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He's different.
Were it anybody else, Karna is certain he wouldn't have noticed the subtle differences, but he knows Arjuna like the back of his hand. He sees how he's always carried himself, with his shoulders squared and his head held up, eyes sharp and always looking forward—but he is tense, polite yet purposefully distant, holding every card right against his chest.
But he sees the change. One day, standing tall with a familiar austerity, and the very next day, a shift. His shoulders aren't as tight. His eyes are a little warmer, and he no longer stays so withdrawn into himself when Ritsuka speaks to him.
It's a welcome sight.
Karna only stays as long as he needs to, when he sees him around Chaldea. Just long enough to take it in for himself, to see the tangible effect that Ritsuka has had on him. Their relationship is still awkward; Arjuna isn't sure how to interact with him, and Karna isn't sure how to interact with anybody. But they're speaking to each other more actively, at least, and Arjuna isn't as stilted as he used to be whenever he needs to talk to him about something, and during fights where their cooperation is necessary, they work together smoothly.
If this is the best their relationship will get, it's still leagues above what they had before. Karna considers it a victory either way.
Most if not all of his nights are spent out late helping Da Vinci with something. He's used to walking through the halls when they're dark and desolate, his fingers still feeling slightly greasy from what he assisted her with, and he still feels the shape of the tools that he'd held on to for her in his hands. Occasionally there are other people out; sometimes it's Servants coming back from a long sparring session in the simulators, but, more commonly, it's a Servant returning to their own room after an extended bout of drinking, or sex, or both, with another Servant—he has lost count of the amount of people he's seen coming out of Medb's room.
He has to pass through the cafeteria on the way back to his room, and the light is on in the kitchen area. It makes him take pause, for a second, because it's late, and the light is too bright for someone to simply be getting something out of the fridge.
And then he hears swearing from a voice that's all too familiar.
“Gh…damn it…”
Karna hesitates. His presence might not be wanted right now, and could make things worse, depending on how bad his mood is. But he would rather get snapped at than leave be someone who's in need of help.
He makes his way into the kitchen area, and sees Arjuna with his white coat and gloves off, elbows resting on a stainless steel counter as he holds his head in his hand, grasping at his hair with his fingers in frustration, and he's so agitated he doesn't even notice Karna is there. Several utensils dripping with chocolate batter sit in multiple bowls that rest on flour-coated counter tops. Flour also mars a few spots on the floor, making Arjuna's shoe print a pattern on a small section of the laminated flooring. To the left of the stove is a baking sheet with a malformed, but seemingly perfectly edible cake on it—one of many, if the identical discarded desserts in a trash can left open give any indication.
“Is this something you should be doing this late?”
Karna finally speaks. Arjuna heaves a sigh at the sound of his voice, and his head turns as he glances at Karna out of the corner of his eye.
“…I don't want to hear any opinions you have about this right now. Just leave me alone.”
He's quiet for a moment, after that, staring at Arjuna with an inscrutable expression on his face.
“Are you doing this for Ritsuka?”
Arjuna heaves another sigh, this one sounding distinctly more irritated.
“Yes, I am. Now would you please go? If you stay here, you'll just be in my way.”
Arjuna takes one last deep breath before he brings his head out of his hands and walks over to the sink to wash them. Karna doesn't leave, just watches him silently, keeping his gaze on his brother even as he dries off his hands with a nearby towel.
However, as Arjuna grabs the baking sheet and begins to take it over towards the garbage, he can't help but speak up.
“Why are you doing that? It looks fine.”
“It's hideous,” Arjuna says, and unceremoniously dumps it in the trash, on top of the other rejected attempts, “There's been something wrong with every one I've made so far. It needs to be perfect.”
He turns his back to Karna and grabs a large green bowl to start rinsing it and the rubber spatula inside of it clean. Karna's brow furrows, and instead of leaving, he takes another look around the kitchen. It really is a mess, and beyond that, he recalls this morning that Emiya had mentioned he'd set out a new bag of flour, but said new bag now sits half-empty, surrounded by sugar, baking soda, salt, and a few other ingredients he can't quite identify.
