13—Mundane Utility
Still damp from his bath, Souichirou ruffles his hair, scattering some water droplets onto the mirror in front of him as he considers his appearance. Behind him, Caster watches with enthralled eyes. She holds her legs curled beneath her as she hides herself within their sheet.
Their sheet, still damp with perspiration and other proofs of the time they've just enjoyed together.
Through his glasses, he observes his reflection as he adjusts them, then straightens his dark green tie, fashioned in a full Windsor, beneath the collar of his white dress shirt. He buttons down his dark green suit coat. The coat and tie match perfectly with his pants, completing a simple two-piece suit, ideal for his current life as a professor. He slides on his brown, flat-bottomed shoes over his dark grey socks.
"Do you really need to leave, Souichirou-sama?"
Behind him, he can hear the disappointment in her voice as she asks a question to which he knows she already knows the answer. He breathes a soft sigh as he turns around to face her, her forehead pressed into her knees, hiding her despondent frown and eyes from view. Still, he at least owes her a proper answer, and knows as much.
"You've asked me that many times. The answer is the same each time. Yes, I have to leave."
As always, his words and tone are cool and even, and bereft of feeling. It's a simple fact, and he states it as such. She looks up at him, puffing her cheeks and showing another of her adorable pouts.
"I can't understand the value in teaching those brats about things that took place decades and centuries ago."
She speaks of his profession, an instructor of history.
"It surprises me to hear you say something like that." He turns again to the mirror, looking himself over one last time before returning his attention to her. "Those who do not learn from the past are doomed to repeat it. Being from the past yourself, I'd think you'd have more concern for that sort of thing."
"Ah, your words are so wise, Souichirou-sama!" Her face alights as she speaks in a near exaggerated tone, her pout turning up in a bright smile as she gazes back at him. "I still wish you didn't have to leave."
"I'll return at the usual time. I will see you then."
"I'll be waiting."
She stands, letting the sheet fall away, revealing her soft, light skin, along with everything else, and he sighs again, forcing himself to focus only on her eyes.
For everything else he is, he is still a man.
"I know what you're doing. I have to go."
She echoes his sigh, taking a step forward. "I know. There's something I haven't said yet."
While she runs her finger down his jawline, she places another deep and firm kiss on his mouth, holding him there like that for several seconds before, reluctantly, she allows some small distance to form between them.
"I love you, Souichirou-sama. Please take care today."
He continues to lock her in his cold-looking stare as he wrestles internally.
I wish I understood my own feelings well enough to say that in return.
His expression remains steady until her gaze drops away as she shows a small, sad frown. It's not that she doesn't know his feelings, even if he doesn't. She's simply pained by his not expressing them, and doubly so by her selfish desire to hear him state them.
"Please be safe. The War hasn't started yet, but there are still some who would not hesitate to kill you if they discover you are a Master."
He nods, turning toward the sliding door.
"Souichirou-sama!"
His hand rests on the frame.
"Something else?"
She nods. "I… tried to improve our chances earlier today. Before…" She frowns hard, glaring at the floor. "Something… interfered. I tried to fill one of the last slots by summoning a servant of my own. But my attempt was unsuccessful… I failed."
"I see." He looks back at her, over his shoulder. "Do not trouble yourself over such things. It is unfortunate, but we are no worse off now than we were before."
Her frown softens, then lifts into a relieved smile as she meets his gaze. "Y-yes! I will do better next time, I promise! Thank you, Souichirou-sama!" Lightly, she bows her head.
"Caster. I'm about to open the door."
"Yes?"
He sighs again.
"You may wish to cover yourself."
She blinks at his words a few times, then looks down and quickly turns all the red as she seizes the sheet and wraps herself with it. He slides the door open and steps through into the temple hall, pulling it closed behind him. To his left stands a young man in glasses with dark blue hair and eyes, wearing a beige student's uniform and slip-on flats.
"Kuzuki-sensei. Early as usual, I see?"
"Ryuudou-kun." He nods his acknowledgement toward the student.
"How's your fiance?"
"She is well."
Ryuudou tilts his head and stares at him blankly, a perplexed frown forming on his face.
