2008 in Review: The Only Moment They Were Alone
2008 didn’t feel all that ‘anime’ for me. Honest. I think that the prolonged absence from my blog and the internet in general might have something to do with it, but I could be wrong. It was a Rip Van Winkle moment when I realised that, Code Geass aside, my peers were writing about funny-sounding shows like Natsume Yuujinchou and Nogizaka Haruka no Himitsu, and were ranting about Macross F’s non-ending ending when they weren’t creaming their underwear for the 9713th time over the Sakamoto-Kanno reunion or how great the soundtracks were.
Could this be why I turned to something more timeless to consume? It helps that I’ve been mildly interested in what the fuss was all about ever since I heard about dragons in lieu of the less broadcast-friendly alternative and all manner of jokes like “People die if they are killed.” “King of heroes, do you have enough swords?“, and so on. What all the memes, discussion, and barely-existent (VN) blog posts fail to let on, though, is that Fate/stay night works very well as a ren’ai/bishoujo game, at least where the small bits of romance are concerned.
It’s amazing that a densely-packed work with so many layers to it still makes time for extremely memorable and romantic scenes that also make sense in view of the meta-narrative and don’t feel forced or tacked on, but hey! At least this is something jp would be hard-pressed to make fun of.
The romance scenes in F/sn are unique in that they represent the three stages of Shirou’s growth where he goes from wanting to live out his ideals to reconsidering his ideals to throwing them away; the role that he plays to each girl is distinctly different in each route, and in each of the confession scenes where it’s just the two of them in an event CG, there’s a symmetry that arises from the way each couple is portrayed together.

First of all, Saber’s scene is unique in the sense that both the confession itself and her accepting of his feelings are kept separate from each other–I felt that this distinction between head and heart was a good one as Saber happens to be the only heroine whose True End has her being alone. It’s also a fitting parallel, as both this scene and the one of her final moments end with her standing alone (albeit the latter with a happier expression on her face).
“——-I cannot accept your words. I made a contract to obey you, but I did not give you my heart, Master.”
She replies with a strong voice.
It’s a very poignant moment in Fate as it shows exactly how determined she is to obtain her goal, even at the cost of her desire to be with him. It’s obvious to both the reader and Shirou at this point that her feelings are mutual, but she deliberately demarcates what separates them by calling Shirou “Master”, and uses the guise of the Servant-Master relationship to disengage herself from his confession, only to regret it a moment later.
“——I thought you would understand, Shirou.”(…)
“Do not fight? What are you saying when you need me to protect you? Please, give me that nonsense after you are able to fight on your own.
——Humph. I do not think that will ever occur.”
She sees herself in him, and he the same in her, but they forget the facts in the heat of the moment–Saber in how Shirou’s already proven his worth in the previous fight against Berserker by summoning Saber’s sword, and Shirou in how Saber deliberately chose to become a Servant before her death in order to win the Holy Grail War.
This contrasts with the second scene that follows shortly after, which is all the more dramatic. With Saber the verge of death and Shirou suffering from a previous injury by Gilgamesh, he projects Caliburn like he did with Berserker, only to be met with Gilgamesh’s wielding of Gram. What Shirou does after that is important, for it’s reminiscent of what happens during Saber’s first battle. He takes the blow for her again, but instead of using his stomach, he looks within himself and finds Avalon.

“I finally understand. You were my sheath, Shirou…”
…She says so in a deep, seeping voice.
There’s a plausible reason as to why Saber rejects Shirou’s feelings in the previous scene–instead of being her sheath, he becomes her sword, which is pretty much redundant as far as her role goes, as she’s sworn to be his sword before this. Once Shirou learns to accept that there are roles he can and can’t play, Saber rises to embrace him in a symbolic gesture of acceptance, bringing the motifs of sword and sheath full circle.
The feeling is so comfortable that my remaining consciousness fades away.
I’m glad to be saved and I let my body sleep.
…But before that.
I complain to myself that it would have been more perfect if our positions were reversed——”
On hindsight, it’s rather ironic how this last line of Shirou’s comes true later on, albeit not in this route or with Saber.
Then there’s Rin’s scene, which begins and ends in the cemetery, amusingly enough–having left Shirou behind on the rooftop on the previous day, she’s now betrayed by Archer in a tense confrontation with Caster and Kuzuki, and Shirou appears in the nick of time to save her, having witnessed the whole thing.
“——! You should’ve gone right home then, you idiot! Not only that, but you came in with that wound of yours and used projection again! It’s natural for your wound to get worse! And you’re saying it’s not painful!? Geez, what’s wrong with you!? Why would you push yourself so hard!!!!?
Tohsaka roars out without stop.
…But well…
It really isn’t that painful, and——
Then Shirou drops the bombshell:
“——It’s more painful for you, right?”
“——————”
“So let’s go home. You can complain once you get home.”

