[Complete] Ch 6.1 Is it Wrong for a Sword to Remain Sheathed Against Injustice?

Is it Wrong for a Sword to Remain 

Sheathed Against Injustice?

Story Starts

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Chapter 6.1

The Gale’s Justice

Demands a Stakeout

Kaguya's shoulders finally relaxed as their Familia members filed through the doors of Stardust Garden.

The familiar scent of home hit her the moment she crossed the threshold—polished wood, dried flowers, and something earthy drifting from the kitchen. Three days in Rivira's ash and chaos had left grime in places she hadn't known existed, and her muscles ached from sleeping on hard floors whilst half-expecting another attack. At least they'd managed a bath at the crystal springs during their second day in Rivira. The very same spring where everyone's judgement had collectively lapsed, and they'd thought it a good idea to spy on their bathing neighbour—only to glimpse Emiya's scarred torso instead of whatever they'd been hoping for.

Astraea was in the living room—settled in the lounge with a cup of tea and a book, as composed as if Orario weren't tearing itself apart outside. Late afternoon light streamed through the windows, warming the walnut brown of her hair and catching the silver thread embroidered along her collar.

She'd already set the book down by the time her children reached the doorway. Her face brightened, and she rose to meet them with arms open wide.

Alise, Celty, and Maryuu reached her first. Kaguya had barely finished removing her sandals before the three of them were buried in Astraea's embrace.

Kaguya raised a brow as she approached the group. Alise had her nose pressed firmly into their Goddess's chest, nostrils flaring as she took in her scent. The red-haired captain's expression had gone slack with contentment, every scrap of her usual energy dissolving into something entirely undignified.

Kaguya brought her hand down on the back of Alise's head in a clean chopping motion and grabbed her by the collar, hauling her captain aside. Alise made sounds of protest—a garbled mixture of whining and indignation that Kaguya ignored with practised ease.

"Stop perving on our Goddess," she said flatly.

The other members took their turn within Astraea's arms, each receiving their own moment. Greetings of "we're home" filled the room—overlapping, exhausted, sincere. Kaguya hung back until the last of them had stepped away.

She was the final one.

"I'm home."

"Welcome home, Kaguya," Astraea said, soft and warm.

Kaguya closed her eyes. The tension she hadn't realised she'd been holding—three days of coordinating relief efforts, watching for Evilus operatives, sleeping in shifts—drained away in the space of a single breath.

Then she opened her eyes and turned to their pouting captain, who stood with her arms crossed.

"If only you exercised restraint."

Everyone laughed. Alise's pout deepened as she muttered something about favouritism that Kaguya chose not to dignify.

"Children, you have worked hard enough." Astraea's voice shifted to that particular tone—gentle but firm in a way that left no room for argument. "I have already informed Ganesha that you'll be taking today off."

Protests gathered immediately. Kaguya could see Ryuu's mouth opening, Alise drawing breath, even Neze shifting forward. Astraea silenced all of them by sweeping her gaze across the room, those starry indigo eyes holding each of her children in turn.

"Whilst the fight against injustice doesn't rest, your bodies need to." She smiled. "I heard you were all working almost the whole of the three days."

Ryuu's mouth opened again. Kaguya fixed her with a look sharp enough to cut, and the elf's jaw clicked shut. Her expression remained stubborn, but she held her tongue.

Astraea, of course, noticed. "Even your benefactor left Rivira early."

That was true. After the first day of aftermath, Shirou had left despite having invited them to stay at Emiya-ya. He'd explained that he still had a noodle cart on the surface and typically alternated between the two locations—early mornings spent diving the middle floors, the rest of the day selling noodles above, and every two to three days the trek back down to Rivira to open the izakaya. It was an impressively disciplined schedule, and it had answered Ryuu's earlier question about why a noodle merchant would leave his premises in the dark hours before dawn.

He'd left the keys to Emiya-ya with Alise.

Kaguya hadn't missed the real reason he'd departed, though. During that first night, Ryuu had barely slept. She'd spent hours watching Emiya's every movement—every trip to the kitchen, every glance toward the windows, every shift of his weight—cataloguing it all behind eyes that never quite relaxed. The atmosphere in the izakaya had been civil, even warm, right up until you noticed the elf in the corner who was treating their host like a suspect under surveillance.

Small wonder the man had found an excuse to leave.

