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She was sitting on the stone steps leading up to her mansion when he first arrived, and she greeted him with perfect absurdity. "You know, I broke the hearts of eight boys today, and three beautiful girls. One of them cried when I rejected him."
He set his suitcase down. "Is that so? You're a formidable foe as well as the heiress to the Tohsaka family fortune, then." He didn't know if she could hear his sarcasm.
It seemed she could, because she lifted her chin and glared at him for a moment before continuing. "See," she said, "see, I can't be your soulmate, because I'm sure the words on your body couldn't possibly say anything so fierce."
"So ridiculous, you mean," he said.
"Not at all," she said, leveling another glare at him. "My name is Rin, if you didn't know. You'll call me Miss Tohsaka like a proper servant."
"Very well," he said. "I'll take that under advisement, Rin."
The color rose on her cheeks. "You're really going to be so difficult?"
"That's correct," he said. "You can call me Archer, if you want."
"Maybe I'll call you stupid," she said.
He sighed. "How old are you, Rin?"
She seemed to miss the insult this time. "I turned eighteen last month," she said. "I would have had a really amazing party, if my family were still alive. But I was busy."
"You know," he said, picking up his suitcase again and starting up the steps, "there was a flaw in your logic from the start."
"That's impossible," she said. "I'm a being of pure and amazing logic, so that can't have happened."
"About the soulmate words," he said. "I'm a reverse."
"Oh," she said.
"That's right," he said. He lifted his left arm and rolled up his sleeve to study the words written there that only he could see. "I won't know anything about who my soulmate is until they speak their last to me. Not their first."
"How indecent," she said.
"Oh, do you really share those old prejudices?" he said. "Grow up, Rin." He paused. "One more thing."
"I don't have to listen to any more things from you, Archer," she said.
He went on anyway. "Do you know what it means when you make someone cry?"
"Of course I do," she said. "It means I've won."
But he saw her hesitate for just a second before she answered. He saw the lost look in her eyes before she spoke.
* * *
The summons had arrived three weeks earlier at the latest mine he'd been assigned to. At the time, Archer had almost forgotten what it was like to live under the sun, around people who didn't hate him, the supervisor who forced them to work in monstrous conditions.
He would have turned it down. This was his life now, after all. But it bore the Tohsaka family seal, and that was worth more than his pathetic life. They owned him, after all.
The patriarch of the family had died in an accident, as had his wife; he was to attend to their young daughter and take care of her every need. In addition to that, he was to use his mercenary skills to uncover the truth. Had it really been an accident that had sent the couple to their deaths, or the work of a rival gemstone dynasty?
He had had an image, then, of arranging for babysitters while stalking villains through the streets of distant cities. Surely they couldn't mean for him to return to Fuyuki City where he'd grown up so long ago and actually stay there, serving tea to a young lady.
But they did.
* * *
"Archer, did you have a father?" she asked him as he stirred the soup. It had been a few weeks since he arrived, and he'd had time to learn much of the Tohsaka family's affairs since then. Most of his time, however, had been spent watching over Rin.
"No," he said. "I was found under a cabbage leaf. It's really a sad tale."
"A cabbage leaf wouldn't fit over you," she said. "You're a large man."
"This may surprise you," he said, "but I was smaller as an infant. What spices do you want in the soup, Rin?"
"You're the chef, you decide," she said.
"I'm not a chef," he said, but he reached for the spice rack.
"I wonder," she said, "what it's like to grow up with a father and mother."
"Your parents lived till you were seventeen," he said.
"That's true," she said, "but it's not as if I saw much of them. When our fortunes took off, I was very young, and my parents became so busy. I'm sure my father did an amazing job of managing the family affairs, but I saw so little of him. I would have liked him to teach me about our gems."
