Chapter Text
The Fuyuki Municipal Homurahara Elementary School, Room 302- November 18th
The young girl had learned that silence was safer than speaking and that stillness was preferable to drawing attention to herself.
Sakura Matou sat at her desk, her small hands folded neatly on the faded scratches of her wooden desk left by long-forgotten students from years past. Her violet eyes fixed upon the various drawings and hurriedly scribbled excerpts on the chalkboard, courtesy of her literature teacher, Mr. Miyazoko.
She noted a few details worth paying attention to on the chalkboard. It wasn't like she didn't already know all of this. Reading was one of her few joys.
Thor, Ragnarok, Olympus, and the Hydra of Lerna were all legends she'd previously read about. From what she could pick up, he was talking about how serpents were often used as a narrative tool in mythology.
Monsters for the hero to slay.
Come to think of it, hadn't Grandfather said that the upcoming Holy Grail War that Uncle Kariya would join could summon figures from any point in time? Even myth?
Mr. Miyazoko droned on about mythology, of gods and monsters, heroes and legends, of the "Hero's Journey" they endured, and the battles that shaped the world as the people back then knew it. The air itself felt as stale and dull as his lectures. His soft-spoken voice barely broke through the thin wafts of pencil shavings, chalk dust, and the musty scent of too many children crammed into one room.
However, her mind had already begun to wander. Her eyes stared ahead at the blackboard filled with drawings and notes, not genuinely seeing anything the gray-haired teacher had written down, nor truly hearing the dull hum of his lecture.
"Now then, who can tell me about Yggdrasil and the creature most associated with it? Make sure to tell me why, in your opinion, they're important."
Sakura blinked, her thoughts snapping back into reality. A small jolt of anxiety struck her in the gut. Her grip on her pencil tightened, a desire to shrink in on herself suddenly washing over her. Awareness of everything and everyone around her took hold as she caught Mr. Miyazoko's brown eyes staring straight at her.
"Don't pick me. Don't call on me."
To her relief, a few scant yet eager hands shot up. Perhaps two or three? Mr. Miyazoko's gaze broke, and he pointed his finger at a male student two rows to her right. Slight relief pooled in her as the weight that had settled into her stomach began to lighten. A tiny breath slipped from her lips- one she hadn't noticed she'd been holding. Another moment passed before Sakura allowed her thoughts to bleed into a dull buzz again, knowing she'd have to copy the answers later.
There'd been a time when Mr. Miyazoko would have insisted that she answer. He'd tried before when she first entered his class. It was why she initially didn't like him for too long.
Mr. Miyazoko had insisted on pulling answers from her for questions she neither knew nor felt ready to voice in full view of the classroom. Eventually, he realized that his efforts were in vain. Those moments had been embarrassing and nerve-wracking, to say the least, for her. She was too slow, too quiet, and eventually, like all the others, he learned that silence was easier.
She knew she should have been paying attention to her lectures, taking notes, participating in class, talking with students, proving she belonged there. But she'd given up years ago. What was the point?
"Gloomy"
That's what they'd whisper when they thought she wasn't listening.
Those whispers always found their way to her in some way, shape, or form. Whether it stemmed from thinly veiled judgment or the morbid curiosity of her teachers who never dared to pry why she sometimes showed up pale and exhausted as if she'd been drained to the bone by a vampire. Those gazes pierced through her like daggers.
"They wouldn't be far off," she thought idly.
None dared to ask why preceding those times when she came in white as a sheet. Sakura Matou would disappear for days at a time spontaneously and without a medical excuse in hand. The staff had given her repeated warnings. Every time, they were forwarded to Byakuya Matou, her father-in-law. That'd been their first mistake. Those days she'd missed had become a problem, she knew. Sakura had received warnings throughout the year, but her grandfather's training had left her weak. Weaker than she already felt every day. And it left her body aching in agony. After a session in the worm pit, each step felt less like walking and more akin to dragging a boulder on her eight-year-old frame.
Even now, it still hurts.
They didn't care. To them, she was strange. Just a ghost moving through the hallways, just there. And in a way, they were right.
