Disclaimer: I'm once again entirely too late with this update. On the bright side, I graduate from college in a week so that should definitely give me some more free time. Free time that I really need to devote to this story. Anywho, enjoy the chapter!
Chapter 15- Women
Who would have thought something as simple as doing your laundry could be so eventful? It seems like no matter what it is, Nero has a way of making anything more complicated than it needs to be.
For better or worse.
I'm currently wearing a completely different outfit than the one I had on before. Which is understandable considering my clothes are currently spinning around in a washing machine down the street.
We'd visited the laundromat. I'd abruptly stripped down to my underwear without a moment's hesitation. That had caused some … complications. The clerk hadn't been appreciative of my lack of modesty and had threatened to call the police. A lot of talk about "sexual harassment" took place.
Nero, was even less helpful. She took my "display" as a challenge. What kind of challenge? Whatever kind of one that involves stripping; if there is such a thing. Her exact words on the matter were "Praetor, seeing your confidence in your bare form has encouraged me to indulge the eyes of this world further! Praise me for my generosity!" The situation was resolved with a few head pats, a generous tip to the clerk, and by letting Nero have free reign to my credit card.
Many mistakes were made.
Originally, I had done it as a distraction. Give her the card and ask her to get me some clothes replace the ones being washed.
She had the gall to protest. Something about not wanting me to conceal my marvelous splendor now that she'd become privy to its radiance once more. Those weren't her exact words but that's the gist of it. I have no clue as to what she's talking about. The entirety of my body looks like it's been used as a pincushion. Not exactly something to marvel about. Then again, she is Roman. Them and those damn Greeks did have an odd fascination for the naked body.
Anyway, the 'quest' I sent her on ended up being fruitless. Yeah, she did bring me some clothes back but … I'll put this bluntly. The first costume (because it was indeed a costume fit for Halloween) looked to be for some sort of Roman Centurion cosplay. It even had a replica galea (probably made in China). That was vetoed. The second outfit was approved of. However, this was done only out of necessity. I didn't want to send her for another errand run only to waste more time and while it wasn't something I was exactly approving of I could at least tolerate what she'd gotten me.
Because at least I could pretend it wasn't what it really was.
She had me dressed up like a butler.
Or at least, that's what I thought initially. I even had a bowtie and white dress gloves. Both of which I'd tossed into a trash can when she wasn't looking. I already had my own pair of gloves, thank you very much, and I had no clue as to how to put on a bowtie. Nor would I even if I did have a clue.
It wasn't until we'd left the laundromat that I realized exactly what it was she'd gotten me. It wasn't a butler's outfit from some weirdo cosplay joint. She wasn't trying to get me to look like some demonic servant from a homoerotic anime. No, she'd gotten this from a different shop than the one she'd gotten the costume. This was a tuxedo. She'd visited a tuxedo parlor.
"Saber?"
We're now working on fulfilling my promise to let her go shopping. We haven't even entered a shop yet and are instead just parading down the sidewalk as Nero searches for a place "worthy" of her being.
It took her less than five minutes to find a place "worthy" of me but we've been at this for thirty and she's still searching. That's kind of insulting, to be honest.
"Yes, Praetor?" She briefly turns back to look at me, a smile quickly finding its way upon her face.
"Why am I wearing a tux?"
Confusion flashes over her features. "You put it on, Praetor?"
Not what I meant, but ok. "Why did you buy me a tux?"
"I find it to be fitting."
Sure? It does fit me rather well. Speaking of which, how did she manage to discern my exact measurements …. Y'know what? I'm going to just chalk it up to her having an 'artist's eye' (if such a thing exists) and drop it. Some things are better left unknown.
What follows after this brief interaction is something I can only describe as a 'montage'. It all started with the first shop we entered. A shop that we had to backtrack to. Yes, she wasted thirty minutes of my life only to realize the shop she actually wanted to go to was the one she'd been in before.
"Welcome!" A pause, as realization dawns upon the store's clerk's face. "Ah! It's you again!"
She's much too cheerful.
Much. Too. Cheerful.
"I don't think your orders are anywhere near being ready for shipment. Is there something else you want?"
Orders? Ready for shipment? "What in the name of Pesci did you buy?" It takes everything within me not to bust a gasket.
Nero waltzes right up to the register. "Yes, citizen." 'Citizen'? What is this? The French Revolution? And is she ignoring me? "I wish to peruse your establishment for myself."
"Oh!" Another dawn of realization flashes across the clerk's face. Then she notices me. Our eyes lock. Mine, a light-bronzish color. Hers, a dull brown. Completely uninteresting and lacking little in the way of intelligence. Right then I know I've entered the Gates of Hell.
"Is this your boyfriend?!" My left eye twitches. It twitches. "He looks just like Shizuo Heiwajima!" What. "Well." She puts a finger to her chin in thought. "He looks like what I'd imagine Shizuo would if he looked less Japanese and aged ten years." I can't take it. I just can't. I slump over at the waist, as if I'd just taken a killing blow.
"Man, this guy must be loaded for a girl like you to pal around with him." This is said in what I can only assume to be was her attempt at a conspiratorial whisper. I say 'her attempt' because I can still hear her despite being partially deaf. Which means it was less of a whisper and more of a squeal in delight.
"Nonsense, girl!" I don't know whether I'm glad Nero's going to defend me or not. "His financial stability is merely an inadvertent bonus to his other charms!" … At least she's honest? "And I much prefer older men to begin with. Even if he is not as old as he appears." She folds her arms across her chest, leans back, and beams at the girl.
Another shrill squeal. "You're so cool!" Now I know why we're back here. This is the costume shop Nero bought from, right? Yeah, I can see why she'd return to this place. She gets praised here. "I want to be just like you when I get older!"
