A/N:

TheLastNanaya: you have some of my readers to thank, they were the ones who suggested that I put this in the general FSN archive, because otherwise I would've been fine with just leaving this in the Grand Order archive instead.

-Akyuu no Joshu


Flames march around my feet as I trudge through the sand again.

I haven't seen them in a while. But given the fact that I've regressed into using my flame power again, it only makes sense that they'll haunt me here.

It's not really "haunting", though. I've gotten tired of hearing nothing but wind, grinding sand, and the crunch of it underneath my own shoes, but then again, anybody would be. At least the flames add a bit more spice to this dreary audio landscape that I'm subjected to while I continue to wander this wasteland aimlessly.

Well, "aimlessly" wouldn't be accurate, but to anyone else, it would certainly seem like it.

I pull down on the visor of my cap and continue walking. I'll wake up soon.


"...my husband, and yet you dare have the gall to insist that you also possess a spot in this same bed?"

"Preposterous, you do not even possess a marriage certificate, and you have not even engaged in a marriage ceremony with Master. Surely you are not the one who is truly delusional? And to think that I am the one who possesses the Mad Enhancement skill..."

...it's a bit loud.

"That has nothing to do with this! And how many times have I told you by now, Kiyo-chan, this is my husband, and no one will be laying a hand on him but me! Do you not respect this right that I have as his wife...?!"

"Ara ara, and you continue to insist on being his wife when you really aren't. How silly, Tamamo-san, I thought you were supposed to be a gentle lady like myself who is able to think through things rationally and thoughtfully..."

"Ex-cuse me, did I just hear an irresponsible snake who burned a man who refused her feelings inside a bell talk of things like rationality and thoughtfulness?"

"Those are but trivial matters; all that matters is that Master resembles that man greatly and that it is my duty as his Servant to take good care of him. Which also involves not letting a wily little fox like you get the better of him."

"L-Little?! But you're shorter than me!"

"But by a mere two centimeters; I think you will agree with me here that that matters not, all things considered."

...why are they both in my bed?

"In any case, Kiyo-chan, I know that we're friends and all and I'm really super duper happy that we managed to meet, but Master is my husband, whether or not the marriage has taken place," Tamamo insists, and this is the part where she seizes my head and stuffs it into her bosom. I wonder if I can see the universe from here.

"That we are, but as goes the phrase, 'all is fair in love and war'," Kiyohime talks back, also seizing me swiftly after Tamamo does and trying to pull me towards herself, so now I find my head sandwiched in between two pairs of omega-sized marshmallows. "Master shall be mine; fate has dictated it."

"Since when?"

"Since I became his Servant in the Singularity. If fate had it any other way, that would be proof that I was not destined to meet him. But now that it has, that is proof that we are in fact destined. You can play with your own little childish visions of becoming a wife while I have the power of fate behind my cause."

"Yeah, as if you known anything about fate! And I can take care of him better than you can! Even Master can tell you that!"

"But he has yet to have a taste of my own powers of being a wife...?"

I would love to stay like this, but not only do I not want them to argue because I would much prefer them to get along, but also their boobs are quite literally suffocating me. So I wriggle my face out of them and blink a few times.

"Ah, Master ~ " Tamamo seizes her chance to pull me out of Kiyohime's arms and hugs me dearly. "Good morning, I apologize that a certain snake managed to slip inside our very private bedchambers - "

"No, that's fine, it's just, my bed isn't exactly an open hotel," I groan quietly, rubbing my right eye.

"See, Kiyo-chan!? He said that this isn't an open hotel! That means you aren't allowed here! Shoo, shoo!" Tamamo tries to manually shoo Kiyohime away with her left hand.

"You do know that that also applies to you too, Tammy."

Tamamo, as expected, lets out a gasp of betrayal.

"M-Master, how...how could you...?" Tamamo starts sniffling like I've dreadfully damaged her feelings. "After...after all these...these lovely nights...! You...you want to cast me aside...?"