“…How long have you been doing this?” Karna can't help but ask. He's had to have been at this for at least a couple of hours.
“It doesn't matter,” Arjuna gives a non-answer, trying to keep his voice even, but he starts sponging the chocolate out of the bowl with more force than necessary, “If I need to stay here for the rest of the night, then so be it.”
“I imagine you've probably made several so far she would have been more than happy with, only to then discard them.”
“They weren't good enough. It's not—.” Arjuna's voice cuts off with a frustrated sigh, “It has to be perfect.”
“No, it doesn't.”
The bowl he's washing slams down against the sink.
“Yes it does!"
Water spills a little, out onto the counter and floor, and it goes silent. Neither of them say anything to break it. The sound of running tap water is all that fills the dead air.
Karna's lips part, as if he means to speak, but his eyes dart off to the side, and he can't think of anything to say. Arjuna is tense, but visibly trembling, head tilted down. He looks small. Ashamed.
“…I…” Arjuna finally starts, “…I want to thank her. For…everything she's done for me. For her kindness,” his voice is low and hoarse as he talks, raspy as his exhaustion catches up with him, “…So it has to be perfect. Nothing can be wrong with it. Not a single thing. It needs to be completely flawless.”
Karna just narrows his eyes and furrows his brow even more, lost in confusion.
“Why?”
Ritsuka will happily accept just about anything she's given as a gift, up to and including food that isn't edible, simply because she values her Servants that much and wants them to understand how much they're appreciated. Karna knows this, but he still sets a standard for himself when it comes to giving her gifts, and he makes strides to consistently reach it. And Arjuna should know it, as well—he's been summoned for just as long as he has. He's never seen Arjuna have such an intensity over something so incredibly mundane.
Arjuna's shoulders slump after Karna asks his question. The water is still running.
“…because I'm the one making it,” he whispers, “It has to be perfect to compensate for the fact that I'm the one making it.”
…
…Oh.
…
He…He wants to speak. He wants to say…something, something that could possibly alleviate this, or just make it slightly better at all. But he's not Ritsuka—he's woefully ill-equipped for a situation like this. She always seems to know just what to say to lift up dejected spirits, but he feels almost cursed to be eternally misunderstood. And with Arjuna, with how complicated, to put it lightly, their relationship is, how fraught and embittered and covered in each other's blood it's been, nothing coming from him would help. This has been a constant struggle of one step forward, two steps back.
So, instead, he'll stay quiet.
…But he's not going to just leave him here.
Karna moves towards him soundlessly. Arjuna doesn't react to his presence, nor does he react when Karna brings his hand up to turn the water off. Rushing water fades to nothing but a few occasional drips, and Karna reaches towards the small towel, holding it out for his brother. A second passes, then two, before Arjuna limply wipes his hands dry.
“It's late,” Karna says quietly, “It would be good for you to get some rest.”
'Servants don't need to sleep,' he thinks to himself, can just about feel Arjuna thinking to himself, as well, but after a beat, Arjuna lets his head fall.
“…I should clean up this mess.”
Karna glances at him, “…Will you allow me to help you?”
Arjuna takes a silent, deep breath, then slightly nods his head.
They don't speak to each other as they begin to put back the ingredients, wipe down the counters, sweep up the floor. Arjuna washes the bowls and utensils, then hands them to Karna once they're clean to subsequently be dried off. There is a heaviness to the air the entire time they work, and it's a bittersweet sensation, how this is the moment where they're the closest to familial that they've ever been.
The last dish gets dried. Arjuna stares blankly down at the sink once everything is done. Karna takes a second to think how to best respond, before deciding to turn around, gently placing his hand on Arjuna's bicep to guide him into doing the same.
“Come on,” he says softly, “There's no point in staying here.”
Arjuna doesn't resist, and lets himself be led out of the kitchen. As they near the exit, Karna hits the lights, and they leave the kitchen in darkness.
He can always try again tomorrow.