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It had been Zheng Chenggong’s idea. It was true that they had only seen each other through the telepathic Mystic Code recently. It was also true that the time they ate and drank together was much more entertaining than expected.
“Iori, why are you even thinking so hard about it? I mean, it’s obvious we should go! Zheng is not the type of man to betray his colleagues, or at least doesn’t seem like it.”
“... You’re right. Still, Saber, the war has escalated, and who knows what might happen…
“Stop being such a spoilsport, why do you never allow yourself to have fun?” The Servant’s tone was intensifying quickly.
“It’s not that I don’t allow, just– ”
“That just right now! I know well when someone’s abstaining from letting go… So, please? It’ll be fun. Another grand feast in this wonderful Edo!”
Saber kept on insisting and insisting. And while his words held weight to Iori, the swordsman’s turbulent mind paid them no importance, subconsciously not allowing him to have fun. Servants and Masters were connected mentally and emotionally, the Crimson Codex had said, and it made sense for Saber to truly understand his Master, even if said Master didn’t understand himself.
Sighing, Iori surrendered. It was tiring enough to contradict his energetic Servant. “Fine. We’ll go.” He could see Saber’s lips form into a broad and genuine smile, resembling a child’s excitement.
“Thank you, Iori! You’ll see, we’ll have the night of our lives! I might even challenge Archer to a drinking battle, the true warrior’s test!” Laughing happily, Saber headed outside the house, waiting for his Master to prepare himself and let Kaya know of their departure, explaining how she didn’t need to worry in case she saw Iori coming back at unholy hours of the night, carrying Saber like a potato sack.
Their journey to Akasaka was lively as ever, with Saber stopping by each time a food stall came into view, and the pair occasionally petting some stray cats and dogs which seemed more than happy to receive the small signs of affection. As they approached Zheng Chenggong’s estate, a figure could be seen waiting for them at the entrance.
“It is good to see you, Miyamoto Iori, Saber. Thank you for accepting my Master’s proposal once more.” The Servant bowed, moon-tinted white hair falling through his shoulders.
“Good evening, Archer. No, thanks to you for the invitation. I hope we can have a good time.”
Softly laughing, Archer replied. “I’m sure of that. Please follow me inside.” An extended arm led the way inside, as hallways and green spaces unfolded upon the pair.
Once they set foot in the dining room, a boisterous voice called out to them. “Miyamoto Iori and Saber! Welcome, please, make yourselves comfortable!”
“Hi, Zheng! Thank you for the invitation”, Saber smiled back, mirroring his excitement.
“As Saber said, thank you for having us here.”
“Oh no, the pleasure is all mine. Well, let’s get started. Fancy a drink?"
*
“Yes, I swear he talks! Arghh, Iori, you should’ve brought him! When I first saw him… It? Him? I thought I was… I… I don’t know!”
“HAHAHA! Why, Iori, you seem to have the most interesting friends!”
Saber gulped down more alcohol, his words now becoming slurred and a pinkish glow adorning his cheeks. “Oh, you wouldn’t believe that! He befriended the weirdest Rogue Servant, Rider! That Aria… hahaha!! She’s on another level of interesting, if that’s how Zheng describes her, tell them Iori!” Saber held Iori’s arm and excitedly rocked it, expecting his response.
“Well, I met Aria in Ueno, and… she’s not that strange… besides, she aids us in battle…”
“She is weird! It’s exactly that, that you and your sword-loving mind can’t notice the weirdness she exudes! At this rate you’ll never marry, hahaha!!”
“Wait, marry? Does this Rogue Rider have any romantic intentions?”
“It sure looks like it, Zhou Yu! Hoho, Saber, tell us more!” Zheng said and served some more drink for both him and Saber, who promptly sipped it all.
“Wait Saber, what do you mean–”
“You airhead, she’s so forward about it! I’m surprised she hasn’t even asked you to sleep with her yet, knowing her!”
“Pffft, with how you describe her, it wouldn’t seem out of the ordinary! C’mon Iori, man up! She’s a Rogue, right? Then a little extra mana would do her more good than harm!”
Iori looked at Zheng perplexed, a bit dizzy because of the drink. “Eh… She did mention something about me giving some mana to her, but how does that connect with all of this you’re saying?”