"Goddess, you knew about us staying at Emiya-ya?" Ryuu's face had gone serious. She'd learnt, at least, to keep her voice level when discussing Emiya in front of the others. But Kaguya knew nothing had changed underneath.

Kaguya had already formed a theory about why Ryuu behaved this way, after a conversation with Celty two nights ago. She just needed to raise it with their Goddess in private.

Astraea smiled. "Yes, dear. Yesterday, Shirou brought another basket of pastries, and I invited him for tea."

Ryuu's composure cracked. "Goddess, that wasn't safe! He could have—"

'So much for keeping level.'

"But he was the perfect gentleman," Astraea continued, unperturbed. "He told me about your efforts in Rivira. He even accompanied me for grocery shopping, walked me to the orphanage, and helped me make dinner."

"He forced you to—"

"Nobody forced anyone, Ryuu." Astraea's voice remained gentle, but the correction landed. "I invited him."

"And if he has a deity of his own, he should be spending his time with them, not—"

"Ryuu, don't you think you should trust our Goddess's judgement?" Alise cut in. The pout had vanished entirely, her face warm and steady. Rare wisdom from their captain, delivered without theatre. Everyone in the room knew about Ryuu's suspicions, and it was clear she was the only one still actively speaking against Emiya. If too many of them piled on, it would feel like a tribunal rather than a family disagreement.

"Plus, look—our Goddess is safe, so it wasn't a problem," Lyra added, practical as ever. "And Emiya walking our Goddess through Orario is safer for her, given how things are out there lately."

Ryuu grumbled something about Emiya sticking to his own god or goddess.

Astraea gave her an understanding smile, then turned to address the room. Her expression shifted—something more solemn settling over her features.

"Please do not tell others about this." Her gaze moved across each of them, lingering until she received a nod of acknowledgement from every member present. When she was satisfied, she continued.

"I think Shirou is quite lonely here in Orario." Astraea paused, as though weighing how much to share. "And if I were to guess... he is currently without a deity."

The room went still.

Kaguya felt her composure slip before she caught it. She hadn't expected that. Celty's eyes widened. Neze's hand went to her mouth. Even Lyra, who usually took information like a wall took rain, blinked twice.

Without a deity. In Orario. An active adventurer—at least Level 2, given what they'd all witnessed—walking the Dungeon, fighting monsters, living and working without a god or goddess to anchor his Falna. No updates. No growth. No divine patron to vouch for him or shield him from the other gods who would trip over themselves to acquire a capable, unaffiliated adventurer.

The Guild's silence about his background suddenly made a great deal more sense.

Neze was the first to find her voice. "Why would he remain godless?"

Kaguya considered what she knew of Emiya. The man kept his cards pressed against his chest. He answered questions with half-truths and deflections, maintaining a polite distance that felt less like shyness and more like long habit. He wouldn't volunteer this kind of information willingly—and clearly hadn't.

Lyra voiced it before Kaguya could. "Emiya wouldn't be the type to share something like that."

Astraea's expression dimmed.

"I did speak with his adviser," she said. "She was quite guarded about Shirou's details, but I was given a basic profile—the sort any deity in good standing can request through the Guild."

Celty leant forward. "Goddess, what was in his profile?"

Astraea turned and walked toward the lounge. Everyone followed—instinctively, unconsciously—trailing after her in a line that would have looked comical from the outside. She bent over the table, retrieved her book, opened it to the bookmarked page, and creased the corner to hold her place.

From between the pages, she produced a piece of parchment and handed it to Alise.

Everyone crowded in. Kaguya hung back, watching their expressions shift from curiosity to confusion before her own curiosity won out.

"Huh?! There isn't much here," Alise complained, brow furrowed. "It's just his name, adviser, measurements, hair and eye colour—oh, I didn't notice his eyes were gold." She turned the parchment over as if expecting more on the back. "It doesn't even say his level."

Kaguya took the parchment from her captain's hands. The others protested at the loss, but she was already scanning.

Name: Shirou Emiya. Adviser: Rose Fannet. Physical measurements consistent with her observations. Hair: red. Eyes: gold.

That was it. No Familia. No level. No listed skills or magic. No record of Falna status. The parchment read less like an adventurer's profile and more like a physical description you'd give a sketch artist.

What wasn't on the paper told the story. A normal adventurer's file would list their Familia, their deity, their registered level, their developmental abilities. This one had been stripped to the bone. Someone—Rose, the Guild, or both—had ensured that anyone requesting Shirou Emiya's profile would learn nothing of substance.

