The restaurant was a quiet one, tucked away in a part of the city where the war hadn't yet left its scars. Dim lights cast a soft glow over polished wooden tables, the scent of sizzling meat and warm broth filling the air. It was almost peaceful. Almost normal.
Shirō sat across from Rin and Archer, her plate half-empty, chopsticks idly stirring at a bowl of rice she had long forgotten. The food was good. She barely tasted it.
Her mind was elsewhere.
Illya's words still lingered in her head, echoing again and again, overlapping with the dull ache in her chest.
Kiritsugu Emiya.
Her father.
A man she had idolized.
A man Illya had hated.
A man she had never even truly known.
"You're brooding," Archer's voice cut through the silence, smooth and measured, the same way it always was. He took a sip from his tea, eyes barely lifting from his plate. "It's annoying."
Shirō blinked, then frowned. "I'm thinking."
"Same thing."
"Shut up," Rin muttered, stabbing at her food with a bit more force than necessary. "Let her be."
Archer didn't argue. He only leaned back in his seat, arms folded, expression unreadable. But Shirō could feel his gaze on her, studying her like a puzzle with too many missing pieces.
She set down her chopsticks. "I want to know."
Rin raised an eyebrow. "Know what?"
Shirō's hands clenched into fists beneath the table. "The truth about Kiritsugu."
Rin exhaled sharply, closing her eyes as if preparing herself. She didn't seem surprised. Maybe she had expected this.
Archer, however, smirked. A bitter, knowing smirk. "You sure about that?"
Shirō met his gaze. "Yes."
Archer placed his cup down with a deliberate slowness, as if weighing his words. And then, he spoke.
"Kiritsugu Emiya," he said, "was a mage killer."
Shirō stiffened.
"Not a hero. Not the kind of man little girls dream about when they think of knights in shining armor. He didn't fight for justice. He didn't save people because it was the right thing to do." Archer tilted his head slightly. "He was a murderer."
Rin shot him a sharp glare. "Don't be dramatic—"
"Am I wrong?" Archer cut in smoothly, and for a moment, Rin hesitated.
Shirō swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. "But… he did save people."
Archer gave a small, humorless chuckle. "Did he? Or did he just pick which lives were worth saving and which were worth throwing away?"
Shirō flinched.
"He wasn't just another magus," Archer continued, his voice steady but firm. "He was a man who hated magi. Who hated the system. And he didn't just fight in the Holy Grail War—he was a soldier long before that. A mercenary. He killed his own teacher. He slaughtered people before they even became a threat."
Shirō's hands trembled slightly beneath the table.
"He believed in the greater good," Archer said. "That sacrifices were necessary. That sometimes, killing a hundred could save a thousand. And sometimes, he decided those numbers himself."
She clenched her teeth.
The Kiritsugu she knew…
The man who had saved her from the fire, the man who had taken her in, the man who had taught her what it meant to be a hero—
This was the same man?
"But… he destroyed the Grail," she muttered. "Because it was corrupted. He did the right thing in the end."
Archer's gaze darkened. "Did he?"
Shirō looked up sharply.
"Do you even know how he destroyed it?" Archer asked.
Shirō didn't answer.
Archer leaned forward, voice quiet but cutting. "He didn't just reject the Grail. He didn't just walk away. He made sure no one could use it. He burned Fuyuki to the ground. He sacrificed thousands of innocent people to stop it."
Her breath hitched.
The fire.
The fire that had taken everything.
The fire that had left her alone, broken, dying.
She had always believed—no, she had known—that it had been caused by the Grail's corruption, by something beyond human hands.
But Archer was saying—
He was saying—
It was Kiritsugu's fault.
Her fingers dug into her palms. "You're lying."
Archer didn't even blink. "Why would I lie?"
Silence.
Shirō's head spun.
Kiritsugu Emiya.
The man who had saved her life.
The man who had caused the fire that killed so many others.
She felt sick.
Rin shifted uncomfortably. "It's not that simple," she said, as if trying to soften the blow. "He… He had to do it. The Grail was corrupted. If he had let it grant its wish, everyone would have died."
Shirō wanted to believe that.
She needed to believe that.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
The Kiritsugu Emiya she had admired…
Was he even real?
Or had she just been chasing a dream all this time?
Her hands curled around the fabric of her skirt, knuckles turning white.
But then—
A breath.
A slow exhale.
And clarity.
She opened her eyes.
"I don't care."
Archer raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
Shirō met his gaze, steady now. "I don't care what you say."
Archer tilted his head. "So, you choose ignorance?"
"No." She shook her head. "I choose to believe in what I know."
She placed a hand over her chest, where her heartbeat was still racing. "The Kiritsugu Emiya that I knew… He was a hero."
Archer's smirk faded slightly.
"The man who saved me," Shirō said, "was someone who cared about people. Someone who wanted to save lives, even if he couldn't save them all. Maybe he did terrible things. Maybe he made mistakes." She lifted her chin. "But he wasn't a monster."
Archer studied her for a long moment.
Then, he chuckled. "Hah." He leaned back, arms folding behind his head. "That's a very you answer."
Rin sighed, rubbing her temple. "Stubborn idiot."
Shirō smiled faintly.
She didn't care.
She had decided.
She would be different.
She wouldn't follow in Kiritsugu's footsteps. She wouldn't let herself fall into the same cycle of destruction.
She would be a hero.
But she would do it her own way.