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Crashing dark waves, distant seagull calls, the setting sun bathing the sky in the hue of orange and pink, a picturesque canvas, something you’d only find in a dream.
…Perhaps this is a dream. A distant past. A present recurring. A future yet to happen. Time is forever uncertain in a world such as this.
But that doesn’t really matter. Not when his lone raison d'être —that star—still calls out to him, selfish and heartfelt in her desire to fight beside him.
Monte Cristo breathes out, slowly, as his eyes blink at the sky before returning to the ground, to the sandy white beach before him, painted in warm tones.
“Isn’t she so dazzling, Uncle Edmond?”
Beside him, Abigail smiles their Master’s way, softly, as she stopped her trek for a second, in that tone he knows well enough to be that of the Priestess of that Outer God.
He sighed, crossing his arms and leaning against the bench further, “...I am not the same Cavern King you once knew.”
She was calling him by that fond title again, alongside that name. He is no longer the Heroic Spirit who spent those quiet days alongside the Foreigner girl beside him.
Abby sits beside him, smiling just slightly, “That’s already a given. But you’re composed of all parts of the uncles in Master’s dreams and her reality… Are you not? You’re still the same, despite it all.”
He frowned in her direction, brows furrowed together in wonder.
…What did she want to talk to him about this time? He couldn’t help but wonder.
“Does it matter for the topic you wish to discuss?” Monte Cristo asks the girl this—but then his attention is instantly caught.
When shrieks of laughter reach his ears, a familiar head of red-orange hair enters the corner of his vision, treading happily through the waves as she splashes the shallow waters towards her friends.
As if sensing his stare, Ritsuka turns to him, and smiles brightly, so sweetly, so much like the sun, waving with a gesture of her hand, his name about to be uttered fondly before getting interrupted by the splash of water her way.
Abigail caressed the cat that settled on her lap, looking in the same direction as him–to their Master who was having fun after a week of solving the singularity once more.
“We’re already on that topic. So of course it matters, Uncle.” The purr from the creature was loud yet, the sea that gave him null solace was far louder. A different Spirit Origin he may be, all things tied to his name remain the same.
“...Hmph. Then, you are correct.”
He admits, “However, I am neither of them at the same time. I am a man different from the one summoned by the Mage King, from the one summoned previously at Master’s behest… or even those who planned the trials for her sake.”
“I see.” His companion giggled, “Then it’s all the more of a problem then.”
Monte Cristo huffed, “What is?”
…He had an inkling of what she was talking about as soon as she looked at their Master’s way. He did not like it, but neither can he refute it. Not when he was no more similar than frail kindling with the World’s way.
Here, her small smile of happiness directed at their red-orange haired Master, turns a shade of melancholy, different from the personality of the young girl who acted more like a little sister to Ritsuka.
“Your very existence, Uncle.” Abigail finally utters out, “Not only are your flames burning away at you, but the deep seated desire- no, instinct you harbor is much more dangerous than a Demon Pillar rampaging inside you ever will.”
Desire. His instinct.
…Of course.
Monte Cristo sighed, pulling out a pack of his cigarettes to light one for this talk alone.
At least, knowing that it was the girl who noticed, and not anyone else brought him assurance. Solace, even, as she is one of the few he can fully trust and count on when it comes to his and Ritsuka’s well being.
His cigar now lit, he tucks his items away at the pocket of his shorts. Even with such a lighter, he himself preferred Ritsuka’s light, having far gotten used to her gentle and careful way of setting it aflame.
Once he took in some of the smoke, the Avenger exhaled, “...So you’re aware.”
“It’s not exactly subtle , Uncle.”
Her smile turns teasing, causing him to look away and sweat just a bit. (Though Ritsuka heals far faster than the average human, she still needs to wear long sleeves whenever going out especially if they spent the night prior together.)
But Abigail retreats to that expression of sadness and understanding, looking at her familiar sleeping peacefully in her arms, “The marks you give to Master are no doubt out of love… but to the ‘you’ who has lived far longer in her mind, to the ‘you’ as well who comfortably rested in her shadow upon being summoned by a fledgling Master for far too long…”
He finds himself holding a breath—
“Are you not terribly ill , Cavern King?”
“Are you not craving to become one with her once more?” She turns to face the woman, basking in joy and warmth, her smile deathly sweet. “To satiate that horrible burning sensation in your chest, made doubly awful by your flames, because ‘you’ have grown far too accustomed to being inside her?”
(Much like a sea creature who cannot live on land, forced to adapt. Much like a parasite, without its host—)
A bout of silence. As the ocean breathes without stopping, waves gently crawl along the shore as if trying to reach for something that lies on land, something it can never attain…before retreating, breathing again.
...An endless cycle.