Hearty laughter greets her praise. But before Nero can open her mouth to respond (and make this spiral further out of control) I lunge for the clerk's register. Slamming a palm against its laminated wooden counter in the process.
"Two things." I say this with so much force I'm practically barking at her. Surprisingly, it doesn't seem to faze her. In fact, if I'm not mistaken, she looks like she's actually … happy to be talked to in such a tone? The hell? "First. I do not look like whatever husbando you just mentioned. Second. I am not this chick's boyfriend." I point my thumb in Nero's direction.
She nods her head. "He is my Praetor." Yeah! That's what I am! "However, given the opportunity I–
"Oh! I get it! That's why you bought that armor set! You guys are into that roleplaying stuff." Fuck the what?
"Clerk." I don't even bother to call the girl by the name listed on her uniform. "Go find her some clothes."
She attempts to protest. "But–"
"Now." All it takes is a heated glare and she scurries off with a 'yelp'. Doesn't even bother to ask what size Nero wears.
Nero?
Yes, Praetor?
Please avoid talking to her more than necessary. We're on a time crunch after all.
… Alright, Praetor.
Why does she sound so downtrodden? Yeesh, now I feel like I just kicked a puppy.
You do want to go to other stores. Right?
She experiences a quite visible moment of clarity.
Of course!
Well then, we better hurry before they close. We haven't got all day, after all.
Probably the worst thing I could have said but, as they say, hindsight is 20/20. If only I'd had enough foresight to avoid the inevitable shitshow that was to follow.
The clerk eventually returned. I ended up sitting on a hard bench as I waited for Nero to come out of the changing rooms (I'd vehemently denied her offer to join). When she did return she was wearing perhaps the most ridiculous getup I've ever had the dissatisfaction of witnessing in person. It was certainly ostentatious, to say the least.
Somehow, Nero had chosen something that both provided the least amount of coverage while also still retaining a bunch of unnecessary attachments. What do I mean by this?
Princess Leia's golden bikini was more modest than this shit.
And for some reason Nero had desired wings. Yes, wings. On both her back and her head. Why were there wings on her head? Beats me.
So yes, my 'partner' in this death battle we had decided to compete in was currently wearing a string bikini. A string bikini that apparently came with wings and some sections of plate armor. For the shoulders and legs, of course, because those are most definitely vital organs worthy of protection. The heart? The head? Nah. Let them stay uncovered. It's not like they're important.
It should be noted that she actually did retain a portion of her dress with this change. No, not any of the dress itself. She kept the ribbon in her hair. Yay. And she somehow managed to upgrade her high heels. So now they were even more unwieldy looking.
"Praetor, how do I look?"
"Why do you have wings on your head? You look like Disney's portrayal of Hermes."
My response is an exasperated gasp. "That is all you noticed, Praetor?" She starts briefly (thankfully) doing a catwalk strut. It ends with her going into her chosen 'Emperor's pose' except this time she adds in a peace sign.
The fuck is my life?
"Oh, I see what you mean. You have a new sword. Why the hell is it rainbow colored?"
"Praetor!" Now she's groaning in annoyance. "You did not notice anything else?"
My vision focuses attentively upon her person. I think at this point the clerk's cleaning up the changing room. Thankfully. If that weren't the case I have no doubt she'd come out here to add her two cents. During this intense bout of observation, I come to a final conclusion.
She's not wearing a string bikini. No, hers is strapless.
"How does that stay on your tits? There's nothing holding it in place?"
Nero looks like she's about to have a stroke. And yet, somehow, she still manages to reply in her usual fashion. "The magnificence of my breasts knowns no bounds!" I know she's forcing it now. There's a slight blush creeping onto her cheeks. She's just doing this to avoid breaking down.
If I were a nicer man, I'd probably give in about now. But, I already gave in before (allowing this 'shopping spree' to take place at all) and she's just killed several of my IQ points with this outfit's appearance so….
"Are you saying your boobs have a gravitational field of their own?" I have no earthly idea how I manage to say this while still retaining a calm composure. It takes every ounce of my very being to avoid laughing hysterically at the absurdity of not only my statement but this situation itself.
This is just the first store.
How many more? Pesci. Please don't make it more than necessary.
Tears start bubbling in the corners of her eyes. She's sniffling now but trying oh so hard not to fully lose her composure.
"I look like Venus, do I not?" She briefly pauses to allow for a single sniffle. "Praetor?"
No mercy. No quarter. I'm going in for the kill. "I mean, not really. Venus is kind of just a rock that's constantly getting a tan because of how close it is to the sun. And I don't think it has a really big gravitational field. It's kinda small. Unlike Jupiter." I point to her chest. "If those can do what you claim they can, well, you're more like Jupiter."
She starts rubbing her eyes with the back of her arm, wiping the tears that had coalesced together.
"Jupiter …?"
"Yeah. Y'know, that big hunk of rock? Fifth planet in the solar system?"
She's not listening to me. She's just staring blankly off into the distance. "Jupiter …."
"That's what I said."
"The king of the gods."
Wait … where is she going with this? "Yeah, the planet was named after him."
"You are saying that not only does my beauty already rival Venus' own, but that this outfit grants me the same commanding aura Jupiter himself was famous for."
"No, that's not at all what I'm saying. I was–!"
"Citizen! I wish to purchase this! As well as any you yet have in stock." Nero turns to me, a massive smile on her face. "After all, we cannot let any other woman dare to copy my appearance."
Excuse me?
"Is that in addition to what you ordered before?" The clerk pops into view.
"Of course! This should suffice, no?" She hands over my credit card.