Then Kaguya's gaze caught on the date at the top of the document. Fourth day of the sixth month.

She frowned.

'What happened around that time?'

Her mind worked backwards through the calendar—through missions and briefings and the steady drumbeat of Orario's crises. Something tugged at the edge of her memory. Something brief. Something bright.

A pillar of light from a distance. An event significant enough that Ganesha Familia had been dispatched to investigate alongside their own members. They'd combed the area and found nothing. No missing deities. No explanation. The incident had been filed away as unexplained and mostly forgotten in the flood of more immediate concerns.

Until now.

Kaguya locked eyes with Lyra. The prum moved closer, following Kaguya's line of sight to the date on the parchment. Her eyes narrowed.

"Do you remember, a few months ago, the bright light?" Lyra asked, her voice careful.

"The deity returning to Tenkai?" Alise's eyes widened. "But we investigated alongside the Ganesha Familia. No god or goddess was missing from Orario."

"No god or goddess from Orario," Kaguya corrected.

The distinction landed. Iska, Neze, and Maryuu bore confused looks, turning to each other for explanation. But Celty, Noin, and Ryuu had already followed the logic, their expressions darkening.

"It was his deity," Ryuu said slowly. The words dragged out of her as though each one weighed something. "His deity, from outside Orario, returned to Tenkai." Then her expression hardened. "But shouldn't we immediately seize him? Killing a deity is the greatest of taboos."

Astraea gave her a sad look.

Kaguya chopped Ryuu on the head. "You really are a useless elf!"

Ryuu clutched her skull, glaring. "What was that for?!"

"Ryuu, if he killed his deity, he wouldn't have an active Falna," Alise explained patiently.

Ryuu winced. The logic was irrefutable, and everyone in the room could see it. They had all witnessed what Emiya could do in Rivira. The sustained archery. The blade-arrows. The shot that had punched through a Level 4's shoulder. None of that was possible without a divine blessing running through his body.

"But his deity could have unlocked his Falna before he killed them," Ryuu said, quieter now. Defensive. Her tone already carried the admission that she knew where the counter-argument was heading.

"Why would a deity unlock their sole child's Falna? We are assuming he was the sole child, right? It does make sense as he is a solo adventurer—anyway," Kaguya said. "Unlocking means severing the connection permanently. No updates, no growth, no way back. A deity does that as a final gift, not as a prelude to being murdered by the person they just freed." She folded her arms. "Though we are making a lot of assumptions."

She turned to Astraea, seeking confirmation.

"Yes, much of this is assumption," Astraea acknowledged. "But it does fit. A solo adventurer, living alone in his own residence. I visited him there. I'm quite certain no deity occupies that place."

"And it wouldn't make sense for him to live separately from his Familia and deity if he had either," Lyra mused. "He could be running from his Familia, or he could have requested his Falna be unlocked and moved here independently."

Everyone nodded at that possibility. It was the most charitable reading—and possibly the most likely.

"Yes, that could be," Astraea said. "But I believe his situation may be precisely why the Guild—and likely Ganesha, who would have confirmed his status upon entering Orario—are so guarded about his information."

"He doesn't want another deity," Kaguya said. She thought again of that scar. "Or at least isn't looking for one."

"That was my thought as well," Astraea said. "Many gods or goddesses would leap at the chance to claim a Level 2 who can solo-dive to Rivira. The less information available about him, the fewer deities come knocking."

Alise's face fell. "But why would his deity leave him?"

The question settled over the room. Kaguya could see it in their faces—every one of them running the same terrible exercise. Imagining a morning where Astraea was simply gone. Returned to Tenkai without warning, without explanation. Just an empty lounge and a cold cup of tea where their Goddess used to sit.

The thought lodged in Kaguya's chest and refused to move.

"I couldn't say," Astraea replied softly. Then, reading her children's faces, she added with quiet firmness: "And I am certainly not planning to leave you."

The tension in the room eased—slightly, but not entirely. The question lingered.

"But if he was left behind, why isn't he looking for a god or goddess?" Noin asked. Her normally quiet voice carried clearly in the subdued room. "If he was abandoned, surely he'd seek another deity immediately. An adventurer needs their Falna updated to grow stronger."

Alise turned to face her. "What would you do if our Goddess needed to return to Tenkai? Would you immediately look for a deity to replace her?"

The silence that followed was answer enough.