"Just well? That's all?"
He gives a single stiff nod that, and the student heaves an exasperated sigh as he kneads the point of his furrowing brow.
"Kuzuki-sensei… Did you at least remember what I said?"
Wordlessly, he continues staring at the student, who again sighs deeply.
"It seems not. I shouldn't have to tell you. She is your fiance, after all. But at least try doing better at seeing her off." He turns toward the exit. "I'll see you outside, and we can walk to school together. Maybe I can help you become more normal."
Souichirou watches him depart as he turns his words over in his head.
Damn it. Damn me. He's right. It's so stupid. It's such a simple thing, but still.
He slides the door to their room open and finds Caster laying on their bed, still wrapped in their sheet, inhaling deeply with a comforted smile on her face. At the sound of the door, she snaps her head toward it, bolting upright, her face shining like the sun with an elated grin betraying every thought in her head. The grin lasts about two seconds before quickly turning in a downcast frown as he shakes his head.
"No. I still have to go."
Again, her countenance sinks, and she puffs out her cheeks, showing another pout. If he didn't know better, he'd say she knew how much he loved those pouts.
"But before I left, I wanted to say something." He turns his head slightly, looking outside, to where Ryuudou is standing, waiting for him. "I'll be looking forward to dinner tonight."
With that said, he slides the door closed and leaves the way Ryuudou left before him, leaving a stunned Caster sitting quietly in their room, trying to parse what's just happened.
… Looking forward… to dinner…?
She stares at the door for what feels like much longer than it actually is, her stunned silence prevailing for every moment before her mouth falls open, letting out a single, disbelieving sound.
"What…?"
It takes a few more seconds for reality to sink in, and her face turns upward in a gigantic smile as she falls back against the mattress. She's not ignorant of what's happened. She heard the entire thing, but she doesn't care.
I know that boy had to prompt him, but—!
Her legs flail skyward as she fights back an excited, girlish squeal.
"Aaah! My heart! Souichirou-sama…!"
Her hands find their way to his kimono, and she brings it to her face, inhaling deeply and releasing a long and satisfied sigh.
Souichirou-sama…
Over and over, she rolls, holding his sleep-wear to her chest. A foul thought, some slight perturbation, threatens to deprive her of this moment, but she flips it, stealing it of its power.
Even if it was by that cretinous bastard, if it meant getting to meet Souichirou-sama…
She lets out another deeply contented sigh.
It was worth being summoned.
Finally, she sets the garment aside, stands and stretches.
Reminiscing and reveling in pleasure is fine and good, but there's work to be done. This morning's failure still weighs on her mind. There's nothing to do about that, but there is something she can do now, and she means to set about it. She turns and approaches the mirror. A bright flash illuminates the room, and as she examines her reflection, she finds it clad, concealed in an elaborate, form-fitting purple dress and hooded cloak. Satisfied, she smiles at herself and pulls the hood up and over her head.
That failure this morning… I've squandered that chance. Something interfered. It may have been preventable if I had more mana. There's nothing I can do about that now.
In the middle of the room, she seats herself with her legs crossed as her form glows, enveloped in an unearthly light.
All I can do now is continue drawing on their life force. Those of this city, and the one across the way, to give us the best chance at victory. Worry not, my sweet nothings. You'll feel no pain. Just some fatigue. And you should rejoice. After all…
A sinister smile works itself across her face as she closes her eyes, setting her mind to work, probing outward through each of the city's leylines, searching for the threads of vitality that will allow her to draw on the life force of their owners.
You're helping us win. But not too much. I can't risk drawing attention to myself. Or Souichirou-sama. Just enough to give us the needed edge.
Her smile widens as she draws on that vital force, converting it into something usable for her. But something is off. One strand is far brighter than the rest.
Almost blindingly so.
What's… this?
With her mind, she reaches out and touches it, then winces as it flashes violently, its power surging into her, forcing her to recoil before it overwhelms her.
N-no! That's not—!
Releasing the strand, her eyes snap open. In that instant, the face of the man to whom it belongs is burned into her mind.
