World Tree MUSH

    In a way, it's probably a bit nostalgic for the last heir of the Emiya family. A great big, old-fashioned Japanese style estate, complete with the wall surrounding the grounds. It's much bigger than the old Emiya residence in Fuyuki, though; the home of the Shuzenji clan is pretty much a small village unto itself. People hustle and bustle here and there, guards patrol, and above it all the phoenix-emblem flags of the Shuzenji fly in the warm spring wind. A few clouds hang in the sky, but for the most part, it's pretty good weather.

    When Shirou arrives, the guards will ask him to wait just a moment. One of them heads inside, and shortly thereafter returns with a girl in the clothing of Matsu's attendants. Somewhere in her twenties, the brown-haired girl greets Shirou with a welcoming smile, and a soft, "Right this way, Lord Emiya. Lady Shuzenji is expecting you. It was mentioned that you might be a bit unsteady on your feet, so if you have need of a cane or the like, I would be glad to provide it for you."

    While Emiya Shirou is definitely used to the sight of old-fashioned japanese architecture, what with the house his adoptive father passed him being the way it is, but... perhaps not quite in this scale. The realization that *all of this* is owned by a single estate, though, and a very high ranking member of the very same is the one he has come to see here does fill the poor magus with some apprehension, however. Like he is definitely, extremely out of his element and like he should not even be here!

    Nevermind that he was literally partnered up with a former King of England in his world. Not that *he* knew that.

    After the wait, he offers a respective bow to the attendant, too, before murmuring with a somewhat sheepish smile, "Ah, just 'Emiya' is fine, honestly. It's not like I am nobility or anything..." At least he's honest about effectively being a peasant in comparison. "And it's really not that bad! I should be fine..." Well, he's at least right in that he doesn't actually need a *cane*. Though anyone who pays close enough attention might be able to tell that his gait is... off. Like his right foot doesn't quite lift properly every now and then, and ends up in a momentary shuffle instead. He's doing his best of not letting it show, but a solid one half of his body is still *numb*.

    "Not at all, sir," the attendant replies, bowing her head slightly. "You are an honored guest of Lady Shuzenji. It is only right that you be accorded the proper respect." There is a faint tone in her voice of explanation; she seems to realize that he's out of his depth. "If you're certain that you will be alright. Please, follow me."

    She's careful to stay at his right side as she leads. Just in case.

    The attendant leads Shirou past a large building of some sort near the front gate, across the grounds, towards a smaller complex a little further back. There, a sitting room has been opened, letting fresh air and sunlight spill in across a kotatsu that is just having a spread of tea and snacks laid out on it. Already seated at the table is Matsu herself, hands around a cup of tea, which she sips at idly.

    On noticing Shirou's approach with her attendant, the young miko inclines her head faintly in greeting, and then watches patiently while the two approach. Only once they've arrived does the attendant bow her head and take a step back. "If you need anything else, Lord Emiya, please ask one of the other attendants at hand. We will be glad to offer whatever we may." Matsu, meanwhile, more casually waves the young man in, gesturing at the cushion opposite her from the kotatsu. "Good afternoon. You get here alright? No trouble on the way?" She certainly doesn't have the stiff formality her attendants to.

    Thankfully for everyone involved, Shirou does actually make it all the way to his destination without any trouble. And yet he still gets the chance to show just how out of his league he feels when the attendant gives her passing offer, which he just waves off with "I-i'm fine, really, thank you..."

    Back to the matter at hand.

    While Matsu might not show the same formality, something in Shirou still ends up compelling him to give a depressive bow to the miko with a "Afternoon, Shuzenji-san," before lowering himself down to sitting seiza opposite from her upon the kotatsu. Even if folding his legs like that with his current state is... not comfortable, even with the cushioning. "No trouble. Your living arrangements are... um. A bit *more* than I was expecting."

    "They're ridiculous," Matsu replies bluntly. "The Shuzenji estate is almost as big as the entire village I grew up in. My personal quarters are bigger than the entire shrine dormitory I was living in two years ago. It still feels weird." She picks up her tea, then adds, "But on paper, the Phoenix Maiden is the head of the Shuzenji Clan. The clan elders have the real power, but custom of both the clan and the imperial court dictates that I live here. So, I do."