The man closes his eyes and simply takes a drag of his cigarette.
The Count does not give her question—her statement, an answer.
Abigail knows this, and sighs, forlorn, “Me and my other self know what loneliness is, Uncle.”
The cat from her lap wakes up, senses the anguish in her tone, and climbs up to rest its chin on her shoulder. The girl hugs the creature as she continues with a sad murmur, remembering a certain someone of fair hair and pale complexion from her hazy memories as well.
“Sometimes it’s just brief… Other times, it will be as immense as tidal waves, something enough to drown you, choke you—sometimes, a sensation as well that would make it feel like you are bleeding inside out, with little choice to gouge your heart out.”
She shakes her head, lips pursed with a hint of frustration to her sadness, “You tell yourself it's a good thing; that you finally got out. That you are no longer a ‘remnant’ , no longer part of her—when you actually feel the complete opposite…”
…Again, he does not speak. Preferring to stay silent so she may get to the point once and for all.
“And in that hollowness you feel, as if missing home, you pour it into nights where you spend the night with her.” Her voice lowers further into a whisper, closing her eyes, “Master must know this too. Because it's the only way you could keep her safe from your terrifying fires, while also fulfilling your shared desire to be with each other.”
His lips quirk in grim amusement, letting the white smoke he breathed out curl in the quiet atmosphere, “...I see. That is much like her then, to always accept the monstrous with open arms. But I imagine that it must have been intensely arduous for her to bear the violence of my repulsiveness.”
Intensified by the fact that this poisonous Spirit Origin, this body of his was made to be her weapon and tool to use as she sees fit. And he certainly cannot guarantee safety, even to his own accomplice.
But Abigail shakes her head, quick to answer, her response resolute, “No. No, it’s the opposite.”
(He stills.)
She continues, “It’s not a burden to her at all. She accepts whatever you give her with gladness—And she shows it differently, but she loves you with the same intensity as you love her .”
For a second, his breath was caught in his throat.
Without moving an inch, Monte Cristo’s red gaze flickered over to the girl beside him then to the horizon ahead with a frown. “...That’s a cause for concern.”
Especially when the near countless fires he left inside her soul—pieces of him and have unfortunately remained—must still continue to persist even when they were sure to fade with time.
The girl giggled, “Hehe, is it? Even when those feelings are purely her own?”
…
…Oh.
The Avenger draws in a deep breath before exhaling, running a hand down his hair, the tips of ears a little too red, perhaps a little in disbelief over her words. “...It is not wise to put words into our Master’s mouth, Abigail.” He also can’t help but click his tongue, a habit he noticed that he seemed to have picked up from the Dragon Witch.
“Uncle, she really just told me yesterday how much she loves you.” She rolled her eyes playfully, “If you don’t believe me, feel free to call her over here to disprove me.” Cheerfully waving to Ritsuka herself, the woman waved back as a greeting.
—Then, in suddenly meeting his Master’s gaze, Monte Cristo scrambled to keep his cool, returning her smile with a cool smirk and a nod.
And what he got in reply was a distant melodious laughter that was fine music to his ears.
“Fufu, you really are a man helplessly in love, Uncle.”
Again, his companion laughed but it died down just as quickly, her smile returning to that of the one she gave him earlier, on the topic of his ‘illness’, “But if she makes you so happy, a sentiment she agrees with and shares so deeply, why not just return to becoming her guardian again? I’m sure the Wall wouldn’t notice it as long as you make yourself as tiny as possible in her mind…”
Her suggestion was easier said than done and he had to wonder, for a second, if she remembered their ‘last’ conversation together all those months ago.
“Ah, but ‘you’ did entrust to me the key and its responsibilities… However, you’re still the original holder for it. You have the right to enter her heart once more, at least.”
Her tone grew softer as she leaned against the bench with her cat mewling in her hold. “...If only, to simply burrow yourself inside her for just a bit, to satiate the painful ache you feel every second, even right this moment. If you tell her this, I’m sure she’d understand and welcome–”
…So that’s how it is.
“Abigail.”
Monte Cristo sighed and reached out to the ashtray beside him, tapping his cigar lightly for the remnants to fall before putting them out, “It is useless to try and tempt flames to burn in the opposite direction, for they are already set alight in the path it is determined to follow.”
But even so, he cannot deny how correct she was in his desires as a man, not just as a Servant, a familiar to his Master. His body may be made of ether, but the emotions he feels are as true as any other.
However, how he acts upon them is another story.
He has said this before time and time again to all those who asked: the Count of Monte Cristo is a dark poisonous flame destined to return to the Throne before the Master of Chaldea’s journey ends.
…He may have answered the call, but it's simply an irrefutable fact that he must leave again for his star’s sake. No matter how early it should be.