The small man with the shining green eyes, clad brilliantly in red.
The morning air is crisp and cool as Souichirou steps out of the temple and into the courtyard. It's a modest courtyard, paved with stone and bereft of foliage. Something that somehow seems to boast humility. Behind him, still in their room, his fiance works to secure their victory in the coming conflict, and in front of him, his student, Ryuudou Issei, stands with his arms folded, watching him approach through his plain, thin-rimmed spectacles.
Doubtlessly, anyone else who had just left that room would have an idiot's grin spread from ear to ear for what happened in there. Yet for his expression, neither smiling nor frowning, his eyes directed straight ahead, betraying neither thought nor feeling, one would think it's been any other day for him. That he simply spent the night alone, woken up, bathed, dressed himself, and left. It's not that he hadn't enjoyed the time they'd spent together. It glows in his mind as he walks toward his student.
Expressiveness, even self-awareness. Neither are his forte.
Ryuudou-kun. I should at least thank him for what he said back there.
He stops, standing in front of his student.
His student who regards him with a thoughtful half-frown, his arms folded across his chest.
"So…?"
The teacher turns his stony stare to the stone stairs which lead from the temple courtyard through the forest, which surrounds the traditional, Eastern-styled temple, and into the town proper.
"We should go. You have something to do early today, yes?"
He doesn't wait for an answer. Some sunlight filters in through the canopy of branches and leaves overhead, shining down on him as he descends the long outside staircase.
"H-hey! Kuzuki-sensei! Wait!" Ryuudou takes a few quick steps, catching up. "What about your fiance?"
"I told her I would look forward to dinner. Thank you for the reminder."
His atonal answer causes his student to stop short, almost falling forward. On recovering his balance, he can only stare and blink at the back of his teacher's head as he tries to process what he's just heard.
Th-that's it? That's all he said to her?
He shakes his head, then takes a few more quick steps down, slowing his pace as he again catches up.
"That's all you said? Seriously?"
Silently, Souichirou nods, causing Ryuudou to palm his face over his glasses and breathe out a heavy, disbelieving sigh.
"Kuzuki-sensei…" He eyes his teacher from the side. "What do you even think about your fiance?"
They walk for a few moments in silence as Souichirou considers the question.
What do I think of her? I wish I knew for certain.
He looks down toward the stairs for a moment, then straight ahead again.
"I can't say. At the very least, I know I don't hate her."
"D-don't hate—!" Ryuudou sputters, stumbling to a halt. "I mean, that's great, but—! If you're getting married to her, there has to be more than that, right?"
He skips a couple steps to catch up again, spotting Souichirou's slight head-nod.
"She is kind. Warm and affectionate." Memories of their time together just a short while ago replay in his mind, but it would take an actual mind-reader to know from his stone-faced expression and steady tone.
They both continue down the stairs to the road leading to the intersection. "Our circumstances, how we met, were not normal. Our engagement, how it came about, is even less normal."
"Well, you're able to recognize and acknowledge her finer points." Ryuudou sighs again, though with some slight relief. "That's a start, I guess. But there has to be more than that, right? Or else why would you go through with it?"
"I can't say. Mostly because I don't fully understand myself."
"Don't understand—you don't get your own feelings?"
He doesn't nod, reply, or even look back. They just keep walking in silence, down the road toward the intersection. After they reach it, Souichirou crosses the street, not even glancing at the mirrors set up to expose the blind corners. Ryuudou stops to look at them, then hurries to catch up.
"Sensei! You should check those mirrors. You might get hit by a car otherwise."
"There would have to be cars coming for that to happen, Ryuudou-kun."
He stops again, blinking at the back of his teacher's head as he keeps walking.
"H-how could you know that without looking?"
He just keeps walking, giving no answer.
"I imagine this is where we will part, Ryuudou-kun. I'll see you in class."
With the sun now cresting over the horizon, the two of them stand at the entrance to the school grounds. There's nothing more for him to say, so Souichirou departs, leaving his student standing, staring, perplexed as he crosses the school grounds in silence.
