The snow outside still rumbled with the distant crack of violence—echoes of something breaking. And then something else.
Satoshi sat near the unconscious girl—Bonesaw—and tried not to think about the weapons EMIYA had stripped from her. Or the fact that another Nine member was out there fighting the closest thing this world had to a magic murder bodyguard.
Instead, he opened the tablet while Dragon's attention was on the fight.
It was simple enough. A few swipes through the administrative menus—classified, government-tinted stuff that shouldn't have been accessible, but apparently, the Company didn't believe in subtlety. Or firewalls.
A personnel dossier blinked open:
Name: Isshiki Satoshi
Age: 25
Nationality: Japanese
Occupation: Chef
Current Residence: Lincoln, Nebraska (temporary)
Immigration Details: Relocated following Leviathan's Kyushu strike
Companion of Record: Emiya Shirou
Relationship Status: Married
He blinked.
Wait. What?
Fingers suddenly trembling, he tapped open EMIYA's file.
Name: Emiya Shirou
Age: 27
Nationality: Japanese (Naturalized British Citizen)
Primary Residence: London, United Kingdom
Immigration Details: Accompanied spouse, post-disaster relocation
Current Residence: Lincoln, Nebraska
Marital Status: Married
Spouse: Isshiki Satoshi
Religious Affiliation (Marriage Certificate): Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (FLDS)
Documentation: Attached.
There was even a scan of a damn marriage certificate, complete with their names in flowery cursive, and a pixelated, smiling stock image of someone's wedding party—thankfully not theirs.
Satoshi stared at the screen.
He stared longer.
Then—He shut the tablet like it had personally insulted his ancestors.
"Shit," he whispered.
Ralts floated up from where she'd been curled up beside a groaning survivor, blinking blearily. She made a soft, inquisitive chirp and tilted her head to peer at the tablet's now-dark screen.
Satoshi dragged both hands down his face like he could scrub the embarrassment off his soul.
"Oh god. Oh no. He's going to kill me. Not literally, but emotionally. Verbally. With precision and probably judgmental eye contact."
Ralts blinked again and tilted closer, her horn pulsing gently in confusion.
He peeked down at Bonesaw—still unconscious, still tiny, still curled up like an angelic gremlin.
"Why couldn't it have just been mildly illegal refugee chef and emotionally unavailable bodyguard?" he hissed.
Ralts patted his arm, sympathetically.
"…Thanks," he sighed. "That helps. Emotionally."
He sat back, heart pounding like he'd committed tax fraud and identity theft at the same time.
Outside, the battlefield quieted. The tension in the air shifted, which meant EMIYA would be back any second now.
And Satoshi was not ready for this conversation. Not even close.
.
Everything was gray. Muted, deadened, wrong.
One moment Satoshi was staring at his hands—trembling, blood-streaked, covered in healing balm and ash—and the next, time lurched. Like the world had been rewound just a fraction of a second.
He blinked. The firelight dimmed. The wind stopped. He couldn't hear anything. Not even his own heartbeat. However, he felt the repetition. The same flicker. The same breath. The same twitch of Ralts' paw, over and over.
A time loop.
His blood ran cold.
No—no no no—
He stood too fast. Ralts gasped beside him, clutching at his coat as he stumbled forward, eyes wide. Not here. Not them. Not the injured—
"EMIYA!" he shouted, just as the world shattered. Color rushed back like a crashing tide—and so did the sound. The crack of displaced air. A crimson streak through silver mist.
And there, in the middle of the road, stood EMIYA. His bow still drawn and Gray Boy—dead. Pierced clean through the chest by a glowing lance that radiated finality. Not just death. Judgment.
The boy's body was small. Fragile. Empty.
Satoshi's breath caught.
He knew who Gray Boy was—what he'd done. The Company's files hadn't shied away from the truth. He had killed thousands. Trapped them in time loops. Tortured them forever... But he still looked like a kid.
Satoshi's hands clenched, and before he could think better of it, he stepped forward, fury rising hot in his throat.
"You didn't even try to talk to him," he said—sharp, raw. Not yelling, but close. "He looked like a kid, EMIYA—"
He stopped because EMIYA didn't react. Didn't flinch. Didn't even breathe, it seemed. He stood like a statue. Bow lowered now, but still in hand. Snow dusted his coat. His face was blank—not cold. Just... vacant. Like the body was here, but the soul had stepped out for a minute.
Like something inside him had shut the door and walked away.
Satoshi felt his anger falter. Stumble. Fold in on itself.
That wasn't victory on his face.
It wasn't even satisfaction. It was nothing.