And that's how I came into possession of thirty-seven carbon copies of that ridiculous outfit (surprisingly enough, they weren't selling well). Thankfully, she had enough decency not to wear it in public. Hopefully, I'd be able to return them when this was all over. Either that or burn them so the world would be spared such a hideous sight. That would be fitting considering what she did to my house.
I can only hope the batch she ordered before this one wasn't more egregious.
After this debacle, we made our way to the next store. This one being a shop that exclusively sold swimwear. An odd choice, considering it was far past summer, but for whatever reason Nero insisted we look inside.
"No."
"Umu!"
"Stop making that idiotic noise. You're not a Pokémon and I already said 'no'".
"But Praetor! All you need to do is pick one!"
Before me were two options. Two paths for me to choose from.
On the left, I had a red version of Borat's mankini. Except this is, of course, meant to be worn by a woman and not a hairy little Arab man.
On the right, I have something that, in comparison, is less revealing but still not exactly something to write home about. It barely conceals the breasts, basically only hiding the nipples behind two striped straps that cross over one another diagonally in an 'x' shape. At least the bottom half of the suit is better. It still looks like it could slip off at any moment, but I can say it looks somewhat normal.
"When are you even going to go to the beach?! Did you forget we're fighting a war?!"
"We were in the water but a few days ago, Praetor?"
Wasn't that when I was drowning?!
I can't help but sigh. What in the world have I gotten myself into?
"Personally, I prefer onesies. They do a much better job at accentuating a woman's curves."
Did I just say that out loud?
Nero stares at me, her mind seemingly going into overdrive as she starts processing this information. "Explain."
"Do I really have to?"
"Yes, as your Emperor I demand it of you."
I let out a mixture of a death rattle and a sigh. Fuck it. I might as well double down with this. "Ok, well … how should I put this? Sometimes it's not about what you show but what you don't show. You get me?"
She tilts her head in confusion. "I do not. That is contradictory to the goal of an artist, is it not?"
I'm not exactly the person who should be answering that since I'm not, y'know, an artist but … let's give it a shot.
"I suppose it depends on whether or not you believe the artist or the audience gets the final say in what a piece means. I'm of the belief that it's the observer's opinion that means the most. If they cannot see what the artist intended for them to, then the artist has failed. Has he not?"
She mulls over this and, seeing this as an opportunity to push ahead (and possibly get off this topic of swimsuits), I continue. "So, logically, the job of an artist would be to make sure their message rings through in their work. Right?"
"I suppose that is an accurate conclusion."
Of course it is. "And how would you do that? By making the audience focus on what you want them to."
"How does this relate to my choice of swimwear?"
And there she goes. Bringing this back to that topic. The topic I was trying to get off of. "Your choice of clothing determines where people will look at, yes?"
"That is a sound observation."
"Your dress makes people look at your tits, ass, and panties," I say this in the most monotone voice available to me. I don't think there's any other way to go about this.
"Praetor, you are grossly oversimplifying the magnificence of my–"
"Nah ah, remember what I said. The viewer gets the final say. That's just how it is."
"I do not necessarily agree with that but fine. Even if that is the case, who is to say that is a bad thing? As long as someone is marveling at my being everything is as it should be." Cue the Emperor's pose.
"Alright, I get that. It's nice to be admired. But I just have to say that I'd find it disconcerting to be lusted over. You're just made of tougher stuff than I." I shrug, hoping to drop this conversation for good. We've already prolonged our time spent in this shop too much and I can only guess how many more she wants to go through.
"Why though?"
"Huh?" I had expected her to get the hint and move on but apparently that's not the case.
"You say you dislike the idea of being desired. Why? Is this not something most men wish for?" Her eyes search mine for an answer. Why is this even being brought up? Who cares? It's not like any of this matters. My opinion on this type of thing is meaningless in the long run.
"I … I've seen some things. Terrible things. The concept of 'lust' isn't something I particularly approve of." This isn't the sort of conversation I want to have in a swimsuit shop. This isn't the sort of conversation I want to have at all.
"What happened to you?" Is that pity in her voice? Sympathy? Possibly empathy? For whom? Me?
Outrageous.
"Not me." I physically shake my head, formally rejecting that idea. "Others."
"Who?" It's the obvious question to ask. But it's not something I can answer. Suddenly, I wish that we could start talking about swimsuits again.
"I can't go into details but … you remember Kiara? The nun we met who's acting as the overseer?"
She nods, her expression souring ever so slightly. Still seems she has that dislike of the Church.
"She had a … difficult childhood." That's putting it lightly. "She got mixed up with the wrong crowd." What am I? A soccer dad? This sounds like something an old man would say. But how else can I explain this without giving away too much? After all, it isn't my story to tell. "I met her in the midst of this and I … tried my best to get her out of it." Yet another failure of mine. But at least with this one she was still alive. Broken, yes, but alive.
For some reason, Nero's mouth goes wide, as if she's seen a ghost. "The dream."
"The what?"
She's already waving that outburst aside. "It is alright, Praetor. You need not say anymore if it is difficult for you. I understand."
Well. That certainly made this even more awkward. I was expecting her to be a little more inquisitive. Not that I'm going to take this for granted or anything (quite the opposite) but still.
"I apologize, Praetor. I misjudged you."
"Eh?"
"I had thought of you as a voracious sexual deviant." What. "An impudicus trying his best to hide his inner beast." What. "I believe now that I was merely projecting my own inner desire upon yourself. Wishing for you to be something you never were." What?! "To think, my Praetor would be in the service of Pudicitia. Certainly not the goddess I would have chosen but I cannot fault you much."
She smiles brightly. "You are truly a noble savage." Again, what?!