No one asked where she had been. They didn't care when she was gone for days at a time. That was fine. She didn't need them to care because she never expected them to.
But Rin should have.
The lessons had long since become background noise, just another monotonous part of a day that would end the same as every other. A deafening walk home, a silent dinner, a restless sleep, and sometimes... the pit. A dark place that filled her with a quiet dread. Though, in all honesty, she didn't mind the drab days.
Dull days meant she was safe. It meant people didn't see Sakura whenever her body shook from the strain of the writhing crest worms that infested her body and began to demand more mana from her.
The pit was never safe.
Sakura would readily admit to herself that she preferred these days far better than any that ended with Grandfather Zouken's hollow laugh ringing over her head as she was forcibly tossed... no, fed into the cavity like a rotten carcass, giving wordless permission to faceless, starving demons to gorge upon her mind, body, and soul.
Zouken had never explicitly prohibited her from enjoying her brief respites disguised as furthering her schooling, but he didn't need to.
Three years had passed since she had been given away, three years since she had been a Tohsaka, and in those years, everything was taken.
Her family.
Her name.
Her joy.
Her innocence.
Her body.
It had all been stripped away from her, piece by piece, leaving her adrift in a sea of decay, fragmented into mere remnants of what she once was. She was no longer a Tohsaka, just a tool. And every tool breaks at some point. Just Matou Sakura, the quiet girl who barely spoke and never caused an ounce of trouble as long as they overlooked her. Matou Sakura was the quiet girl that teachers should have gushed about for how well-mannered she was compared to the rowdy schoolchildren the faculty had been accustomed to dealing with daily. At least, that was what she tried to be.
Sakura was knocked out of her thoughts with a sudden jolt when she heard the bell-clear, bright, and utterly obnoxious to the group of restless students. The shuffle and bustle of the many bodies created a mishmash of indistinguishable sounds. Has so much time passed already? But before Sakura could rise from her seat, Mr. Miyazoko called her as he shuffled through his ungraded assignments and lesson plans.
"Matou Sakura, please report to the principal's office."
A murmur passed through the classroom as she stood. Some students ignored their teacher, preferring to hustle their way to the next class quickly, and for others, she could hear distinct murmurs passing through the lips of one pupil to another.
She didn't react to it, didn't acknowledge the handful of glances thrown her way. Some were blank stares, a simple response to seeing something mildly interesting before their attention went elsewhere. Others were curious. A sparse few displayed something the Matou girl couldn't quite pinpoint. Perhaps it was pity? Or maybe concern?
The walk to the office was a quiet affair, the weight of inevitability pressing down on her shoulders.
She knew what this was about. She'd been warned, but there was nothing she could do. Byakuya and Grandfather had been warned, but Byakuya never seemed to care, and if anything, the warning emboldened her Grandfather to increase her training regime even further. She wished that the school had never contacted them. All it meant at the end of the day was more time spent with worms that ignited a burning agony within her whenever they squirmed and demanded to be satiated. Their wriggles and cries were more akin to liquid lava traveling through her body than anything else.
"I missed too many days. Again." were the thoughts that quietly rang through her mind as she reached the front desk of the principal's office. Her breath caught in her throat as the secretary motioned her inside.
"Let me know if you guys need anything!" the secretary hollered over his shoulder, silently closing the door behind him, leaving Sakura alone with the principal. A soft click reverberated through the room before Sakura turned her gaze toward the principal, who was seemingly in the process of typing an email or perhaps a report.
She was a portly woman. Short and broad, not too dissimilar from an overly pampered and undisciplined pug that had long since forgotten the meaning of discipline and moderation, in her eyes. Dull brown eyes skimmed about, already bored by the prospect of a conversation that hadn't begun. The principal's choice of apparel even reflected that mood. She wore a basic yet slightly oversized cable-knit light blue cardigan sweater over a green blouse with no distinct features as far as she could tell.
Sakura's eyes shifted toward a plaque nailed on the wall behind the principal. Reading it, she couldn't help but feel that this was all a cruel joke.