"Huh. He was pretty quiet after the intersection." Ryuudou pushes his glasses up, then walks in the same direction, parsing their awkward trip. "He's definitely odd for a teacher. Even odd as a person. He's odd, but…"
He shows a small, appreciative smile.
"He's not a bad person."
He stops at the front door for a moment, pondering where he should go.
Kuzuki-sensei's on his way to the teacher's lounge. And I still have to meet up with Emiya to handle that stuff. He should be here by now.
"Guess I'll check in the council room." He walks in, his eyes passing over one of the wall clocks on his way, telling him the time—just before seven. "Got here earlier than I thought we did…"
The halls are quiet, with no students in the building at the moment as he navigates them to the council room, where he spends much of his scarce free time during school hours. Usually, just in the morning, during lunch, and for a brief time after school.
The door glides smoothly on its hinges as he pushes it open and gives the room a quick glance. Not an enormous room, with a few plastic, metal-framed tables and matching chairs, and a row of lockers pressed tight against the wall adjacent the hallway.
As he finishes his inspection of the room, he arches his eyebrows, and his mouth wrinkles down in a small frown, noting someone conspicuous for his absence.
That's strange. He's late.
He sighs, shrugging as he pops open the insulated thermos he brought with him from home. It keeps the tea contained within as hot as it had been when he made it. Hot enough to still be steaming, and he grabs a teacup from the table and pours some into it. He lets it cool for a moment as he pulls out one of the several chairs surrounding the four tables, then seating himself.
"Well, he should be here soon enough." From his bag, he pulls several papers, taking a few moments to stare vacantly at them. "After all, he's pretty reliable. But the way he keeps letting people exploit that…" The words leave an unpleasant taste in his mouth, turning it down in another frown. "Well, I say that, but I'm no better, asking him here this early. Maybe I can make it up to him, somehow."
Staring at the ceiling, he taps the papers against his chin, thinking.
What though? He's pretty stubborn. One of his few faults. He'd accept nothing out of hand. I'd have to be clandestine about it.
As he stares into space, searching for answers, a knock brings him back to earth, and he turns his gaze to the door as it glides open.
"Issei, you here?"
"I am. You're a bit late this morning, Emiya."
Shirou steps into the council room, glancing down at Issei as he taps the papers in his hands into a uniform stack. He looks around the room for a few seconds, then sighs.
"Just you, Issei? What about the others? They should be here by now, right?"
Issei shakes his head as he stands up from his chair. "Unfortunately not. The rest of the council members are quite stringent about their schedules. They won't come in early, or stay late."
"That's why you're stuck here by yourself?" Shirou sighs again, looking at the floor and shaking his head. "Handling the routine stuff alone? I guess even the student council has its issues. Too bad they fall on your shoulders, Mr. President."
Again, Issei shakes his head, eyeing Shirou from the side, folding his arms. "No, I'm fine with this. Your sympathy is appreciated, but poorly invested here."
"Huh? Uh, no, it wasn't anything like that. I just didn't like the thought of you having to do everything alone." Shirou's eyes widen, his mouth narrowing over this small misunderstanding.
Issei's eyes narrow, and he shows neither a smile nor a frown. "Hm. No sympathy? Well, I'm not sure I'm happy about that, either. I'll just pretend I didn't hear. I guess saying stuff like that is just your way of showing you care."
The room goes quiet as Shirou processes his response and circumstances. The man in front of him, just a smidge taller than him with dark blue hair and eyes that stare at him from behind a thin-rimmed pair of glasses, regards him quietly as well. The student council president, with whom he's been friends since his first year in this school, and on whose shoulders rest the weighty responsibility of reforming the student council into something more than its current, overly lax state.
Issei takes a sip from his tea as Shirou watches. The simple yet graceful gesture only serves to emphasize his plain tastes. A simple man savoring simple things. Despite his simple preferences, his fine features draw quite a few stares and whispers from their female classmates on the occasion.
I'd think he'd at least show some interest in that sort of thing. Maybe he's just not aware?
The cup clinks as he sets it down, breaking the small silence, and Issei lets out a contented sigh.
"Hm. Hot tea is the best way to start any morning."