"How am I supposed to respond to that?"
"Moving on." No! You cannot just 'move on' after giving me that sort of spiel. What in the hell even was that?! What was she even talking about? And who does she think she is calling me a 'noble savage'?! "I believe you stated you prefer a 'onesie' because it 'accentuates a woman's curves better', yes?"
"Ah, yeah?"
"This would indicate you at least have some interest in the female form, yes?"
"Again, how am I supposed to respond to that?"
"There is still some hope for you yet, Praetor." Now if only I could say the same to you. "Back to the matter at hand," Oh, thank Pesci. "I need you to describe what you see me as!"
"No."
"Umu."
"Stop abusing that!"
"Umu."
"Fine. You're pretty–"
"Mmm, I believe I am understanding your tastes better. In the past, you called me 'attractive'. However, now your choice of phrasing has altered slightly."
"You cut me off. I was going to say 'you're pretty annoying'."
"'Pretty' is the compliment a young child would give his first crush. It stands alongside the likes of 'cute' and 'adorable'. I cannot disagree with any of these being accurate descriptions of myself, however it has been quite some time since someone called me 'pretty'. Beautiful, perhaps. Divine, yes. Radiant, gorgeous, magnificent, exquisite, extraordinary–"
She's now just complimenting herself. Rambling on an entire dictionary page's worth of descriptions without a second thought. It's somewhat disturbing.
"Wondrous, glorious, charming, d–"
"Hey, is this going somewhere?"
She halts midsentence. Turning to me with an unfocused gaze. "Worry not, Praetor! I already have an idea as to what you would like!"
"Get yourself something you like and not something I do. I'm not going to be wearing it."
"Merchant! I am in need of assistance!" She struts over to the shop's register, undoubtedly seeking the poor lad that had been manning it when we came in.
Nero had been particularly 'picky' with her taste of attire in this store. As a result, she'd tried on a lot of outfits. About 99% of which she found didn't suit her needs. Which means there's, give or take, roughly ninety-nine swimsuits that need to be rehung on the shelves.
I'm somewhat ashamed of myself for allowing this debacle to continue. It's not surprising at all things went down this path. If anything, I'm surprised this didn't happen in the first few stores she went to. For whatever reason she's being more finicky with her choice of swimwear.
Which is unbelievably stupid, by the way. I've already pointed out to her, approximately a half-dozen times, that there's no need for such an article of clothing. This city doesn't even have any good beaches (at least compared to other parts of the world I've been to). And even if it did there's no way we'd be going to one. But, even if we were (Pesci knows how she'd manage to convince me of that in the middle of a war) we'd soon find the water wasn't exactly beach body ready.
What I'm saying is that it'd be cold as hell. Something I can attest to considering I almost got hypothermia from our brief (unwanted) swim in the harbor.
I get that she's immune to the elements as a result of her status as a Heroic Spirit. I really do. But there's no way I'm going to take a break (during a war) just so I can drive (probably with a stolen vehicle) her ass to the nearest beach. Only to not even do anything but sit on the shore.
Ok, maybe if I had a pina colada or a margarita in my hand it wouldn't be too bad, but still. My point stands.
We're not getting a beach episode. Fuck no.
Beaches suck anyway. They have sand. And, quoting one of the greatest Casanovas of our generation, 'I don't like sand. It's all coarse, and rough, and irritating. And it gets everywhere.'
"Praetor? I believe this fits your tastes?" Oh wow, she managed to change that quickly? I suppose I should at least be happy these shops aren't that busy, otherwise this would take even longer than it already– The fuck is this?
"What are you wearing?"
She's wearing a … a … school swimsuit?
A … middle school swimsuit?!
What is the name of Pesci is she trying to say about my 'tastes'?!
It doesn't fit her. I don't think I need to explain why it doesn't. Just know that it doesn't. I have no earthly idea as to how she managed to slip into it to begin with.
"What do you think Pra–?"
"No."
The smile that's on her face wilts ever so slightly. She apparently assumed I'd accept this idiocy.
"Did you ever think maybe that wasn't in the adult women's section for a reason?"
"B-b-but Praetor, it was the only one I could find!" It … was the only one you could find?
What in the name of all that is holy was the point of the past conversation if there was only one outfit?! I could have said anything and you would have still come out with the same swimsuit!
I glance lazily in the direction of the two workers sorting through her rampage in the back. I'm probably going to have to crack some skulls if they did this intentionally. I've already got enough of a headache and this is just piling it on worse.
One of the two turns around, feeling my glare focused on the back of his head. He takes one look at Nero and a secondary look at me and pales considerably. For a moment I believe this is because I've genuinely terrified him. Then he starts … begging?
Pleading, actually. And he's mouthing something. It's along the lines of "Please don't make me look for a different one!"
Ah. So that explains it. This is actually the only onesie they have and Nero's been working these two sad SOBs like a sweatshop would.
I have two options before me. Order the two overworked fellows to find her something different. Or just accept this and move on with my life.
I don't think there's a point in making them suffer anymore.
"You know what? It's great." My tone of voice says the exact opposite. I just want this all to end.
Nero swipes a finger across each of her eyes. Was she actually starting to tear up over this?
Stupid woman. Who puts so much thought into what they wear anyway?
"Really?"
"Yup." I make no further commitment to complimenting her choice of … attire. At least she didn't pick one of those other two swimsuits.
I'm caught off guard by what happens next. Nero … embraces me. Shouting in joy as she does so. I can ever so slightly feel the texture of rubber through my shirt. It's … somewhat unpleasant.
"Ok, ok. There, there." I pat her on the head like a dog. The workers see this. They make no comment.
Thankfully.
