A long and drawn out sigh did little to convey his boredom. As his blond hair billowed under the ministration of the distinct salt-smelling breeze of the ocean, his eyes gazed towards the expansive beyond to take in an endless sight of blue.

"Water… more water… oh, a seabird."

A pair of mismatched eyes blinked while under the guise of an illusion, realizing what they had just seen.

"We must be nearing our destination, then." A deeper and older sounding voice commented from behind, followed by several soft patters of footsteps accentuated by the creaking of wood of this rickety ship they were on.

Blinking yet again, this time, he actually rubbed his eyes off its dazed state to properly register the presence of his traveling companion. Unlike the blond, he was a much older fellow – enough so that no one would argue if he were to introduce himself as the blond's grandfather. But that was further from the truth, for he was nothing more than a friend.

What was once a stranger, now, a friend.

"Is that so?"

As if distrusting of his companion's claim, the blond took a moment to close his eyes and channel his focus to his surroundings. His life force seeped out of his body and into the world, causing several reactions.

"Huh, you're right. We are close."

One, it allowed him to confirm the presence of several hundred or so souls at least half a day's worth of journey from where they were. And two, he also felt that accursed sensation of thirst and hunger that had been imposed upon him by the forces of this world.

"Oh? You used one of your abilities, didn't you?" Despite showing visible distress over the aftermath of his ability, the blond's friend showed no concern at all. In fact, he showed anything if not amusement. "How does it feel? Does it still feel like–

"–being starved for three days straight with no food or water?" The blond responded before the other man could finish his question with a heavy hint of sarcasm, continuing, "thankfully, no. It's more like having my lunch stolen from me and having to work through the day without it."

"Hm," still amused, the man couldn't help but comment, "that's good. It means that the ritual worked. It's not often that I dabble into mysteries such as Bounded Fields and such, so I was not sure if it would work as we intend it to do."

Gripping the handles of the ship tight enough that it caused the wood to creak underneath the pressure of his grip, the man with the two colored eyes blew out air from his nostrils. He could feel his body slowly recovering from the sudden ailment it was forced to suffer, the need to quench his thirst and satiate his hunger disappearing like sands through the gaps of one's fingers.

"That's great and all… but it still sucks that I can't recover as well as I used to." There was bitterness in the younger man's voice, one that was unmissed by the older man. He then continued, saying, "out of all the worlds that I could've ended up in…"

"Hey." Laying down a hand on the blond's shoulder, the man did so in a supporting manner. "At least you don't have to actually indulge in your thirst like most of the cases I know."

"Thanks, Kischur, that's reassuring."

"Oh now don't be like that, Naruto, I'm merely trying to help."

For all it's worth, Naruto really valued Kischur's help. The man was an enigma, eccentric, and a whole case of crazy, sure, but he had the consciousness to help an utter stranger like him even when he didn't have to. Sure, he might had been motivated by personal reasons – reasons that may or may not pertaining him being an Outsider – but the old man had stuck him for all these months, so, that made him worth befriending.

So it wouldn't be wrong to say that he owed the man several favors. Favors that he was about to start doing now.

"Remind me… why are we going to Britannia again? I very much enjoyed Scandinavia. The weather was cold, sure, but I've grown fond of the land…"

"Well, I figured that it's about time for you to make a friend other than me." Kischur would've laughed if it weren't for the fact that they were on the top deck where other people could see them.

The reason for it was the look that the blond sent him. It was a border and mix between being insulted and sheer disbelieve. The blond removed himself from the railings, undoubtedly ready to give him an earful, but thankfully, he managed to stop his blond friend before it could come to that.

"The person I'm about to introduce to you is someone special."

"Are they one of…"

"...in a way." Kischur hinted, before continuing, "she is a True Ancestor and by extension a descendant of the being I defeated many years ago."

Naruto pondered the weight of Kischur's words. Throughout his time traveling with the man he had heard and been informed of the Kaleidoscope's accomplishment.

"So she's a…" A pair of blue eyes born out of an illusion narrowed into slits, "Lunarian?"

"Hahaha!" Kischur could not hold himself back this time. "No, at least not in the way I think you're thinking. She's a True Ancestor and a bit of a special case, if her relation to the Crimson Moon wasn't already enough."

"So, whaddaya want to introduce me to this friend of yours for… who's her name anyway?"

"Arcueid. Arcueid Brunestud."

He tried making a habit out of sleeping. He really did.

But when you were a being who had little to no need for sleep and lost the ability to feel tired, sleeping was a concept that was akin to a hobby rather than a basic necessity.

He never got to figure out why it's the way it was. Was it because he's a pseudo-Lunarian now? Was this the side-effect of being categorized as a Vampire by the forces that govern this world?

