That wiped the smile off of Kiritsugu's face for only a moment. He'd stored that away and left it there for a time as he didn't see the need to use it anymore. He couldn't. Therefore, he stowed it in that shed. Along with so many more memories. "So, just how did that discovery click?"
"It's… kind of ridiculous, actually…" The boy's eyes wandered to the side, looking full well that he wouldn't believe him even if he tried, but a moment and a deep breath later, he said, "When I saw it, I… sort of tried to see if… I could study it. Try and glean from it with my structural analysis. It was… hard. I… couldn't grasp anything at all. It's not as simple as a pole or a rod, in fact, it hurt more than trying to analyze a car. I kept trying, but… all I got was a headache. When I decided to put it back where I found it, a thought came to mind."
That being 'why couldn't he project an object he fundamentally understood the innerworkings of?'. He then continued on.
"I decided to do a little research and went to the library. I looked up the basic makeup of how pistols work and tried image training. When that didn't work, I just went back home and started preparing dinner. Around that time, I… I was thinking of how a gun makes noises and a commercial came up on the TV and… and…"
"'And'?"
"The words came to me. Or rather… a chant."
"A chant?"
"Haaah," sighing, the boy held out a hand and uttered, "Trace, on!"
Immediately as he said it, a replica of the newly bought silver knife manifested itself in Shirou's hand. Offering it up, Kiritsugu studied the new copy and was astounded at the results.
"I figured that emulating the sound of a gun in my head makes it easier to project. I thought about 'the sound a gun makes when it's prepped and the trigger is pulled' then… boom. The image in my head, so long as it's a simple one or something I comprehended with structural analysis, it comes out faster."
Not just fast. It was practically instant.
"Certain magi have proposed that the mind relies on specific keywords or maybe visual or, in your case, audio cues. The cock and hammer of a gun are probably yours. As for the chant… it's apt."
The boy eyed him curiously. Then, he chuckled.
"Ah, I get it. Structural analysis created a blueprint. And projecting it into reality… that's…"
"'Tracing'." Kiritsugu confirmed, handing the boy back his new duplicate knife. "It's your own thing. An ability that naturally came to you."
Whether it was Avalon at work or just his natural talent, it would serve him well. And, considering his heart was in the right place, Kiritsugu didn't doubt for a second that Shirou would ever go wrong with this newfound skill. He was sure of it.
The boy looked at his reflection on the flat of the silver knife. A small smile crept up his face as he mumbled. "My own…"
"This calls for a celebration!" Shirou earned himself a pat on the back as Kiritsugu smiled softly. "Not only is my son making good progress, but he's also finally found something to call his own personal speciality. Now, how about we order some takeout—!"
"Hold it right there, old man!" Kiritsugu flinched. "Just because I've got a lead on my training does not justify you snacking. I bet you hadn't cooked yourself a proper meal while you were out travelling, weren't you?" The kid hit the nail so hard on the head that Kiritsugu's eyes wandered sideways. He forced a wry smile but the excuses were cut short. "I thought as much… No wonder you looked so thin. Haaah. Hurry up and take a bath. I'll get dinner ready."
"Eh? But… shouldn't we celebrate your achievements first—"
"Not when my pops have basically starved himself to hell and back all throughout his trip. I know for a fact you haven't even tried to get a decent breakfast judging by how light you are right now." The teenager said as he shoved the adult from behind with ease. "Come on, pops. You're probably tired, aren't you? It'll only take a couple of minutes and I've already prepped the hot water anyway. Go on."
Shooed away so fast that he was left outside the kitchen door, the irresponsible grownup chuckled to himself. Kiritsugu felt a little proud that his son was the eager type to take the initiative in his care for others but he also felt ashamed as it was he, the parent, to be the one ushered off to a bath to cool off and relax.
It wasn't the first time he had been told off for working himself too hard. And a small part inside of him was glad it wasn't the last.
Iri would've loved to have met Shirou. Illya, no doubt, would've been spoiled for his attention had she… …
'No…' all colour and emotion vanished from the old man's face as he stared up emptily into the ceiling. '… That bridge has been burned… No sense in dwelling on it now.'
He had no room to dream. No hope to grasp. After the dismal result of his recent trip in search of that ancient castle hidden in the snowy mountains, he was left with nary a clue as to what to do. He was… lost, for a lack of a better term.
Illya was gone. Perhaps, forever.
The sound of running water, a broiling pot, and the rhythmic chopping on a cutting board, as well as the soft humming of the lone redheaded cook in the kitchen, snapped Kiritsugu back to reality.
Heavy still was the weight on his chest. Balling up his fists, he relented before cutting himself with his fingernails. Yet, after taking in a long breath and sighing exhaustedly, all the while sensing the upbeat atmosphere Shirou emulated behind the door… … somehow, another, smaller fragment of the broken former assassin still held hope.