"Citizens!" This again? "I would like to purchase all of it!"
She points at the massive pile of clothing they'd been working on hanging back up. And guess what's on top of this? Those two ridiculous swimsuits she displayed before me but a moment ago.
Well, I did tell her to buy what she wanted and not what I did.
What I wanted was none of this. She wanted all of it.
Apparently, I'm not the one wearing the pants in this relationship.
"T-t-that's … gotta be at least …." I start making a few mental calculations to try and discern the price of everything she's gathered.
For their worth, the two workers start playing a game of Rock, Paper, Scissors. I can only assume this is in order to determine who has to scan everything at the cash register.
I'm going to be penniless by the time this is over.
"Wait, Praetor. Look!"
"No. No more. Please. No more." We've been in and out of about a dozen stores by now. My laundry's definitely done and my bank account's probably in a coma. And this is after it'd just been brought back from the dead.
Brought back from the dead after she murdered it by buying that hoity-toity mansion.
"But look! Does that not meet the expectations you placed upon me? Is that not 'pretty'?"
I stop. This again? Pesci, I just want to go get my clothes from the laundromat and go home.
Is that too much to ask for?
"Look, I think you've gotten enough for one …."
I stop talking. Before us, in one of the storefront displays, they're showing off a dress. Normally, I wouldn't give it a second glance but … for whatever reason it just looks like the perfect outfit for Nero. I have no clue as to why. It's just a simple, red frilly little short dress. Nothing too out of the ordinary. In fact, it's almost as short as Rin's so I probably should be hating it. But I don't. Something about it just seems 'fitting'.
"Modern costume of Crimson."
"What kinda name is that?"
"I shall return momentarily, Praetor! Do not miss me too much!"
Nero rushes to the store's door … giving my hand a quick squeeze as she runs off.
It's … odd. Not unpleasant but … surprising.
It shouldn't have caught me off guard like it did but, well, I dare say that it's sometimes hard to differentiate Nero the Heroic Spirit from Nero the girl.
Sometimes, it almost feels like we're not fighting in a war.
"There you are!"
And then Rin Motherfucking Emiya screams loud enough that even a partially-deaf man (myself) can hear her clear as day.
"Oh, I didn't expect you to show up again so–"
Wait … why is she rearing her leg back? And … is that a banana peel on her head?
"Useless!" Her leg shoots forward and I swear I hear the crack of a gunshot when it makes contact. Where does it hit? Simple.
My crotch.
I slump over from the blow, hiding my face from Rin's prying eyes.
"There, maybe that'll teach you not to be such a jerk. Do you even know what I had to go through because of your little stunt?"
I can't help it. I start laughing. "Ahahaha."
She blinks, perplexed as to how I could be in a jovial mood. "Why are you laughing? How are you laughing?"
"Do you–ahaha– do you really think you're the first chick I've pissed off?" I restraighten my posture, finally getting a clean look at Rin's not-so-clean appearance.
She's covered in grime and filth. Why, it looks like she'd just gotten off of an episode of Dirty Jobs. That pale white complexion of hers has been coated by a bronze layer of garbage.
"An upgrade of the old jockstrap and protection cup combo." I wrap my knuckles against my groin, eliciting a dull metallic thud from my nether regions. "Heh, you couldn't hurt me if you–!"
She hits me smack dab in between my legs with a kick that has to be Reinforced with prana. There's no other way she'd be capable of lifting me a solid couple of feet off the ground.
Houston, we have lift off.
The pain is so unimaginable that for a moment it feels as if I'm having an out of body experience. She's gone full nutcracker on me and I can only hope her actions haven't turned me into the Sugar Plum Fairy.
I don't even have the chance to scream. The best I can do is whimper.
The only satisfaction I can reap from this is the pain that Rin is undoubtedly now experiencing as well. She kicked a solid hunk of steel. Reinforcement or not, she'll be feeling that for some time to come.
And that's probably why she's hopping in a circle on her left foot. Hope she doesn't have any plans of playing soccer for some time to come.
But I digress, my condition is far worse. The metal did absorb most of the direct damage, but it was completely useless at handling the force itself. Meaning, while the kick itself wasn't capable of making contact with my flesh directly it was fully capable of applying pressure the likes of which only fighter pilots who've experienced G-force can sympathize with.
"Praetor, what was that n–" It is at this moment that Nero exits the nearby store. The first sight she sees is me clutching my crotch and trying my best to wait out the sheer shock I'm currently going through. The second sight is Rin rolling on the ground while tenderly clutching her foot.
Oh but hey, she's decked out in that dress now. The new one we both were admiring but a scant few moments ago. I can't be bothered to care about any of that now.
"One. Two. Three. Four." Counting helps. Barely, but it helps.
What helps more is the bear mace. Yeah, bear mace.
I produce a can of it from seemingly nowhere and waltz (well, 'waddle' is probably a more accurate term) right up to Rin.
"Let me show you just how committed I am to true gender equality." If only my attempt at being menacing didn't come out in a squeaky, somewhat falsetto tone. I probably sound more like Mickey Mouse than anything remotely frightening.
I mentally prepare myself for the likely consequence that will result from this course of action. Rin will most certainly try to land a counterattack, and I have little confidence that I'll be able to dodge it in the sorry state I'm in. At best, I can only hope that she won't think enough to Reinforce her leg to the degree she did with that last hit. She's already dented the metal between my legs. One more blow and she'll probably cause it to splinter altogether. And I can only balk at the thought of where those splinters of steel will go.
But, it'll be worth it. Ok, maybe it won't but this injustice cannot be left unanswered! She must be punished for her crime against me and that punishment must be worse than just a sore foot!
