Long lost days of you and me

[vermicompost]

Characters: Kariya Matou and open
Setting: The dormitories and the meadow (or anywhere else, if anyone would like to take him somewhere, as he isn't very mobile on his own– he likes visitors, and trips.)
Format: Action to start, but prose is fine, too
Summary: It's only been a year or so, by Kariya's reckoning (when he can remember), but time and magical parasites have taken their toll.
Warnings: blood and possible body horror or angst



Kariya's Room:

[It's difficult for him to move at all, yet he has his wheelchair, and he can push it a little ways. It's hard for him to leave the dormitories, yet sometimes he still tries. Not now. For the moment, he's resting in his room, his eyes closed, even though he isn't sleeping. It's hard for him to fall asleep.

His body is smaller than it used to be. He's shrunk. Both his eyes are oddly whitish, both sides of him equally affected by what lives within him. His pale skin is all lines and veins, and the movement of the worms within him is evident beneath it, where it shows. His skin appears so thin, it seems it might break at any moment. All of him seems like it might break. Sometimes it does. His skin cracks in lines where it's thinnest, and the blood seeps out. He hardly notices when that happens. Maybe it's because it happens all the time, or maybe he simply isn't thinking clearly enough to realize.

He mutters to himself sometimes, and today is no exception. Sakura, he says often, or he mumbles something about going back home. Back home. He's going to get there. He'll go back to the War, he'll fight and he'll win, and he'll make everything all right again. Suddenly, he speaks, his voice firming, loud enough to be heard clearly.]

I'll help everyone go home.

[That's what he'll do.]

The Dormitory Hallways:

[Kariya wheels himself slowly along. He probably won't get very far, but he likes the feeling of moving forward. (He hasn't told anyone he was going.) He likes to travel. He used to travel once, didn't he? He feels so confined when he's in his room too long, trapped in one place. It's better to get out and around. Unfortunately, the corridors are so confusingly, frustratingly similar.

When he's gone a certain distance, he forgets how far he's come and where he was headed. He stops in the middle of the hallway, not sure whether to go forward or back. Maybe if he waits here long enough, he'll remember. Or maybe it wasn't so important. This is a change of scenery, isn't it? He sits back and gazes down the corridor, a wasted figure with white hair, waiting for someone or something interesting to arrive. He can't see very well, but his expression, if anyone were close enough to read it, is a hopeful one.]

The Meadow:

[It's a good day when he can get to the meadow. Some days, he's stronger, if only a little. The meadow is his favorite floor. It's beautiful there. It makes him smile. The grass and the flowers remind him of the park where he used to play with the children. Sometimes he thinks it is that park. But not today. No, he's thinking more clearly today. He moves a thin arm and manages to take out his photograph, from where he always keeps it, in the pocket of his jacket. It's wrinkled and torn and stained with blood, but it's his. His picture of his family: that's Aoi standing beside him, his wife, and with them are two little girls: their two daughters, Rin and Sakura. When he goes home, he'll see them again. They'll be happy again.

He's forgotten that he never married, that he never had children. But why would he want to remember a thing like that?]

Comments

Hallways

[scorchedchivalry]

[Saber comes up behind Kariya and stops. In the ten years she'd been in the Tower, the knight has come to the decision to let Kariya live, having learned it was Kotomine that was the real culprit. It didn't mean she liked him or forgave him, just that she wouldn't kill him.]

You should not be here. Go back to your room.

[vermicompost]

[He turns his head slowly toward her at the sound of her voice, and it's hard not to feel that cold fear he'd come to associate with her early on.

He's still afraid of her, even if she's no longer actively trying to kill him. The worms react to his emotion, and he feels some pain. In spite of his fear, he doesn't just do what she says. It's a moment before he replies, in his ruined voice.]

I don't want to. I wanted to go out.

[Maybe he sounds like a child, but if he realizes it, he doesn't care. She doesn't control him.]

[scorchedchivalry]

And yet you are standing here in the hallway as if you are waiting for someone. Sakura is not here, nor will she ever be.

[vermicompost]

I'm not waiting for anyone. I wanted to go out, that's all.

[He would grip his wheelchair more tightly if he had the strength in his hands to do so. He's lying. He is waiting for someone, even if he's not quite sure who for. Maybe Rin, maybe one of his friends. Maybe even Sakura.]

Don't say that about Sakura. You don't know.

[scorchedchivalry]

I will know the moment she arrives.

[vermicompost]

[Kariya's confused. Is Sakura here or isn't she? Sometimes he thinks so, and sometimes not. Now he can't quite decide. Saber doesn't think so, but he doesn't trust Saber. He's careful in his answer, not wanting his confusion to show.]