"You wouldn't have," Archer said. His research had shown him that Tokiomi Tohsaka had actually been a terrible businessman. The Tohsaka clan owned many properties that had become quite successful, but by the time Tokiomi and his wife had died, they were deeply in debt. He had begun to suspect their deaths were arranged because someone thought it would be easier to reclaim money with only a teenage girl in the way. But what he said was, "The business he ran was a rotten one. The gemstone industry trades on images of love and the need for soulmates to exchange shiny jewelry, but it runs on exploitation and suffering."
"You're cruel, Archer," she said. "To destroy a girl's image of her father like that! You're very cruel. What did your father teach you, I wonder?"
"Why not ask about my mother instead?" He put the cover on the pot of soup for now.
"Well, what about your mother, then?" She watched him over the cup of tea he'd served her earlier.
"I don't remember her," he said. "I was orphaned in a fire, and my father adopted me afterwards. He was a great revolutionary who had fought in many wars, but he was retired from battle by that point and only wanted a family."
"I see," Rin said, and he suddenly wondered if she actually did. That would be worrisome.
* * *
After a few months, his investigations began to bear fruit, and it became dangerous. Someone out there knew that the deaths of Tokiomi and Aoi Tohsaka were being looked into, and they didn't care for this fact.
The brakes on his motorcycle failed suspiciously one night, and only his quick thinking and quicker body saved him from a short, fast, ugly death. Still, when he returned to the Tohsaka residence that night, his head was bloodied, his hands scraped.
"You're late," Rin said to him first, and then she changed her tune: "You're hurt, too. That's unacceptable; my Archer isn't allowed to get himself hurt. I didn't give you permission for it."
When had he gone from being her servant to being her Archer, he wondered? He said, "I made advances on a beautiful woman, and she beat me severely."
"I knew you were terrible like that," Rin said, although nothing about her eyes said that she believed him. "But I'm helpless without someone to make tea for me, so I'll clean your wounds. Come with me."
She led him to her personal bathroom, all decked out in gleaming marble, and she made him sit while she tended to his wounds. It stung, but the worry on her face stung more.
As she scrubbed at his face, she spoke of inconsequential things. "You know, Archer, I lied to you--that day you first arrived."
"Rin Tohsaka lies? Impossible," he said.
"It was only two boys and one girl I rejected," she said, "and I don't know if I broke their hearts. I'm sure they'll still find their soulmates. I'll keep rejecting more, though. I'll keep being rude and cruel to all my suitors."
"Are you going to tell me why?" he asked.
"Not tonight," she said. "Of course, it's probably just because I'm a cold person. I'm suited to this corrupt business after all." Her motions against his face had grown gentle. She touched his cuts and bruises very delicately. "Does it hurt, Archer?"
"Terribly," he said. It didn't hurt at all anymore. "You're truly cruel."
"Good," she said. "That's my purpose."
* * *
A few nights later she shared a bottle of fine wine with him. He would have waved it away, but her enthusiasm was too great to dismiss.
"You're wasting it on me," he said, but he drank.
"I know," she said. "I'm too young, so I don't know the value of an expensive wine. I just grabbed one with a pretty label out of our wine cellar." She watched him drink.
"It isn't even that pretty," he said. She was prettier, he did not say.
After he'd finished a cup, she asked, "Archer, you don't like anything about my family, not even our wine, so how did you come to serve them?"
He said nothing. She filled his glass with more wine. He finally said, "I didn't serve them; they owned me. There's a difference."
"That sounds terrible," she said.
He drank more wine. "Well, everything about my life is terrible, so it's no surprise. I used to be a great hero, you know? I fought in many wars on the side of justice. Trying to free people from oppression...trying to save them."
"Oh, who knew my Archer was a hero," she said, her eyes bright. Was it the wine? Had she even drunk any of it herself?
"I used to be," he corrected her. He finished his current glass of wine and felt very warm. "But it accomplished nothing in the end. Something always corrupted the new regime as much as the last. I realized I was only being used, and I grew sloppy. Someone betrayed me to the authorities, so they were going to execute me."
"How awful," Rin said as she poured him more wine.