    She takes a sip of her tea, watching Shirou over it as she does. After a contemplative moment, she adds, "So, is there actual pain, or just the right side of your body refusing to cooperate?" Perceptive.

    "So...They are basically treating you as a figurehead?" Wow. Blunt.

    Shirou shuffles a bit uncomfortably immediately after Matsu's question to him is presented. "You noticed?" He asks, with the tone of someone who was definitely not intent on bringing it up himself. He is definitely the kind of kid who would put off seeing a doctor until someone physically dragged him there. "No pain, just... you know that feeling when you sit on your leg wrong, and you disturb the circulation of blood to lose feeling in it? It's... kind of like that. It just feels like static, it doesn't hurt or anything."

    "Yes, and no." There's a hint of a bitter smile on Matsu's face. "Things have changed a little in the past few months. They still have the power, but they can't ignore me anymore."

    She sets down her tea, then replies with a dry, "You're not very good at hiding it." She laces her fingers together and listens to Shirou's explanation, looking thoughtful. When he finishes explaining, she muses. "So, a... nerve problem, I think it's called. Hm." Settling back a bit, the younger girl contemplates. "I might be able to treat it. No promises. It depends on how you hurt yourself. I can heal any mundane injury. Strained muscles, lost limbs, even damage from poison or disease. But I can't heal... 'conditions'. I can't heal cancer or birth defects. Things like that. So if this is something inherited from your family line, it might not work."

    Shirou's head tilts to the side subtly. It's a look of curiousity-- someone who momentarily wants to know more about the situation behind Matsu's arrangements, but ultimately ends up deciding to simply say "I see", instead of delving into politics.

    It's Shirou's turn to listen to Matsu's explanation, then-- and he visibly winces on the way she describes the limitation of her power. "I am afraid I don't know enough about my biological parents to tell if there is anything I could inherit. But I think... this started after I used magic, the other day, in a way I had not before. I'm not... sure how to explain it in a way that makes sense. I think the magic in my world might inherently work differently from how it does here."

    "It probably does," Matsu replies, nodding. "I've found my trained senses work well enough in most places, but the fundamental rules seem to be different almost everywhere. That's not really important, though." She reaches over and takes a snack - a dango skewer, as it happens - and munches on it contemplatively. Her casual demeanor really does stand out from all the attendants; all of them were very obviously raised for noble society... and Matsu very obviously was not.

    "Mmf. If it's an injury caused by straining yourself, I can fix it... but the magic probably makes it a little complicated. I've healed injuries caused by attack magic, but never one that was self-inflicted. We'll just have to try it and find out. What exactly did you do, though? I've only seen that strengthening magic you use on your shinai."

    "Ah." For a split second, Shirou's expression changes to something much more deadpan, in his stare at Matsu's muching of Dango. Yes, for just a moment there, the thought of "She looks out of place here too!" prevailed in Shirou's mind. Fortunately, he doesn't go and just blurt that out loud.

    "I... always feel some pain when I use magic, but it has never been like that," he explains now, holding up one hand and peering down to it with a subtle flexing of the fingers upon it. "In theory, the basis for Reinforcement was the same as this magic. Projection, my father - ah, my adoptive father that is - called it. Creation of... 'something' from pure magical energy. He called it a completely useless magic, though, since you can't really make anything useful from it and the objects just fade away. I usually can't even make anything that's not hollow inside, but I kind of kept doing it as a warmup and a relaxation method in my training routine anyway." He explains away at all, this as if he might need to justify himself. In his world, he probably would have to, if projection really is considered such an useless practice.

    "...The other day, though," he adds then, with a faintly uncertain note in his voice, as that held-up hand closes it's fingers into a loose fist. "I copied the swords of someone I knew in my world, to fight with. It was an incredibly hasty projection and probably inaccurate, but it worked well enough to fight with. ... To fight like that guy, even. That's when this started."