The two Servants and the Master stared at Iori for a while in silence.
Eventually, Archer gave up as confusion and panic grew evident in Iori’s expression. “... You see, a way of transferring mana from mage to Heroic Spirit is through… sexual intercourse…” Archer giggled airily, reaching out for some alcohol. “My Master would know about it, right?”
Immediately, Zheng shot up, face incredibly red and hands moving all over. “Ahahaha!!!! What do you mean, Zhou Yu? Ahaha…!”
“OH! I see how this is… hu hu hu… Good for you! Good for you! War will never strip men of all of their pleasures! Cheers to that!” And with that, Saber clumsily took the bottle into his hands and put it directly to his lips.
To all of this, Iori just watched, still processing the revelation regarding Aria, brain extra-slow due to him being a sleepy drunk. He only came to his senses some minutes after, when he felt an unsure hand on his leg. Instinctively, he caught his Servant as he tumbled onto him.
“‘M sorry, Iori, thanks.” He spoke dispersely and his eyes couldn’t seem to focus, so Iori looked at him with concern. Saber had been an avid drinker throughout their travels together, his Master knew that. He had also been, by far, the one who drank the most that night.
For the next half an hour, Saber was exceptionally quiet. The occasional laughs seemed more out of courtesy than any other thing, and looked down often, tightly holding his cup. The others didn’t seem to notice that much though, as Iori had been forced into a drinking game by Zheng and Archer had had to go get more alcohol multiple times already.
“I’m going out for a while”, Saber gently said, as he stood up and neared the patio.
“Yes, get some fresh air, Saber. Zheng and I will be looking after your Master.”
“Hm, thanks…” And the door closed behind him.
*
The deep blue sky above Edo looked exactly like the sky he remembered. He also remembered the cold and the moonlight well. The stars, the wind’s song… It was as if he never left. As if he was still alive. Alive… could he feel alive even now, when he was alone?
Yamato Takeru was used to being alone. Or so he thought, before the devastating realization that after such love, a man could not return to being a lone wanderer. That slowly eroding love was his anchor to sanity, his anchor to hope… which seemed to decay even faster with poisonous ocean waters that were so used to taking what he most needed away from him.
That night, the sky looked exactly like the ocean. Deep, dark, unrelenting. Even in this new era, it looked the same as then. So similar it hurt. So similar it managed to reopen wounds of the past. If time wasn't going to heal them, at least alcohol would temporarily numb them. The fallen prince surrendered and looked up, drowning in the stars and memories.
Ototachibana-hime…
Tears started to coat Takeru’s palm, glistening on top of his fair skin. This defeated the point of it all - he drank to forget, to be free, to live his miraculous present. Not to remember or regret. It must’ve been the new alcohol he tried from Zheng’s homeland, he convinced himself. He sat slouchily on the grass, leaning over and hiding his face in the valley between his knees. He could not bear to look at the sky anymore if he wished to maintain whatever little composure he had left.
He fiddled with the blades of grass underneath him. It had all been his fault, he was sure. He should have never been loved, he was sure. She was too good to be by his side forever, as their fortuitous cross of fates ought to have been momentary. Or was it a punishment from the heavens, after committing so many atrocities? He would commit a hundred thousand more if that meant he could once again catch an ephemeral glimpse of her face. To graze her hands once again. Her hands…
The memory of them was imprinted into his mind. It was almost laughable how even now, he could still feel her hands wrapping around him. Rubbing his back. Touching his neck. Suddenly, another phantom feeling startled him to his core, making him look back.
There. She was there. Kneeling behind him. Tinted cheeks, thin lips, and beautiful watery eyes.
“Love…”
He knew this wasn’t real. He was drunk. But still…
Their eyes locked as if it were any of their countless nights together, and her soft hands trailed his cheeks lovingly. “Don’t cry… Takeru…” Her voice broke him. His name in her song was a drug, and hearing it one more time made him realize the magnitude of his feelings.
“... Dear…” He cried into her shoulder, not holding back anymore. “Talk to me, love, I need to hear your voice. Please. Please.”
Ototachibana-hime gently kissed his crown and whispered, “Takeru, I’m here. You can cry. I’m here.”
“You’re… y-you’re not real, love…” He managed to say in between calming sobs.
