"I didn't have to put much effort into getting through the bounded field here."
The silver-haired woman spoke calmly as she lit another cigarette.
"..."
Kiritsugu stood silently, staring at the house that had once been filled with so many precious memories of Shirley.
Now it was nothing more than a blazing inferno.
After a long silence, he answered her question with one of his own, his voice still hoarse from crying.
"...Are you angry?"
"Whether I made it in time or not was mostly a matter of luck."
"If that man had escaped..."
"He would've continued researching the Dead Apostles somewhere else."
"Heh."
The silver-haired woman let out a faint, derisive laugh.
Yet beneath it lingered a trace of sympathy.
"As excuses for a child killing his own father..."
"That's a pretty terrible one."
"You're a good person."
Kiritsugu said it with genuine sincerity.
The woman flicked her half-smoked cigarette into the sea of flames.
"If you want to live, stay behind me."
"I'll get you off this island."
"As for everything after that..."
"You'll have to figure it out yourself."
"Thank you."
Kiritsugu answered without the slightest hesitation.
He could die.
But not now.
If he was going to die...
Then his death had to mean something.
Not here.
Not on this island.
Not like some nameless worm crushed beneath someone's boot without purpose.
From this day forward...
This life, stained with sin...
Would no longer belong to himself alone.
"Before we leave..."
"Is there anything you want to take with you?"
The woman paused, then suddenly realized something.
"Ah... right."
"I forgot."
"After this fire..."
"Everything except you has probably burned to ashes."
"It doesn't matter."
Kiritsugu shook his head.
"Other than this life I've somehow managed to keep..."
"I have nothing left worth taking."
There was neither joy nor sorrow in his voice.
In a single night...
The spirit of a young boy had withered into a hollow tree.
"Kiritsugu... what kind of adult do you want to become?"
"I want... to become a hero of justice."
...
Afterward...
Following negotiations and political bargaining among the adults involved, the silver-haired woman successfully secured the boy named Kiritsugu Emiya from both the Mage's Association and the Holy Church.
The Mage's Association also agreed that, upon reaching adulthood, Kiritsugu would inherit twenty percent of Norikata Emiya's Magic Crest, ensuring he wouldn't have to rebuild the Emiya lineage's magecraft from nothing.
Rumble—!
Beneath a lonely, star-filled sky...
The silver-haired woman piloted the very speedboat Norikata had prepared for his escape.
Together, she and Kiritsugu departed the small Southeast Asian island that had forever changed the course of his life.
"...By the way."
"What's your name?"
It was almost laughable.
Even now, Kiritsugu still didn't know the name of the woman who had saved his life...
Or the woman who had promised to take responsibility for his future.
"Natalia Kaminski."
"Remember it well."
She grinned broadly.
"Because that's your 'mother's' name now."
Before Kiritsugu could respond, Natalia wrapped one arm around the boy's shoulders and pulled him into her ample embrace.
She vigorously ruffled his hair with a laugh while effortlessly steering the speedboat one-handed toward the distant horizon.
...
In the blink of an eye...
Ten years passed.
"Hss..."
The frail, undersized boy had grown into a young man.
Now he lay on a silver operating table that looked anything but legitimate, gritting his teeth against the agony.
A surgical lamp shone directly overhead.
Thick white bandages were wrapped tightly around both his chest and back.
Fresh blood slowly seeped through the fabric.
Sweat covered Kiritsugu's face.
The intense pain twisted his brow into a deep frown.
"It hurts, doesn't it?"
Natalia sat nearby with one leg crossed over the other, a cigarette hanging from her lips.
A teasing smile played across her face.
"It's rare to see an expression like that from you."
The scattered light from the operating lamp illuminated her features.
She looked exactly the same as she had ten years ago.
Still strikingly beautiful.
Still dangerously alluring.
As though time itself had forgotten to touch her.
"A magus spends their entire life bearing the pain of a Magic Crest."
"Your father certainly gave you an appropriate name."
"It seems he placed great expectations on you."
"Don't mention that man in front of me."
"Oh?"
Natalia raised an eyebrow.
"So you've grown up enough to talk back now?"
Still wearing her familiar black trench coat, she stood, walked over to the struggling Kiritsugu, and effortlessly pushed him back down onto the operating table.
"Settle down."
"Listen carefully."
"Your Origin is Severing and Binding."
"It's subtly different from simple destruction and restoration."
She picked up a length of string.
"If you cut a string..."
"And then tie the ends back together..."
"The knot is thicker than the original thread, isn't it?"
"Your Origin embodies that same kind of..."
"Irreversible change."
She chuckled softly.
"'Kiritsugu'..."
"'Sever'... then 'bind.'"
"It really couldn't be a more fitting name."
Then she placed a briefcase on the nearby table and opened it.
Inside...
Rows of bullets were arranged with meticulous precision.
Brass casings.
Silver projectiles.
"Ordinarily..."
"Transplanting a Magic Crest isn't nearly this painful."
"But while performing your surgery..."
"I removed several of your ribs."
"W-What?"
Kiritsugu stared at her in shock.
She had never mentioned anything like that before the operation.
"Oh, don't look so victimized."
Natalia laughed mischievously.
"Most people have twenty-four ribs."
"Some are born with one extra."
"Some with one fewer."
"You happened to be one of the lucky ones with extras."
"So after removing a few..."
"You've simply become one of the people with fewer."
"It won't affect your health."
She smiled as though discussing something utterly ordinary.
"The human body..."
"Is fascinating, isn't it?"
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