Say there was a little cafe.

Say that cafe had a completely unpronounceable name that defied all the laws of grammar, linguistics, decency, morality, and quite possibly the Geneva Conventions.

Say that cafe was manned by a handful of deformed cat-things, a certain blue-haired Irishman with the worst luck in the world and a certain pink-haired Irishwoman with all the luck that comes with being a minor character resurrected in an oddball sequel.

As it turns out, of course, that cafe exists. Its name is Ahnenerbe. Remember that now. I know you can't, but it's worth a try before you end up having to Google it every time you want to Google it. Sucker.

Anyway. Where was I? Ah, yes. Ahem. And in Ahnenerbe, a certain Festival is about to start...

I would say more, but I'm just the voice who's here for the opening sequence so the author can try to be funny. You won't be hearing me again. Which is sad, given that it's me and I'm awesome, but at any rate, what I meant to say was, I mean, you know I really deserve more screentime and what do you mean IT'S STARTI

All-Around TYPE-MOON: FANFICTION FESTIVAL!

Chapter One: How Not to Start a Story

Kimi to issho ga ichiban suki yotte motto gyutto ne-

"Nya!"

An annoyed paw smashed down, stopping the music with more vehemence than was actually necessary. Warbling, Super Affection bounced off the counter, hit the ground, and lay defeated in a smoking heap.

No, that was the radio. But it was close enough.

"Thank Neco-God. It was bad enough the last time they did it, nya. Jumping up and down like that... where did they expect me to keep my dignyaty? You deserved that, nya."

With that sage conclusion, the short cat-thing stepped away from the grisly electronic remains, dusting its paws off with a dishcloth and looking very pleased with itself. Neco-Arc's golden hair and cat apron waved slightly as it nodded, and its obviously exaggerated chibi eyes and obviously exaggerated chibi mouth beamed in the supposed 'cat smile' – which was actually just a sideways '3'. But that was the point of chibi mascot characters.

Ahnenerbe was as quiet and tongue-tying as ever. It was a cosy cafe, if you could look past the fact that it was run by a bunch of cats who all looked like caricatures of more popular characters. The tables were filled with beings of all sorts. Some were notable. Others were simply there to add flavor.

In another corner of the cafe, slightly to the left of a gaping salaryman and slightly to the right of a certain blue-haired Irish waiter, a darker chibi-cat-thing with rugged hair removed his cigarette from his mouth, puffed out some smoke and tossed the stub aside, promptly setting the waiter on fire. His terrified screams were ignored by everyone in the cafe.

The dark chibi-cat-thing prodded the heap of radio with his foot.

"Such a waste, Neco-Arc, " said Neco-Chaos. His voice was ridiculously deep.

"AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

"To destroy a good radio just like that. Mastering your most destructive impulses is the sign of a true man." He said it with deep conviction and a sage nod.

"AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

Smashing through the window, the blue-haired (and Irish) fireball rolled out onto the pavement. He was then hit by a passing lorry.

Neco-Arc scratched its head.

"I'm not even sure we have genders, nya."

"Ah, but that is the mystery."

Another puff of smoke, then a side glance at the shattered window.

"We're going to have to repair that," noted Neco-Chaos.

Outside, it was morning. Or night. Or day. Whatever. The metaphorically infinite fields of the Nasuverse were there for the taking...

So why weren't they earning more?

It was just another day for a certain Defender of Justice. In this case, it was buying the ingredients for lunch, which was surprisingly important when you had to pacify a Tiger. And a King.

The redhaired teen walked along the road, dressed in his usual white-blue raglan shirt and jeans. He seemed to be completely focused on the idea.

"Twelve o' clock, " he muttered, glancing at his watch with a frown. "If I get cabbage, eggs, and bacon, I can make okonomiyaki. Maybe with a bit of salmon, for variety. Seafood would be nice."

He passed by the new cafe. There was an ambulance and a smoking body in the middle of the road, which seemed completely forlorn in its deadness. The paramedics seemed to be debating whether they should actually bother with this one. Naturally, Shirou didn't notice. He was too busy weighings the pros and cons of seafood.

Pros: he wouldn't need any imagination. Cons….

'But Shirou, we had this last month!' A hyperactive schoolteacher's whining voice rang out in his head.

'Shirou. This is most unbecoming of your standards. I expected more from you.' Saber, shaking her kingly head in disapproval.

'Oh, senpai! Looks like I win this time… and you know what that means, don't you?' Sakura, clasping her chopsticks, leaning in with gleaming eyes.

'Dishes foreeeveeeeeeeer~'

Shirou balked.

"Ah, dammit." The youth rubbed his temples in a fit of frustration. "What do I do? I knew I shouldn't have made Japanese all of last week."