    Matsu sets down the now-empty dango skewer, and she listens. For all her grump, she's capable of being quiet and hearing someone out. And she's demonstrated enough knowledge of magic that it's probably not surprising she can actually follow along. A few different emotions flicker across her face, but most of what's there is contemplation.

    She doesn't mince words when he finishes, though. "So you took a magic that already hurts to do, and did it even harder," she observes in a deadpan. "And now the right side of your body's malfunctioning. You're lucky you didn't cripple yourself for life." There is a soft, grumpy huff, and then she reaches over to grab her tea; then, she downs it in one big gulp, something that causes a soft, scandalized titter from the attendant by the door.

    Matsu eyes the attendant, and the woman hastily falls silent.

    Turning her gaze back to Shirou, the Phoenix Maiden continues. "I can give it a try. If it doesn't work, it doesn't work, and I'm sorry you wasted the trip out here. I can send you with a small gift for the inconvenience. But if it works, there is a matter of..." Here, she frowns. "Not 'payment', but rather 'repayment'. It is beneath a noble of Arashi-no-moto to accept something so base as 'payment for services rendered'. But in return for a good-faith show of 'friendship', a similar show of 'friendship' in the form of a donation to the Imperial Court would be acceptable."

    There's a deep sound of distaste in her voice. She's not saying these words by choice; she knows the whole damn thing is just payment with extra semantics.

    "Alternatively, I would be able to accept a favor owed between 'friends'."

    Shirou winces. She sure managed to hit the nail right on the head, didn't she? "L-look, it was the best thing I could come up with at the time, and it was a matter of life and death." He protests thus, seeming to think he made the right choice in spite of the obvious issues.

    When it comes to the matter of 'payment'... or, well, the way Matsu puts it (or rather, has to put it), Shirou's face goes kind of blank again, save for a couple slow, bemused blinks of his eyes. "I... I see." He can definitely notice the undertone lining Matsu's voice when she explains all that. "Your social conventions sure seem complicated..."

    With a breath let out, he relaxes his posture a bit after the fact. "I have money I've earned from the jobs I've done since I ended up in the World Tree. I can donate that or owe that favor, by your preference." Since he does seem to suspect that Matsu might also actually have a preference on how to go about this.

    'It was a matter of life and death.' These words put a more distant look on Matsu's face. After a moment, she replies in a soft, "...yeah, I guess. Do what you gotta do to survive." She seems content to let it slide there. Instead, she shifts her focus to the matter of payment; and the choice is now on her head. "I can tell you that what the clan or the court would prefer is different from what I'd prefer. They can put money towards whatever they might need. A favor can be more difficult to call in, and it's limited by the one who owes the favor."

    The girl taps the side of her index finger against her chin, looking at Shirou contemplatively. "...But being able to call on another mage is useful. Especially an outsider, with an outsider's perspective. The onmyouji here can be stuck in their ways. I'll take the favor. I won't ask you to kill anyone or throw yourself on a sword or anything, but it might end up involving danger or political intrigue. That's the kind of world this is."

    Shirou listens with a rather serious expression, all things considered. He probably gathered well enough that 'coin' would be a much more preferable thing for the court behind Matsu over 'favor'. But then...

    "I'm not really here for the court's help, am I?"

    'I won't ask you to kill anyone', she says, and he nods. Jury might be still out on just how easily he would throw himself on a sword, though. And when it comes to the possibility of danger? "That's fine. If you think I can help somehow, then it's the least I can do in return. ...Though you should know that technically I am considered a failure of a mage by my world's standards, so I'm not sure how much you can rely on that aspect of me."

    Once again, Matsu listens, though this time she also makes a gesture for the nearby attendant to pour some more tea. After her cup is full, she sips at it, and regards Shirou curiously. "That won't be an issue. I've seen you stand up to undead without hesitating. Around here, being able to move when you're staring death in the face is probably the most important trait you can have." She sets down her cup then adds, "But I'm curious how you mean that you're a 'failure'. What are your world's standards?"