He drank. His control over his tongue was growing unstable, as untrustworthy as his heart, but still he managed to guard himself enough to say, "I wanted to survive, so I sold myself to your family in exchange for their protection." He had sold himself to the Tohsaka dynasty because he had thought, back then, that a clean death was too good for someone like him. Better to serve the very forces he'd been fighting. That was a fitting punishment.
"I'm glad you survived," Rin said, "Archer." She looked at him seriously. "You've had a lot of wine..."
"Only three glasses," he said.
She smiled brightly. "Who knew my Archer was a lightweight?"
"Rin," he said, as understanding dawned, "you—"
She cut him off. "Forget about your stupid past! You're here with me now. Will you kiss me?"
He blinked.
Her face was bright with her blush. "I said it! Did you hear? Will you kiss me?"
The wine made him slow, but still he spoke with authority. "I think not, Rin." Good; he had enough self-control left to deny her, though her eyes were beautiful right then. "I am only a reverse, after all. What would anyone think?"
* * *
In the morning, he made her breakfast, though his head was pounding with pain. It had been a fairly sweet wine, which made the hangover worse.
Rin sat at the table, her head hanging low with her shame. Finally, she said, "I'm sorry about last night, Archer."
"You should be," he said.
"I really wanted to know," she said. "Why you are the way you are. Why I can be cruel to you, but you stay at my side. Everyone else I'm cruel to leaves like they're supposed to."
"I can't leave," he said.
"You could," she said. "I don't have the power to chase down every asset of my family's that slips through my fingers. I don't really know anything about having this kind of power, and how to use it."
"Then," he said, "I should try to teach you. About politics and such things. But Rin, you already glare like a queen."
"Yes, I can do that, at least," she said. "But it's not enough. I must also learn to be fair, so I'll start with you. I got answers out of you last night, so I'll give you answers this morning in turn. It's an equation, an equivalency."
"Oh, so you can do math," he said as he scrambled the eggs. "Rin, answer this: you're a reverse too, aren't you?"
She stared at him. "How did you know?"
"Well, it's like this," he said. "You're willing enough to talk to people the first time, but you reject them again and again. You say mean things until they go away."
"Yes, that's because I'm above them," she said, "and I like to make it very clear. I like to win, Archer."
"That too," he agreed, "but that's not all of it. What are your soulmate words, Rin?"
"You'll really get it wrong if I tell you," she said. "You'll misunderstand completely."
"But you are a reverse," he said.
"It's true," she said. "I'm kind of indecent like that. Just like you. All right, I'll tell you what the words are."
He checked the eggs to make sure they weren't burning, then set down his spatula. "Yeah?"
"They're 'I love you,'" she said. "Isn't that terrible? It's awful, so I don't ever want anyone to say those words to me."
"I see," he said. "Don't worry, Rin." He smiled. "I'll never say a thing like that to you."
"Idiot!" She flushed, her cheeks going very hot. "I'm not worried about you! You're too much of a nuisance to ever leave me. I'm not worried about you at all."
He turned off the stove and started to lift the eggs out of the pan onto plates. "Of course you're not."
"So what are yours, Archer?" She had calmed quickly, as she always did. She ran too hot and too cold, too easily, and now her emotions were hidden behind her bright eyes once more. "Your soulmate words."
"I'm afraid I'm not going to tell you that," he said. "I gave you enough information last night, after all. It's a fair trade now."
"Stupid," she said as he approached with breakfast. "Not everything is fair."
"I know," he said. "Believe me, I know."
* * *
He taught her politics, the art of understanding what people truly meant when they spoke to beguile and how to turn their words against them. He had never been particularly good at it, but he understood how it worked. She picked it up better than he ever had.
He taught her history, the art of the world's ages and how to learn from it. He knew so much of it by heart, and it made him tired to repeat all those bitter and sad things, but she took it in.
"I have the power to make things better in the future, don't I?" she asked him.