He suspected it to be a case of fifty-fifty. He knew that Lunarians were biologically different than the humans of his world but while still having several shreds of similarities. He didn't want to say that the humans of his world were based on those psychotic moon-folks, but then again, the Sage was the offspring of one…

But back to his lack of sleep condition. He had not properly slept for at least several hundred years now. The last time he properly slept was when they were still setting up the colonies that would eventually be the United States. After that one instance of sleeping, he had yet to sleep in the proper sense.

Well, given, that it was a sleep that lasted for a week, but who's measuring?

Now, he spent his time that would normally be allotted to sleeping by meditating and recovering as much – little, really – chakra as he could. He would do this for a long period of time, back in the days. This was due to him unable to properly restore the amount of chakra he had already used prior.

This goes for both his own chakra and Natural Energy. While his body was still able to produce chakra via its organs like the heart, it would only be able to produce so much due to the restrictions this world had imposed upon him.

Gathering Natural Energy was a risky affair, as too much or too little of it would cause an imbalance within his body and thus potentially turning him into a frog statue. This was why he only let clones or Kurama to gather Sage chakra for him.

If he were to quantify his overall and current chakra capacity, it would be like this: 54% Yin chakra, 46% Yang chakra, and an equal amount of Senjutsu Chakra to balance those two primary components.

It's a rough figure to work with, but it's as best as he could come up with. However, when compared to the Jonin level Shinobi of his world, it was still a large amount.

"Uuu… I wanna make a Shadow Clone and make him do all of the housework…"

"Stop whining. You know that making clones will only use up and divide your chakra needlessly."

But still didn't stop his furry friend from preventing him to make a single clone.

"What were you thinking about purchasing a house like this when you couldn't even manage a decrepit old apartment like the one you used to have?" The fox tore into the weeping man mercilessly, "Thank the Sage that Hinata married you, otherwise you would've been living in a pigsty for the latter half of your mortal life."

"Cut it out already," the blonde muttered while lowering his head in defeat, "I bought this house because it's similar to the one she used to live in when she was still with her family, alright? I didn't hear you complaining about it when we talked to the Realtor about it a few decades ago."

"Hmph." The fox grunted permissively. "I could only care less about where you lived as long as it's a decent place with a roof over your head and you promise it wouldn't be a breeding ground of filth and trash."

"This coming from the fox who used to live in a sewer is rich."

"This coming from the man whose mind was said sewer in the first place is even richer."

"...touche."

The once was the savior of his world sighed as he set down the cleaning rag he had used to wipe the wooden floor boards with. He loved his house and he didn't regret buying it one bit, but cleaning it was not something he enjoyed doing.

Sure, it filled his time, but he could've used that same time to meditate and recover his chakra instead. Kurama wouldn't let him use his clones to do chores around the house, but using them to gather Senjutsu Chakra was fine?

"Whew, that should do it."

As much as he disliked doing chores, a clean environment meant a clean life. But above all else, he hated not doing anything. And before anyone give him sass for it, no, meditation did not count as doing anything.

It took a lot of effort to meditate properly; granted he's not balancing himself on the tip of a mountain anymore, but it's a challenge in general to focus and isolate yourself to the disturbance around you, even when you're in a state of complete silence.

But to be honest, meditating all day could be quite boring… which was why he took to nice evening walks every now and then.

"Hyuuga-saaaan! Excuse meeeee!"

"Ah," the face of the former 7th Hokage of the Leaf Village blanched upon recognizing the owner of the voice calling for him outside his door, "it's her."

"You could still make it if you go for the back door."

"No," said the blond with a grim look on his face. "I'd rather face the music now rather than dance the dance later." He sighed, reluctantly accepting his fate. "Help me with this, Kurama."

"Hm. I'll spare enough chakra just for you to use Hiraishin to the outskirts of the town."

"Gee, thanks."

The blond man, clad in a baggy navy kimono – with the left part of the robe hanging loosely from his shoulder and a pair of matching shorts, made his way to the front door of the house. His footsteps were light, quiet, and relaxed as it made their way to greet the early uninvited guest.

Holding in his breath, he dragged the wooden door open, coming face to face with his guest.

"Good morning!"

A youthful face greeted him, one brimming with so much life and promise of so many troublesome incidents in the future. Her eyes reflected his form, creating an image of him drowning in a pool of hazel. The next thing that made her stood out more was the warm and cheery smile that was seemingly ever so present on her face, a sign that he could not but worry for.

His eyes flickered downwards, locking into view with a rectangular-shaped object she was holding in her arms. As he raised his gaze to glaze over her coated form, he considered the helmet around her head and the scarf around her neck.

"Morning to you too, Tiger."

He wouldn't normally antagonize anyone without any warrant. But he was bored, damn it, at least allow him this brief moment of entertainment.

"Don't call me that!"

The Tiger of Fuyuki snapped at the older man with a ferocity befitting her name. She seemed to have remembered that she was currently outside of a person's house, on the streets, with people potentially looking.

