Fate: Treasure

Jun skipped up the steps to the front door of his home. He took a moment to breathe the crisp evening air before sliding open the shoji, the wood moving smoothly in the rivets and the paper shaking creating a nostalgic sound that invited him in. He made sure to remove his uniform shoes and place them in line with the other sets against the wall. The feel of the tatami under his feet was another welcome memory, having become accustomed to the rugs and wooden floors of Clocktower.

A familiar face greeted him with a faint, yet warm, smile as he entered the sitting room. The woman rose slowly in her kimono and wrapped him in her arms, her long black and white hair falling around them like a curtain.

“Okāsan!” He returned the hug, his mother’s sakura perfume tickling his nose.

“Jun-chan, you’re early,” she teased. “We weren’t expecting you for another hour.”

Jun’s laugh was more reminiscent of a sigh. “Okāsan, where else am I going to go?”

His mother pinched his cheek. “As punishment, you have to help us finish making dinner,” she said through pursed lips. She quickly shuffled into the next room, waving for him to follow her. He smiled and followed, rubbing his reddened cheek.

It had been a while since he had made home cooked food with his mother, but he was happy to do so. He rolled up his button up sleeves and followed her lead. His family had servants of course, and they often made most of the meals, but his mother always insisted on cooking herself when it came to special occasions. The dough and fillings were already prepared, so he assisted his mother in folding the filling into the little round disks of dough to create one of his favorite dishes, gyoza. He smiled.

“You didn’t have to make me gyoza, you know. I’d be happy with something simpler for you to make.”

“Ata!” she scoffed, smacking the back of his head with a delicate hand covered in flour. “My son comes home and you expect me to not make his favorite dinner?” She continued to mutter insults in Japanese as she folded some more gyoza, placing them on the plate next to Jun’s. They were perfect compared to his, pristeenly folded with no holes or deformities. He let his mother take over frying the meal, not that she would have let him anyway.

“It smells wonderful in here, yome,” a deep voice hummed. A tall man stood in the doorway to the kitchen. His broad shoulders filled out his yukata; his hair matched his wife's - long and black with white streaks down the sides - and was pulled up into a messy bun.

“Domo, otto,” his wife replied.

Jun stepped back from the counter and bowed to his father. “Otōsan.”

“Jun, it is wonderful to see you home again.” He said, placing a hand on his son’s head.

“Is Miyu here?”

His father hesitated. “I do not think she will be joining us tonight. She is… too invested in her training to hear my voice.”

Jun sighed. This again. He understood why she wanted to train so hard. Being born into a mage family with barely any magic circuits is hard, but she doesn’t have to do this to herself. She’s going to hurt herself. “I’ll talk to her after dinner.”

They sat at the kotatsu and ate. His mother asked if he was eating well at school, to which he assured her he was, and his father inquired into his studies. He told his father about the dragon body that Clocktower allowed him to study, and how he was writing his thesis and creating his final project on that very dragon, receiving a nod of approval. But through it all, he couldn’t stop looking out the inner window into the Tsubo-niwa. He could faintly see his sister through the shrubbery and flowers, repetitively raising her weapon and bringing it down on the training dummy with swift precision. Finally, he excused himself from the table, stacking his plates and taking them to the kitchen.

He borrowed a pair of the servants’ outdoor slippers and followed the gravel trail through the interior garden. He could hear his sister’s movements. Shuff, shuff, slide, thud, in the gravel. Tak, tak, swish, thud, of the weapon on the dummy.

He placed a hand on her shoulder, her movements freezing mid swing, proving her expertise with the blade. Faster than he could see, the bokutō’s point was inches from his nose. He raised his hands in surrender. His sister’s black hair fell loosely from her bun, a single white strand between her red eyes.

“Jun, what’re you doing out here?” She sounded winded. He hid a smile at the thought of him having scared her.

“Dad said you’ve been at this for hours. He talked to Mom about it as well, and they’re worried. Your food is wrapped up for you to eat.” He slid his hands in his pockets with a shrug, trying to sound aloof. He shifted his gaze to the window he had been watching her from during dinner, and then back to the training dummy. It was in need of some serious repair. “You missed dinner.”

“Oh.” She lowered the wooden training weapon and shifted to straighten herself. She had gained some muscle since last he had seen her. How hard was she pushing herself? He suppressed a shiver as he felt her piercing eyes analyze his own lacking body. He was never very good at any of the extra curricular sports at Clocktower, so he opted for fully immersing himself in his studies to make up for it. But seeing her now, in person, she could kill him easily if she wanted. Not that she would…

He remembered when they were young, when they would play together as children. They would often team up against other children, he was the strategist, the plan maker, and she would bring the plan into fruition. He could never have won any of those childish competitions if it hadn’t been for his twin, his closest friend. He wondered if they still had that bond after all this time.