Shirou smiles, nodding to himself.
Yeah, he's a pretty plain person. Plain tastes, plain personality. Maybe he's just waiting for the right one. But how's he gonna know without at least trying? Maybe he believes in love at first sight?
"So you were later than I was expecting. Something held you up?" Issei breaks the silence again, shaking Shirou from the shallows of his thoughts.
"Huh? Oh." Shirou sighs, his arms folded, his mouth a small line. "No, nothing serious. There was just this person. Sakura brought him over with her for breakfast."
"Sakura did?" Issei's arches his brow. "That's not good news for you."
"I don't know what you mean by that," Shirou says, frowning. "Anyway, he's just a kid. Oddly dressed, with ears sticking out a bit. But not a bad kid. Pretty polite…" He taps his chin a few times, recalling the brief time they'd spent getting to know each other. "Maybe overly polite. There's something odd about him, but he's not bad."
"Hmm? So just a child then?" Issei shows a friendly smile. "Maybe it's not so bad for you. Unless Sakura has some strange tastes."
Shirou frowns again. "I already told you, I don't know what you're saying, Issei." Avoiding the issue, he presses their discussion forward. "Anyway, what are we working on today?"
"So we're just leaving Sakura and her new friend alone, then?"
"Unless you want to be late for class?"
Issei sighs, shaking his head. He's aware, as is anyone who's spent thirty seconds around Shirou and Sakura together, of their mutual attraction. Something only they couldn't seem to see. That Shirou proves unwilling to play into his small joke is disappointing.
But he's not wrong. There are things to do, and limited time with which to do them.
"Very well. I'm not much for gossip, anyway. Grab your tools, and I'll show you what we're dealing with this morning."
"Alright, sounds good."
Shirou pops open a locker, reaches in and brings out a wooden tool carrier with everything he needs. Wrenches, spanners, a hammer, some screwdrivers, a soldering iron, and a few other assorted odds and ends.
His friend's words stir in his mind. Of course he knows what Issei was getting at, but it's a subject to be avoided at all costs.
At least for now.
Still, it sparks his own interest in his friend's personal life.
"So, what about you? Ever planning to take time away from your student council obligations and pursue some sort of personal goals? Join an after-school club?" He eyes him from the side as he closes the locker. "Maybe go on a date?"
Issei sighs, showing a small frown as he slides his papers into his bag. "Emiya. Such things would only distract me from my training as the successor to the Ryuudou Temple."
Shirou sighs as well, shaking his head. "That's your life, isn't it? Will you at least wait to shave your head until after you graduate, Mr. Monk?"
There are still no students in the quiet halls as Issei leads the way to one of the nearby classrooms. Standard, about what you'd expect from any classroom. Several rows of desks, a chalkboard, a lectern centered on a raised platform, and a small TV suspended from the ceiling for morning announcements.
A few other things as well, but nothing worth mentioning or considering.
"We wouldn't be having these problems if the school could balance their budget properly," Issei says, complaining through his small frown as he stands before one such problem.
A small portable heater.
Shirou nods. "I know. Athletics is the school's biggest draw, so it's those clubs which get all the money. Everything else suffers for it." He sighs, kneeling down near the patient, and Issei mirrors his nod.
"And for that reason, the other students and clubs are having difficulties. I'm trying to bring some money to the other clubs, but the problem is there's no accountability. No one knows where the money is actually going."
"Sounds like embezzlement…" Shirou mutters, setting to work, removing the screws from the heater's cover.
"Sounds like you watch too much TV, Emiya," Issei answers, straight faced as he pushes up his glasses. "Regardless of the reason, one symptom is this. Our shortage of heaters during winter."
"So that's why I'm working on this." Shirou's hand slips and he frowns. "Kh. Wrong head. Issei, can you hand me that torque screwdriver? The biggest one? And that soldering wire, and the iron too… I should be able to fix this with those."
Issei nods, then rifles through the toolbox. "Let's see. This one… and this?" He pulls out a spool of wire, a large screwdriver and a soldering iron, passing them over. "Sorry, I'm not sure exactly. Tell me if they're wrong."