Naruto could not resist smiling, crossing his arms as he leaned against the door frame of the building. This only seemed to aggravate the woman further, but perhaps due to her actually being an adult, Taiga managed to hold herself back.

"Ahem," she faux coughed into a gloved fist in an attempt to hide the reddening of her cheeks before saying, "here, Shirou made this for you."

She shoved the wrapped up obento into the man's arms, huffing after she did so. She straddled the seat of her scooter, clasping the safe straps of her helmet all the while giving him a pointed look. It didn't take long for her to actually start pointing a finger at him.

"The next time you call me Tiger again, I'll tell Shirou to put nothing but salad for your side dish, old man!"

"Now, now, Tecchan," the blonde waved off the hostility aimed towards him with an easy going smile, "you know that's not much of a threat considering how good the boy's cooking is?"

"Hmph!" A pout that looked out of place on a grown woman's face managed to show itself on the school teacher's face. "Then I'll tell him to fill it with nothing but air next time, old man!" She gave him one last regard before revving up her scooter, speeding out of the courtyard towards the direction of the school way above the allowed speed limit.

Snickering to himself, Naruto shook his head as he cradled the warm lunchbox that was handed to him by the childish woman. "That girl never really grew up did she?" He asked no one in particular.

He came to know the Fujimura family through a direct source. The patriarch Fujimura Raiga himself. He had known the man for a very long time and it was due to him that he managed to snag the mansion behind him in the first place. It was a long time ago, sometime during the 60s when he first met a young Fujimura Raiga.

An energetic and fiery soul he was, something that remained true to this day. He reconnected with the Yakuza boss several years ago, which was coincidentally also the first time he met Taiga. Things weren't looking too bright that day. Apparently, a close friend of the family had passed. He didn't bother finding more out of respect during that time, but he eventually found out that it was none other than Shirou's foster father who had passed.

After that initial meeting, Taiga was quick to introduce him to the young boy. And what happened after that was history.

"Hm…" The blond hummed in contemplation as he attempted to recall a particular memory, "what was his name again? Kiri-something? Maa." he shrugged his shoulders, causing the fabric of his kimono to nearly slide off his form due to how loosely tied it was.

Perhaps he'd recall it sometime later.

Now, it's time for breakfast.

He made his way back in after closing the gates and locking it. The moment he stepped into the front door, however, he sighed.

"...they're here."

"Yeah, I feel it too." The former Shinobi's tone conveyed dismay. Not only that, but he could also feel the headache that was to come the moment he greeted his uninvited guest – one that actually allowed themselves into his house this time.

Taking in one last breath, the pseudo-Lunarian resigned himself to his current fate.

"Om… nom… nom! Oh God, this is great!"

A pair of mismatched Mystic Eyes watched as the uninvited guest their owner had been so dreading on meeting wolfed down a familiar-looking lunchbox with so much gusto. The one currently inhaling the meal that he was meant to consume did so with such inelegance and disgrace that it was akin to watching a car crash. Mortifying, but not something one could look away from.

"Oh… whew… wow, that was a good meal!" The self-imposed guest clasped their palms together, declaring, "Thank you for the meal!"

"You're welcome," responded the person who was meant to eat the meal in the first place dryly. He watched the now spotless clean obento with not even a single bead of rice left; it's surprising that the chopsticks didn't get eaten.

"Ne, ne, Naruto, do you have any more food?"

His mismatched set of eyes twitched repeatedly as he mustered a crooked smile in response to the question he was given, saying, "why Ojou-sama, it would be my displeasure to say that no, I do not have any more food to feed you with."

"Aww…" with how quickly the deflated look come and convincing the sullenness he was seeing, he was almost tempted to raid his pantry for anything edible to feed the insatiable monster before him.

But, no, he had learned from his mistakes. He had to stand his ground. He remembered the last time he gave her free reign of his pantry; damn nearly made his house her private restaurant. And she couldn't even cook!

"I'm still hungry though…" moaned the person who had just unashamedly consumed the breakfast meal of the man who had just let her – well, not really – into his house. Deflating further into the table, she peeked from her spot on the table attempting to charm him one last time. "Are you sure you don't have…"

"No." The deadpan voice was accompanied by the negation of her Mystic Eyes of Enchantment.

"Ow!" The person recoiled in visible, but ultimately non-lethal, pain. She used both hands to shield her eyes from the blond before her, pressing into them as a way to soothe the pain. "Uuuu… it always hurts when you do that! That's cheating, your eyes are pure hacks!"

She received a snark response for that declaration, "tell me something I don't know." the author allowed himself to smile upon seeing the pout forming on the face of the person before him. "I've said that exact line quite a few times in the past myself, so I'm not surprised to hear it said again."

How could he, when it was true?

People with Dojutsu were already to deal with. Lunarians with Dojutsu, however? Now that's a whole different ball game.