How will you know?

You can't say she'll never arrive here. You can't know that. I'll see her again, soon.

[scorchedchivalry]

I will know, because she is my Master. And if you ever speak of that to anyone other than Rin, I will cut you down.

[vermicompost]

Sakura shouldn't have any part in the War.

[His initial fear passing, he feels something else. She was wrong about him from the beginning, and she's always giving him orders. He feels a flicker of anger, but he suppresses it. It won't do him any good. More easily than ever, she would be able to cut him down, without any real effort. Not only that, but emotions like anger only worsen his condition. But his voice is harsher than usual.]

I don't have a reason to tell anyone. You don't have to threaten me.

[scorchedchivalry]

And yet, Zouken Matou saw to it that she did.

[vermicompost]

[The mention of Zouken has a sudden, severe effect on Kariya. His muscles seize up, and his face twists.]

That's what I want to stop! That's why I did all this. When I go back, I'll stop it from happening.

[He doesn't care if others think it's an impossible goal. He believes it. He'll make everything right.]

[scorchedchivalry]

All this time and you still believe you will win...

[She shakes her head and turns to leave.] Even Berserker knew he would not win.

[vermicompost]

I'll win because I have to. I'll save her.

[Blood gathers at the corners of his mouth, as it usually does when he's upset. He tries not to cough, but it's hard, hard to contain everything when the pain makes him feel like he's coming apart.]

If Berserker thought that, then he was weak! I don't care. I'll win no matter what he thinks. He'll do what I will him to.

[scorchedchivalry]

Until you run out of prana. Otherwise, he would not have been able to throw himself upon my blade.

Lancelot was never weak; it is you that was.

[vermicompost]

Stop saying that! Nothing like that will happen.

I know that I'm weak. [He's been told that often enough. They're Zouken's own words. Why should he care if someone else is saying it? But he does. The blood pours down over his chin.] But that won't stop me. Nothing will. Don't you want Sakura to be saved, if she's your Master?

[scorchedchivalry]

As her Servant, I want her to succeed. If she does not wish for her own salvation, why should I?

[vermicompost]

You may be her Servant, but she's my daughter.

I don't know what's happened to her, but I know what's best for her. Whatever Zouken did to her, that can't be right.

[scorchedchivalry]

She is not your daughter. She is of Tohsaka blood.

[vermicompost]

Tohsaka...? No. That's a lie.

[His bleeding doesn't worsen, but it doesn't stop, either.]

I don't understand why you say these things to me. I told you, I've done nothing to you. I only want to get home and help Sakura. You say you care about her, but you don't, not if you want to let Zouken have his way.

[scorchedchivalry]

You misunderstand. Zouken Matou has already used Sakura as a force in the Fifth War where she breaks free from his control. My personal feelings regarding Sakura and Zouken Matou are irrelevant. She is my Master and I obey her.

And a knight does not lie. Sakura Matou was born Sakura Tohsaka.

[vermicompost]

That hasn't happened. I can still stop it. I care about her.

Maybe you're not lying. Then you're just wrong. Or you're from a different reality. Rin and Sakura are my children.

Everyone knows that. You can ask anyone. Waver or Rin or Diarmuid or Lancer.

[scorchedchivalry]

It is easier for them to believe that than the truth. Some of them know no better. Some of them are living a fantasy because it makes them feel better.

And many of them are playing along because you are sick and weak and the false reality brings you comfort. I know who and what you are, Master of Berserker, Master of Lancelot.

I know your fate. You will never win, no matter the reality you exist in.

[vermicompost]

Lancelot... [He pauses to consider what she's saying, as horrible as her words are, then shakes his head, emphatically.]

They wouldn't lie to me. They're my friends.

You don't know. You're wrong. [He all but spits the words.] That's not possible! It can't be every reality. I know I can win. [There are more splits in his thin skin, and more blood seeps from the minor wounds. But it's the movement of the worms that really hurts. He knows he'll have to see his healer, after this. His hope of winning and his family are all he has. Why does Saber want to take them from him?] Stop saying these things.

[scorchedchivalry]

I will not speak false things to you or any. I am still a knight.

[She walks past him to head down the hall and leaves him with one parting phrase.]

In any War in which I am summoned, you cannot and will not win.

[vermicompost]

[It's true. He knows it. She wouldn't say something untrue. He knows her well enough to know that. But he can't let go of his dream, his hope. Without it, what else would he have? He insists again stubbornly (foolishly?) as she leaves, though his voice is weaker:]

I don't believe you. I will win. I'll defeat you, too.