I aim the can straight at her face, and she pauses in her bemoaning once she realizes what the can is.
"You wouldn't."
"Oh, I most certainly would. After all, you did assault me."
A third kick comes my way before I can even react. Crap, she's aiming for the exact same spot! I'm going to be a eunuch if this–
Smack.
Smack? That's not the sound I was expecting. Maybe she didn't get a chance to Reinforce her leg enough? Wait … why am I not feeling pain?
…
And why was I so resigned to accept my fate?! I didn't even try to block her kick!
But … it seems someone else did.
"Heh, thanks for the save, Saber." Nero managed (I say this as if it was hard for her to do) to grab ahold of Rin's leg before it could hit me. Unlike with the Taiga incident (as I will now call it), she was able of stopping the attempted blow way before it even came close to landing.
"Now, just hold her still and I'll–" I shake the can as threateningly as possible. "Make her eyes ache as much as my gonads do."
"Wait, Praetor. Is there not another way this can be settled?" Ah, Nero, Nero, Nero. You're trying to be the voice of reason now of all times? I'm sorry, but the concept of reason vacated my mind the second she tried to eradicate the possibility of me ever continuing my genetic lineage.
"Nope. You know the saying: 'an eye for an eye'." I begin to depress the can's button. Any moment now and Rin'll be squealing like a pig from the pain. That should teach her not to–
Why is the can now pointed at the sky?
Well damn. It seems my longtime enemy has reared its ugly head once more.
Gravity. You're such a bastard.
Nero had grabbed my wrist and, in her attempt at 'saving' Rin, threw my aim off immensely.
Which causes me to shoot the entirety of the can's contents (she also somehow managed to 'accidentally' keep my thumb on the button) into the air above me.
And, as physics dictates, the contents of said can rain back down upon me. What goes up must come down.
If only I hadn't been staring upwards in confusion. If only I had at least had the sense to close my eyes.
If only ….
Fast forward five minutes (no need to mention all the agonizing pain) and we're all sitting outside a convenience store a few blocks down the street from where that initial 'scuffle' took place.
I'm currently pouring milk into my peepholes. Rin's holding a bag of ice to her foot. And Nero's trying her best to sit between us and keep the peace.
Hey, I suppose I should at least be thankful that she apologized for the entire incident. Especially when I should be doing the same since I technically exacerbated the situation. But I won't. Because fuck Rin. Fuck her and her Karate Kid bullshit.
She's not the only one that has a bag of ice but at least hers is outside her clothes.
Did I mention she never apologized? Well … she didn't.
A loud drawn-out sigh sounds off beside me. "Sorry about your … you know. I was aiming for your gut."
We both know that's a crock of shit. "I'm only sorry that you didn't end up breaking your foot."
Something taps me on the shoulder. "Praetor, I believe I need to show you a thing or two about diplomacy."
"Yeah, gonna have to decline on that. Diplomacy only works when both sides have something worth negotiating over." I send a heated glare to Rin. "And right now I can't think of a single thing she could give me."
"I find that surprising, Praetor. I did not expect your imagination to be so … lacking."
What in the hell does that mean?
"I can think of at least a dozen ways in which Rin here can be of assistance."
Rin, for whatever reason, has turned a bright shade of scarlet. "I retract my apology! I want no part of whatever it is your thinking of!"
Neither Nero nor I seem to understand why she's getting so worked up. "But Rin, did you not imply you had knowledge of our competitors?"
"She also said she could fix my hearing and look how that turned out."
"At least I tried!"
"I think I would have preferred you not. You got my hopes up over nothing."
"Praetor, that is not entirely fair. Her intentions were praiseworthy. Despite her execution."
"Nope, that's not how this works. Don't promise results you can't achieve. If anything I should sue her."
"Sue me?! You're going to sue me?! I should sue you!"
"For what?"
"For vandalizing my house!"
I have to mull over that for a second. What is she talking about? Vandalizing her house? When did I even step foot in her …. Oh. Wait. Didn't she say she bought the Tohsaka dump? And didn't she try to threaten me with that before? Ugh. This girl's a pain in the ass.
"How about we just call it even stevens and let bygones be bygones? I trashed your already trashy house and you failed to fix my ears after saying you would." I awkwardly extend a hand in front of Nero, trying my best to bridge the gap between Rin and I. "Let's just drop this matter completely. We're both assholes, ok?"
Rin stares at the hand and instead of shaking it she chooses to cross her arms. "Aren't you forgetting something?"
"What?"
"You threw me into a trash compactor!"
"Technically speaking it was the homeless guy that did the throwing."
"Praetor. I do not believe it wise to bring that up."
"What homeless guy?!"
"Sorry, I can't answer that. I didn't think to get his business card."
Is her eyebrow twitching? Yeesh, girl has some anger issues.
"You. Are. Unbearable."
"Oh? You want me to be 'bearable'?"
Her eyes narrow, as if she can tell this is a trap. "Isn't that what anyone would want?"
"Well ok then." I direct the next bit at Nero. "Hey Boo Boo let's, uh, go get us a pic-a-nic basket, yeah?" She blinks in pure, utter, confusion. Her brain incapable of processing what I just said.
"Is something wrong, Praetor?"
"This is where you say 'Ok, Yogi'."
She hesitates, biting her lip as she ponders as to whether or not to follow my instructions. Apparently, her trust in me (foolish girl) wins out and we're graced with perhaps the most grandiose 'ok, Yogi' to ever be spoken audibly in the public domain.
With that out of the way, I turn to Rin. "That better for ya? Or do you want me to say 'only you can prevent forest fires' too?"
She silently stands up, completely ignoring the bag of ice she's left on the floor, and starts to trot off.
