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As soon as Kirei entered the coffee shop, he was overwhelmed by boredom. From the cheerful chime of the door opening to the banal chatter filling the air it stirred nothing but disinterest.
He scanned the room, his eyes almost instantly landing on the man he was supposed to meet. Looking lazily out of a window, sipping on a fourth cup of coffee, was Kiritsugu. He had chosen to sit in a dark corner, only dimly lit by the window. Kirei walked over to the table.
“And to what do I owe this meeting?” Kirei said, sitting down.
“I don’t know,” Kiritsugu sighed, swishing around the coffee remaining in his cup, “I don’t even like coffee.”
After placing his cup down with a clunk, Kiritsugu placed a menu in front of Kirei, hands shaking as he set it down. Kirei laughed dismissively, standing the menu back up on the table. The two sat in silence as Kiritsugu finished his coffee. Perhaps it was the dullness in his eyes that made Kiritsugu look like he had aged impossibly fast, or the way his face appeared to be sunken in around the bones. Kirei looked at him, noticing how frail his hands had become. He wondered if he could even hold a gun the way he seemed to struggle holding the cup of coffee.
“I’m going to die soon,” Kiritsugu had resumed looking out of the window.
Kirei chuckled, “How can you be so sure?”
“Oh, you know,” Kiritsugu held his hand out, letting Kirei see him shake and struggle to keep it level.
Kirei smiled, “Well, if my most beloathed enemy is so openly weak in front of me, may I take it as an invitation?”
Kiritsugu laughed like he had been told a poor excuse of a joke, causing him to hold his hand to his chest and wheeze out a couple of unsettling coughs.
“You could try,” Kiritsugu continued laughing, before seeing Kirei’s intrigued expression and clarifying, “No, I’m joking. Unlike you I still have things to live for.”
“Oh? It seems we really will never get along.”
Kiritsugu smiled, “Yes, that’s good. I’m not sure I could handle such a change.”
“I feel as if I should be offended.”
“Maybe,” Kiritsugu shrugged, “You know, I hated you the moment I heard about you. I’ve never been able to understand you.”
“Likewise,” Kirei nodded, “But what’s with the sudden honesty?”
“What's the point in secrets between dead men?”
Kirei laughed, smiling broadly at Kiritsugu’s acceptance of his death. He raised a hand to his own chest, looking for the reassurance of his missing heartbeat. It was nice. Despite not being alive, he felt confident in the fact he had managed to outlive Kiritsugu. Like it was some morbid competition only he was aware of. Spurred on by his joy, Kirei continued to talk.
“If it’s my last chance, I have a couple questions I’d like to ask.”
Kiritsugu laughed weakly, “I’d be honoured, go on.”
“What did you really seek from the grail?”
“Oh…” Kiritsugu covered his face, “No, I really wanted world peace. I truly believed it could be granted.”
“Really?” Kirei couldn’t help but laugh, “Interesting. And you believed the grail that required the sacrifice of your wife would do good?”
“Yes.”
“I see.”
“And what did you want?”
Kiritsugu’s question took Kirei off guard.
“I wanted to know what I wanted,” Kirei smiled, “I’m glad my wish was granted.”
“I see,” Kiritsugu nodded, as if confirming his own suspicions, “I think I might hate you even more now.”
“That’s alright,” Kirei made eye contact with Kiritsugu, “Do you have any other questions?”
“Why did you accept my invitation today?”
Kirei hummed, taking the time to think for a moment. In truth, he was surprised that Kiritsugu was still alive. When the letter arrived on the doorstep of the church he assumed it had to be some sick joke. He wondered what Kiritsugu looked like, whether he was the same man he had hated so much, and a plain curiosity in what he had been up to. There was also a desire to see him. To talk to him. To share a conversation with the one other man who knew exactly what happened that day. For a reason he couldn’t place, that felt too vulnerable to admit.
“Why did you invite me?” Kirei settled on.
Kiritsugu nodded as if that was the answer he was expecting, “I felt like I had to tie up loose ends. I didn’t think you’d accept - what if this was a trap, and I was waiting to kill you?”
“That wouldn’t have been unwelcome,” Kirei answered honestly.
“Haha, really?” Kiritsugu smiled, “I’m glad you’re still somewhat the same.”
“Only somewhat?” Kirei prompted, “I can’t imagine what's changed.”
“You’re more open, you smile honestly now,” Kiritsugu looked at him, “And you’re growing your hair out. It suits you.”
“Ah…” Kirei held a hand to the back of his neck, realising Kiritsugu was right, “I see.”
Kiritsugu sighed, looking out the window. He folded his arms on his lap, leaning against his chair a little bit more. It was as if he was satisfied, the way his expression relaxed and he seemed to breathe a bit easier.
“If that’s it, I’ll be on my way,” Kirei began to stand up, “Is there anything else I can help you with?”
Kiritsugu shook his head, “No. Thank you.”
“Thank you, too.”
Kirei turned, about to leave. “Take care,” he mumbled.
“Hm?”
“Goodbye.”
Kiritsugu laughed. It was nice. As he left, Kirei wondered if anyone would have been able to guess the hatred the two had for each other just by looking. It was a pleasant conversation. Kirei wondered why he didn’t prod more, take the chance to ask about what led Kiritsugu to become the man he is and unearth some old memories. Perhaps he wanted to leave it as a pleasant conversation, or perhaps he had gained some sympathy. It didn’t matter, he’d never see Kiritsugu again.
And Kirei knew he should be okay with that.