Sharing what small optimism he could grasp from the one child he was able to save, the hopeless father held onto that small fragment tightly, wishing it would stay alive for just a bit longer.
Dinner was an uplifting affair.
Add the fact that he'd missed his son's home-cooked dinner, not that he would admit to it, sharing a meal was far better than eating alone. Catching up on his son's recent activities, both in school and otherwise, these past few months was also something he enjoyed.
Apart from getting an update on Shirou's daily training regimen, he was also curious as to the happenings in the boy's personal life at school. Easily fitting in with almost every kid and staff he'd interacted with, Kiritsugu was often reassured the boy wouldn't encounter much of any problems. Given that he was one of the few to tame Taiga, Kiritsugu could never manage that child's boundless energy, Shirou was clearly mature enough to leave to his own devices. Almost.
"You've been hanging around with Matou again."
"It's not that big of a deal, dad." His son retorted, seemingly tired of going down this talk again. Not that they would have to have he stopped and listened to Kiritsugu's advice. "Besides, Sakura and Shinji aren't as bad as you think."
"It's not them I worry about. It's—"
"'Their family'. I get it. Old magi clan with a shady history. We've been over this, I know. But still, whatever they used to be, Shinji and Sakura aren't that. I'm sure of it."
Kiritsugu would beg to differ. At best, he'd err on the side of caution and avoid them entirely. But his son was dead-set on looking to the good in people. Always. It wasn't wrong of him. But naivete was a risk factor too hard to ignore.
And, even if they were good people, the rest of their kin was far too dangerous to simply brush aside. They were a part of one of the three families that created the Grail System after all.
Setting aside the absent Tohsaka, the Matous were practically the only notable magi family within miles. Now that their rivals were gone, they held free rein over the area. Not that Kiritsugu heard much about them expanding their reach, but still.
A living magus was far more dangerous than a dead one. More so when left unchecked by their fellows. Kiritsugu knew this better than most, especially Shirou.
Granted, he was and always had been lying low, both during and after the War. Shirou's 'friends' shouldn't have known their classmate's father had been involved in the war that claimed their family member's life. But it would only take a small amount of effort to figure out all of those who participated in the first place. And if his affiliations with the Einzberns were to be leaked, then…
What's stopping them from stamping out the last remnants of competition in their backyard?
"Dad, come on. Relax." Noting his sharpened gaze into space, Shirou called him out. "You're blowing this up over nothing. Besides, it was you who asked I find friends in the first place, no?"
"I may have. But how was I supposed to know you'd approach them of all people?"
The boy shrugged. "It's not like I get to pick and choose who I meet first every day. They found me!"
'No, but it was within your choice on whether to let them stick around or leave…' Kiritsugu didn't say. He just sighed and dropped it.
The boy sighed as well, knowing he wouldn't get through to his father. This was one of the few topics Kiritsugu didn't have any idea how to approach. For one, he'd never been much of a parent. Raising Illya was… it hadn't been him alone. Nor had it been permitted for him to be the only one to rear that child. At the end of the day, she was still under the care of her grandfather Acht and the rest of the clan under the rationale that, should her father and mother fail, they would have a backup. Therefore, Kiritsugu's parenting skills were amateurish at best.
Add to the fact that he's spent most of his time either only training Shirou or leaving to look for leads in Europe, and the boy's growth practically fell to the rest of the other adults in the vicinity.
"How's Raiga by the way?" pushing to clear the air, he asked about the Fujimura matriarch and one of the few non-magi acquaintances that knew about his history, and kept quiet about it. "Has the old man been making any progress with his son-in-law's training?"
"Nah. Gramp practically given up and was thinking to let Tai—Fuji-nee take over instead. A few days after you left, he called me over to watch some sumo-wrestling tournament qualifiers, but he actually just wanted to thank me for taking care of Fuji-nee because…"
The boy perked up and began recanting about how his former babysitter-turned-homeroom-teacher adamantly refused to take command of her grandpa's 'business', read 'yakuza', and wanted to pursue her teaching career instead. He also included the bit where said young lady, after walking out on her gramps' request, ended up beating the crap out of a rival gang's heir when he was harassing some students from her class.
Apparently, she had been so overprotective of the kids that she broke more than a few bones in the aftermath, ending up whipping the young boss into decent shape and earning that group's leader's gratitude and respect. Kiritsugu enjoyed a hearty laugh as the boy recounted the story about how she came by the house looking for a place to hide out after she'd heard Raiga decided to throw a party celebrating his heir's sudden rise in notoriety. The Matou siblings also joined in on the fun, it seems. The girl, Sakura, had been coming by their home more often recently in a bid to learn more cooking techniques from Shirou whilst her older brother was apparently there as a 'taste tester', read 'freeloader'.