This exchange is significant in how it tears down the previously-established hierarchy that Rin has placed herself with regards to Shirou, for it now establishes them as equals. I’m not sure whether you could call it sensitivity or coincidence on Shirou’s part that he chooses not to bring up Rin’s loss until she brings up his injuries, but the result would be the same nonetheless; now in the same boat, they’re no different from each other.
“What——?”
“——!”
She wipes her face like she made a mistake and turns away.
There’s a lot that can be read from the subtext here, but one particularly telling example of why Rin has so much reason to cry is that Shirou, unlike herself, doesn’t think any lesser of her for losing her Servant. It’s obvious that being saved by the very person whom you previously wrote off as being useless and brushed aside callously came as a blow to her, and to top all that, there’s Archer’s betrayal still fresh in her mind. Who wouldn’t?
“…I can’t believe it. A guy made me cry.”
She murmurs while looking down.
After another brief exchange, Shirou’s confession that follows is neither out of place nor forced; in fact, it goes a long way towards showing his innate sensitivity and understanding of Rin’s character. His confession here is two-fold; not only does it break the silent impasse, it also makes him indebted to Rin, as it were–for isn’t it said that the one who confesses first ‘loses’?
Last but not least, Sakura’s scene was brilliantly done in the way that it’s innocently foreshadowed as early as when Rin asks Shirou on the rooftop:
“I’ll help you as much as I can if it’s something I can do and you can’t do.
But… can you do the same even in the opposite case?
For this is what Shirou does later on, what both Rin and Shinji both cannot do; he protects Sakura just like “an older brother should protect his younger sister.” It’s interesting to note here that Sakura’s blood and non-blood related siblings both abandon her in her time of need–Shirou and Sakura are not united in such a manner as a result of a need for drama, or tragedy, but by necessity. As a result, what happens feels perfectly natural
It’s also foreshadowed later on as Shirou and Rin are about to set out to save Sakura, where he makes a comment about the weather:
The sky is dark, and the sun’s about to set.
I bet it’ll rain tonight.
I have to come home with Sakura before that.

What makes this scene so heartbreaking and genuine is not that it’s sad because it’s sad (c.f. crying visual novels that serve no other purpose than to make you cry by virtue of the plot), but that it’s sad as a result of the human failings of the characters, and therefore more realistic as a result. Both Shirou and Sakura play a game of subterfuge that serves no other purpose than to maintain the status quo, dragging things out for as long as possible.
“——No. It’s not that I didn’t notice. I…”
I just didn’t try to notice.”
And in the midst of all that, the rain that Shirou mentioned earlier keeps on falling. I mentioned earlier that a line that Shirou says in Fate comes true in another route, and it’s this one. While Saber and Shirou have to admit their failings, with Saber needing Shirou for Avalon and Shirou needing Saber to defend him instead of projecting swords on his own before they get past their impasse, Sakura and Shirou admit something much simpler–their feelings.
“But——But I still wanted to hide it from you…!
I wanted to protect my time with you…!
That was the only meaningful thing for me, so why…!”
It’s funny how symmetrical each of the above scenes that I’ve just outline above are, actually. In the first you have Shirou being embraced by Saber, Shirou and Rin sitting back-to-back, and Sakura being embraced by Shirou. What’s the significance here, you ask? Simple: The way in which each scene is framed is symbolic of the stronger person in the relationship.
In Fate, for instance, Shirou is the one being supported by Saber because of how he’s the weaker one; compare this to UBW, where Shirou and Rin are equals, and HF, where Sakura’s the one being taken care of. It should be noted that Sakura in HF is by no means weaker than Shirou in terms of power–she’s as strong as Saber in Fate, yet his inferior in terms of emotional strength, which is where he finally gets to play the role he longed for in Fate.
Finally, there’s one last thing in common with all three scenes that deserve mention–they all take place at night. Yet despite this similarity in chronology, it’s interesting how each scene decreases in light as they progress, with Saber’s being the brightest, Rin’s being like any other place would at nighttime, and Sakura’s being the darkest, with only two sources of light in the distance. As to what this symbolises, well… your guess is as good as mine. Personally, I prefer the idea that each scene corresponds with how dark (or lack thereof) the route is in general.


Terrific analysis. The comment about the symmetry is absolutely brilliant–how’d you notice that? I guess all those school years teaching you to overanalyze everything really pay off.
Bravo.
Thanks. School years, you say? Not at all, considering how terrible the Malaysian education system is achieving anything remotely resembling that. I just had the fortune of playing all three routes back to back, so the resemblance was rather obvious, I guess. That and how I’ve sort-of trained myself to notice things like these.
Well, a prolonged absence from the interest in general would inevitably cause you to go down a different alley of interests.
And yes, F/SN is a great visual novel. Granted, the main character is a tad annoying with somewhat apparent indecisiveness, but it’s just that which makes him such an interesting central character, aside from the different roles he plays to the three different heroines of the story be it in Fate, UBW or HF.