Interlude 3: Across the Worldly Divide

“SHIROU!” Fujimura Taiga kicked open the door, heedless to the mark her heel had left in it many times before. “Your big sister is here to check in on you!”

Taiga wasn’t actually Shirou’s older sister, mind you. She knew that, he knew that, and all the adults around them both knew that. But to Taiga, Shirou was still the quiet, almost empty little boy who’d moved into the house next door, and needed someone to drag him out of his shell. So she’d decided to be his big sister, no matter what else happened.

…the fact that being family let her mooch off Shirou’s impressive cooking skills was just a bonus. And, since Shirou was alone again at home tonight, coming over so he didn’t have to have dinner alone was just common sense!

As she kicked her shoes off, Taiga frowned. She could smell something steaming, but Shriou hadn’t responded to her call yet. Which was… weird. Shirou never left any pots alone on the stove, not after the last time Kiritsugu tried to ‘help’ prepare dinner while his son had been off getting something out of the storeroom. Coming back to find the tenderloin he’d been preparing burnt into a hockey puck had taught Shriou to guard his kitchen carefully.

As she walked down the hallway, Taiga’s brow furrowed. Tendrils of burnt oil touched her nose, which was something she’d expected Emiya-san to do, not Shirou. Was Shirou okay?

Turning the corner to enter the kitchen, Taiga blinked. The kitchen was laid out for a meal, rice cooker set, vegetables washed, and stove heated. But there was no sign of Shirou. Instead, a small green creature, something like an onion with a pair of tiny fairy wings, was carefully turning off the stove. The little creature fluttered in place for a few moments, before turning and drifting towards the cooker, humming softly.

“What–” Taiga said, shocked. At her voice, the little bug-thing squeaked and spun to face her.

“Cel-e-bi?” It chimed in shock, before a look of embarrassment appeared on her face. “Oh dear, you didn’t see me!” The little creature snapped her fingers, only to pause and blink as something didn’t work.

“Yeah, I see you!” Taiga yelled.

“...okay, that should’ve worked. How stubborn are you?” The little creature chirped nervously. “Or have you been hypnotized before?” There was a pop, and the little creature peered into Taiga’s face from close range.

“What– get out of my face!” Taiga growled, reaching out and jabbing one finger into the creature’s nose, sending it back with a peep. “What are you doing in Shirou’s kitchen?”

“I’m doing him a favor that he hasn’t earned yet but will,” the little creature explained, shrugging. “He will want me to make sure his house doesn’t burn down.”

“Well, that’s good– wait, that doesn’t make any sense!” Taiga flipped from mollified back to angry in a hurry. “Why can’t he come and take care of it himself? And what do you mean he hasn’t earned it yet?”

The creature blinked. “You aren’t authorized to know that information, miss. I apologize.”

“Authorized?” Taiga growled, stepping closer. “That’s my little brother you’re talking about! Now talk! What have you done with him?”

“I uh… really can’t say without the big boss giving the okay. They aren’t exactly keen on letting outsiders know… Ah, I can tell you that your little brother is safe and happy though! And he’ll continue being safe and happy!” The little fairy looked around, waved one hand, then gave a smile. “Well, it’s too early for there to be a dimensional leak, so… bye!” She vanished with another pop.

Taiga blinked rapidly, then scrambled for the nearest set of stairs. “SHIROU??”

It’d be a few days before her grandfather believed her story, after several calls to contact Kiritsugu failed and reports came in of the collapse of the Matou mansion and the disappearance of the Tohsaka heiress. But despite his efforts, no trace could be found of the missing young man.

As for Taiga, she mourned the loss and started training, to beat up the next fairy she saw. And her efforts bore wonderful, if very strange, fruit. But that’s a story for another time.

--(0)--

Gilgamesh, King of Heroes, was… not bored. For once.

Sitting back and idly tossing another honied almond into his mouth, the (possibly former) God-King–

“I am still very much a ruler, scribe. Describe me properly.”

-right, yes. Gilgamesh was humming thoughtfully as he peered through the breadth of worlds, looking upon the formerly uninteresting children which had been plucked out of his garden by an outsider God. Chuckling wryly as he watched a once-empty man slaughter supposed nobles, Gilgamesh enjoyed the entertainment his magnificent gaze allowed him, and him alone, to witness.

“Ah, your majesty. Is something interesting happening?” The near flat voice of his most recent jester asked, turning around to face his king as he finished checking on the batteries currently sustaining his king’s existence. Kirei Kotomine was a passable servant, and better yet, was fully willing to bow to his king’s edicts without question, while his measured cruelties had provided some distraction in the past.

