| A light rain had been pattering rhythmically against the panes of each window in the Emiya household for what seemed like all afternoon. It was overcast outside, to the point that the middle of the day felt a lot like it should have been the middle of the night. April showers had been heavy for the last week or two, even for the season, and the constant pelting of the rains had caused many of the sakura blossoms to drop early. Saber sat upright in bed. She was still in her pale yellow pajamas, despite the time of day. Her hair was unkempt, and flowing freely around her neck and shoulders. Her futon was still unrolled, and it seemed as though she hadn’t moved from that spot since the early morning. To her, there wasn’t any reason to move. Shirou had gone off to school again, leaving her behind, as he was wont to do. Sakura had come over to make breakfast, or at least, that’s what it sounded like from what she could overhear in the kitchen. Had that been the case, it was doubtful there were any dishes still to do, or any tidying up that was required in that part of the house. Saber had chosen to feign sleeping all morning, even at the expense of her usual three helpings at the breakfast table. Since she typically required large amounts of sleep, nobody questioned it when she chose not to meet them for the morning’s meal. In truth, her mind had been so crowded with other things as of late, that there was no room for things like hunger to permeate their way into her thoughts. What am I doing here…? She thought to herself, glancing down at her warm clothes and comfy looking futon. Being with Shirou hadn’t been her first experience in the Emiya household. In the previous Grail War, she had been the servant of Emiya Kiritsugu—Shirou’s surrogate father. It was only ten years ago, but it felt like a century. She thought back, back to the way things used to be in those days. Nowadays, she wore simple clothes when not in battle. Skirts, blouses, dresses…even pajamas. Kiritsugu wouldn’t have suffered her to enjoy such a luxury. If she wasn’t in her armor, she always wore a rigid, tight, uncomfortable, black business suit—this era’s excuse for ‘masculine’ clothing. She had lived the life of a man long enough not to be unused to such attire, but for some reason…this time around…she cringed at the thought of having to ever don an outfit like that again. Under Kiritsugu’s rule, Saber had done things that she’d like to forget. Whenever she thought about it, it reminded her of the way her life once was. She was a mighty king of yore, yes, but that title didn’t come without a price. Saber recalled a time where Shirou brought her a book about “The Legend of King Arthur,” in attempts to show her what the modern world thought of her. It was a bunch of useless, well-meaning tripe. The positive stories were ridiculously embellished, and the….other stories, were completely removed. After several hours of being lost in thought, Saber finally moved. It was just enough to glance at the window in her bedroom, to take note of the raindrops and the grey sky. Under such skies, “King Arthur” had razed villages and slaughtered commoners for the sake of unifying one nation under her rule. History had chosen to forget about all that, though, and to deify her as some sort of benevolent saint. The thought had never sat comfortably with her. “I don’t deserve that kind of treatment,” she spoke aloud to nobody, as she finally rose to her feet and began to wander about the house. Food would probably be a good idea right now, but she wasn’t in the mood for it. A bath, perhaps? No…too much effort. Eventually, Saber found herself standing barefoot in the grass between the house and the storage shed. Her wanderings had taken her outside, and she was apparently so distracted with her self-worth problems, she hadn’t taken notice of them until she began to feel raindrops soaking her hair and running down her cheeks. The other masters and servants had been quiet for too long. It bothered her. Combat was black and white to Saber. With a blade comfortably in her hand, she had a target to overcome. She could express herself and allow her emotions to run free. These quiet days didn’t sit comfortably with her, however…weren’t they the type of peace that she had been fighting for in the first place? Saber swallowed a lump in her throat and began to trudge back into the house. What was truly worrying her, was the thought that maybe it wasn’t just that conflict felt comfortable and familiar to her. Maybe what was really bothering her, is that conflict seemed to be something she enjoyed. |
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