"Goddamn it."

Kiyohime just chuckles as she sits up next to me. She, just like Tamamo, is still fully dressed in her usual sea-greenish-blue kimono.

"It must be difficult for you to have to deal with Tamamo-san. If you would like to seek a more gentle and accommodating wife, by all means, Master, I am all too willing to take up that responsibility, ufufu ~ "

"Don't do it, Master, she's gonna put you in a bell somewhere and torch you!" Tamamo squeezes the side of my face once against into her chest.

As enjoyable as this is, I'd rather not have to wake up to this everyday.


April 24th.

"Mmm...you can't get your agent in China to lower this price at all, then?"

Spinning an ordinary, cheap office pen that you could buy by the box at Staples round and round my fingers, I recline slightly in my chair with my office phone in hand. Jeanne is sitting quietly and dutifully on the foot of my bed, dressed in a sleeveless white shirt that dangerously exposes much of her back and pretty much the entireties of her frail but soft-looking arms, a small navy blue ascot, dubiously short jeans, and dark thighhighs. I think it'll be a good idea if I head out and buy some more chairs or something; there's a conspicuous lack of chairs in the house, now that I have, what, nineteen Servants under my wing.

The door opens, and I turn around to see who it is, which is Matthew about to enter the room and then doing a double take at the sight of me holding the phone up to my ear, a dead giveaway that I'm talking to somebody, obviously. She tries to slip away quietly in alarm, thinking that she's stepped in at the wrong time, but I shake my head over at her and beckon for her to stay while listening to another one of my business partners in New Orleans, who runs a furniture store and imports his wares in from factories in China, around the Shanghai area. He's new to the importing and freight logistics stuff of his business, so I'm advising him personally on some stuff, since this is also one of those cases where my dad knew his uncle, who retired recently and passed the business onto his nephew.

"Well, right now we're at the time of the year where freight prices start slowly going back up," I speak into the phone as Matthew excuses herself and slips inside while closing the door as quietly as she can behind her, joining Jeanne at the foot of the bed with Fou nipping at her heels, though not literally. "If you wanted to ship a lot of stuff, you should've done that over the past couple of months, like some time right after Chinese New Year's. You still can now, it's just...it's a bit tougher to get your containers shipped at the price you want."

Once Matthew is seated comfortably at the foot of my bed, with Fou snuggling into her lap and Jeanne reaching over to pet him, I swivel around to face my desk again and take a look at some of the manila folders I've got sprawled over my desk.

"Remember, you have a couple of different rates. The price I sent you goes inland, it's what we call a mini-land bridge," I explain. "Your container comes in through LAX, and they put it on rail to send it over to New Orleans. But that's the fastest route we have, so naturally it's gonna cost the most. The cheapest price we have goes all the way around through the Panama Canal and then goes back up to New Orleans, maybe after stopping by a free port somewhere of the carrier's choice. That takes the longest, but it's the cheapest. Your uncle used to plan stuff ahead of time so that he could always pay the all-water fees and have a steady supply of shipments coming in, but sometimes he used the MLB prices too if he needed some stuff in his warehouse fast."

Scribbling some more messy notes on the topmost manila folder, because my handwriting has gotten progressively worse throughout my schooling years and hasn't ever improved since, I set down my pen after I'm done and turn to my computer to type away.

"Okay, so the all-water route...got it. I'll confirm it with my agent. If you have any questions, let me know through email. If it's urgent, you have my number, as usual," I conclude. "Okay, Chris, have a good afternoon, you too, thanks, bye."

I click the phone off and set it back in its charging port. The rapid clicking of cherry keys fills the air briefly until I send the email that I'm typing.

"Okay, I'm done with work for this morning," I announce to the girls, stacking up the various folders on my desk and then neatly arranging them back into the folder stacks on my side desk right next to me.