Still glaring at him, albeit non-threateningly, the person sitting on the opposite side of his table did so through the gaps of her fingers. Her face, also framed by blond hair, told him that she was no older than her twenties; late teens, if he was being generous. But he knew better now. Considering that he was one himself, the person in front of him was a lot older than her looks let on. Although he had no intention of confirming that fact with the person herself, he had the knowledge known to him sometime during the past courtesy of their mutual friend.

Dressed a pure white turtleneck shirt with the sleeves slightly stained from her messy eating, she wore a dark navy mini-skirt with a pair of black stockings underneath. He made her leave her boots at the entrance when he saw her tracking mud all over his living room earlier, something she did with minimal complaint. Around her neck was a necklace with a metallic cylindrical pendant, making it the second thing that stood out from her.

The first one was, of course, her ruby red eyes. Unlike most people with red eyes he knew – not including his good ol' partner Kurama – this one didn't scream of murder when they gazed upon him. But she more than made up for it by incessantly trying to Charm him using her innate ability; an action he had successfully repelled so many times before.

"What are you doing here, Arcueid?" asked the Reincarnation of Asura to the White Princess.

Lowering her hands to give the man a proper look at her face, she made sure that he could see how displeased she was at what he just did. She pouted, but she recognized the tone the author was using and she knew better than to play around when he was talking to her in this manner.

"I'm here for a visit." She noticed the way his eyes narrowed and the way those red and purple orbs glimmered with power. Pouting even harder, she crossed her arms underneath her generous assets while giving him her own pointed look. "What, can't I visit a friend of mine after a long time of not seeing him?"

At that, the visitor from another world sighed as he willed for the illusion to conceal his eyes. "No, no. You certainly can…" He trailed off, scratching his five o'clock shadow that he had neglected to maintain, "but that doesn't explain why you're suddenly here in my house, Arc. Don't tell me he's here?"

"Oh, he was." The woman confirmed nonchalantly, tapping her fingers on the surface of the table while her eyes roamed the interior of the building. "He had to leave, though. Something about 'showing that uptight bitch' something." She settled for a shrug of her shoulders. "You know him."

"Yeah… I do." No, he did not, really. He may have lived for quite a while, but their mutual friend they were speaking off had lived for far longer than them.

"Oh, I almost forgot."

Naruto watched as the whimsical True Ancestor before him finagled with the straps of a rucksack she had brought along with her into his house. He had disregarded the baggage she was carrying as he was more concerned with figuring out why she was here in the first place and whether or not that old troll was with her.

He watched her struggle with opening the straps and half expected her to just give up and rip the entire bag open with the strength he knew she possessed. To his mild surprise, she insisted on opening the pack properly and eventually succeeding. She then proceeded to sift through the contents of the pack, and judging from the size of the thing, there was a lot to sift through.

"Where is it… I swear I put it here… I didn't leave it behind did I– oh no, never mind here it is!"

On any other occasion, it would have surprised him. But he was in the presence of Arcueid Brunestud, and it was Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg himself who dumped her here, so he would not count anything – yes, anything – out of the occasion.

"Is… is that a box…?"

"I don't know," The White Princess shrugged her shoulders, expressing unfamiliarity with the object she had produced from her bag, "he told me to give this to you."

It was a box with a locking mechanism, so akin to a chest rather than a take-out container. It bore no significant markings, aside from the fact that it looked old fashioned in design and make – built from wood and wrought iron from the looks of it. It also came with a key, something that Arcueid had placed beside the box itself on the table.

"Kurama… if you don't mind?"

"Hnn… sure." A second passed, followed by a, "it's safe. In fact, I think you might just like what that bloodsucker has in store in there for you."

Deciding that there was no reason to prolong the needless suspense, Naruto went and picked up the box along with the key that came with it.

Arcueid observed the man inserting the key into the keyhole it belonged to, twisting it open and hearing the clicking sound that registered in response to the action. With little effort, he lifted the lid of the container, his eyes being greeted by a sight that made them widen by several margins.

"Oooh… pretty." Arcueid voiced her opinion from where she was sitting, having leaned closer to take a gander at the contents of the package that she had been tasked to deliver.

Naruto was not a man of jewelry. He cared little of shiny rocks that would only look good as decoration on or off a person. Which was why – at least at first glance – he was rather confused about the presence of at least several fistfuls of precious gems, ranging from all the colors of the rainbow filling the container that was meant for him.

"Feel them, Naruto. You'll owe that bloodsucker some more favors, it seems like."

That was when he did as Kurama instructed and nearly dropped the whole entire thing right there and then. He picked up one of the gems inside the box, holding it close to his eyes. He had no eye for trinkets like these, but even he could tell that these were all of excellent quality. Even more so now considering that every single one of them were charged with energy. Energy he could use.

"Dammit Kischur…" murmured the blond man as he gazed into the brilliant, red jewel he was holding, "What do you want me to do now?"

"Hey, Naruto, there's a paper stuck on the underside of the lid." Pointed out the woman with her finger doing the appropriate gesture.