Shirou takes them, shaking his head. "Nope, those are right. Thanks." He sets the wire aside, then takes the tool and sets about breaking loose the screws on the cover. "So if there's a heater shortage, there must be others broken as well, I'm guessing?"
"There are," Issei says, nodding. "In the second AV room, and the art club. Petitions for replacements are piling up."
The first screw comes loose, and Shirou pulls it out, setting it aside and starting on the next.
"But without money, they can't meet the demand?" He quickly works through the remaining screws, setting them in order of removal on a nearby desk before scrutinizing the heater. "Well, there's some good news. I think this one's just old. I should be able to fix it."
Issei inspects it over his shoulder, showing a doubtful frown. "Hm… You think you can, Emiya?"
He nods his reply. "Old things like this are good since they're simple to understand." Rubbing his chin, he stares down at the old heater. "Pretty sure it's just a short. After I get done, it should last the rest of the year."
"That's great to hear! Well done, Emiya! Your reliability never fails to impress me."
Issei's smile broadens, while Shirou looks up at him wearing a tired frown.
"Issei, you're making this weird, saying stuff like that." He looks back down at the heater, shaking his head. "This shouldn't take long. Mind waiting in the hall?"
Issei nods. "All right. I'll be out of your way." He steps into the hall, sliding the door closed.
There are very particular reasons Shirou has made this request. Whatever Issei thinks is the case, he can only guess as he leans in close, examining it in detail.
Maybe he thinks this will be delicate work…
Shirou slides his eyes closed as he places his hand on the case.
"Well, it is delicate, but not in the way he might have been thinking," he mumbles to himself.
Even the most skilled artisans and repairpersons would struggle to diagnose accurately the problems of the most simple of machines without first examining their insides. That he's been able to gain a vague sense of the heater's problems without doing that would have to mean he's going about it in some other way.
With his hand still touching the heater, he sends his mind's eye into it, through his fingertips, and an image forms in his head. A perfect reproduction of the heater, down to the most minute detail.
"… There are two places where the wire's worn thin. Looks like they'll break soon. This heating pipe should last a while longer, and some electric tape should suffice for the power cord."
Quietly, he mutters his observations as he examines the image in his mind.
That's good. I can fix it with the tools I brought with me. That pipe would've been a problem if it was broken. No amateur could fix it.
Had it been the case, he could have repaired it, but it would have required some extraordinary effort on his part. Not the sort of skill most mundane laypersons bring to the table. He'd have to employ what he learned from his father, Kiritsugu—his 'strengthening' magic.
But it's unnecessary. The vision of the heater in his mind fades as he opens his eyes, and he rolls his shoulder to loosen himself up.
"All right. Let's get this done."
After pulling the heater's cover loose, he reaches across into the tool chest, taking what he needs.
I know where it's broken, thanks to that. The rest should be a snap.
The work is so routine he's free to let himself think on other things as his hands practically do the job themselves.
"… Man, this is all I'm good for."
It doesn't stop him from complaining to himself, though.
Father said it. I have no talent for actual magic. The only thing I am good at is visualizing how things are inside. Like with this heater…
He laughs to himself as he removes a few more of the in-the-way pieces to get direct access to the worn wires.
I still remember what he said when I first reproduced a simple wrench.
He plugs in the soldering iron and unspools some of the soldering wire.
Good thing this wire has a resin core. I should really get some for when I run out… Father was just standing there, staring down, frowning. 'What a useless ability'. He could've been gentler about it. I guess it's like he said…
The wrench he reproduced didn't stay around for long before disintegrating into nothingness. His father told him plainly. It's already enough work just perceiving with your eyes. Real mages don't need to understand every single detail.
He was right. What self-respecting magus is going to give you that sort of time if you're both trying to kill each other?
After cutting away the worn wire, he spins the copper strands, twisting them tightly, then holds the soldering iron to them, and the soldering wire to the tightly bound strands, waiting for it to heat enough to melt the solder over the wires.
It's just like that. We don't have that kind of time. Have to understand everything instantly, and be ready to react without warning, so the details are irrelevant.
