"Sigh."
Rei Ao let out a quiet breath, his gaze dropping to Tokiomi Tohsaka's body on the ground. He walked over.
"Foolish and stubborn as he was, he was still their father. Dust to dust, ashes to ashes."
He raised his hand again. A faint, equally pure true-crimson flame fell upon Tokiomi's body. The fire wrapped the corpse. There was no stench, no smoke—only a silent burn. In moments, Tokiomi's remains became a pinch of pristine, flawless white ash, which the cool morning breeze lifted and scattered into the soil of Fuyuki.
By then, aside from a few signs of struggle and a dark red stain on Tokiomi's suit, there was nothing at the Matou manor gate to suggest the fierce clash that had just decided several lives.
Rei Ao turned to Rin and Sakura Tohsaka, still clinging to each other, faces chalk white. The cold severity on his face ebbed, replaced by warmth and pity. He stepped up, crouched so his eyes were level with theirs, and spoke as gently as he could:
"All right. It's over."
"The threat is gone. That old monster will never hurt anyone again."
There was a strange, soothing steadiness in his voice. The girls' thundering hearts slowly calmed.
Rin looked up into Rei Ao's calm blue eyes, then down at her sister—still trembling in her arms, though the sobbing had quieted.
"Mm…"
Her nose stung. Big tears finally spilled over—grief for her father, relief at surviving, gratitude to Rei Ao, and a haze about what came next.
"Group Owner Rei Ao…"
She choked on the words, barely able to speak.
Sakura timidly lifted her head from her sister's embrace, violet eyes red and swollen like a startled rabbit's, sneaking glances at the handsome "big brother" who'd saved them.
Rei Ao reached out and gently ruffled both girls' hair. He smiled. "Don't be afraid. It's over."
"As long as I'm here, I won't let anyone hurt you again. Let's get out of here first."
His gaze slid over the manor's lingering gloom; something thoughtful flickered in his eyes. The traces of Makiri Zolgen had been erased, but the system of the Holy Grail War remained. The shadow over Fuyuki hadn't fully lifted. Those matters could wait.
For now, the priority was to steady two girls who'd just been through a profound trauma—and to consider how best to use the world-gateway that had opened.
…
Morning light finally burned the haze off Fuyuki's sky. Golden sun spilled across the streets, but it couldn't fully warm the fear- and grief-soaked hearts of Rin and Sakura. The brief, bloody clash at the Matou gate had seared itself into their memories.
Rei Ao looked at the two girls huddled together like frightened birds and sighed inwardly. He crouched again, his iridescent eyes holding a quiet, consoling power.
"It's normal to be afraid," he said softly, like snowmelt in spring. "Seeing something like that is far too heavy for you."
"If you need to cry, cry. It's okay. I'm here."
The words broke whatever brittle wall they'd been holding up. Rin's tears surged again, though she refused to sob aloud, shoulders trembling in silence. Sakura finally wailed, pouring out all her fear and hurt, her small body hitching with each breath.
Rei Ao didn't say more. He simply stayed with them—one hand gently patting Rin's back, the other smoothing Sakura's soft hair. He used no forced mind-calming. He let their emotions run and empty out. Some wounds must be released before they can start to heal.
After a long while the sobs faded to faint sniffles. Rin scrubbed at her eyes with her sleeve and lifted her head. Her eyes were puffy, but some of her usual resolve had returned.
She looked at Rei Ao, her voice still thick with tears but earnest. "Rei… Rei Ao-nii, thank you. If it weren't for you, Sakura would have…"
"No need to thank me. This was our deal," Rei Ao answered gently. "Now, you need to go home. Your mother has to know what happened."
At the mention of Aoi Tohsaka, both girls' expressions dimmed. How were they supposed to explain their father's death?
…
In the Tohsaka home's quiet, old-fashioned living room, Aoi sat in a daze before a breakfast gone cold. Tear tracks stained her cheeks; her eyes were empty. She was clearly still trapped in the rift that had opened in their family that morning.
When she saw a stranger bringing Rin and Sakura back unharmed, she jolted to her feet, a flare of hope in her eyes. But noticing there were only three of them—and the girls' blotchy, tear-streaked faces—her heart sank again.
"Rin? Sakura? And this is…?"
Her voice trembled as she looked at Rei Ao—an extraordinary yet unfamiliar young man. Who was he?
"Mom…"
Rin stepped forward and drew a deep breath. Some things could not be hidden. She kept it as brief and clear as she could: her father's obstinacy; Matou Zouken's sudden madness and betrayal; her father's brutal death; Rei Ao destroying Zouken and cremating and laying her father to rest.
Every word struck Aoi like a hammer. When she heard that her husband had been stabbed from behind by Matou Zouken, she let out a short, strangled cry. Her body swayed; she nearly fainted.
At just the right moment, Rei Ao released a thread of gentle mental strength to steady her, keeping her from breaking under the weight of her grief.