“A-Ahaha…How mean…” She laughed again with that strange sadness, that strange thinly veiled crack in her voice, “I just want you and her to be happy together… For both of you to have sweet dreams and even a bright future in reality. After all, you’ve become important to me too, Uncle.”
From the corner of his eyes, he saw that tears slipped past her eyes.
And briefly, he was suddenly reminded of the times when ‘he’ would bring the girl a cup of hot chocolate in place of the usual coffee he brews alongside for the writers and for Ritsuka.
How ‘he’ would make sure the right amount of marshmallow and hot milk was added into the drink…There would be numerous times ‘he’ would protect her as well when they worked together in eradicating the troublesome remnants of their night time duties…
There had been that time as well, where all four of them had worked together to defeat the remains of a god dwelling within their Master, his hands holding both of this little girl and his star’s own so none of them got lost–
“Thank you,” Monte Cristo whispered, his own gaze softening, feeling guilty, unable to help but reach out to pat the top of her head, causing her to lean towards him a bit, “But my happiness should come last, while my accomplice's own and yours should be prioritized.”
It was pure fact as that was his driving force to push through with the trials, and create a separate existence that served to give Fujimaru Ritsuka’s heart the push it needed to head to where she wanted. (The push he needed to be able to be that stepping stone for her sake, even should it be at the cost of her heart, her love and hatred–)
After all, her soul is her own.
Her wishes, her hopes, and dreams should be attained by her hand. For she could live long and happy, satisfied once her journey ends.
…Whether or not he should be by her side matters little, as he is a flame that should never be meant to stay forever in this world.
On hearing Abby’s tiny sniffle, he fished out for a handkerchief in his pocket to give to her, thankful he hadn’t used it yet. He bit the inside of his cheek, wondering with a hint of nervousness why she was suddenly sad… Did he say something insensitive?
After a small word of gratitude and blowing her nose, the girl quietly giggled, “Ehehe… Now I see why nearly all of Chaldea wanted to get the jump on you the moment you got summoned back then.”
He stiffened at that—suddenly recalling a furious Kriemhild hissing at him with her demonic sword for being a ‘ thick-skinned buffoon’ barely held back by her husband, the rare disapproving gazes as well from a well-known hero of Japan’s most famous eras with his eternal dragon companion, and an Indian hero eternally cursed to be separated from his wife while the rest pointed their weapons at him, the fact that he was still allowed to continue existing is all because of their Master alone pacifying their ire.
The Avenger coughed into a fist, intending to change the subject, “In any case, now that we had this talk, I expect that you wouldn’t attempt to create a minute Singularity for Ritsuka’s sake any time soon.”
Seeing Abby freeze as if caught had only confirmed his words.
In turn smirked in amusement. It’s a little nice to know that some things has not changed, at least.
Then, she stuck her tongue out, red eyes just a little angry, just still a little unhappy, “Just because you called me out, doesn’t mean I won’t go through with it anymore, uncle!”
But he could tell that her spirits are a little lighter now, even as the shaky grip she had on his hand told him still of her worry.
So he chuckles quietly and replies with a tease,“Heh, are you wishing to see a disappointed look on Ritsuka, then?”
Abigail thrived under the woman’s praises, after all. One of the last things she would ever want is their Master getting severely upset with her.
“I-If it would make both of you happy…!” was her hesitant reply, before suddenly looking away, puffing her cheeks out all because she cannot stand the thought of being the cause of Ritsuka's dismay.
But a familiar silhouette approached in their direction, her stance that of excitement to see them.
And even without looking, he could already feel the curious gaze that settled upon him and the little girl beside him.
“Though, if you truly wish to make both of us smile from the bottom of your heart, then…Heh-” He makes a small sound of amusement, reaching out once more to pat her head, “You’d best enjoy this summer while it lasts.”
Abigail stared at him for a good couple of seconds, before chortling underneath a hand, rolling her eyes playfully, “You’re too much of a kind man, uncle.”
“—Edgy and cool too.”
A new voice joined in, causing both of them to look in Ritsuka’s direction, their Master holding sticks of barbeque on each hand.
In an instant, Abby brightened up and went to hug her, “Uwa~! Master! I missed you so much!”
“Hey, I was just a couple of tents away!” Still, she laughed alongside the blonde girl, “Ah, Emiya’s cooking barbeque and it’s so good! You guys have to try this!”
…And it was simply the three of them once more.
A rare instance having occurred once more, having made the mischievous little girl become happier than ever, his own laughter louder than usual as they talked, with Ritsuka in between them, ever bright like a star.
But once Abigail had left with a knowing smile, leaving them both alone together, did Ritsuka finally relax, leaning against his arm with a heavy sigh.
“Seems you’ve had quite the day again.”
