He watches them as they burn.

At his feet, his m̸̨̩̀̐ȯ̸̼̗t̵̙̐̃h̴͚̐͒͜e̶͓̥͝r̶̡̡̕ is coughing, suffocating, bespattering linoleum flooring with her own sizzling blood; her pale skin is peeling away from the bone, falling with wet splashes to the ground like crimson rain. Her skeleton will disintegrate into coal-black particles in just a couple of minutes, left to scatter away in the breeze with the other ashes. It smells a little like burnt honey, he remembers.

Behind her, his f̷͍͌̇a̸̪̔͝ṭ̵͗̅h̵͖̊e̴̯̕r̷̟̱͑, once as quiet and gentle as snowfall - now he can see the sky, red like the blood trickling down his cheeks, through what probably used to be his intestines. Soon, he won't be able to see him at all.

There's nothing special about their deaths. He can't remember who they were, what they were, or even where they were. All that's left is fire, firefirefirefirefire burningscorchedpainfire-

He looks up.

There's Kiritsugu.

"Old man," he says. The words whisper out like a corpse's last breath. The kind of body that's been beaten bronze and dried out scars until they crack through skin every second day, making it reminiscent of the space between stars where life goes to die.

"Shirou," he returns, as even as a perfectly balanced scale.

Shirou's struggling just to stand, reaching out his hand to grasp what lay so far away yet just in his reach-

What hell could be worse than this? A world where the vision of the future was naught but a waking dream, the end of everything just a mirage before the comforting hold of death finally takes ahold?

The flames are close.

The flames the flames the flames the flames the flames-

There's a sound like a sword being ripped out from a stone as he-

-nearly leaps out of his bed as the remnants of screams and crackling fire die in his ears. His entire body is bathed in a cold sweat, breath fast as the beat of his own heart. His shoulder aches like someone had taken a hammer to it. So does his chest.

He ignores it with the ease of long practice.

It's six fourteen in the morning and everything is going to be alright.

He pads out of his bedroom and towards the kitchen. The floorboards, stone gray tile, are cold against his feet.

He passes the living room, past the couch and the coffee table, and enters the kitchen. It's small, but the warm flush of the lights as he clicks on the switch and they snap on along with the stack of recipe books shelved neatly next to the sink turn it from cramped to cozy. Smoothly, he goes from filling up an electric kettle with tap water to heating a pan to the stove. It was always this kind of ritual that he finds the most relaxing; making a simple breakfast and tea.

The smell of sizzling eggs quickly fills the air as Shirou cracks two into the pan, easily reaching an arm over to the electric kettle to flip the switch off. He grabs two mugs, ripping open two bags of green tea with the skilled ease of long practice and pouring the boiling hot water into both cups along with a bag each of tea. It's ready to go by the time that the bread pops out of the toaster and the egg whites in the pan are beginning to set, and he opens the cupboard to pull out two dishes to hold the food.

Soon enough, he's holding two plates each with a sunny-side-up egg and a slice of toast and two cups of green tea while walking back to the second bedroom, held with the experience of two years of a waitering part-time job during high school. The door is creaked half-open, so all Shirou needs to do is bump it with his hip a little to find Issei Ryuudou sitting up, resting against the headboard with his face buried into a book. "Did you sleep well, Issei?"

"Ah, quite fine. As always, thank you for the breakfast and tea, Emiya. How was your rest?"

Shirou takes a small bite out of the toast, smiling lightly as he sips from the mug of steaming hot tea. "It was alright," he replied offhandedly, the two friends sitting in rather comfortable silence as the breakfast was consumed with no complaints.

We've known each other for maybe four years by now, he idly muses to himself while cleaning the plates. Issei has always been the straight-laced kind of guy, even since we met during freshman year in high school. I'm glad that we decided to room together since our universities were nearby.

(Their first meeting had been purely by chance.

During high school, Shirou had immersed himself in favors for others. Whether it was lending his notebook out, fixing a room heater, or even cleaning the archery dojo, he'd take up the job and do it with a smile. A lot of people took advantage of that. For example, a certain Shinji Matou would shove off his cleaning duty onto Shirou so that he could go play around with girls. Shirou didn't mind. Not at all.

But Issei wasn't one of those people. Of course, he would come to Shirou and ask for help at times, but he'd also offer his own assistance if his friend was ever struggling with anything.

He had to admit that it was nice to have a friend like this.)

-x-

"You can't just do that, Taiga!"

Ah.

He probably should've expected this.

When he rounds the corner into the coffee shop that he called his workplace, managed under perhaps the single smuggest person he knows, the first thing he sees isn't the smoke billowing out of the oven, the kitchen flooring scattered with ash, the coffee tables not even set up, or the remainders of batter splattered all over the kitchen walls.

No- it's a blue-eyed girl wearing a coat the color of roses in bloom during spring, standing in front of a light brown-haired woman and shoving a dainty finger in her face.

"Rin, Fuji-nee, can you two not blow up the kitchen before I get here?" he sighs, slipping off his coat and throwing the classic apron that employees always wore around their cafe. But despite the exasperation clear in his voice as he places his hands on his hips to give the two a classic 'disappointed mom' look (or so what it was nicknamed by their manager), he can't hide the small smile on his lips. The part-time job gives him a little routine and something to look forward to every other day, despite the constant bickering of the two other employees.

"But Shirou," Rin begins with a complaining whine in her voice, "it's not my fault Taiga can't tell what temperature you should bake cakes at! This psycho really thought that throwing chocolate gateau into the oven at 450 degrees was a good idea because it would apparently 'cook the cake faster'!"

"I don't want to hear that from the girl who doesn't even know how to make scrambled eggs!" Taiga shoots back, crossing her arms with a scowl on her face as she glares at the dark-haired girl standing across from her. "It's not like you can say that you're any better. After all, remember that one time where you almost poisoned dear Shirou here with your food?" The last sentence has the same sort of smugness that one has in an argument right before it's won.

"Don't bring that incident into this, you, you, you freak of nature!"

"That's rich coming from you, you hedonistic hussy!"

"Woman-child- ow!"

"Immature brat- ow!"

"Alright, that's enough from both of you. Go get the tables set up, I'll clean up here." Shirou sighs as Rin and Taiga rub their heads where he had just hit both of them, the auburn-haired boy grabbing a mop from the closet and beginning to wipe off the burnt bits on the floor.

And so began another day at Cafe Rail Zeppelin.

-x-

The bell above the entrance rings and along with it, a familiar, energetic voice.

Shirou smiles a little to himself as the bubbly voice of Guinevere echoes throughout the cafe. As expected, she has the same energy as ever-

Oh.

There's someone with her. Someone very, very pretty.

(His heart is definitely not running at about a million miles at an hour. No, he most certainly isn't feeling like the world suddenly just stopped turning for a moment. Definitely not. Deeeeeefinitely not.

But he can't really place a name to the strange feeling running in his chest. It rings once, twice, against his eardrums as he suddenly can't find any words in his mouth.

She is so real and so human and so far beyond his reach he feels himself choke on his own air.)

There's gotta be something wrong.

He's in love.

_

A/N: And Shirou is finally introduced! There's going to be plenty of awkward interactions between these two lovestruck idiots coming soon, so be tuned!