"Certificate of Crisis Intervention and Child Protection"
The words were printed in bold font, although what font it was Sakura could not tell. Below it were the headlines, smaller text expounding on its qualifications:
"This document confirms that Ueda Rinko has achieved proficiency in "Crisis Intervention and Child Protection." She is qualified to manage and respond to critical situations involving at-risk youth, including cases of abuse and neglect."
A seal at the bottom, a shield with an embossed insignia, stamped for legitimacy. The words "Specialization in: Child Welfare Protocols, Intervention Strategies, and Mandatory Reporting Procedures" followed each phrase, carrying the weight of something that should have mattered.
Sakura's fingers curled into her uniform skirt. She read the certificate over as the ticking and clacking of Mrs. Rinko's beige-colored fingernails echoed throughout the empty office. It was all she could do to assuage her rapidly beating heart lest she inadvertently excite the crest worms within.
"Signed, The Board of Youth Protection Specialists."
She should have laughed. Maybe she would have if she hadn't been so exhausted.
Mrs. Rinko stopped typing, swiveling her feet and turning her gaze onto the student before her. Her hands now gripped a file wherein Sakura could read her name if she squinted at the corner of the file. The plump woman stared for a moment and took a large sigh more akin to someone going through the hundredth repetition of a tedious work process rather than someone ready to speak to another human being.
"Miss Matou... I trust you are aware of why I called you in here today?"
"I… I think-"
"Miss Matou..." she began once again, casually flipping through the thin file. "Your attendance record has been a cause for concern for this school for some time now. It was already a concern in previous school years and semesters. However, at this point, it has now reached an unacceptable level. Homurahara Elementary School and the staff have so far been more than lenient with these escapades of yours..."
"This is ridiculous," Sakura thought, her heart starting to tremble.
"You're not even looking at me."
"We have given repeated warnings both to your father and grandfather, but your absences have continued, and we've noticed a marked drop in your ability to meet academic expectations." Mrs. Rinko finished.
"Please."
Mrs. Rinko took another sigh once again, and the pitch of her voice changed to something sweeter. Rather than a stale loaf of bread, her speech now became more akin to the mild flavor of a crisp apple.
"Miss Matou, I understand that there may be… circumstances at home. But unless I, as your principal, can get some sort of communication from your parents or guardians, I don't think there is much we can do... sweety," she added at the last second before continuing once again. "With your continued absences, I do not feel like the school is adequately equipped to deal with your situation. We simply are unable to do so while this trend of absences continues, you can understand."
"Don't send me back."
"I wish that there was more I could do. However, Mr. Matou hasn't responded to any of our requests for a meeting, so I'm not sure what's left that we can do. Unless, of course, you have any new information. Maybe he's more willing to come now?"
It should have been a father who should be here, not Byakuya, the small-statured child wanted to say, or mother even though the Matou's had no equivalent. Her clammy diminutive fingers squeezed in on themselves just thinking about them.
Three years!
"I-I don't think so, Mrs. Rinko. I'm sorry," she muttered, bobbing her head slightly downward.
She should have expected this. She had expected this to an extent. And yet, there was some foolish and hopeful part of her, something naive and foolish that believed maybe, just maybe, someone other than Uncle Kariya might have fought for her.
"Isn't Uncle Kariya coming home to summon his servant for the Grail War today?" a part of her wondered in concern.
Mrs. Rinko halted, letting out a deep sigh as she absorbed Sakura's words, expected as they were.
"I understand that there may be difficulties at home," she finally continued. "But rules are rules. All students have to at least be consistently present to receive an education. I regret to inform you that, effective immediately, I must expel you. There is nothing more we can do on our end."
For as quickly as that moment of shock had come, it had taken even less time for it to return to its original state. Even Mrs.Rinko found herself briefly stunned, unexpecting of the swift reaction of the typically muted girl. If she hadn't seen it for herself, she would have doubted it.
She spoke once again after shaking off her initial shock. "If you feel that this decision was unjust, you also have the option to appeal directly to the board of education. Just go to our website, and you should be able to find the form. I think it's titled-"
"I understand," Sakura interjected, her voice quiet, almost mechanical, her earlier shock having completely faded. The words left her mouth without effort or emotion. She stood, bowing politely. "Thank you for your time."