Taking his focus off the jewel, he turned his attention towards the paper Arcueid was referring to. Squinting his eyes, he set down the gem for the piece of paper and what's written on it.

"Now what do we have here..."

The past week had been rather… eventful for Caster.

She had been called upon by the Grail to participate in a battle royale styled tournament to win the ever-elusive Holy Grail. Naturally, the Grail had provided her with all the information required for her to have a sense of awareness of the period in time she had been called into. However, she would lie if she said that she was not at the very least impressed with how far humans had progressed.

Towers of glass and concrete that seemed to reach above and beyond the sky ruled over the landscape, a feat that not even the most prosperous of kingdoms could ever dream to accomplish back when she was still flesh and bones. Metal carriages fueled by oil that rendered the mobility and purpose of horses useless were domineering the roads. And, to her own personal amazement, metallic winged ships took to the skies.

Unfortunately, as is the case with most things, the amazement and wonder wore off when she figured out the 'magic' behind all these impressible feats that mankind had achieved. She was able to understand the blueprint of most of these new inventions she had never seen before courtesy of her Magecraft and undoubtedly create some worthy additions that would enhance their performance.

The workshop her master had set up was located on the busier part of the city they were in, where all the towers of glass and concrete were.

Which meant she was also where at the location where the amount of human souls were most concentrated.

She was not desperate enough to start harvesting energy from human souls, yet. As much as she detest her current master, he was more than capable to supply her with the amount of Mana necessary to keep her tethered to the world. Although, if she were to really carry out her plan, that might change sooner or later.

Later, she decided. It would be foolish to act out her schemes so soon, especially not when he was beginning to lower his guard at her. Atrum Galliasta might be chauvinistic pig of a man, but he was a competent magus. Competent enough to summon her and be selected by the Grail to be her master.

...the sentiment was not true the other way around, however.

From the moment she was summoned, she was quite aware of her master's opinion of her. This coupled by the fact that he was a miserably petty individual made for a rather toxic bond that forced her to assume the persona of an obedient doll.

It would not last long, of course. For she already planned it out. She would let that man be comfortable around her and make him use up the very thing that was stopping her from outright killing him from where he was standing.

She had already succeeded once, all that remained were two more tries.

"Caster, return to me. We have something to discuss."

"Yes, master." It took a little more self-control to not spat out the title she had been forced to acknowledge.

Willing herself to her non-corporeal form, she made her way down the roof of the extravagant high-rise building her master had acquired to serve as their base of operations and doubling as a shared workshop between the both of them. While the facilities were not up to her standards, her master had deemed it more than enough.

She would have said something, but the stubborn fool was so far in his own rectal orifice that he used a Command Spell to make her think otherwise.

No matter. It was in the direction she was going to take either way, he was bound to lose all of his Command Spells.

"Took your time coming here, Medea."

Surrounded by his brides and concubines were her master. It would be unbelievable to hear it, but he wasn't the most unpleasant man she had the displeasure of ever meeting. While certainly charming enough to make himself a spot in the hierarchy of modern day Mages, he was a far from getting a recognition from her.

She reappeared in her physical form before her master, playing the role she had decided for herself immediately. "I've answered your call, master."

"How obedient of you," mocked the man with a tinge of heat in his voice, "anyway, I've called you to discuss about our secondary assignment from our sponsor within the Mage's Association."

"Ah, the one from the Atlas Academy?"

"Yes." It was here where her master's tone took a more serious turn. "As per the contract dictates, we are to find out more about the living anomaly the resides within this backwater town. It would have been an easy endeavor were it not to be done discretely."

The frustration in her master's voice had a therapeutic effect on her. "Were it not for that condition, I would've enlisted the help of the Priest residing in the church on that hill."

"But we were given clear instructions to clue us into exactly what it is we're supposed to find."

"Yes, I am aware," the glare her master sent her way was not hard to miss, "it is why I've instructed you to set up those beacons around the town to better triangulate the location of this anomaly we are supposed to find. I've called you here to talk about that matter specifically."

Ah, so it's like that.

"My result has changed, master."

"Oh?"

"Unlike previously, where I only managed to detect two very powerful signatures within the entirety of the town, just this morning I've managed to count three."

"...and you did not inform me why?"

"I assumed it to be another Servant being summoned, master." This was a fib. Servants could tell when another had been summoned, but she had neglected to inform this fact to her master.

"I see." He bought it, for now. "I shall have a word about this with the priest. Hm… if another Servant has been summoned, then we'll need hasten our progress. I have contacted another master of the war with a proposal of working together, at least at the early stages of the war. What do you think, Medea? Do you think you're capable of keeping up with another Servant?"

She was tempted to take the question as rhetorical, but at this point, she knew her master well enough to know that he was actually expecting her to respond. "I shall do my best, master."

"Hmph. Good. See that you do, and make sure that you don't embarrass me."