He stopped and turned, looking at the cafe with the unpronounceable name.

...It was a long shot, but maybe he could get them to eat out for once.

From his position on the opposite rooftop, the white-haired man in the red T-shirt sighed. With his tanned skin and chiseled features, he looked like a beach model - a very annoyed beach model. Butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. It'd curdle.

"I know I was stupid in the past," he muttered caustically, "but this takes the cake. Ahnenerbe, Emiya Shirou? Do you want your life to be ruined?"

The man stood, then gave a resigned smile.

"Whatever. My lovely Master Rin wants me to stalk you. And if there's one thing I'm good at, Emiya Shirou, it's stalking you. Guess I'd better file the report."

"Halt, Archer."

The curt command was backed by the flick of a nailed chain. Keen eyes flashing, Archer dove under the wicked point. To any human, it would have been too fast to see. Archer, on the other hand, went through three sarcastic quips in mid-roll.

"Library too intense for you, Rider? Or do you really have nothing left to do?"

Smirking, Archer rose to his feet. Through her spectacles, the statuesque, purple-haired woman gave him a stoic look. With a light tug, the chain whipped back to coil in her hand.

"You shall not give your Master the location of Emiya Shirou," she stated. "Sakura has forbidden it."

"Oho. So that's what it is. A little sisters' spat. Does your Master want a date too?"

Archer folded his arms.

"You know, she's welcome to him. It's not like I care who Emiya Shirou ends up with. In fact, whoever Emiya Shirou ends up with can have my most sincere condolences."

Rider remained impassive. Archer raised an eyebrow, then carried on.

"But still, I have this certain compulsion to follow Rin's orders. I can't explain it for the life of me. Maybe it's that Command Spell. Maybe it's my dislike of people who try to make their points with really sharp weapons. Trace On."

His mental forge shot through the seven steps like clockwork. Hands bursting with light, Archer raised Kanshou for throwing, even as he moved Bakuya into a defensive guard -

Rider took off her glasses. Archer froze.

"Now, tell me where Emiya Shirou is," she said, peering at her immobile enemy.

Naturally, Archer said nothing - but his eyes gleamed in amusement. Rider put on her glasses. The white-black crescent blades dematerialised as Archer folded his arms again.

"You mean you don't know?" he smirked. "Don't you live in the same house? And here I was thinking you had good senses. Shoddy, just shoddy."

To his great pleasure, Rider flushed. Then she took off her glasses. Archer froze in mid-breath.

"It's all these people," she muttered, looking petulant. "The beer, too. Now, tell me where Emiya Shirou is."

She put on her glasses.

"Not telling," said Archer, exulting in triumph.

Rider's face burned even brighter. Whether it was embarrassment or vexation was up in the air.

"W-we can do this all day," she huffed, trying to sound threatening.

"Be my guest."

He made sure to look as smug as possible when she took them off again.

The twin-tailed girl was beautiful. The twin-tailed girl was smart. The twin-tailed girl wore a very short skirt. No matter where she went, heads turned at the twin-tailed girl. And as she walked down the road to New Town's shopping district, the twin-tailed girl looked her sister straight in the eye.

"So, you're telling me that you have no idea where Emiya is? And that you haven't sent anyone to find him?" asked Tohsaka Rin, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Sakura smiled angelically. Her purple hair swayed lightly in the wind, as if to emphasize her innocence.

"No, Sister dearest. Have you?"

"Humph. Of course not!" Rin folded her arms and raised her chin. The two kept walking.

Okay, so turns out I'm not quite gone after all. The author renewed my contract, if only because putting in an Author's Note might prove just a tad awkward. Good for him, I say - and me, and you, because you get to hear my lovely voice again.

Call me the Narrator, ladies. I narrate.

Anyway, back to business. The author would like you to know that he does not own TYPE-MOON. If he did, he tells me that he would be a lot richer than he actually is, and also Kinoko Nasu. Which he is not.

(Also, he said he would make the Fate route a lot shorter, cut out all the eye-searing sex and give Illya her own little world of happiness. All the time. Every time.)

The author would also like to draw attention to the excellent manga All-Around TYPE-MOON, the inspiration for this series. It's basically a hilarious fanfic in the form of an official manga. It is every bit as awesome as it sounds. Unfortunately, he tells me that he has limited knowledge of Tsukihime and Kara no Kyoukai, which means that it'll be mostly Fate characters in this fic until he reads/watches up. I believe the official term for that is 'filthy casual.'

(What's that? No, I'm being good, I promise. You're getting your money's worth, Mr. Author.)

So. What's left? Ah, yes.

Updates will be spasmodic and short. No grimderp or seriousness shall be found. No powers shall be respected. Onward for great justice.