    "It was just what was important to do at the time, since they could have harmed the townspeople later," Shirou says of the incident recalled by Matsu, as if though it was a completely unremarkable thing. Well, maybe Shirou didn't find the notion of undead themselves unremarkable -- but the way he reacted to them, himself, rather.

    But when she asks about why exactly he's considered a failure? Well. He pauses for a few seconds, while akwardly scratching one finger along his left cheek.

    "...Well. Ordinarily, becoming a magus is an inherited thing in my world, right? Apparently people sometimes even specifically breed in a way to ensure their children will have even more and stronger Magic Circuits than them-- a Magic Circuit being like... the way it was explained to me, they're like filters that run alongside your nervous system for mana. And more over, each family passes down something called a Magic Crest down to their heirs, which is like an accumulated generational knowledge and ability with magic. But I had no blood relation to my father, so I couldn't inherit that, and to begin with, he didn't even want to teach me, so..."

    He shrugs, now, and just... smiles. It's an empty smile with nothing real behind it, though. It's a fake, a forced thing, made in an effort to wave off what he's been saying and about to say further. "In the end, I only really know Reinforcement, Projection and Structural Grasp. I probably wouldn't be admitted to any kind of academy run by the Mage's Association. For that matter, I was never really taught the proper basics of matter and I don't even have any proper Magic Circuits in me, so I basically just kind of wing it whenever I cast any magic." There, he does actually physically wave his hand, and he even lets out a faint laugh. As if though it was just relating some amusing story.

    As if there were absolutely nothing wrong with the way he's living his life.

    Even for such a long explanation, Matsu is good enough to sit and listen in silence. She's a patient girl, not even fidgeting aside from the slow progress through her second cup of tea. When he finally finishes, she sets down her cup, once again putting thought into her reply before she speaks. "I won'd pretend to understand the depth of your situation, but it sounds to me a lot like nobles being nobles, no matter what the world. If you can 'wing it' and still produce results, that doesn't sound like failure to me." She doesn't comment on the strangeness of his way of life, but there is something of a brief, appraising stare.

    But then it's her turn to wave her hand dismissively. "Either way, it's not important. I think I can still use the favor from you, even if it's just dealing with some youkai attack down the line or something." She takes one last sip of her tea, then sets it down once again, and says, "Lie back. Make sure I can access your right side. Let's see if I can fix you." Already, she's standing up.

    "Mmm, who knows? I'm probably just faking it, basically."

    That's more or less the rest Shirou has to say about it.

    "Eh?" Shirou's head tips up to look after Matsu when she stands up, blinking with some confusion. "Just like that, right here?" He's not sure how he was expecting any kind of healing ritual to work out, but maybe he was thinking they'd at least... do something away from a tea table?

    Well, Shirou himself isn't the type to question orders too much, so ultimately, he shuffles back away from the kotatsu some before leaning back... but then he thinks better of going about it just directly like that, and brings himself turning over so that he will end up lied down on his left side. "...I don't know why, but I feel kind of silly doing things like this. Is there anything else yo uneed me to do?"

    "Not really," Matsu replies, stepping around the kotatsu as she talks. "With healing magic, I'm not weaving a spell or invoking a god's power. Suzaku of the South, the Vermillion Bird of flames, healing and purification, dwells within me. I can wield Her magic directly. That's what makes me such an important political piece in a country where healers are almost nonexistent."

    She steps around beside Shirou and kneels down in front of him, seating herself seiza-style. The girl then lifts up her hands, holding them out almost in the posture of an old faith healer, right over his body... but even as they're moving into position, tongues of flame are already dancing along them. Shirou can probably feel the movement of mana, and alongside that he can just plain sense the warmth of those flames. It's not the harsh, painful warmth of being too near a campfire, or even stepping out into the desert sun.

    It's a gentle warmth. The warmth of a well-heated room in the deepest part of winter. The warmth of a hot shower after a long, tiring day. A gentle, relaxing warmth.