Gilgamesh smirked, deciding to feed his servant some of his knowledge. “Oh, I have found your former idol and rival. And your ward, and his. And others beside.”

For a moment, the jester seemed dumbfounded, before he nodded, “I see. Should I change the cover stories to account for them being alive instead of dead?”

“Hmm.” Gilgamesh tilted his head. “It would not forestall the investigators which are on their way… and when, or if, Emiya and the children return, it would cause more headaches to all of them if they are believed to be dead.” Gilgamesh popped another almond into his mouth, then sipped at his wine. “I believe I will leave the decision up to you. Either way, this will lead to events developing in ways I did not foresee, and that is wondrous.”

“...I see.” Kirei gave one of his mocking, fleeing smiles. “I’ll see to it that I make Tohsaka’s possible return as tricky as possible.” He turned and walked out.

“When you invite the Edefelts, do it on the condition they send their daughters,” Gilgamesh advised before he returned to his cross-dimensional observation. “...at least this Arceus does not grate on me like the gods of old. And to so decisively thwart the efforts of The Counterforce, yet restrain itself from meddling directly… hmm.”

Well, it’s nice that you believe I am better than Ishtar, though I doubt she is truly as bad as you believe she is, little king.

“...still a meddler, though.” Gilgamesh sighed. His ability to watch this marvelous entertainment was dependent on that selfsame god keeping a metaphorical door open; slightly irksome, but not wholly intrusive. Ultimately bearable.

Especially given the god’s power. There were not many beings, after all, that left the Hero-King legitimately terrified, even if for a fraction of a moment.

Putting the dark thought out of his mind, the King of Heroes leaned back, casting his gaze off the other world and onto the befouled treasure beneath Fuyuki, considering his next moves. While the future was, as always, in flux, one of his stature could easily read the shifting threads of possible timelines and work out which were possible. Discarding those which were obviously immaterial (such as those where he failed) allowed him to find those which offered the most pleasure.

But having four of the most important players in the next round of entertainment suddenly cast adrift had thrown everything into flux. All the better, in many ways; it got boring treading ground already mapped. It did, however, mean reclaiming the Grail might actually be in doubt. Already, he could see the myriad of possibilities lying before him, and it was glorious. So much potential entertainment, so much chaos, and so many possibilities!

Especially seeing as how the foulness is panicking over his potential host and puppets being ripped away from its influence. It will be amusing to see what it does in response.

For the first time since the death of his one friend, Gilgamesh of Uruk raised a toast in honor of a god.

--(0)--

“Back from your visit across the Divide, Team Pathfinder?”

It was a familiar voice; warm and kind, that greeted “Sky” and “Time” as they appeared from whence they had come, across the Great Divide that had sundered their world in a time long since past. Shaking off the minor discomfort associated with the specific brand of spatial displacement that the Expedition Society’s badges used, “Sky” smiled back towards the ‘mon that had spoken to them, a wide smile on her muzzle as she greeted the Eeveelution standing across from them.

“Hello, Guildmistress Primeon. We are. I assume you’d like a full report?” The Eevee answered brightly yet professionally, standing at attention as she nudged the Pikachu standing beside her; he’d always had more trouble with the brief sickness associated with the Great Palkia’s blessings, and she didn’t exactly want to look bad in front of one of her idols.

“We were, unfortunately, partially unsuccessful,” Time sighed tiredly as he shook himself out of the momentary disorientation that seemed to come with every use of his badge. “Would you prefer a verbal debrief, or should I write it up for the records and you read it later? I wouldn’t want to take too much of your time, ma’am.” His ears twitched, a tiny crackle of electricity dissipating as he huffed in annoyance.

With a hum of consideration, the former Explorer briefly considered “Time’s” question, before sighing harshly, seemingly rather put out. “Please submit a written report later, Team Pathfinder. Sadly, much as I would like to personally hear your recounting, dealing with the… ramifications of First Contact with the World Beyond is taking much of my time; I have a meeting with several members of the very people I requested you assist shortly. Likely to discuss the fallout of their enemy’s most recent movements.”

“Understood.” Time snapped up a quick salute, resolutely ignoring his partner’s snickers. “Come on, friend. We can write our reports over supper, unless you have plans.” He spoke to his partner, who quickly snapped a salute of her own as she turned, headed towards the mess hall.