He reached out to brush a lock of hair away from her ear, adjusting his position so she could comfortably rest against him.
“Ah, yeah. Nero decided to revive her NeroFest in the middle of summer but it went wrong as Gilgamesh hijacked it… with Space Ishtar doing the same, again…So the clean up is still taking a while. But at least I finally got a couple of hours here at the beach as break…late as that was…”
Seeing exhaustion in her gaze, Monte Cristo reaches down to lift her chin up, pressing his lips against her forehead for just a second. He does not have the power to heal her, but at least, even touch such as this would always be enough to make her smile.
And she does. She makes a surprised sound, then a fond little laugh that makes his treacherous heart skip a beat as she moves to wrap her arms around his waist, him adjusting as well to rest a hand on the small of her back.
“You also look like you’re in a good mood today. Did something happen when you talked to Abby?” Though she asked, there was still that hint of a knowing smile on her face, “Eh, but I think I already know what you two talked about.”
The Avenger clicked his tongue, smirking, unable to hide the shade of pink that dusted his cheeks, “Hoh? There’s no need for me to mention it then. Seeing as the firmness of your hold on me has never diminished, despite knowing of the danger I pose.”
Just being reminded of the fact that Ritsuka still chooses to embrace him even as she is in peril of becoming prey to a tiger barely held back by its Master’s chain made it all the more difficult to resist.
Though, he supposes, he is the one who willingly clipped the collar on himself, willingly damned himself just so he could see the star before him shine bright to achieve what she’s always been reaching out to.
“Pfft, danger?” She replied with a grin, then looked up at him, tilting her head just so to expose the very faint bruise on her neck he gave her a few days ago, her smile turning into a smirk, “Yeah, you’re definitely my favorite kind of danger.”
—!!
Hearing her unexpected words, Monte Cristo chokes on air, his hand coming up to pinch her cheek, “Cease!” He hissed, clicking his tongue while he did his best to pretend the skip of his heart beat didn’t exist as well as the blood that rushed to his ears, “Do not tempt my flames to scorch you alive, Master.”
The same hand that pinched her moves to tenderly cup her face, faces drawn close, their lips almost brushing, as he continued with a hushed tone, almost hissing, “Or is that what you want?”
Far too easily for someone such as her, she closes her eyes, and nuzzles into his hand.
“...I really wouldn’t mind it if it's from you.”
…
…
His defenses had already been weakened enough with Abigail having brought up a topic he never thought would get addressed… Of course, there was only so much his heart could prepare for when it came to his star.
Far too easily, for someone such as him, the man gives up, resolve and glare dissolving into a heavy sigh, pulling her instead into an embrace.
But for Ritsuka, it seemed she had been taken aback, but just a little. “Eh? Thought you’d have a little more resistance than this, Count…” But she welcomes it nonetheless, returning the hug, the gesture oozing satisfaction and happiness.
Monte Cristo clicked his tongue, pulling away, “Tsk, pay it no mind. However, if you know of my condition, then you’d truly best be restraining me, as even my ‘determination’ could have such limits.”
Limits.
He has never known such a thing. When he had been at the height of his revenge, it was a concept beyond him, but his fires had eventually died down in the face of the princess who he had had a happy ending with.
But in this life of his–cursed existence he may be as the man famously remembered to have had his revenge, forever etched onto the Throne as an Avenger, never to manifest in any other Class than this one…
He was able to meet such a dazzling fate.
And she takes the gesture as a cue to sit down on his lap, letting her body press against his own, her thighs caging his hips, and her arms crossing at his nape.
“But isn’t that one of the reasons why we spend the night together, at least once every couple of weeks?” This tiny, bright smile she gives him was enough to silence all of his inner turmoil in less than a second, “I don’t really mind how bad the bruise is… It just makes me happy that you’re not bottling the urge up.”
The Avenger stares at her. Really, stares at her intensely , as if in disbelief just how beautiful the jewel, the star before him shines, making sure none of her actions betrayed her words.
When she tilted her head, however, he gave up with a sigh, and moved to roughly capture her lips, their teeth clacking a little painfully from the impact.
Does she know?
Does she know just how much her words, her smile, her very existence affected him?
Does she know the extent of how deeply he already aches for her every second she is not within his sight? (Every second he isn’t inside her, the very place his first body had grown accustomed to–)
Did she even know that she was always testing his patience whenever she would be far too sweet with him? Whenever she simply looked his way or thought about him?
In deepening the kiss, Ritsuka melts in his assault, opens herself up to him further, giving herself to him even when they both know just how thin the tightrope was everytime they walk down this path.
But for her, just for her alone–
Just for this star he cradled in his arms, the Count of Monte Cristo shall endure anything– he could take on anything and everything , just for her .