"But still, wouldn't being left by a deity make someone angry?" Ryuu pressed. "Resentful? He should be—"

"You're projecting, Ryuu," Kaguya cut in. "And it doesn't look good on you."

"My child." Astraea moved forward and drew Ryuu into her arms, pressing the elf's head against her chest. "Orario is already a dark place. Must we darken it further with unfounded suspicion?"

Kaguya sighed at the stubbornness of the elf. Her thoughts drifted to what she and Celty had discussed two nights ago, during one of their patrols—separate from the stubborn elf.

She stepped forward. "It's fine to be alert and suspicious. I commend you for that."

She exchanged glances with Alise and Lyra—the subtle, wordless signals they'd developed over years of fighting together.

"Yes! Kaguya's right," Lyra picked up smoothly. "But if you focus too much on a single point—"

"You'll miss the blade coming from your blind spot," Alise finished. "Tunnel vision gets people killed, Ryuu. We need you watching everything, not just one man."

Ryuu's face crumpled. Her eyes glistened, tears threatening to spill as Astraea continued to stroke the back of her head.

"Why don't you rest for the day?" Astraea suggested gently.

Celty and Iska stepped forward immediately. "Come on, let's relax in our bath! I miss the hot water!"

"The crystals down there are pretty, but they're no substitute for a proper soak," Iska added, already steering Ryuu toward the stairs.

Ryuu rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. "I... I apologise. I didn't mean to—"

"It's fine," Kaguya said, softer than usual. "Just don't take things to extremes next time."

The others murmured agreement as the trio headed upstairs. The remaining members began to disperse—Alise and Lyra announced they wanted to do some shopping, and the rest agreed readily enough. Three days of emergency rations and rubble would make anyone desperate for normalcy, even if the one proper meal Emiya had cooked them before leaving had been better than anything they'd eaten in weeks.

"Take care and come back for dinner," Astraea called after them.

When the door closed behind the last of them, leaving only Kaguya and Astraea in the quiet of the living room, Kaguya locked eyes with her Goddess.

"Goddess, may we speak in private? I think I know the reason why Ryuu reacts so negatively against Emiya."

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Kaguya settled into the cushioned chair across from her Goddess in the small study. Astraea had led her here after the others dispersed, closing the door with a soft click.

Astraea reclined in her own chair, one leg crossed over the other, her posture relaxed yet attentive. She waited—unhurried, watchful—her indigo eyes steady on Kaguya's face.

'She probably already knows.' Most deities possessed an unsettling intuition when it came to mortal hearts. It would hardly surprise Kaguya if Astraea had already pieced together what she was about to say.

"We already know about Ryuu's negative views on elves in general, yes?"

Her Goddess nodded slowly. Everyone in the Familia had noticed it when Ryuu first joined—the way she stiffened around other elves, the clipped responses, the careful distance she maintained. It had taken months before Ryuu could even treat Celty with something approaching normalcy. And even now, around Riveria Ljos Alf, Ryuu behaved with mere politeness rather than the reverence most elves afforded the High Elf princess.

Astraea released a quiet sigh. "Yes. I surmised as much from the beginning." She steepled her fingers beneath her chin. "From the fragments Ryuu has let slip when her guard was down—it stems from her rejection of the elven superiority complex. That ingrained belief that their race stands above all others." Her voice softened. "I suspect it borders on disgust, though Ryuu has learnt to temper it over the years."

Kaguya nodded. That matched her own observations. But there was more to it now—something that had crystallised during their time in Rivira.

"Yes, but Goddess—a question. Do you feel anything different from Emiya?"

Astraea tilted her head, considering. A gentle smile curved her lips. "Shirou's soul is quite sympathetic. Very much like yours and all of my children."

Kaguya frowned. She hadn't expected that.

Her Goddess's smile widened at the confusion. "I'm guessing that wasn't what you were asking about?"

Kaguya shook her head, though the statement lodged itself and wouldn't leave. Astraea did seem to regard the noodle merchant with unusual warmth—more than mere neighbourly courtesy. And there was that archery of his. Kaguya wasn't a practitioner herself, but she'd seen enough practitioners to recognise the mindset.

What struck her most wasn't his stance—which resembled elven technique in its physical arrangement—but the spirit behind it. That solemn concentration, as if he were meditating. His face clearly showed a man who had already visualised the target being hit, simply waiting for reality to catch up.

It was kyūdō. Not the form, but the soul of it. He'd taken an Eastern discipline and transplanted its heart into a foreign bow.

