley tea) from white ceramic tea cups rimmed with gold.

"So you peel the skin off like this, so it comes off as one piece, then it becomes easier to throw away later, and it doesn't make a mess either."

"I understand, to think there was such an ingenuous method for peeling fruit. I will apply myself wholeheartedly to acquiring this skill."

Behind them, Berserker lounged on the bed, headphones blasting music into her ears as she read a book. From a distance, Illya could just make out the words 'Mortalis:stella' on the cover. Since when was Berserker interested in Latin?

Setting down her hat next to her, she slid into the kotatsu feet first and rested her chin on the table while closing her eyes, letting the warmth permeate her body and soak into her bones.

Wait, this isn't the time to be resting! Why is he using my kotatsu with his Servant?? Where did the fruit even come from?

Her eyes snapped back open, but before she could yell at Shirou for using the kotatsu without permission, a perfectly peeled mikan slid in front of her.

"Here you go, I can peel some more for you if you want."

Faced with his guileless smile, she could only close her mouth and accept the offering quietly, chewing on the tart sweetness of the orange fruit the juices wet her throat.

While she munched on the mikans, she mused on how to start the conversation with Shirou. There was just too much to go through. Should she ask about the fire? The night her father, and his adoptive father died? Not to forget, the way he abused his body almost daily, or that strangely vivid high-jump practice? In that one session of memory extraction, she had become intimately familiar with him on a level that even aged couples were hard-pressed to achieve, but so what? Who was she going to punish for taking away her father? After seeing his life, she couldn't make him the target of her revenge anymore. There just wasn't any point. She had felt his emotions too, on the porch under the moon.

Like it was her own memory, she had experienced everything, watching her own father smile peacefully as Shirou said those words, bowing his head as if he were simply going to sleep. Immediately, tears began to well at the corner of her eyes as the bittersweet pangs buried in her heart convulsed, mixed with the impressions of Shirou's own sorrow buried in that moment. She lowered her head a bit to hide her expression, her lower lip trembling as she swallowed the mikan with a lump in her throat.