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A rather red shade from the window makes his hair looks even more fiery than before. His eyes widen at the smeared red on his Master's white fabric. His tall figure looming over Master's body, gritting his teeth, gripping his fist. He looks like a real demon as of now. One could tell how the rage has reached his forehead, and how close he is to snapping.
Master isn't clueless to this fact too. He smiles weakly to the red haired Berserker, "Not mine... Not my blood..," before then he completely blacks out. His consciousness fails, and he falls even further to Arash's shoulder. The Archer was the one to carry him after the rayshift. Looking even messier than the master; one of the pockets on each side of his hip now gone, on the fabric near his knee is a visible reddish brown stain, on his arm, a wound... Ah, this should be the source of the bloodstain on Master's clothes.
"Ah, careful... Careful..," Arash speaks to himself. Before then he noticed a glare burning a hole through him, Mori is still there. Still standing firm, so tense he looks like he's about to pop a vein. All may know that he wouldn't take a hint, wouldn't pay attention to the wound on Arash's flesh. Blinded, he can only see one thing clear; the dripping blood on Master's chest. Before anything could happen though, The Archer politely displays a friendly smile, "Would you like to be the one to carry him to the medical ward?"
"What happened to my Master?" His voice deep and dark. He gathered all his patience to form that sentence alone. Arash however, gestures the taller man to take the Master from his shoulder, "You can carry him better, right?"
Mori's jaw—that has been clenching tight—now loosen a little so he could speak his answer. But before he could mutter any, the Archer explains; "Don't worry, the wound isn't on his chest. It's on his knee—we had a pretty bad fall 's all! I'm sure he passed out from exhaustion."
Even through his thick skull, Mori can tell the sincerety of Arash's words. He has no reason to bash this man's head onto the wall now, no reason to slice through him. But he takes Master's smaller body into his arms a little too abruptly from Arash. His rage hasn't all converted into concern, but keeping the Master alive is his priority right now. Clenching the body a little too firm it makes the Master squirms a bit on his now sleeping state. The Archer bids them farewell before making his way to the opposite direction.
Dr. Roman had hurriedly prepared some beds upon the team's arrival before hand. He received a report of three people having experienced injuries, including the Master. "Put him down here, please!" He points to one of the mattresses.
"This ain't life threating or something right, Doc?"
"Hmm...," Dr. Roman is taking his time answering—checking the pulse, checking the temperature, and the rest of Master's body. Making sure that it's really not life threatening. Mori clicked his tongue on this wasted seconds, "Oi! Answer me!"
"No! No! Hold on for a bit, please...! It's not life threatening but I need to do my check ups still!" The Doctor also puts his finger in front of his mouth, signaling the big guy to keep his voice down. There's a patient here after all.
A patient.
One...
"Mori Nagayoshi, right? Did you see two other Servants heading to this room? There should be more of them with injuries, or so I heard...."
"Huh," he couldn't careless, "think that one Archer looked pretty bad."
Dr. Roman jolts from his seat, exhaling a big stress of sigh before heading to the exit. Telling Mori to watch over the Master before leaving, mumbling about how these bunch of Heroes couldn't just let him do his job.
"He's gone?" A voice a little louder than a whisper froze his ears. The Master is awake.
Yellow eyes staring stern as a response—Mori yells directly from on top of his lungs, "Master?! Who hurt you? I'll hunt them down!" If he could yell even louder, he'd shatter every windows in this room.
"Not so loud, Mori... You're making my head ring..," he struggles a bit to sit up. Mori rushed to support his Master's back even though it's probably better for him to lay down and stay still. That didn't cross his mind, he's just here to make sure that Master is well after all. Now even the memory of him glaring down a fire to Arash back there evaporated without him even realizing. The sight of Master sitting up, rubbing his eyes from the drowsiness calms his temper. Unless a name would slip out of Master's mouth then he'd walk out to slaughter a man, or a woman, or anyone, really.
The small palm reaches out to his shoulder. Giving it a tap, reassuring him with a tired smile, "I'm home."
"Welcome home, Master," He sighed. Mori couldn't feel the Master's hand through his clothes very well, but he could feel a little weight shifts.
"You were so worried, weren't you?" The smaller man chuckled.