"No, Goddess. But what do you mean by sympathetic?"

Astraea's expression grew fond. "There are characteristics in all of your souls that I find highly sympathetic to my nature as a being of justice. It's why I accepted each of you into my Familia."

"And you see the same justice within Emiya?" Kaguya couldn't keep the frown from deepening.

Astraea didn't answer immediately. She rose from her chair and drifted toward the window—the one that faced their neighbour's residence. The building stood there, well-maintained and far too large for a single occupant. A solo adventurer who could afford that when their own Familia still made monthly payments on Stardust Garden.

Kaguya couldn't entirely fault Ryuu for her suspicion.

When Astraea spoke, she didn't turn from the window.

"Shirou feels like someone heavily burdened by doing what's right."

She paused, and Kaguya realised her Goddess was choosing her next words with unusual care. Astraea was rarely hesitant. She could be gentle, diplomatic, even evasive when the situation called for it—but hesitant was not in her nature. Whatever she was trying to articulate, it troubled her enough to slow her down.

"After seeing him on the rooftops of Daedalus..." Astraea continued, her voice quieter now, "he felt like someone exhausted to his very core. Yet at the same time, he couldn't help himself from acting when someone was in need. As if he couldn't stand idly by whilst an injustice unfolded before him."

"But that's only for what's in front of him," Kaguya countered.

Astraea turned, her smile patient. "My child, are we not also simply solving the injustices that appear before us?"

"But Goddess—" The words died in Kaguya's throat. These were the moments when, despite being one of the more mature members of their Familia, she felt the gap between mortal and divine yawn wide enough to swallow her whole.

"Do we not ignore the hunger of those in need?" Astraea pressed gently. "Do we not turn away from those who live under tyranny in distant lands? I'm certain you're familiar with such compromises."

"Yes, but we cannot save everyone," Kaguya said. The words tasted bitter, and not because they were wrong.

"Yes. I believe that may be the crux of the matter." Astraea's gaze dropped to the wine glass she hadn't yet poured. Her hands were still at her sides. "From what I sense, his nature is truly troubled by that particular fact. Somewhere along his path, such ideals became... tainted." She paused. "Somewhere along the way, he accepted the limitations of his reach—even though that acceptance runs contrary to his very being."

Her voice didn't waver, but something in it thinned. Kaguya had heard that tone exactly once before—the night after a botched Evilus raid had cost them two weeks of intelligence and nearly cost them Asta.

"And somewhere along the road of doing his utmost... he simply grew tired."

Astraea turned back to Kaguya. Her eyes were dry, her expression composed. But the steadiness itself was the tell. When Astraea looked like nothing was wrong, something always was.

"I hope that my Familia will emerge from this dark age unmarred."

The words landed on Kaguya like cold water. Not because of what Astraea said—she'd thought the same thing herself, lying awake on Emiya-ya's hard floor during those three nights in Rivira. It was that Astraea had said it at all. Their Goddess who smiled through crises, who radiated calm when the world caught fire, who made each of them feel as though justice was not merely a struggle but an inevitability—

That goddess was afraid.

Not of Evilus. Not of the threats of stronger enemies or the rigged explosions or the supply routes being strangled. She was afraid of what the fight itself would do to her children. That they'd win—and come out the other side as something like Emiya. Alive. Capable. And tired down to the marrow.

Kaguya reached for the arm of her chair and gripped it.

Astraea moved to a small cupboard tucked against the wall. She withdrew a bottle of wine and two glasses, placing one before Kaguya and the other at her own seat. The liquid poured dark and rich, filling both glasses generously.

"Shirou reflects the weary soul of someone who has weathered tragedy." Astraea settled back into her chair, cradling her glass. "But I fear the worst is yet to come. When I look at that poor soul, I see my own fears given form." Her fingers tightened on the stem. "I think... if I could somehow relieve him of his burdens, perhaps I could help my Familia weather the approaching storm. Perhaps I can spare my children from emerging from these troubled times feeling crushed under the weight of doing what is right."

Silence settled between them. The afternoon light slanted through the window, drawing warm lines across the floor.

Kaguya stared at her wine glass. She thought of Alise's unwavering cheer—the way their captain could walk into a room full of despair and make it brighter by sheer force of will. She thought of Ryuu's fierce dedication that sometimes burned so hot it left scorch marks. Of Lyra's steady competence and Celty's gentle heart. Of Noin and Neze moving in lockstep, of Iska and Maryuu covering each other's blind spots, of Lyana and Asta who'd nearly been separated forever on a Rivira rooftop.