He cleared his throat, trying to break the silent tension.

“Well, I’ll head inside in a moment. I just need a few more drills to put in.” Miyu turned away from him, but he placed a hand on hers before she could raise the bokutō again. He noted the calluses on her hands and the scars on her arms; evidence of her intense training. His jaw clenched in anger that she would put herself through this. For what? For the family? She didn’t need to prove to them, or to herself, that she was worthy of their praise. She was the most proficient and self motivated person he knew, it didn’t matter if she had less circuits than him, he looked up to her dedication.

“Miyu,” he pressed, “come inside and eat. It’s really late.”

Her eyes narrowed as she stared at his hands. She was stubborn, and for some reason he loved that about her.

She shrugged off his hand and grinned at him. “Just because my Jun-chan~ had to eat so early doesn’t mean I have to. Go inside and get ready for bed, m’kay? I’ll be there in a bit.”

Jun grit his teeth at her use of his mother’s nickname. “I-” he sighed and let go of her hands, “fine, I will see you inside later.” He walked back to the edge of the garden and glanced over his shoulder at his sister. Maybe there was something else he could've said.

She raised her hand and shot a vulgar gesture at him. He scoffed to hide a laugh and rolled his eyes as he stepped back inside the house. Tak, swish, tak, of her training cut off by the closing of the shoji. He sighed tiredly. He’d talk to her tomorrow, but for now, he’d have to study. He took his bags to his old room and readied his notebook and pen.

Jun and Miyu sat in the family meeting, with several of their relatives sitting down at the kotatsu together, and their mother at the head of said table. Miyu shifted in her irotomesode trying to adjust the fabric under her. Jun shot a glare at her but his father made a more impactful stare. He resisted the urge to fidget as well; it had been a while since he had to wear such traditional clothes.

“The longer dragons are extinct in our world, the less magic circuits our family can acquire. We need to think of a way we could bring the dragons back to our world.”

The magic circuits of dragons are infinitely more powerful and intricate than human magic circuits…

“A Holy Grail War has been spoken about amongst certain mage circles. Maybe that may be our best opportunity.”

… however, through many alternative options such as bathing in the blood of a dragon, consuming the heart of a dragon, having a dragon ancestor, and etcetera, a mage may acquire similar magic circuits to that of a dragons’.

“It will be in a few years’ time, and we do not know the state of the family affairs at the time. Or what will become of the family as it dwindles. I feel that our best bet would be to send the future Head of the Family.”

Jun stiffened, his breath caught in his throat almost causing him to choke at the thought of joining a Holy Grail War. He wasn’t ready. He wasn’t prepared for a fight of that magnitude. Sure, he could support a servant easily, maybe two if necessary, but if a mage decided to single him out in a fight?

He clenched his hakama in his fists, trying to soak up the cold sweat forming on his hands.

If a mage is able to harness such magic, then they would be able to wield some of the most ancient magic known to mankind.

Before Jun could say anything, Miyu bowed her head and spoke.

“Let me accompany my brother in this endeavor.”

Silence. Jun turned to her in shock, lips parting in wordless confusion. She continued.

“I may not have the proper mana to support the servant in any way that is truly meaningful, I can still offer my own support in the little mana I do possess. Alongside that, by the time the Holy Grail War comes around, I will have completed my training and could become an adequate guard for my brother.”

Miyu lifted her head to lock eyes with their mother. Jun’s heart beat heavily in time with his twin’s.

Having just the bloodline is not enough to access such powerful magic, unfortunately.

“Please let me protect our family’s lineage and future Family Head in any way I am able to.”

One must also find a way to unlock the metaphorical doors that separate mage from dragon.

“I believe that it is a proposal worth considering. Continue your training, and we will take a look at this once more as the time draws nearer to the Holy Grail War.”

For example, reaching the Root.

Jun’s pen dropped from his hand making a quiet thud against the paper. He groaned as he leaned back in his chair and swept his hands through his hair.

The Root. Like that’s going to happen without a Grail; but they need a Grail to bring back the dragons, and you need a servant to get a Grail, and power to get a servant, and you need to live to see it all through.

He stared at the ceiling, following the flow of the beams that held it together; Criss-crossing and pressing into one another in perfect synchronicity.

I wouldn’t be alone. I have Miyu.

Why did she do it? Why did she insist on coming? He knew about her affinity for throwing herself into danger without thinking of the consequences and he knew she did too. Did she have a death wish!?

He breathed a heavy sigh and leaned toward his rough draft thesis.

Still. He was… not happy, but he was glad he wouldn’t have to do this alone. His sister would be with him every step of the way, and he was going to make sure of it. Nothing would take her from him.

It is important to note that a mage should not attempt such a practice alone.

Assistance is always necessary to complete world changing events.