The principal hesitated, her lips parting slightly as if debating whether or not she should say something more. Some kind of empty platitude, maybe, or a question.
"I hope things get better for you, Miss Matou."
But by then, Sakura had stopped listening to her. She had turned on her heel and left the office.
"Expelled."
It should have hurt more. Yet, all she could feel was utter exhaustion.
She walked through the hallways in a daze, her feet having long since started shuffling aimlessly.
As she passed her classroom, she hesitated, eyes flicking toward the door. For a moment, she considered rejoining her class as if nothing had happened. Close out the day in class the proper way.
There was also one teacher she had quietly cherished, a mild-mannered, older woman who had never pried but had always been patient with her. Her name was Ito Sumi. Perhaps she should visit? Say a few words and thank her.
There had also been another classmate with short auburn hair and golden-brown colored eyes, a girl who had once shared her lunch when Sakura had forgotten hers. Didn't she also have an older brother with those same traits? Yes, she did. If Sakura recalled correctly, his name began with an "Sh". Shero, or Shiru, maybe?
Sakura wandered forth aimlessly and simply drifting, with her hands loosely curled at her sides.
She wasn't sure how long she had been walking. Minutes? Hours? It all seemed to blend now. Thoughts of visiting any past acquaintances drifted further into the back of her mind.
It didn't matter. The halls of Homurahara Elementary began to blur together, the disorienting sounds of muffled chatter and laughter melding into a chaotic symphony that echoed her disarray. She had spent the rest of the school day like this, wandering from one hallway to the next, moving without care.
No one stopped her.
No one noticed. In truth, they never did.
Sakura Matou might as well have been a ghost.
It was only the distant hum of chatter and the distinct chime of the final dismissal bell that finally snapped Sakura out of her daze, finding herself near the entrance of the school where a security guard stood guard near a metal detector and desk. A precaution that had been installed due to the increase in crime in the city of Fuyuki.
As if a spell had just been lifted from her, Sakura blinked her violet eyes with renewed clarity. She then swiveled her gaze toward the courtyard where students had begun to gather in small bunches, chatting, laughing, arguing, and screaming as they waited for their parents to take them home. All the while they were being overseen by vigilant teachers wary of any students that would run off without their guardians present to pick them up.
She could feel the rush of the brief gusts of air from the outside world as the doors opened and closed to make way for students rushing out, eager to finally leave the boring lectures and suffocating structure of school and return to their homes.
That was when she saw her.
Two figures lingered near the front gate, casually chattering with each other. Both appeared to be students. The one that had caught her attention between the two clad in a cleanly pressed uniform, her black hair neatly tied back with a crimson ribbon and bright aqua-stained eyes that Sakura remembered.
Rin Tohsaka.
Her sister.
Sakura inhaled sharply. Something felt as if it was clamping down on her chest tight and suffocating. Before she knew it, her steps motioned towards Rin upon seeing the other student leaving.
Rin now stood alone, her expression passively neutral as she stared at the road through the bars of the front gate. The lack of tension in her shoulders, the way she held herself, it all spoke of someone who had nothing to worry about. Someone self-assured in who they were and what they could do. Someone who knew that they stood above their peers in the academic world of Japan.
Someone who was waiting to be picked up by their mother.
Sakura stopped for a moment, pivoting her face to the tips of her feet, pithily wondering what she was doing. Yet with a renewed resolution, she clenched her fists and began walking once more.
For the first time in what felt like hours, she spoke. "Rin."
Rin turned her head slightly to the source of the soft voice she'd heard call out, her eyebrows raising just a fraction before her lips parted in brief astonishment.
"Sakura?"
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Sakura felt heat rapidly rushing to her cheeks as the silence between them stretched.
"What am I doing? Why did I even come?" she thought to herself.
Sakura swallowed, feeling more uncertain about her actions than she had a moment ago.
"Then... I should just tell her. Maybe she'll..."
"I got expelled," she said flatly. There was no point in sugarcoating it.
Rin blinked. "What?"
Sakura hesitated, as if carefully mulling over her next words before stepping forward.
"I can't come back here."