    The flames that flow out of her hands and across Shirou's body feel like that, but even moreso. They wash over his right side, and there's probably a distinct sensation of relieving tension, relaxing tightness. After a few seconds, she murmurs, "There's... something else here. It's not a problem. But you have something within you that's emanating healing magic as well." She doesn't slow down in her work, however. Just continues pouring out healing magic for a little bit longer, before it finally ceases and she draws back her hands. "How is it? Can you feel your right side?"

    "... Suzaku of the South, huh," Shirou murmurs upon hearing that, almost off-handedly mentioning that. "There's stories of him where I come from. I guess some aspects of the different worlds end up intersecting afterall..."

    Beyond that, the red-haired boy stays quiet. The first sting of heat might alarm him at first, but otherwise he remains calm there, on his side, while Matsu works her magic.

    "---hhhh."

    At least until there's something else. He arches his back there for a few seconds, and his eyes squeeze shut. To him, it feels as though a needle has suddenly been driven into his numb side, amidst the otherwise-calming heat of her healing flames. Just a few seconds, before a breath he suddenly realizes he was holding back is let out of his mouth, and it's gone again.

    It was a distracting enough sensation that he nearly missed her mentioning some other source of healing magic. He doesn't respond to it either way, in favor of simply waiting for her to finish her work.

    At her final question, he rolls himself over, and with a somewhat frustrated grunt, manages to bring himself sitting unelegantly upon his butt on the floor. "...I'm not sure," he admits, reaching for his right side with his left hand as it does. "I felt something there. I kind of feel like some feeling is coming back there, but... I dunno. I feel different, somehow. Like I've just woken up after doing a muscle workout with an unfamiliar motion the day before."

    Giving one forceful pat of his hand against his right ribs, he looks back up to Matsu again, with slightly widened eyes. "...What was that about something else there? Someone else told me I apparently healed on my own once before, but I couldn't figure out any reason why I would."

    The sudden tension amidst her healing is... concerning. Matsu very nearly stops at that. But it passes, and he relaxes; she'll just chalk it up to nerves starting up again. She scoots back a bit and stands up, moving back around to seat herself at the table again. "It's usually a bit more... complete, than that. I don't know if it's interference from whatever that is inside you, or if it's just because the strain was caused by your own magic. But that's still an improvement." She picks up another snack, then adds, "I'd imagine it will start healing properly now, at least. If it doesn't, let me know."

    After a bite of her food, she sets it down, and shakes her head faintly in reply. "I don't know precisely what it is. Only that I felt something else in you. A source of healing, that wasn't me. I don't think it was you, either, but my sense for a person's spiritual internals isn't that refined. But it would explain why you healed on your own, I think. Will you be all right to get back to the nearest vine?"

    "... Like exercise stiffness, you think?" Shirou suggests in response to this, and goes ahead and stretches his right arm out to turn it in a slow circle. It still doesn't feel quite right, and it might show in the stiffness of the motion, too. "Mmmh. It's something, at least.

    Delayed in it he might have been, but he does push himself up to standing too, with another experimentary wiggle made to his right leg once he's at least braced by his left one. "Something that's not actually me? I can't really say I get it at all. Do you think I should worry about it?" And at the last question, he turns to face her properly, and gives a deep nod of his head. "I think I should be, anyway. ...You seemed worried about that before, too. Are bandit attacks or something common on the road back there?"

    "Not on that road in particular," Matsu replies, shaking her head. "But they are common in Arashi-no-moto. Bandits, youkai, occasionally other creatures or hazards. I was more concerned about you hurting yourself, though. Our roads and walking paths aren't the smoothed-stone affairs a lot of other worlds have. I can have a couple of guards walk you back to the vine if you're worried, though. Having a guest hurt while visiting would be a stain on the Shuzenji clan's honor."

    "It's fine," Shirou insists, giving a shake of his own head now. "I couldn't bother your clan any further than I already have. I'm sure you have better use for the manpower than sending an escort for me." Having said that, he dips into a bow, just as respectful as the one he provided when he first wasb rought to this room. "Thank you for your help. I won't forget the debt, either. Call on me whenever you wish, and I will do whatever I can."