"Thank you for your hard work, Senpai," Matthew smiles warmly over at me as Fou, hearing that I'm done with work, wriggling out of my self-proclaimed underclassman's lap and leaps over to me, and I catch him and start messing with his ears a little.

"I-I hope I wasn't a bother during your work, Master," Jeanne stammers out. She'd come in to talk to me, a little while ago, but then I told her that I'd like to finish my work for the morning but also told her that it was okay if she wanted to wait for me inside my room, and she accepted. I'm not quite too sure of what I think about the legendary Joan of Arc sitting in my room, on the foot of my own bed, in admittedly slightly provocative casual clothes, but I'm not against it, either.

A really fucking vague way of saying that it's pleasant.

"Nah, it's fine," I shake my head while waving my hand, all in a matter of less than half a second. "But you asked during the Singularity what kind of business I ran, and it's this. Nothing much to look at, though, since almost all the work I do for my business is electronic."

"I see..."

"Anyways, how do you like it here? My house is a bit small, as you can see, for nineteen of you," I smile awkwardly. "And this is a completely different country, too, and I believe you've never been out of France before..."

"Not in my own lifetime, no, but I have traveled extensively as a Servant," Jeanne professes, but as soon as she says that, she hesitates, a gloomy look being draped over her face. "But...that's what is so strange..."

"The fact that you remember what happened in your previous incarnations?" I ask, still busy playing with Fou's ears, and Jeanne nods.

"Servants shouldn't be able to remember what they did in past incarnations of themselves. After all, whenever a Servant gets summoned into a Holy Grail War, it is not the actual Servant themselves who is summoned, but a mere copy. The actual Servant remains with the Throne of Heroes; a copy of that Servant is sent in their place. Therefore, whatever memories that copy accumulates stays with that copy; as such, the knowledge and memories that that Servant copy gathers in its lifetime will be lost when that Servant disappears from that Holy Grail War, meaning that they are not normally kept and dispensed to the next copy of that Servant that is incarnated."

"But you're a Ruler, and before this, I'd never even heard of that kinda class. Are Rulers exceptions, or are they subject to that too?"

"Rulers are not exempt. They are exempt from many rules in a standard Holy Grail War, but that, they cannot escape, either. That is why I am a little...worried," Jeanne murmurs, looking quite discomforted, or even disturbed. "It was already clear when I found myself summoned that this Holy Grail War was far from the norm, but this..."

"Try not to let it bother you too much; we'll try to figure out what's so different with this Grail War that's causing everyone to remember what they did in their past incarnations," I reassure her. "In the meantime, is lunch ready?"

Matthew nods. "That's why I was sent up here, to tell you that the food is ready now. Lady Tamamo and Lady Kiyohime outdid themselves again."

"Sweet, then let's go eat."

We shuffle out of my room and head downstairs. The portal that connects my house to Chaldea's headquarters in the Swiss Alps is located in the narrow basement next to the garage, so as intended, both my Servants and I can freely traverse back and forth between my home and Chaldea at our leisure. Now if only modern technology could apply that...

"Ah, Master! Good afternoon ~ " Lily, who's already helping Marie and St. George set the table, which is actually three tables slapped together so that everyone in the house can sit together and eat, greets me energetically and sweetly as always, and I respond by rubbing her cheeks and scratching her hair, to which she responds by squealing a little in delight and smiling so brightly my eyes go blind for a second.

"Good afternoon to you as well, Master," St. George also bids me a pleasant greeting, carefully arranging the chopsticks, forks, and spoons for each of the mats that have been spread out for the plates and dishes for each seat. He's wearing perfectly ordinarily contemporary casual clothes, but for some reason his white shirt has a picture of a derpy-looking dragon on it and the caption over and underneath it spell out "THIS IS A DRAGON".

"Ah, yeah, you too," I nod back at him. I know that I should've expected this to an extent, but it's still really weird to see all of these Servants just hang out in casual clothes like it's no big deal. This'll take some getting used to.