A flicker of something passed Rin's face, but it was quickly schooled into something unreadable. "Expelled?" she repeated, her light brows furrowing. "What happened?"
Sakura shifted slightly, glancing at the pavement beneath her shoes. "For missing too many days."
A beat of silence once again overtook the two sisters. Rin didn't say anything, but Sakura could discern the reluctance in her stance, the way her hands twitched slightly at her sides and her lips pursed together.
"I… I'm sorry to hear that." Rin finally said, her voice coming out as more of a whisper than her usual confident speech, her eyes averted from the younger of the pair. Then her eyes found a new object of interest away from Sakura and instead transferred over to the side.
"It doesn't sound... kind."
"Big sister, why are you being like this? I just wanted..."
Another pause. Rin opened her mouth as if to say something but wavered at the last second and closed it once more.
Sakura's fingers curled against the fabric of her skirt.
"I thought I should tell you because I don't know when I'll be able to see you again. I think I'll have to transfer to a different school, but we probably won't be in the same school again until high school... I think," she spoke quietly.
There it was. One last chance for both of them! Rin couldn't just leave things like this, right?
She wasn't sure what she was hoping to hear from her elder sister. Perhaps some sort of protest, a declaration that she'd get father to talk to the principal, or some vague promise to stay in touch. Maybe even something as simple as acknowledgment.
But Rin hesitated again. And when she spoke, her words were carefully restrained, sounding more like a polite stranger than a close sibling.
"I… I see. I hope so, as well. I'm sure you'll be fine until then."
"That's it? That's all you have to say? Why are you being so mean, Rin? I don't understand!" she wanted to scream.
"Sakura, I-"
For just a second, Sakura thought she might say something else, but Rin never finished her sentence. Her fingers twitched just barely, but then she looked past her younger sister's eyes, which widened in shock and then relaxed in relief.
Sakura turned at her heels with just enough rotation to catch a glance at what had interrupted their talk.
A woman with soft brown hair, warm eyes, and a gentle smile was making her way across the courtyard. Aoi Tohsaka.
Rin immediately took a step back. "I have to go, I'm sorry," she said quickly, her tone shifting to something almost apologetic. Rin stepped forward but paused with a jolt.
And then, just like that, as if there was no conversation to be had, she ran to her mother. Their mother.
Sakura didn't move.
She didn't call after them as much as she had wanted to. Her grandfather had forbidden her from contacting her former parents. She didn't know how, but he always seemed to know what she was doing at any given time.
She stood, watching as Rin reached their mother's side. Aoi greeted Rin, gently pressing her hand against Rin's hair. Then, she was ushered to walk by the elder woman's side, hands wrapped together, with a warmth that had been lost to Sakura years ago.
Sakura could feel a lump forming in her throat.
"LOOK AT ME!" her thoughts raged as she held her blank stare. Her shoulders shook, and her fingers dug into her school uniform like blades.
"I hate you, I hate all of you!"
Her heart seethed in uncomprehending indignation. Why? Why did this always happen? Did she commit some crime in a past life? Is that why she was always in last place? Her elder sister hadn't even tried to talk to her! None of them had!
Left behind. Again! The thought dug into her heart like a serrated dagger, twisting and grinding as if burying itself within her like the crest worms infesting her body.
Sakura felt her teeth grind on top of one another, and her fingers curled tightly, nails pressing into her palm. Had she been older and stronger, she would have surely broken through the epidermis and drawn blood from the pressure she was exerting.
She would not cry.
She couldn't!
She had cried enough for a lifetime.
She hadn't shed a single tear in years.
Without another word, she walked past the courtyard, past the clusters of students, past the school that no longer wanted her.
No one stopped her.
No one noticed.
Authors Notes:
To any Sakura fans out there... sorry!
The next chapter will be up by next week and will start being cross-posted on other sites as well. Each or at least most chapters will also have a corresponding companion piece coming out as well. So, for example, a chapter introducing a new servant would have a companion piece with that servant's stats and some basic info you'd find on a wiki (Likes, dislikes, height, etc)
This is my first foray into fanfics as a Fate fan and as an adult, so any feedback or critiques are appreciated! I'll also respond to any comments in this chapter.