"Perhaps," he said, somewhat doubtfully. He didn't think anyone had that power, but she looked so earnest and sincere right then he couldn't simply tell her no. And then again, maybe someone like her really did have such an ability.
"I don't know," she said. "I'm supposed to continue the power of the Tohsaka lineage. I'm supposed to maintain our rule over the masses. I can't really do that if I try to make the world right."
"It's your choice, Rin," he said.
"My father..." She trailed off, staring into the distance. "He entrusted me with our future. With everything he built."
"And if I told you your father was a fool?"
"I would step on your head," she explained calmly. "I wear small heels, but it would still hurt."
He smiled. "How would you reach?"
"I'd order you to bend over first," she said.
They returned to their lesson.
At last, after all of that had been exhausted, he offered to teach her how to fight, the art of defending herself. He did not tell her why she would need it, but he was increasingly convinced her father's enemies would come after her soon. He had not been able to track down the ones responsible for the elder Tohsakas' deaths, but he knew they were out there, watching and waiting, seeing Rin grow more powerful and more aware.
But here she surprised him. "Oh, I don't need it," she said. "I took self-defense lessons for many years, and I can do meaner things with my fists than with my words."
"Are you joking, Rin?" He didn't normally need to ask, but this time was unusual.
She shook her head. "Sometimes a boy has tried to hurt me because I rejected or ridiculed him. I always beat him until he cried. See?" Her smile was bright and sunny. "I told you tears mean that I win."
"You should practice," he said. "You may need to use those skills again in the future."
She regarded him seriously, her smile fading. "Things are getting dangerous, aren't they? With my family...and everything it means. You've been trying to hide it from me, because you're terrible and an idiot, but I know."
He bowed his head a little in acknowledgment. "Yes."
"Archer," she said, "how do you fight?"
"With blades," he said. "I used to fight with swords, but those are difficult to come by in this day and age, and more difficult still to carry openly in a city. Knives are fine, now."
"Do you really think so?" she asked. "I think you'd look really handsome wielding swords. Not that you need to be handsome."
"Of course not," he said.
She nodded. "You just need to be able to clean things for me, so it doesn't matter. It's funny, though," she added. "You're called Archer, but you use swords?"
"It's not really my name," he said. He had almost forgotten his real name by this point. "It started as a joke. Because I used swords."
"That makes no sense," Rin said.
"That's the point," he said. "We were fighting in wars. We knew nothing made sense. So they called me Archer."
She made a small noise of irritation. "How stupid," she said. "Just like you. Will you go make me tea now, Archer? I'd like some."
"Of course," he said. He was glad enough to end that conversation.
* * *
Three weeks later he found them on his bed: a pair of swords, one white and one black. He tested them in his hands and found them perfectly balanced. He was surprised by how plain they were, save for some simple designs on the blades. The hilts bore no gems.
He had, after all, told Rin that he didn't care for jewels.
Archer sat down heavily on the bed, his empty heart suddenly full of regret. "Why?" he murmured. He wasn't asking the obvious question: why had she made such an unnecessary gesture for him? He knew the answer to that. He had known it for some time now.
No, what he wondered of the room around him was only this: why had Rin Tohsaka fallen in love with someone like him?
He lifted his arm to look at the words written there, the last thing his soulmate would ever say to him.
You broke your promise.
They had haunted him for as long as he could remember. When he'd woken up after the fire that had killed his family, they had been the first thing he'd seen. He'd been furious, and he'd resolved for so long to be someone who never broke any promises. He'd tried to keep them all. He'd even promised his dying father to succeed where he had not and change the world.
In time, though, he'd realized the truth: he was a man who broke every promise he ever made. He was unreliable, untrustworthy, unlovable.
She loved him anyway.
He was afraid for her.
* * *
The assassins came at night, predictably. They had no art and no capacity for going against their role, unlike the young woman they came to kill.
Archer was watching the stars through the window at the time, thinking how inadequate their light was compared to Rin's eyes, and that was how he came to see their shadows crossing the balcony.
