A/N: A flashfic written for a request on LiveJournal. The requester wanted some Shirou/Sakura. And my memory fails me in remembering certain facts, as it's been three years since I watched the anime and the quick google-fu wielded no credible results in regards to this, so I'm not sure if Shirou knew about Sakura being Rider's true master and the abuse she suffered at the hands of Matou. Hence, I tried to dodge around the subject as best as I could. Feel free to smack me for being an ignorant fool.

Warnings: mild sexual content.

Disclaimer: Fate/stay night belongs to studio TYPE-MOON and all associated parties. No profit is being made from this and no copyright infringement intended with this fan-made piece of fiction. Please support the authors and the artists by buying their official work.


After the war for the Holy Grail came to an end, Shirou and Sakura became close. Closer, at least, than they had previously been. She still helped him around the household, still didn't demand anything more than he was willing to give. But now he knew that she had been the true master of Rider; everything about her – almost. She hadn't told him about Shinji, though he might have guessed – or been told by Rin – who, most likely, knew the intricacies of the Matou clan's magic sources. One day, Sakura told herself, she would tell Shirou everything about it. Maybe. Not now. Someday. Maybe.

Right now all that mattered was Shirou's embrace. Face hidden in her hair, his strong arms held her pressed to his chest tightly, one his hand gently sliding over her back. Sakura sighed and ran a hand through Shirou's hair, whispering his name. She felt so comfortable like this, so safe that she didn't want it to end. She turned her head slightly and tilted it upwards to look at him, wanting to read the thoughts reflected in his eyes. She hid her smile after a moment of studying him. A hot shiver ran down her spine.

He wanted her. She had done it. She had made him notice her, not Rin. She had won.

With that thought Sakura reached up on her toes and kissed Shirou. Slowly, gently. Her hands moved up his chest, eventually winding around his neck, as he pulled her closer and responded to her kiss with equal courtesy. He didn't try to change it; he held back from exerting dominance and simply let it last for as long as possible. She'd suffered enough in the war, he thought, to be subjected to more aggression. Right then, as they stood there in the doorway to his kitchen, he wouldn't be the one to break that determination. And even though Sakura was serious, intent, and willing to dictate the tone, when she felt Shirou wanting to pull back, she allowed it to happen. His hands, though sliding down her sides, staying in contact with her body was something she appreciated.

"Isn't this too soon?" Shirou asked softly, not wanting to ruin their building relationship. He cared for Sakura; maybe he cared too much to take more active steps. He'd enjoyed being just friends and this new turn of events – most definitely pleasant – still held many uncertainties.

"Is it?" Sakura responded with a question of her own, leaned her head back and offered him a smile which made him hold his breath for a moment.

Shirou didn't respond. Couldn't. He acted on the thought that flashed through his mind because of that smile, because of the way she looked at him just then. He leaned in and kissed her, his hands staying put on her sides. Harder and with more fervour than before, but with enough room for her to pull away.

She didn't.