Underneath her cloak, Medea's fists clenched the tightest they had been that day.

"Then, by your leave master?" she asked, her tone placating.

A simple wave of dismissal was her response, and that was enough for the Caster class Servant to work with. She disappeared from view and into her astral form. In this incorporeal state, she could not be seen nor perceived by ordinary people.

Even magic sensitive people would have a hard time detecting her with the additional effort she put into concealing her presence, but even with all done and said, it was nothing to what an Assassin class Servant could accomplish.

And speaking of presence, she was serious when she informed her master about the sudden appearance of another powerful presence in the city. It was alarming because not only was it not from a Servant, the way it suddenly appeared was also a cause for concern.

They – both her and her master – had theorized that whoever was it that Atlas had instructed them to observe was among the first initial two presences they had felt the moment they touched down on Fuyuki a month ago.

The first two presences she felt were both roughly located at opposite sides of the city. One was in the same part of town as the both of them – Shinto – while the other one was at the suburban area – Miyama. And now, whoever this third presence was, had appeared somewhere in Miyama. But that's not what worried her. The fact that it's so close to the initial presence living in Miyama was what's worrying her.

Three unknown factors with overwhelming presence were present in a place that was about to be a battlefield between Magi and Servants.

Something was definitely at play, here… and she intended to find out what.

But first, she had to enact her plan regarding her master. There would be no more delays. If she wanted to do it, she had to do it today.

"Yaaah… sorry about calling you here so suddenly, Shirou-bou." A chuckling Naruto smiled sheepishly at the redhead who was currently setting up the kitchen for a session of cooking.

The redhead in question had prepared the ingredients he brought with him. He was, admittedly, surprised when he received a call at his home from the author asking him if he could come over and cook dinner. He saw no problem at all with it, and the man would cover the expense for his household's own dinner too. He rejected it at first, but – as usual – the blond man managed to convince him.

Shirou glanced over the counter where all the prepared ingredients were gathered. This was the most he had ever shopped since the last time they had a feast to celebrate Taiga getting a job as a teacher at their school. But, to be fair, he was going to cook for two households. He dropped off his share of the groceries at his own house, and – thankfully – Sakura was there to start things up for when he returned.

So, basically, he's over at the author's house to cook dinner for him.

For him and his guests?

"Still… are you planning a dinner party or some sort, Hyuuga-sensei?" asked the high school student while pouring cooking oil into a pan and then turning the knob of the stove on.

"It's nothing complicated like that," answered the man cryptically from the living room, having been tasked with setting up the table. He had the table cloth spread out and the rice cooker on warm nearby. He also brought out alcohol, so it made sense that Shirou would come to that conclusion.

"This is a lot of food… enough to at least feed five people, or one and a half Taiga." said Shirou while cooking.

"Ha!" Shirou's comment got a reaction out of the man, who set off laughing when he heard a certain fiery English teacher being mentioned. "That wouldn't be too inaccurate, all things considered."

"So you are having people here after all?"

"No, just one person."

Shirou was confused at first, but a sudden flash of realization descended upon him. "Ah, so it's like that."

"Yup."

The boy shivered, the knowledge of knowing that another person capable of eating like Taiga having an immediate effect on him.

The television was left on with the purpose of filling in the silence, as per usual. Although it's not that late into the night, this part of town tended to be too quiet for Naruto's liking. But that's one of the selling points of having a house in this part of town, he supposed.

"Ah, by the way, Shirou-bou, what did you do with that thing I gave you?" The question was asked so casually that Shirou couldn't help but answer seamlessly.

"I had it tra-" the boy bit down on his own tongue, refraining from unintentionally revealing his practice of Magecraft on the very last second. "-nsfered to my shed where I keep the rest of my collection."

He cursed inside his head. It was the best reason that wasn't exactly a lie he could come up with.

"Oh… you collect things like that for a hobby?" Naruto asked curiously, "didn't know that about you."

"Well… hahaha…" The redhead chuckled sheepishly as he gently placed a piece of breaded pork cutlet on the now hot shallow oil. The sound of food being cooked helped mask his nervousness. "It's just something I picked up for a while. After my foster father passed, he left behind some souvenirs from his travels around the world. So… yeah."

If the blond knew he was bluffing, then he did not show it. Naruto hummed, letting the answer sink in. "If you don't mind me asking, Shirou-bou, what's your father like?"

Shirou turned his head to look at the blond who was now pouring himself a drink from a newly opened Sake bottle. The question was unexpected, but then again, he was the one who brought up his late foster father into the conversation. So, if anything, he only had himself to blame.

While the cutlets were frying, he made sure that the pot filled with curry was stirred properly so that the bottom would not burn to char. While doing this, he replied, "Kiritsugu was a… complicated man even to me." He managed to say without sounding too apprehensive. "He used to travel a lot before he adopted me and been pretty much around the world, kind of like you in that aspect."