"Where are you going?"
"To your house."
"Hey! That's trespassing!"
"Right now, I can't handle you and, unfortunately, you have something I need. So, I can't just leave you to your own devices." She keeps walking away, getting quieter and quieter as the distance between us widens. "This is a good compromise. It gives me some time to compartmentalize the idiocy I just witnessed into a remote part of my mind."
"Don't you dare go into my house! When I find you your ass better be sitting at least 500 feet away from my front door!"
She waves that demand aside completely, still walking away like a zombie.
"Psshh, stupid girl's going to end up dead."
"How so, Praetor?"
"She's going to get ambushed."
"Ambushed?"
I pour the last droplets of sweet, sweet liquid calcium onto my face. Hoping, praying almost, that it'll finally quell the last remnants of burning in my eyes. It does. Temporarily.
"Think of it like this. We've been ambushed four times by Servants (two times by the same one) and I've ambushed a Master once." I stand up, instinctively offering a hand to Nero to aid her in doing the same. "That a record of 4-1. Which means the odds are in favor of us being ambushed again." Yes, this is an unfortunate fact I've long since accepted. I'm still furious it's the case, but it's better to embrace the inevitable rather than fight it. At least, in cases where that 'inevitable' is just a minor annoyance and not an outright problem.
Being ambushed by reanimated historical figures that want to murder us is a minor annoyance. Only because we have to kill them anyway and, while it's a frustrating experience, at least we won't have to track them down.
Oh, I will most certainly do that if the option presents itself but for now it seems like we have a better chance at just waiting for the enemy to come to us. Then, when they inevitably don't die because they're cheeky shits, we can follow them to their lair and stomp them out for good.
We'll probably get ambushed a second time along the way (and their hideout itself will probably be an ambush) but fuck it. Embrace the ambush is what I say.
"I've also noticed that they only come out when you think they're not going to. So, we can time when they'll ambush us by telling ourselves that they're not going to ambush us."
"Praetor, could you repeat that once more? I do not understand."
"It's simple. We know they're going to ambush us when they know we don't know they're going to ambush us. So, to know when they're going to ambush us we have to tell ourselves that they're not going to ambush us. So then they'll ambush us but we'll know they're going to."
"Praetor … I still do not follow your reasoning."
"Rin doesn't know that she's going to be ambushed so she's going to be ambushed."
"But Praetor, using that logic, you know Rin will be ambushed so therefore she will not be ambushed."
Oh? She raises a good point.
"Furthermore, Praetor. Rin already ambushed you. However, you knew she was going to because you suspected she had not died. Therefore, your initial observation is flawed. We can be ambushed when we expect it or when we do not. It is merely up to the enemy to decide."
"So, you're telling me I wasted the entirety of my afternoon for nothing?"
"What do you mean, Praetor?"
I sigh. "I figured that they'd come after us during the shopping. I mean, we were prime targets. Neither of us had our guards up and there weren't a lot of bystanders around that would have gotten in the way."
"Praetor … do you mean to tell me this was all a ploy to draw out the enemy?" She sounds … sad? Distressed, definitely, but why? Did … she really care that much about a shopping trip?
"No? I figured that was going to happen anyway. I haven't had a moment of peace since this War started. I'm actually surprised things went as well as they did."
She blinks, the frown that had been threatening to creep up on her face shifting to an expression of awe. "You mean to say, you enjoyed the time we spent together?"
"Sure? Why wouldn't I?"
She starts laughing. Why, I do not know. "Of course! Why would you not? After all, not everyone can have the privilege to spend an afternoon with an Emperor!"
"You're trying way too hard."
She fake coughs awkwardly into a fist. "I do not know what you are talking about. And Praetor? I will have you know that I too enjoyed the time we spent together today."
"Sweet." We just silently sit there. Staring at one another without blinking. I would assume any passerby would take us both to be morons.
"Praetor, I find your lack of reaction to be troubling for many reasons."
"Duly noted. Can we go get my clothes now? The laundromat is going to close soon."
"Preposterous. They cannot close as long as I have business with them. To do such would be sacrilege."
"Keep telling yourself that. They're still going to change the sign to 'closed' if we're late."
"Hmph, a citizen of Rome is incapable of displaying such a level of rudeness."
"Well, they're citizens of Fuyuki City. Two completely different things."
"Perhaps to you Praetor, but in my–"
"You freaks chose now of all times to pop up!"
The both of us halt in our tracks. "Was that Rin?"
"I believe it was, Praetor."
"I am not in the mood for this!" Rin's shrill cry echoes over the horizon.
"Does this mean my hypothesis was correct?"
Nero grabs my forearm. "Not now, Praetor! We have to help her!"
"Do we? Do we really?"
"Stand back!" Again Rin's voice reaches us.
"Praetor!" Nero doesn't seem at all amused by my hesitation.
"Fiiinnneee."
And so, the two of us rush off into the distance. Two gallivanting white knights charging forth to save the fair maiden from horrors left unknown.
Ah, who am I kidding? Nero's rushing off. I'm slowly waltzing down the sidewalk. Not at all concerned about the wellbeing of our acquaintance.
Do I even need to say why?
I'm still sore.
... Wait. What about my clothes at the laundromat?
"Goddammit, Rin! Why couldn't you scream just a little quieter!"