A short silence befell them, and before her husband could return to his depressive state, Ototachibana-hime reassured him, tangling her hands in his hair, which she had let loose.
“Our love is real, Takeru. I’m here now. You do love me, right? That’s all that matters.”
“Yes”, he breathed heavily. “Yes, I love you so much, dear. You’re my everything… please, love. Ototachibana-hime. Yes, I…”
Before his tears took hold of him again, Ototachibana-hime softly took him by the shoulders and closed the distance between them.
Their lips embraced as if they’d never separated, their breaths syncing after so much time apart.
“Ah, dear…” Takeru held her cheeks as they parted, fondly looking at her, before going back in to kiss her neck.
“Ngh… ah…” Her voice excited and stirred desperate feelings inside of him. When would he be able to hold her like this again? Hear her delicate and precious whines, only spoken for his ear? He needed more, enough to satiate the fleeting time he had left in this era.
He nibbed and licked sloppily, tongue caressing up to her jawline. Before he realized it, he was already pushing himself on top of her as she lay on the soft grass. More. His hands roamed her shoulders, exposing her sternum and cleavage, where he weakly rested his head for a moment. It felt right, he felt protected.
As he nestled his head in her chest, she tangled her hands in his hair. She always liked it long, and oftentimes braided it for him whenever they were travelling together. “Shh… here.” She let him rest for a while, as alcohol was still making his head spin and his movements slow. “I will lead, dear. Relax.”
With that, Ototachibana-hime sat Takeru down properly and straddled herself on top, taking his thighs in between her knees. She undid his upper clothes and embraced his bare torso, kissing him tenderly. The kiss started to intensify once Takeru mustered some strength, and tongues and sighs escaped both lovers.
“Yes, yes, dear, yes…” He whispered in between kisses, desperate for more. She chuckled melancholically in response, “Yes… yes, Takeru. Ever the speaker, no?”
“I want you, need you to know how much I love your touch, your lips, your hands… My precious wife, mhm…”
She did indeed like that he was so vocal in their intimate moments, but she much preferred sweet cries of pleasure rather than complete sentences, so she continued downward. She peppered a trail of kisses from his throat to his chest, while her hands held his hips securely. She took her time loving every inch of his stomach, his slender muscled form, the charmingly feminine curve of his hips.
Low whines and sighs left his lips, almost as if he was crying. Crying for more, crying for time to stop right then and there. Crying because this probably was just his imagination, and he might as well be moaning against the grass. But he didn’t care. It was the closest he would get to being with his beloved again, and any opportunity was a golden moment to seize.
They touched each other, loved each other, and slowly Takeru was starting to get a hold of his clear consciousness. With this though, he started to feel the contact less and less and eventually noted Ototachibana-hime retreating from in between his legs and caressing him gently and softly.
“Takeru… You’re strong, I know it”, she started to stand up, leaving him sitting alone in the grass. “You’re strong… but this tenderness you show me is what makes you powerful.”
Confusion and anxiety at the realization of her seemingly closing words started to dawn upon Takeru as he had now completely lost her touch.
“We’ll see each other sooner than you think.”
“Ah, wait, wait! Please… don’t leave me again, I promise, I’ll do anything but I can’t be like this again…” Wet eyes once again threatened to break him.
“Dear, no… You don’t have to do anything. It was my decision, remember? Shhh…”
“I…”
“I…”
Suddenly, he heard steps from behind approaching, steps he had come to recognize well. “Saber, are you there? Are you awake?”
A quick turn of the head to face his Master was all it took for him to lose sight of Ototachibana-hime. Once his sight searched for her gaze once again, all he saw was the deep blue. Again, lost to that merciless void.
“Yeah, Iori. Going, I’m fine now.”
He stood up thoughtfully and carefully and was surprised when he noticed his clothes were truly undone. Dear…
As he walked back into the room with everyone else, he noticed everyone standing and bidding their goodbyes. Zheng was giving a small parting gift to Iori, and Archer was standing dutifully next to his chuckling Master.
It was true, that once he returned to them, he would no longer be Takeru, but Saber. He swallowed and regained composure, and he strutted back to the house.
Not before taking one last look at the stars, Saber walked inside and closed the door behind him.