The blond made a non-committal grunt as he downed a shot of the fermented rice alcoholic beverage. "He used to travel a lot too? Huh, would've been nice to share some stories with the man."

"He would've been glad to know you, Hyuuga-san."

"Oh?" An eyebrow was raised, along with the pursing of lips. "Why'd you say that?"

"Hmm… if I have to say, it's because of the Menma Gaiden series you write," he went to elaborate further, saying, "you see, although dad didn't look like it, he's pretty fond of heroes like the protagonist in your story. He's ill even when before we moved in, and it's probably the reason why he passed in the first place."

"That's a shame, but it sounds like he's a good man."

Shirou turned the knob, cutting off the gas to the hob heating the pan. He set the cutlets to cool on a rack, letting the excess oil drip down to the paper towels he had placed underneath it. He walked to the sink but not before addressing the comment Naruto made, saying,

"Yes, he was."

The blond man smiled softly, his features slightly flushed due to having drunk several more shots of Sake, "then, I'll make sure to give an offering at his grave, then. Was he buried at the temple's cemetery?"

Surprised, Shirou's eyes went wide for a second before nodding, "yes, he was. And you don't have to…"

"Oh no, I insist." The blond retorted, not letting the younger boy finish his words. "I'm usually a good judge of character. I've heard about your father from an acquaintance of mine, Raiga, actually."

"Eh, you know Raiga-jiisan?"

The redhead's surprise was met by a nod of affirmation. The blonde, pouring himself another dose of alcoholic beverage into his cup. "Yeap, I'm surprised that you know him too."

Both males had differing shades of surprise on their faces. As Shirou walked over to the living room still with the apron over his body carrying a tray filled with as much dish as he could fit. He had finished cooking the tonkatsu and preparing the salad; the Karaage and stir-fry were simple enough that they basically took no time to cook since he used the packaged stuff he got from the supermarket for the former.

"He's Taiga's grandfather," said the boy to the man, the surprise still etched to his face, "and just like you said, dad used to help him with some things when he was still alive. How do you know Raiga-jiisan, Hyuuga-san?"

"Ah, Raiga's an old friend." Briefly summarized the blond, "we go way back, all the way back to the 60's. I was still in Japan during that time and ol' Raiga was much younger and still new to the business." Seeing that the boy was about to say something, Naruto waved his hand lazily, "yes, I know I don't look that old, thank you very much."

Shirou was flustered at having been shot down before being able to say anything. The boy coughed into a fist after setting down the eating utensils, saying, "y-yeah, wasn't planning to… but anyway, since you travel a lot, Hyuuga-san, you must've used your experience as a base for some of the parts in your story, huh?"

"Well, naturally," Naruto shrugged his shoulders as Shirou returned to the kitchen to bring the rest of the dishes he had prepared, "the idea of writing came along at some point during my travels, however, it wouldn't be until recently for me to actually publish anything… but yeah, it wouldn't be wrong to say that most of the things I've written are inspired by the things I've been through."

That got Shirou wondering. What would he have had to go through to be able to interpret them into a story?

The blond was a writer of fiction. While Shirou knew that it would make sense for fictional stories to have a semblance of reality as a foundation, it still made him think just how much of the story of Menma was based upon the author's own experience.

Stories of fantasy were indeed what the blond author had brought upon into the world of literature. It told the stories of warriors blessed with fantastical abilities that had certainly suited the genre it was intended for. 'For young audiences' was what Shirou remembered written on the banner when he saw one of the author's books on the recommended display of a bookstore in the shopping district.

Recalling some of the scenes he had read from the author's books brought him back to his younger days. He was – much to his embarrassment – quite obsessed with another genre of self-fulfilling fantasy; the variety of tokusatsu media that aired on televisions across the country.

It was a part of him that he hoped none of his classmates ever found out about, but regardless, he remembered the memories of his eyes being glued in front of the TV while he childishly attempted to mimic the henshin pose of his favorite Kamen Rider during that time.

"If… you don't mind me asking, is the protagonist of the story based on you?"

When Shirou asked the question, the blond was halfway from reaching the bottle of Japanese spirit. A flash of clarity had seemingly dispelled some of the tipsy haze that was beginning to cloud the man. The rugged and scarred countenance of the man only made his sudden shift more obvious, but all of it flickered away not even a second later.

"Honestly, I don't even know myself." It was hard to miss the way his eyes soften even more so with how he had whispered his answer.

That reply alone was enough for Shirou to tell that he was not getting a proper answer to the question he asked. But that's okay, he did not mind. He was about to voice his apology for, perhaps, having stepped out of line by asking a sentimental question, but he was unable to say a single word when the scent of blood and smoke stung his nose.

So sharp was the scent that Shirou could not resist flinching as it seemed to have overwhelmed the smell of curry being cooked in the background.

"Ah… so one has finally made their move," sighed the man morosely, "and of course she'd have to bring it here over to my house of all places."