He took a slow breath. Let it out, shaky. Then he moved forward—slowly, gently—like approaching a wounded animal, or someone sleepwalking through a nightmare. He reached out and took EMIYA's wrist. Warm. Tense.
"Hey," he said quietly, "It's going to be okay."
And before EMIYA could pull away, argue, or retreat behind those unreadable eyes, Satoshi stepped closer and hugged him. Not tightly. Not demanding. Just a loose, quiet wrap of arms around someone who needed to feel human again.
"I'm sorry you had to do it," he whispered into his chest.
EMIYA didn't return the hug or move, but Satoshi felt it anyway—that slight shift in the way EMIYA's breath caught. The smallest twitch in his arms. Like a man remembering how to breathe after forgetting what lungs were for.
He didn't answer. Didn't say a word just stayed in place and let himself be hugged.
Satoshi didn't let go right away. The snow kept falling—soft, quiet, uncaring—like the world hadn't just watched a child die. Like it hadn't just stolen something from EMIYA he didn't even realize was still there.
Satoshi's cheek rested briefly against his shoulder. The blood on EMIYA's coat was cold.
Still holding him, still gentle, Satoshi spoke. Not loudly. Not to the world. Just to him. Just close enough that his breath barely stirred the air between them.
"They gave us names, paperwork and a history," he murmured and felt EMIYA tense slightly.
"Lincoln, Nebraska. I supposedly moved here after the Leviathan strike on Kyushu. You're twenty-seven. I'm twenty-five. We met in London. Lived there for a while."
No response. Not even a twitch. Satoshi kept going, his voice a slow current. Soft. Careful. Like threading a needle through cracked glass.
"It's all very neat. Very legal."
Still no reaction. Just breath—measured and quiet. Satoshi paused because there was more he could say. One last detail that clung to the back of his throat, but EMIYA wasn't ready.
He could feel it—the edge EMIYA stood on. The silence wasn't peace. It was armor. And pushing too hard now would only break something fragile. So Satoshi didn't say it. Not the part about the marriage certificate. Not the part about how it was filed under the FLDS—a cruel, half-understood joke of a system that the Company had stamped into their digital lives.
Not yet. He just pulled back slightly. Still holding EMIYA's wrist. Still grounding him.
"We have a story now," he said quietly. "We're not just anomalies. That's something."
A faint sound escaped EMIYA—could've been breath, could've been nothing.
Satoshi stepped back fully, finally letting go. He didn't smile or joke. He just gave EMIYA space and stood beside him.
Not pushing.
Just there until the blankness on EMIYA's face went to that usual stoic, slightly exhausted look that said "I just killed a person but I'm emotionally over it."
"How is everyone?" he asked, tone clipped.
Before Satoshi could answer, Dragon did. "Before we continue, I require a formal identification. Civilian or cape name. For both of you."
EMIYA didn't respond immediately. His eyes flicked to Satoshi, waiting. Satoshi swallowed. "Cape name… Archer," he said quickly, pointing to EMIYA. "And I'm Isshiki Satoshi."
The drone whirred softly, scanning its internal database. "There is no active cape listing under 'Archer.' However…"
A pause. A click.
"There is a civilian identity: Isshiki Satoshi, Japanese national. Arrived in the United States one month ago. Immigrated following Leviathan's Kyushu attack. Profession: culinary arts. Married—"
Satoshi froze.
"—with one Emiya Shirou."
There was a silence. A long, cold, suffocating silence.
Satoshi slowly turned his head and found EMIYA staring at him.
No expression. No words. Just slow, almost mechanical head movement.
The weight of that look from EMIYA was like gravity—sharp, silent, and absolutely lethal. His lips pressed into a thin line. The faint twitch at his brow wasn't anger. Not yet. But it was a promise that there would be words, later.
For now, EMIYA turned back toward the drone and Satoshi did the same. They were both pretending very hard that Dragon hadn't just read off their marital status like it was a grocery list.
"Archer," Dragon repeated, as if filing the name into a new folder. "Not registered with the Guild, Protectorate, or Wards. No public debut. Underground or unaffiliated status?"
"Unaffiliated," EMIYA said evenly, voice perfectly neutral.
Satoshi could've kissed him. He didn't, of course. Mostly because he wanted to live.
"Noted. Last question," Dragon continued. "Your face. It's been logged in my system. Did you intend to keep a public identity, or was this unintentional?"
EMIYA blinked. He reached up and brushed his fingers over his cheek, as if just realizing he wasn't wearing any kind of disguise. And, Satoshi, trying to be helpful, offered softly: "It kinda fell off during one of the fights. You were a little… busy."