That Shirou could talk on and on about dangerous magi as friends and people related to yakuza as family… it just goes to show how open-minded he was about people. Kiritsugu shouldn't have been surprised, considering how accepting the boy was when he opened up a bit about his past to him.
He didn't explain everything, but Shirou had been given a clear enough picture to know about the war, those that participated, and the evils they committed. All for the sake of a wish that wouldn't have been granted in the first place. Knowing all that, anyone would have called Kiritsugu out as a bad man who'd escaped justice and punishment. And yet, Shirou hadn't.
There was no point pushing the boy against socializing with others. It just wasn't in his just and good-willed nature to leave others alone. He saw good in people that tried for the future and didn't question the bad deeds of the past. So long as they were genuine, he accepted them.
That he hadn't made much of a fuss about Kiritsugu adopting him, despite his incompetence, or perhaps inability, to be a model parent was proof enough of the boy's tenacious nature. He'd stick with his guns no matter how much his naïve and forgiving nature grated against the grain. The boy was just that gold-hearted.
Yet, Shirou was also very inquisitive.
"So… how was your trip this time around?"
Kiritsugu was enjoying a cup of coffee while Shirou was washing the dishes when he asked. He hadn't brought it up earlier for fear of bringing the good mood down and ruining dinner so soon, but he would have to ask eventually and bring it up after they had their fun catching up. Either that or he just couldn't hold it in anymore. The boy too wanted answers. Although, not as much as Kiritsugu did for differing reasons.
"Nothing. I found… nothing." Taking a sip from his warm mug, Kiritsugu sighed. "My first contact in Romania hadn't called me back. The one in Austria was more helpful, but he had little to add to what I already knew. The third in Hungary… all he had was bad news."
Shirou waited in silence, allowing his father time to collect himself.
"The Einzberns are gone. Missing. In so far as my contacts have informed me. But… then again, they could've been wrong… Or misled. In any case, I haven't seen the hide or hair of that family. And I doubt I would if I tried searching using the same methods as last time…"
They had escaped him, a professional hitman. They had good reason to. He failed them after all. And they punished him for it, taking Illya away where he'd never find her. Petty as they were a proud ancient clan, the ever-elusive Einzberns wouldn't ever be found if they didn't want you to. Not unless… you were powerful enough to break through their many overlapping defences. And, isolated and lying low as he was, there was very little he could do.
"Isn't that a good thing though?" Shirou, oblivious to the man's sombre tone, asked. "I mean… if they're gone, doesn't that mean we don't have to live in fear anymore?"
Of all the things Kiritsugu told his son, this was the biggest half-truth of them all. Or was it a half-lie? Either way, the only thing the boy was aware of was the fact that Kiritsugu had once wronged one of the Grail War founding families and had been trying to get in contact with them once again to… to apologize. To atone. For all the good that would do.
For five years, he'd maintained this deception to Shirou. Once every six or so months, he'd go back to look for them, stating that he was only seeking out that particular family for the danger they posed to him and his own. So that, from now on and into the future, neither his nor his son's peace would be disturbed by past grievances caused by his mistakes.
Kiritsugu didn't bother painting them in a bad light. Nor did he absolve himself in his son's eyes. He wouldn't lie about that anymore. He did make a mistake. He mistook taking their side and fighting that war to be the last and most surefire option left to fulfil his dream. And, naïvely so, he hopelessly believed in it, killing and killing, murdering and cutting down all that stood in his way. Even going so far as to cut off all emotions as he ended them all behind the single pull of a trigger. Innocent lives, naïve ideals, his own wife and child…
He didn't talk to Shirou about his true involvement with that magi clan. He didn't talk about the love and family… the wife and daughter he'd once had… for there was no reason to give the boy that hope… Hope he could barely hold onto himself.
There was no reason to burden Shirou's heart of gold with the same burden Kiritsugu vowed to carry out on his own.
To liberate his one and only daughter, to recover his last remaining family… It was his mission, not the boy's.
He'd failed too many times to jeopardize the safety of the only one he managed to save.
Shirou had been waiting patiently for his response. The weight of the silence had told the boy well enough that what his adoptive father was considering was a hefty decision. But it didn't tell him more. And the tired old man was satisfied for that reprieve at least.
"No… It's not that easy, kiddo. I can't stop living in fear as things are." A fake smile plastered itself on his tired face. "I gotta make sure they don't come for you, even once I'm gone. I wouldn't be a proper father if my sins caught up to you, now wouldn't it."
"Not like you were much of one, to begin with, old man," Shirou joked, not knowing just how deep and true those words cut. "So? When are you leaving again for?"
"I just got back and now you want me out again?" Kiritsugu countered, hiding all the bottled-up emotions under an affronted but similarly fake scoff. "Teenagers these days… always looking to get their parents out of the house. Don't tell me you're now planning to have that Sakura girl here more often."