The solder quickly liquifies, coating the exposed copper, and he pulls both it and the iron back, setting the tool on the stand and the spool at his side before bending the now-cool, tinned copper into a hooked shape. He then repeats the process with the other end of the broken wire.
Even if I understood something so complex, all it would tell me is where it would be most receptive. Where it'd be easiest for me to transfer magical energy…
Now that both ends have been tinned, he hooks them together, holding the iron against them, along with another small piece of soldering wire. Still quite warm from before, it takes little time for them to accept the solder, and he sets the iron down again.
"Issei, can you hand me—oh, right."
For being so lost in thought, he's forgotten for a moment that he asked his friend to leave so he could work, and that he's alone. Sighing, he stands and grabs some black electrical tape.
"Thanks…"
Still distractedly focused, he mutters into space, and to no one in particular.
All I can use my skills for is stuff like this. Knowing what's broken without even looking inside. Any handyman would envy this sort of ability. And anyone with that sort of ability can fix anything with the right set of skills.
In silence, except for occasionally muttering to himself, a tool scraping, or a screw rattling, Shirou works diligently at the task set before him.
Out the window in the hall, Issei can see a few students milling about the school grounds. The clock on the wall tells him the time. Approaching seven thirty. He sighs, leaning against the wall with his arms folded.
He's helping me this much, the least I can do is let him…?
Footsteps echoing down the hall draw his attention, and he turns, immediately frowning. An attractive young woman with long brown hair and piercing blue eyes wearing a simple, polite smile regards him from a distance.
The feeling is less than mutual, and he can already feel himself growing annoyed, sweat beading up on his neck as his eyes narrow behind his glasses.
"—Geh! T-Tohsaka."
Inwardly, her polite smile falters.
That was kind of rude.
Less what he said and more how he said it, his tone carrying a note of discontent. She doesn't dwell on it.
"Student President?" She stands facing him, looking him directly in the eye. "What brings you here so early? Monitoring things, perhaps? Or caring for the club rooms? Always so diligent toward your duties." With a casual sweep of her hand, she brushes her hair behind her shoulder. "Not that your business is any of my concern."
"Humph." He mutters under his breath. "And what are you doing here? Planning something? You're not in any clubs, last I knew."
She shrugs his question off. "Just felt like it, I suppose."
No way I'm telling him it's because every stupid clock in my house went crazy.
He adds a small frown to his narrowing eyes, and Tohsaka lets out a light sigh. His disdain is as clear as that which she'd both had for and shown toward Shinji back outside the archery range. The difference being, while he was oblivious, willfully or otherwise, she is not so blind.
Right. He doesn't like me very much. Maybe it's because I said we should skip those boring temples when we were planning that field trip.
Still, while she recognizes his dislike for her, she feels no need to acknowledge it out loud.
"Let me ask you something else, then," he says, folding his arms and side-eyeing her. "Have you been staying late after school recently? Until well after dark?"
"Nope," she says, shaking her head, holding her arms folded her arms as well. "I always go straight home. You should know that, Ryuudou-kun."
He sighs, obvious annoyance by her flippant response showing on his face.
"Of course I know such things. It's part of my job to know everyone's comings and goings, naturally."
Somehow, she holds back a smirk as she turns his response back on him.
"I see. But if that's true, you shouldn't even need to ask, right? Is it such a small thing, forcing student council work on those outside of it? You should figure these things out for yourself, not rely on outsiders like me."
"Idiot!" His annoyance flares, and he glares at her. "In what way are you an outsider!? And I haven't forgotten how you worked your evil deeds on our Treasurer, you fox!"
Subtly, her eyes widen, hearing herself being called this for the second time in one morning, and in a relatively short time frame.
Fox, fox. What's with that? Ayako said it earlier. Do I really give people that impression? Whatever, I should probably answer him.
"Seems you've misunderstood. I was merely working out how much each club should receive because Mitsuzuri-san asked me to. It's only right for students to take an interest in where their money is going."
He sighs, looking at the ground, holding his hands against his waist.