Dragon's voice didn't change. Still calm. Still polite. "If you desire, I can issue a temporary identity mask for non-registered field operatives."
EMIYA hesitated. Just for a second. Then he nodded.
The drone beeped once in confirmation. "Mask deployment authorized. Sending beacon to secure your visual ID now. ETA three minutes."
Then silence again. Satoshi nodded awkwardly and stepped back beside Ralts, who tugged on his sleeve with a small chirp. He looked down at her, then back at EMIYA.
Still no words. Just another look.
The drone pinged softly again, its lens flicking back to EMIYA before addressing them both.
"I have received updated information from regional PRT command. Reinforcements have entered the outer perimeter of the town. ETA: four minutes to trench. I advise you prepare for immediate contact."
Satoshi let out a long breath and almost sagged with relief.
"Finally," he murmured. "Real help."
Ralts chirped softly beside him, echoing his mood.
He nodded, rubbing a hand through his hair—dried blood, sweat, and stress making it all stand weirdly on end. "We'll hold until then. Not moving her," he added, gesturing to the unconscious Bonesaw. "Safer if she stays out cold."
EMIYA didn't respond, but he stood at ease now, swords vanished, posture straightened. He had that distant edge again—like he was already halfway analyzing the next ten minutes, just in case.
"I will notify the approaching team of your presence," Dragon continued. "They will arrive with both medics and containment personnel."
She paused. "You've both done more here than could reasonably be expected of a civilian."
Satoshi gave her a tired, grateful smile. "Thank you. For the warning, and… for everything."
There was a quiet pause from the drone, almost like acknowledgment. Then it hovered upward slightly, positioning itself as a beacon above the trench.
Satoshi looked out across the snow-covered battlefield.
The wind had died down.
The shelter was quiet again, lit only by the dim glow of portable lamps Dragon had deployed and the flickering fires from ruined buildings beyond. Satoshi had started to doze, Ralts curled beside him like a little weighted blanket of soft warmth and empathy.
Then he felt it: A shift. A breath. A small, raspy exhale.
He opened his eyes—and saw Bonesaw stir. The girl made a small sound as she shifted. Her hands twitched, then flexed. Her expression shifted from blank peace to groggy confusion. For a second, she looked… normal. Just a tired child waking up after a long nap.
Then her eyes snapped open. Wide. Unblinking.
Satoshi tensed, slowly rising from his spot as Ralts perked up beside him. Bonesaw's eyes darted wildly around the shelter, taking in the injured, the ruined biomechanical husks, and the survivors who were still being tended to.
She didn't scream, she just smiled a fake smile.
"Did I win?" she asked innocently.
Satoshi felt his stomach twist.
"No," he said softly, stepping forward. "You didn't."
She sat up, or tried to—then blinked, realizing her arms were bare. Her hands had been wrapped in cloth and bandaged where EMIYA had removed the surgical tools. Her smile faltered until she noticed Ralts. The little Pokémon floated forward slightly, cautious but curious, her red eyes shimmering. Her presence was calm, warm, gentle. A soft wave of empathic comfort radiated from her like the echo of a lullaby.
Bonesaw blinked at her.
"What's that?" she asked, sounding more fascinated than afraid.
"She's Ralts," Satoshi answered. "She's my friend."
"She's… not scared of me," Bonesaw said.
"She's scared for you," Satoshi corrected gently.
Bonesaw blinked again. Her mouth moved, but no sound came out for a moment. Ralts floated closer and placed a tiny hand on her bandaged wrist as she smiled. The girl flinched like she had forgotten how a positive touch felt—but didn't pull away.
Satoshi knelt beside them, watching quietly. "Do you remember your name?"
Bonesaw tilted her head. "I'm Bonesaw," she said. "That's what Jack calls me."
"…Do you remember what your name was?"
That gave her pause.
"…Riley," she said softly. "Riley Grace Davis."
Satoshi nodded. "Hello, Riley."
Ralts let out a soft hum and closed her eyes, sending another calming pulse through the space.
Riley now looked tired. "…Are you going to kill me?"
Satoshi shook his head slowly. "No."
She looked down at Ralts again. "...She's really warm."
Satoshi reached over and gently set down a thermos of warm water. "So are you. You just forgot."
.
.
.
Does anyone know Gray Boy's real age? I mean, he looks like a kid but he stopped his aging, I think? Like Bonesaw did in the future?
Also, if you want to support me and read chapters ahead, go to my p@treon: JorieDS