"Of course I did. I didn't hear a damn thing about this expedition from ya."
"Ooh... Forgot to tell you. Sorry, okay?" It's not like it's his fault, Mori knows this. Master doesn't have to tell any unrelated Servant about his missions, this is just something he'd say. He'd say it because he is kind. But this won't guarantee anything—unless asked, Master still wouldn't notify him about other missions unrelated to him in the future.
"Will you tell me 'bout the next missions, then?" He decides it won't do any better if he doesn't ask anyway.
"I'll call you when I need you, don't worry."
His bigger hand covers Master's on his shoulder, now he looks less playful, "Every other missions too. I ain't havin' 'nother heart attack seein' you covered in blood like this."
Master's eyes practically glisten. Warmth surged through his face, he smiles awkwardly to the sharp golden gaze, "That... Flatter me, but, you know... It's not like I come home with this shape everytime." Usually other Servants wouldn't ask about any missions unrelated to them. Even if they're interested about the Singularity or any event in some eras at all, they'd just ask the Master—or even Mash—after the expedition itself finished. He sees no reason for Mori to know, that's all. The racing heartbeat of his doesn't explain anything either.
"Lettin' me know before you go wouldn't be that hard, ain't it, Master?"
"Er.. well, no. I guess, okay then," he nods. Mori lets go of the smaller hand from his grasp. Grinning now, satisfied, thrilled even.
"That's great!"
His laugh filled this room. Master couldn't help but laugh a little too. They chat a bit now, about what happened. As Arash explained, they had a bad fall. They were supposed to escape by running down the hill, but the ground was pretty slippery. Mash stayed a bit behind to shield the rest of the team from any bullets, Yan Qing stayed close to her as her support. Arash was the one to find the Master struggling to even stand. They ended up fleeing safely after, with just a few casualties.
"So that other injured Servant is the Assassin guy?"
"Yeah. Well..., he wouldn't want to call those wounds as injuries, you see."
"Hahahaha! You ain't becoming a warrior if some bits a' bullets graze could bother you!"
"That's not it! You still gotta take care of your body!" Master's eyebrows furrow. Mori laughs even louder. If there are any other patients around here, well, they won't be resting.
When Mori's laugh fade, Master found himself staring to the window right beside his bed. It's rare for this place to look this quiet—with no blizzard, no wind, no nothing. The sky is strangely clear. It has a tint of red over the darkened clouds. Even farther the sky presents a vermillion. It shines through the window, showering his face with yellow. Now that he noticed the twilight—he looks back at Mori, who was now staring at him intently. The shade of reddish yellow painted his face nicely, as if he was specially sculpted and designed for these colors to pour on him. He looks fiery red. This demon looks sweetly warm—a term not anyone would utter to his face.
"Say, Mori, what's with you and your claims?" Too vague of a question. It wouldn't make it through Mori's skull. What was it that crossed through the Master's mind that prompted him to ask a question such as this one?
"What? I ain't claiming shits."
Master chuckled at his response. Well he claimed that he's strong, and he's good at making tea, and doing a tea ceremony, and writing, and he claimed that he likes reading, and he respects his lords. More importantly though, "Even to other Servants you'd say that I'm your Master. I mean, I'm their Master too. You're all the Servants I contracted after all."
"But you're also mine though."
Master's eyes widen, "Excuse... me?"
Confusion plastered all over Mori's face, "Well, ya just said that. I'm your Servant, I'm yours. You're my Master, you're mine 's all."
"??? That... isn't wrong.... But...," he gave up on forming a coherent sentence. It's not wrong, just as he said. But for god's sake, maybe the Berserker should tone it down a notch or this poor Master's heart would just outright jump out of his ribcage.
"What's wrong, Master? Ya got concussion or somethin' ?"
Seeing the light from outside caressing his Servant's face, making it seems warm enough for his cheek to rub on, doesn't help either. The smaller man sighed, massaging his own temple, "Sheesh.... Alright. Thought you got feelings for me and all that stuff." He got his hopes up, didn't he? Now he feels kind of bad for himself. There's no way this super cool fighter in all his glory would feel something as insignificant as crush. No matter, he can manage his own crush for Mori on his ow—
"Oh, that's what you mean? Yeah I do."
"What"