"H-how can damaging our Treasurer's psyche enough so he has to take a week off school be 'only right' for any student? As always, I'm amazed by your way of thinking."
She takes the moment while his focus is diverted to show a puzzled frown.
He talks like I was torturing the guy. If he hadn't been so stubborn, I wouldn't have had to speak so sternly, or use such a firm tone. It's not like I cast a geas on him or something.
"The same could be said for you. You should keep a closer eye on those under you. It's not fair to show favoritism, either for or against the athletics clubs."
He turns toward her again, slipping his hand into his pocket. The other relaxes at his side. "I know that. I'd intended to deal with that matter myself—"
Before he can finish speaking, the door to the classroom opens, and Shirou steps out, a tool carrier in one hand, a wrench and a screwdriver in the other.
"Issei, the repairs are done."
Immediately, Tohsaka notices the difference in how they carry themselves, and how they wear their uniforms, Issei's coat securely closed up to his collar, over his white dress shirt, and Shirou's worn closed only at the waist, showing his white shirt with a blue collar underneath.
They've had little interaction, and what little she knows of him, mostly just that he's one of Shinji's classmates from class 2-C, she learned from observation, or by word of mouth.
They share very little social overlap beyond this, her being little more than aware of his existence, yet she quickly finds herself wanting for words, having not expected to see him there.
At the same time, Shirou also finds himself surprised to see her standing there and talking with Issei. Seldom have they spoken. Yet as famous around the school as she is, he knows her well by reputation. Tohsaka Rin, perfect honor student and pride and joy of class 2-A. Well respected and flawless in all aspects. An attractive academic, adept even in athletics, yet still modest, at least in her appearance and choice of dress.
Spoken of by many in the school as the ideal to which women should aspire, so it need not be said that her male peers treat her as something of an idol. More than an idol. Idols are attainable, and in her case she's thought of as being so perfect as to be unreachable, only spoken to by teachers.
And people like Issei, who turns from her, focusing on Shirou, who turns his attention from her to him. As he does, Tohsaka stands off to one side, folding her arms and wearing a small frown, clearly displeased over something.
And Shirou can only hazard a guess.
I'd heard she and Issei didn't get along. But I thought she had the eye of every guy in the school… Well, I mean, I'm a guy too, so of course I'm no different in that regard.
"Ah, sorry, Emiya," Issei says, snapping Shirou from his thoughts. "I asked for your help, yet it seems you've done all the work yourself. Forgive me."
Shirou's gaze gravitates toward Tohsaka for a moment, then back again to Issei.
Wow, he's just going to ignore her when she's standing there like that?
"Don't worry about it. So where's next? We haven't got a lot of time left," he says, looking up at the clock, the long hand a few ticks before the six.
Glad for a valid reason to be done dealing with his nemesis, Issei relaxes, sliding his hand in his pocket again. "Yes, the AV room is next. It seems the heater there has been on its last legs for a while, but it looks like it finally died."
"I hope not. It can't be fixed if it's dead. It'd be faster to just buy a new one."
"Still, it would be helpful if you could examine it." He withdraws his hand and folds his arms. "It may be dead to my eyes, but only faking to yours."
Shirou sighs, then nods. "Maybe. Only one way to find out. Let's go take a look."
Issei returns his head-nod, and the two of them depart without paying Tohsaka a second thought. That is, until Shirou stops and turns back toward her, finding her looking around, seemingly lost in thought.
I mean, we don't have a lot of time, but I should at least acknowledge her.
"You're up early, Tohsaka."
It's the best he can do under the circumstances, and he turns around and hurries off after Issei, leaving her standing there, puzzled, her mind completely blank. First, for having to contend with the student council president, then for running into someone she knows only tangentially through an acquaintance, and finally for being summarily ignored.
"Was that supposed to be a greeting?"
She sighs, shaking her head and watching them turn a corner, vanishing from sight.
"Well, that's fine, but…"
The image of him standing there with those tools is still pretty fresh in her mind.
It's hard to put it in words. Some guy standing around so comfortably with tools like that. I'm not sure if he looks useful or scary…
She shrugs, letting the image vanish from her mind as she makes her way to her classroom.