AN: As always, a big thanks should go to King Keith for looking this over for me. Be sure to check out his work if you get a chance! Now, as for the chapter itself: this was more or less another feel-good chapter. I hope it didn't come across as being unnecessary fluff because trust me when I say this is going to build us into the story's next 'arc'. By the way, big thanks to all of you who answered my little set of questions. So far I've gathered that it's probably not a good idea to start up more stories before this one's complete, that Dante becoming a demi-Servant would be kind of dumb, and that Fate Last Encore wasn't a mixed bag (an opinion I agree with, it was much too trippy). I appreciate all the feedback! Just as a heads-up, I'm going to be doing another poll on my profile. This one will be in reference to which story I should do next. The options being "Dante and Diarmuid", "Dante and Atalanta", "Dante with Tamamo in the Moon Cell", "a Fate fic completely without Dante (possibly with Hakuno)", and potentially "a sequel to Schizoid Man". This last one, of course, depending heavily on how this story ends. I'm also very much considering a Fate Zero fic in which Dante (or another Servant) is summoned by Kirei Kotomine. It wouldn't exactly be based in canon (considering how the Fuyuki Grail can only summon Hassan as an Assassin normally) but I actually like Kotomine as a character and wish he'd gotten someone with more "personality" than Hundred-Faced Hassan. Let me know how you guys (and gals) feel about the idea. And remember, "Joe Pesci loves you"!
...Did you think I was done? Nope! Onto the reviews!
Jajo Camello: I get exactly what you mean when you say you prefer an underpowered protagonist that still manages to win. We all love rooting for the underdog. I'm going to try my best to keep that part of Dante going strong while also slowly building him up power-wise. Not to the point where he's able of taking on Servants single-handedly (cuz that would be stupid) but to a degree in which he's going to actually be able to contend against fellow Masters. Hopefully, I won't disappoint!
SMV Aria2: (This is going to be cringe so brace yourself.) Yes! Senpai did finally notice you! I'm thinking to play it safe I'll wait on any spin-offs for now. At the most, I'll start one up near the very end of Schizoid Man so there isn't a delay from one to the next. Oh, and yes, Dante being a demi-Servant does sound like it has a lot of potential for being godawful. It's one of the only ways I can think of Dante being involved in the events of Grand Order though but that might just be my lack of imagination at play. And, Last Encore was definitely... 'meh'. Nowhere near as good as Zero or UBW. I appreciate that they tried to be different (and went a completely different way than canon Extra) but... it was just disappointing in the end. But hey, Nero was good.
Darebear the bear: I like to at least try and think of how certain things would work before writing them off completely. Keeping an open mind is important after all. Really, what you're doing is just the first step of brainstorming for a story. It's something I do quite a lot. Come up with an idea, think about how it could work and how it couldn't, and decide whether or not to use it after doing so. It's kind of like the scientific method lol. Anywho, you're right that it's more of the former and less of the latter. I'll give you a hint: it's a character we haven't yet seen but know will be popping up because a character related to them (not in a familial way) has already shown themselves. Hopefully, that's vague enough to peak your interest while still not giving it away completely XD. As for your responses to my questions (thanks for responding by the way)
1. I agree with this. Not the part about this being the best Fate fic because (while that is immensely flattering and I'm happy you think that) Chaos Theory is a thing that exists on this site. I don't think anyone will ever be able of competing with that lol.
2. I get what you're saying. At most, if he were to be a demi-Servant he should be paired with someone weaker and not someone like Ishtar or Zhuge Liang. Less of that and more of Dante being paired with Neil Armstrong or Wernher Von Braun (who apparently are Servants in canon).
3. I don't want to influence your opinion on it but... it's not for everyone. Especially since it doesn't really follow canon (I can see how that'd upset fans of the game).
And those Kiara endings will be coming, you can bet on that!
Lady Vanatos: Thank you for saying that :D. However, I feel I'm the only one at fault for this. My update schedule is way out of whack.
King Keith: I get what you're saying. If anything, I feel like writing a sequel right after Schizoid Man would end up burning me out on Dante as a whole. Which is why a "sequel" probably wouldn't even include Nero (and that would rightfully upset some people) until later on. Hmm... how about Dante being a demi-Servant "contracted" with Bonnie & Clyde? Except instead of having two voices in his head (that'd make him go crazy) he's summoned as a substitute for Clyde alongside a Bonnie? I'm less inclined on the demi-Servant idea now seeing the points many have made but that'd probably be the way I'd go about it if I chose to. Of course, it'd be annoying to have Dante and another OC (well, technically not an OC because it's Bonnie & Clyde but...).
ZenoZen: In that case, I'm going to put your answer strictly in the "hell no" category just to play it on the safe side lol. I'm terrible at updating two stories in a timely fashion, I can only wonder what would happen were I to take on a third. Yeah, making Dante a demi-Servant would undoubtedly give him an unearned power boost. Which isn't really fun because there's no struggle involved. And on the topic of Last Encore: whew, you are most definitely right about having to not think about Zero or UBW while watching it. The studio that created it has an entirely different style. Which, I can see many enjoying so I understand why you like it. Personally, I ended up liking it less than everything we've gotten recently besides Apocrypha and Prisma Illya. Which doesn't mean it's bad by any means. Oh, and I am most definitely glad to be back (says this four months later)! I'm praying/hoping/pleading that I'll be able to get chapter 16 up in like a month or two (or if I'm really ambitious a few weeks). I have a much better idea of where I'm going with this now and with my schedule opening up considerably I'll have no reason (aside from laziness and procrastination) to take so long.
Gundam-Knight-Chris: Hoo boy, I'm going to come up with all manner of nicknames for Rin besides just that lol. And hopefully, they'll be way more clever than just "Rin Motherfucking Emiya". I sprinkled a little bit more UMU in this chapter just for you, and finally followed through with that long-awaited promise of having Dante getting his coconuts crushed. A fight will likely be coming up in the next chapter. As for how good it'll be... eh, I'm terrible at fight scenes so it's anyone's guess :P.