She thought of that scar over Emiya's heart.

She thought of what a person looked like after the fire went out but the duty remained.

'Not them.'

Kaguya stood.

"My Goddess."

Heat crept up her neck and into her cheeks. She was going to regret this. She was absolutely, categorically going to regret this. Alise did these declarations with natural theatrics. Kaguya did them under duress, during formation, surrounded by enough people that her embarrassment could hide behind numbers.

There were no numbers here. Just her Goddess and an empty study and the full, mortifying weight of sincerity.

"We do our duty! We balance the scales! Until the day we join the stars!"

Astraea's expression froze, her wine glass hovering halfway to her lips.

Kaguya's face burned. Every instinct told her to stop, sit down, pretend this had never happened. But she'd seen her Goddess's hands tighten on that glass. She'd heard the thinness in that voice. And if the only answer she had was an oath they'd all sworn together on better days, then she'd give that oath alone in a quiet room and mean every syllable of it.

She raised her glass high. "Like comets racing across the sky, we leave our starry trails on this earth wherever we go!"

Her Goddess stared at her. Kaguya pressed on, her voice wavering but refusing to break.

"This I swear—by the sword and wings of justice!"

Silence.

More silence.

An undignified snort escaped Astraea—the kind of sound no elegant goddess should ever produce. Then laughter bubbled up, bright and genuine, transforming her features into something radiant. Her eyes glistened—not from sorrow this time.

It was worth every shred of dignity Kaguya had just sacrificed.

Astraea rose, raising her own glass. Crystal met crystal with a clear chime.

"By the sword and wings of justice!" Astraea answered, her smile wide and warm and no longer afraid.

They drained their glasses in unison, the wine rich and slightly sweet as it burned its way down. Both exhaled in satisfaction.

"Thank you, Kaguya."

They settled back into their chairs as Astraea refilled the glasses. The weight that had pressed down on the room was gone—not solved, not resolved, but answered. Sometimes that was enough.

"I apologise for the digression," Astraea said, swirling her wine gently. "What was the matter you wished to discuss? You mentioned Ryuu and Shirou?"

Kaguya gathered her thoughts, the wine warming her chest. "According to Celty, Shirou projects something that draws elves toward him." She watched her Goddess's face carefully. "Celty says he feels like the forests they come from. As if Shirou had been blessed by the sacred trees themselves, or carried the essence of a forest spirit." She paused. "To an elf—according to Celty—Shirou feels like home."

Astraea's eyebrows rose.

"He does seem to maintain good relations with many elves, despite being human," Kaguya continued. "Even that Guild staff member who only accepts elves as her advisees—she seemed remarkably close to Shirou when she arrived with the Loki Familia to help with the aftermath in Rivira."

Both women took generous swallows of wine.

"I observed the Dionysus Familia gravitating toward him as well. And Riveria Ljos Alf herself didn't press him for details when he was being evasive about his background." Kaguya shook her head. "The High Elf princess, known for her exacting standards, simply accepted his deflection."

Astraea lifted her glass, studying the dark surface. "And you believe this quality—this feeling Shirou evokes in elves, reminding them of home—creates an unconscious bias in Ryuu?" She looked up. "Because Ryuu doesn't harbour positive feelings toward her homeland."

"Yes, my Goddess."

"This is quite curious." Astraea set her glass down, her brow creased. "I suppose such matters don't fall under my purview. Perhaps if I were a goddess of nature, I might recognise what the elves sense from Shirou." She sighed. "But this does pose a problem. Even if Ryuu tries diligently to dispel these feelings under advisement—"

"She won't be able to let it go fully," Kaguya finished, "until either she grows comfortable with him as she did with Celty—"

"Or Ryuu releases her disdain for elvenkind."

Another silence settled between them as they nursed their wine. The light through the window had shifted, growing warmer as the afternoon deepened.

Kaguya found her gaze drifting toward that window—and by sheer coincidence, Emiya chose that exact moment to enter the room across the gap between buildings.

He moved to a cupboard and retrieved a towel, then froze. His head turned. Their eyes met.

An uncertain smile crossed his face. He raised his hand in an awkward wave, executed a small bow in their direction, then pulled the curtains shut.

Kaguya took another sip of wine—then stopped, the glass suspended before her lips.