I slip past everyone and peek into the kitchen, where Tamamo and Kiyohime seem to have teamed up to cook up a fabulous Japanese lunch for everyone. I could sit here and describe everything that they've made, but I think I'd waste too much space on this chapter doing so. Though, that does remind me that typically Japanese people don't have lunches this big, but then again, lunch isn't exactly the most important meal of the day for a lot of cultures...

"We're almost done here, Master ~ " Tamamo calls over her shoulder, taking one final sip of her udon broth that she's remade after I praised her fantastic udon yesterday night. "Could you call over the others and tell them it's time to have lunch?"

"A'ight."

Normally I'd love to help set the kitchen, but I guess with five Servants or so already doing that, there's no need for me to hang around and be in their way. So I saunter over to the living room, scratching my head at how different and lively my household's become in a matter of like a week.

I find Salter, Artoria, Jalter, Elizabeth, and Siegfried all hanging out, watching a rerun of Forest Gump on TV. As usual, Salter and Artoria are snacking on something, and this time it's these cheap flavored Chinese rice crackers that I pick up at that Korean supermarket that we went to last time for like two bucks per package. Cheap, but tasty, which is all the matters.

"Food's ready," I tell them as we exchange our round of greetings. I notice that Siegfried's shirt reads "THROUGH THE FIRE AND FLAMES".

"Piggy, piggy, looklooklook!" Liz springs up to her feet with the help of her respectably large tail and shows me a magazine that she's got open to a certain page. More accurately it's a catalog for an electronics store, and on it it's got a studio microphone, studio-grade headset, and other studio equipment. "I heard from that Italian inventor girl that if I buy these, I'll be able to produce my own songs! How about it, piggy? Wanna help me become the next hit idol in this country? I hear pop culture is all the rage these days! It's perfect!"

A brief summary of this current year's "pop culture" songs runs through my head, as I sometimes listen to random radio stations in my car whenever I'm driving around and don't feel like listening to my own playlists on my phone.

"I mean, if you wanna try...?" I say hesitantly.

"Not just try!"

Elizabeth takes a cute little hop backwards, and hoisting her magazine up into the air with her other hand proudly on the corresponding hip, Lancer declares proudly,

"I'll be the best idol singer this country's ever seen! This country, this 'United States of America', is a big country, I know! And a big country undoubtedly has a big population! Imagine it, my dear piggy - a stadium, an amphitheater, a stage where I stand upon it, surrounded by hundreds, no, thousands of screaming fans raving for my exquisite and irreplaceable singing talent - talent that'll take this country by the storm and forever cement my legacy as an id - "

"Uh, Liz, sorry to say, but this country isn't too hot on idols," I say dully.

Immediately, Elizabeth falls over. Hard. She collapses so hard that for a moment, I'm afraid she's broken something.

"N-Nonsense! There isn't a country on this whole wide planet that isn't into idols! ! ! !" Elizabeth screeches, immediately hopping back up to her feet and yowling in my face. Even though I have glasses on, I still close my eyes anyway because there's flying bits of spit pelting me in the face.

"You're probably thinking of Japan. There's a thriving idol culture over there, as far as I'm concerned," I tell her, wiping my face with the back of my right sleeve. "I don't really know too much about idol culture, too, so I can't be of much help, unfortunately. But I can tell you that if you're trying to be an idol here, well..."

"That can't be! I refuse to believe this! You're going to tell me," Elizabeth exclaims, seizing me by my shoulders and beginning to shake me back and forth, her Hungarian accent harassing my eardrums desperately, "you're going to tell me that this country doesn't realize the marvelous appeal of IDOLS?!"

"You're asking me...?" I murmur back incredulously the moment I get a chance to talk - i.e. Liz stops shaking me like a ragdoll.

"Master, you should just tell her to give up on her idol bullshit," Jalter snickers over to us. "If she so cares about that dumb idol crap of hers, let's see just how far she's willing to go to pursue it."