As the two of them descended, Time’s steps slowed. “...the Precog Council didn’t mention this ‘Team Flare’ being exposed so early in their visions. I know Future Sight can be untrustworthy at times, but this seems to be a glaring change. Thoughts?”

“Prophecies have always been fuzzy, and very prone to being flat out wrong when a sufficiently powerful being, or faller, intervenes. After all, until they adapt to our world, they’re not bound by anything resembling ‘fate’. Nor can the more mathematical prediction account for unknown variables,” Sky mused, tilting her head to the side as she pondered the question while walking.

“Okay, so either one of the divine or an outsider is getting involved. Possibly,” ‘Time’ acknowledged. “I think I’ll recommend they send a Porygon next time. There’s a lot of info in the Human realms which we can’t access without their tech.”

“That or someone with fingers,” Sky fired back cheekily, ducking under a half hearted swipe from her partner’s tail at her temerity.

“That’s fair,” Time allowed after a few moments of fruitlessly trying to hit his partner, before the two reached the mess hall. The Pikachu scowled at the throng of bandanna-clad ‘mons blocking his way to the counter, hopping into the air and blurring across followed by his partner, precise control of quick attack letting him cross the distance without effort. “I know we were this green once too, but I don’t remember bragging this much,” he groaned as he eyed a group of starried-eyed youngsters gathered around a bragging Clefable. “And I was always too hungry to talk after a mission to stand around talking.”

“Well yes, that’s because unlike that jock, we don’t have an ego the size of the sun.” Sky deadpanned at her partner, sighing as he showed off, again. Seriously, it was almost like he had an ego or something…

Oh wait, he did. Not that Time didn’t deserve to have an ego, given all that they’d accomplished together, but still, sometimes, he could be quite oblivious.

… Honestly, it was kinda cute at times.

“...maybe I’m being unfair. Or getting old,” Time sighed, turning away and trotting over to the counter. “Or both.” He raised a paw to the Smeargle behind the counter. “Grepa and Razz curry, with extra flatbread and a Nomel smoothie, please.” He ordered, producing a coin case from his satchel. “Sky, I’m paying for this one, what’s your order?”

“Tamato berry curry with rice and water, please.” She requested, before pausing, “Seafood instead of poultry or other meats, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“No problem,” Smeargle acknowledged, looking back and waving to the rest of his kitchen crew. Within minutes, two heaping plates slid to the partners.

The two dug in as their meals came, Time pulling out a quill to work on his report. “Let’s see… Flare found, overarching goal recognized, possible outside interference…” His paws blurred as he wrote out the action report. “Any other details you think we need?”

“There’s a lot of fallers on the other side, right now, compared to what both our ‘worlds’ are used to.” Sky mused, pausing her feasting momentarily to fulfill her duties as team leader, “Additionally, Interpol found out about us because we blundered, and there are things from our side bleeding over to the other side, somehow. Remember that news article I was in shock about?”

“Oh, right, the ruin.” Time flipped to another page and wrote down the facts. “Hey, we’re still on good terms with Palkia. Why don’t we ask THEM how that happened?”

Sky considered the question for a few moments, before shaking her head, “It’d take too much time to get to the end of that specific dungeon to ask THEM what’s going on, especially given how likely it is that we’ll simply be told that ‘you’ll figure it out eventually.’ You know how the legends like to operate, Time.”

“I do. Still wouldn’t hurt to ask, if we have time.” At his partner’s giggle, the Pikachu looked up with a deadpan. “You know what I mean. By all the gods, I hate these codenames sometimes.”

“Sky” shrugged, “Well I’m certainly not going to refer to you by your personal name. Do you know how mortified I was when someone told me how rude it was to constantly do that in public?” Pouting, she huffed and turned her attention back to her food, “And you hate it when I refer to you by Pikachu, because ‘we’re too close for that’ so deal, buster.”

As the pair of former Explorers descended into idle banter on a rather old topic, the Guildmaster sighed elsewhere, coming out of her meeting with Interpol aware of so much more, and yet with her questions largely unanswered, perhaps only increased.

No one, after all, knew what Arceus’ hand had set in motion with THEIR actions those precious few months ago, and now, enemies old and new would come. A Darkness moved across the divide, memories in tatters yet purpose remembered. Lysandre plotted, accelerating his plans far beyond what the Hand had predicted, his insanity coming to fore all the faster with something so ugly (by his perception) interfering with his plans so. And a continent away, Ghetsis plotted, his plan accelerated and hindered in equal measure by the unwitting actions of so many, and yet at the same time so few…

Nothing would remain the same, from here on out. After all… Fate can be changed…