Something the elven Guild adviser had said in Rivira surfaced in her memory. A casual comment, easily overlooked amidst the chaos—though she certainly remembered the catcalls and whistles from the surrounding adventurers—

"Goddess!"

Astraea jumped, wine sloshing dangerously close to the rim of her glass.

"I think I have an idea." Kaguya wasn't entirely certain whether this was the wine talking or genuine inspiration. "Something that may remove all suspicions about Emiya."

Her Goddess leant forward, eyes bright with anticipation.

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Ryuu emerged from the bath feeling marginally more alive. The hot water had worked its way into muscles still sore from three days of combat and rubble-clearing, and the familiar scents of their bathhouse—cedar and soap and clean steam—had loosened something wound tight behind her ribs.

She wrapped a towel around herself and padded toward her room, water still dripping from the ends of her hair. The novel she'd been meaning to read for weeks waited on her nightstand. A whole afternoon of peace stretched before her—no patrols, no monsters, no suspicious neighbours with impossible archery skills.

Her thoughts drifted, unbidden, to red hair and golden eyes. To arrows that flew straighter than reason allowed. To that moment in Rivira when his shot had turned Vito's blade mere inches from her throat.

She owed him her life.

The knowledge sat in her chest like a stone she couldn't swallow. She'd tried, over the past three days, to fit it into the framework she'd built around Emiya—the suspicion, the watchfulness, the certainty that something about him didn't add up. A man who concealed his abilities. A man whose past was a locked door he smiled in front of whilst pretending there was nothing behind it.

And yet.

That same man had taken a shot that saved her life without hesitation. Not a calculated intervention—she'd replayed it enough times to know. There had been no pause, no weighing of options. He'd seen her about to die and he'd acted. The way someone did when the decision wasn't a decision at all, but a reflex built into the bone.

She'd watched enough people fight to know the difference between tactical aid and instinct. That had been instinct.

'So why can't I trust him?'

It wasn't rational. She knew it wasn't rational. Everyone in her Familia had accepted him—even Kaguya, whose caution Ryuu respected above anyone else's, had warmed to the man. Astraea herself apparently invited him for tea. The evidence pointed uniformly toward a strange, skilled, reclusive adventurer who went out of his way to help others and asked nothing in return.

And every time she stood within arm's reach of him, something inside her recoiled.

Not from danger. Not from any identifiable threat. It was subtler than that—a wrongness she couldn't name, like a note played slightly off-key in a melody everyone else found beautiful. Her companions relaxed around him. She tensed. They gravitated toward him. She pulled away. And the worst part was that she couldn't explain it—not to them, not to herself.

She was starting to wonder if the problem was her.

'Stop thinking about him.'

She pushed open the door to her room—

Bam!

The door slammed inward, nearly knocking her backwards. Astraea and Kaguya stood in the doorway, their cheeks wine-flushed, their eyes gleaming, their smiles identical and promising absolutely nothing good.

Ryuu's instincts screamed danger—real danger, the kind that no amount of combat training could prepare her for.

"Goddess? Kaguya? What—"

They moved as one, seizing her arms from both sides. Her towel, caught by the sudden motion, slipped free and pooled on the floor.

"EEEEEEEP!"

The shriek tore from her throat before she could stop it—high and undignified and utterly mortifying.

-=&&=-

Shirou adjusted the collar of his shirt for the third time, studying his reflection in the small mirror mounted on his wall.

The outfit was simple—dark trousers, a cream-coloured shirt, the sort of unremarkable clothing that wouldn't draw attention. He wasn't entirely certain what he'd agreed to. A meal with colleagues, perhaps. Rose had looked mortified when Sophie announced the plan, which suggested either that this was entirely Sophie's doing or that Rose had opinions about it she wasn't sharing.

Either way, he'd promised.

A sharp "EEEEEEEP!" pierced through the wall from the building next door.

Shirou paused. Tilted his head. Listened.

No sounds of combat. No crash of furniture or ring of steel. Just silence, followed by muffled voices that sounded more embarrassed than distressed.

He shook his head and returned to his collar. Whatever drama was unfolding in Stardust Garden, it didn't sound like the sort that required intervention.

The Astraea Familia could handle their own business.

He grabbed his wallet from the table, checked that he had enough valis for wherever Sophie had chosen, and headed for the door.

Behind him, through the walls, more muffled shrieking—this time joined by what might have been laughter.

Shirou closed the door firmly behind him and didn't look back.

-=&&=-

End

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