"I don't wanna be told that by a Frenchie who tried burning down her own country," Elizabeth snaps back.

"Says the bitch who slaughtered dozens of her own people just because she thought bathing in their blood would keep her young," Jalter fires back quickly, like a gun just itching to go off at any opportune moment. "Wow, this cute little baby dragon can sure talk, huh? Where'd you learn to have that sort of tongue?"

"And I certainly don't recall ever asking for an opinion that isn't Piggy's!" Elizabeth growls, and I can tell by the tone of her voice that she's growing increasingly annoyed with Jalter already. "Why don't you stay out of this, Burnt French Toast?"

"It's rather hard to when you're shouting around about it in this room, Dragonlet," Jalter scoffs. I notice that Siegfried and Artoria are growing uncomfortable with the way this conversation is going, though both Jalter and Liz seem oblivious to their body languages. "You're doing a great job starting off on your career path of becoming an idol, absolutely tremendous. Keep it up, maybe if you shout around a bit more about how you want to become an idol, you'll - "

Without warning (or maybe perhaps there was one), the point of a wicked lance with a narrow halberd-like blade hovers just in front of Jalter's nose. Jalter, though, doesn't flinch one bit.

In part because the moment I see the lance materialize in Elizabeth's hand, I react instantly. My right hand is already clasped around Elizabeth's spear, just in front of her own right hand that she uses to hold it.

"Master, what...?" Siegfried asks quietly and hesitantly, and even Salter has glanced over in curiosity, but I'm not paying to him at the moment, because I'm glaring hard down at Liz.

"Even if she's provoking you, I'd like to kindly ask you not to threaten someone in my own house," I ask Elizabeth quietly, eliminating any possible trace of emotion in my voice.

"Let go, piggy. I asked you to be my manager, not my warden," Elizabeth darkly hisses back, her neon-ish-blue eyes slowly adjusting at me instead of Jalter.

"And you agreed to be my Servant, not a delinquent," I shoot back. "And if I were to let you two to have at each other, you'll fucking blow up this entire block, which I won't allow. If you want to settle things with her, take it to Chaldea; I'm sure Da Vinci's got some sorta training room for you two to blow up."

"Lady Elizabeth, please calm down. This is the home of our Master; I cannot agree with anything that would involve putting it or anyone around it in danger," Artoria adds, slowly getting up to her own feet as well in her quaint little dress. Siegfried also joins her, but silently, while the Alter girls casually keep watching Tom Hanks carry Gary Sinise out of a Vietnamese jungle in the middle of an artillery strike.

Grumbling to herself in Hungarian, Elizabeth stands down, de-materializing her lance.

"Tch. A manager who doesn't even support me..." Elizabeth remarks grumpily, turning and shoving me out of her way, and she swiftly slips down the stairs to the basement, and we can hear the telltale shwoop! of the portal teleporting her back to Chaldea.

"Don't mind her, Master," Jalter scoffs tauntingly. "She's the kind of girl who can't stand being ignored for very long at all, if you know anything about her. She'll come back soon enough, though I'm sure you're not exactly looking forward to that."

Elizabeth Bathory, the infamous Hungarian countess who terrorized the country by kidnapping, torturing, and brutally murdering upwards of hundreds of young women for her own enjoyment, though the exact number is debated. I don't profess to know much about her, admittedly, so maybe I should take the time to put my history cap back on and do some side research on these Servants. Though, if she really is Elizabeth Bathory, why the hell is she so infatuated with being an idol? Idol culture is a modern phenomenon, so why's someone who lived back in the 16th century so obsessed with that?

As soon as I reach the end of this train of thought, however, we hear the shwoop! of the portal sounding off again, and I turn around to find Elizabeth depressedly walking back up the stairs. She stops at the top of the stairs.

"...I forgot Carmilla was on the other side," Liz, still grumpy, mutters, and she slowly drags her feet over to the table.