Shirou, if he had been quicker and more articulate, would have been able to question the man what he meant by that, but life had a fun way of hindering him by shoving the answer straight to his face.

"Naruto-saaaaan! Come here quick, this lady needs help!"

The smell of blood and smoke was more prevalent now than it had been before. It had entered the house but not before the sound of the door being roughly opened, causing the rattle to be felt even all the way inside the living/dining room hybrid.

"Boy," the easygoing tone that Shirou had grown accustomed to hearing coming from the blond author was still present, but it carried with it enough weight to make him listen, "hope you won't mind doing me another favor."

The sound of footsteps came rushing from the entrance and into halls, they were heavy and hinted of weight being dragged. The additional presence of people within the house made themselves known by the opening of the shoji that separated the room from the hallway.

To Shirou, he saw a blond woman with red eyes supporting another bloodied and battered woman covered in purple clothing and hood on her shoulders. There was urgency on the blond woman's face, while he was confident that the hooded woman was out cold.

To Naruto, all he saw was another source of headache that he would have to deal with. He knew that he was bound to get involved in the ritual one way or another… he just didn't expect it to be this soon. Glancing over the redhead, Naruto recognized the tell-tale signs of someone putting two and two together.

"Wait… what is…" Shirou managed to utter out, confused, and generally at a loss of what he's seeing. "She's hurt. She needs help."

"Indeed." Naruto began, nothing how the boy was willing to forego his initial confusion and focusing on what really mattered at hand. "Boy, prepare me a futon in one of the guest rooms; we'll be laying this… thing there." Then, his gaze shifted to the red-eyed blond who was beginning to set the injured stranger down on the floor, "Arc, get outside and scout the area. With how fast you were running, there's a high chance that you were followed."

Shirou was hesitant to do as he was tasked, wanting to say more, but he convinced himself that all will be revealed later on. So, wordlessly, he rushed out of the room and into the hallway, doing what had been asked to do.

"Eeeeh?" Arcueid shot him a bewildered look, almost accusatory, "but I just got inside! I'm all messy and stuff, you seriously can't think of sending a lady out so late in the night like this, can you?"

"Normally, I'd say yes, but you're no lady."

"So mean!"

Naruto sighed. "Just… do it, Arc. Look, we've prepared a huge meal for you, and it's as if not even more delicious than the one you have this morning."

"Hm… deal!"

Naruto watched with unblinking eyes as his True Ancestor friend skipped happily out of the room and into the hallway. When he heard the sound of his front door being closed, he allowed himself to finally stand. Looking downwards, he stared at the unmoving form of the purple-clad woman that his friend had dragged all the way here to his home. Arcueid's going to owe him an answer, but for now, he had other matters to attend.

"Though not human… I suppose that doesn't make her any less of a person, does it?" The blond said to no one in particular. "Oh well, let's get you patched you up."

Kneeling down, he scooped the injured woman into his arms and began bringing her to where Shirou was at.

"What do you mean Caster's master has been eliminated?"

"…"

"Betrayed by his own Servant, huh? What was the Servant's identity again?"

"…"

"...ah, I see, how unfortunate. Well then, it seemed that I wouldn't be able to accept the offer that Atrum Galliasta offered me prior to his death then."

"…"

"...I'm willing to listen to what you have to say. Let's meet at the church, then? Very well."

Flipping the cover of her phone down, the Irish woman let out a sigh of frustration. The realization of having a potential job – thus payment – being snatched away from her due to the client dying was always irritating, but not as much in this case.

She had just gotten word from her associates that Atrum Galliasta had been employed by Atlas Academy to conduct very particular research in Fuyuki even while the threat of the Heaven's Feel ritual loomed over the horizon.

Seeing as she saw no wrong in capitalizing where another had failed, she managed to contact an insider within the Academy and convince them to give the contract to her. Her superiors over at the Clock Tower wouldn't like it when they learned that one of their Enforcers' had taken a contract on another organization's behalf, but business was a business.

"So, I take it that Caster's still at large?" asked a man in Gaelic, a language that both of them were fluent with.

"There's a very high chance she'd disappear without the presence of a master at the end of the day," the Enforcer shook her head, replying to her companion in the same tongue, "but she is a Caster… so I would not rule out the possibility of her surviving."

"Great," grunted the man as he hefted an object over his shoulder, "so, what do we do now, master?"

"We meet the priest at his church. He has a task for us to do… I think."

If her companion could detect the uncertainty in her voice when she spoke, he did not show it. He, instead, chose to disappear into an incorporeal form, leaving her the only one seemingly present in the hotel room.

"Not to sound like a broken record, master, but you shouldn't trust that priest too much. Something's telling me there's something wrong with him."

Bazett frowned grimly, "I know Father Kotomine, Lancer… but it's appreciated nonetheless."

A/N: Genshin Impact really, really, really has a way of eating up your free time.

By the way: Amber best girl.