He had hung the swords up, thinking to use them as mere decoration to remind himself how useless the ideals of his they represented were, but now he took them down and pursued Rin's attackers.
One of them had made it into Rin's bedroom; he heard her fighting him, moving too fast and at too close a range for him to stand a chance. But there were many more he had to fend off, and they all had guns and knives.
He fought them all flashing blades. They were too surprised to take him down at first, and by the time they'd gathered their wits enough to pull out their guns, he'd assessed them too well. He sliced and stabbed before they could shoot.
Rin came to the window in her nightgown, her hair all disarrayed from her own battle, and stared bright-eyed at him as he fought. "Archer!"
He continued the battle. More men were approaching, though. One of them managed to get off a shot before he could stop it, and he felt the flash of pain as a bullet buried itself in his side. The distraction was enough for another to get a knife in his shoulder.
"Archer! Come in here!" There was too strong a command in her voice. He retreated to the door inside from the balcony, stepped through, and slammed it closed.
He and Rin began to pile furniture against the door, a barricade that would keep the assassins at bay for a little while. His wounds ached, but he tried to keep them from her. Let her think the blood all belonged to their enemies.
"I hate to do this," Rin finally said, "but we have to flee. They'll keep coming, otherwise. Just for now—"
"Just for now," he agreed.
"You'll come with me, Archer?"
"I am your servant," he said.
"That's right, you'll come with me because I said so," she said. "That's all."
He picked up his swords again. Blood loss had made him dizzy, but he continued to stand tall. He could not show her he was hurt. "They're in the back, so I suppose we have to go out the front," he said.
"It's too simple, but it can't be helped," she agreed. "Let's go."
They made their way across the marble floor of the hall. He dripped blood on the white tiles. She would notice. He hurried her along so she didn't. They reached the steps. He stumbled on them. Surely she would notice, but he kept moving so she didn't.
At the landing, they stopped.
The front door was wide open to the cool night. Archer could see a faint sliver of stars in the sky beyond it. In the hall stood the assassins they thought they'd left behind on the balcony, and more besides. All had knives and guns.
Rin quickly stepped behind a pillar, her face white with fear. "No," she said.
"Rin," he began.
"Don't," she said.
"Don't what?"
"Whatever you're about to do," she said. "Don't do it. You're injured. My Archer is hurt. I really didn't give permission for that to happen this time. I revoke anything that might have been interpreted as permission! I won't allow it!"
"You're babbling," he said. "There's no time. You need to go back up the stairs and use one of the side exits. I am certain you can make it safely to the ground below. Seek help. The authorities are not trustworthy, but you've learned how to use them to your advantage by now, haven't you?"
"I have," she said, "but—" She gestured behind her down the stairs. Her hand shook; he wanted it to be steady, but it shook. "I can't outrun all of them."
"No," he said. "Don't worry, Rin." He smiled openly at her. "I'll keep them busy."
"See, that's exactly what I told you not to do," Rin said, color rising to her pale cheeks. "I forbid it, Archer! I forbid you to die here!"
He felt light-headed. The blood loss was really getting to him. "Who said anything about dying? I'll take them all down and come join you."
"Stupid, stupid, idiot," she said. "I hate you, Archer! I really hate you!"
"What a shame, Rin," he said. He was still smiling. He couldn't think straight, so he kept talking. "I love you."
She went paler yet. "No! How dare you! You were never—you were never supposed to say that." The tears began, trickling unevenly down her face. Had he won? This didn't feel like a prize.
"You should smile instead," he said. "It suits you better. Still--I love you." He turned to go face what lay below, waiting only for the sound of her footsteps fleeing in the other direction.
For a long moment, she gave him nothing of the sort. Instead, she whispered, "My stupid Archer...you broke your promise." Only then did she begin to run back up the steps.
When she was gone, he started down the stairs. It was strange, though. He felt less like he'd broken a promise than he had in a very long time.