Hello my loveable readers! I hope life has been a smooth flow for all of you. Smooth like my brain.

It's been a while. Did you miss me?

And now, a message from my therapist and beta:

"dont forget to like and subscribe 3 (enjoy the story and please be patient with the author hes doing his best 33)"

Enjoy the chapter!


The door opened to spotless white and the smell of disinfectant. Beds, and patients on them, lined the sides. It was bustling, personnel in long white shuffling back and forth. They were like a well-oiled machine; without pause, seamlessly in motion, efficient, and dedicated to their work. When Lappland barged in screaming, they thought nothing of it, merely acknowledging her presence before continuing their work, possibly used to her and other eccentrics' antics. It was convenient that way. The less attention on him, the better, and Lappland just so happened to provide a suitable distraction.

Emiya stepped out from Lappland's shadow, eyes wandering curiously no better than a child's.

"Yo! Silence!" Lappland called out while approaching an owl-like Liberi.

"What?" The glasses-wearing medic responded, clearly annoyed yet maintaining an air of indifference.

"I'll leave him with you for a while, said he needs a check-up or something. He's self-sufficient, so there's no need to keep an eye out after the fact," the Lupo spouted.

"What–who–is this a pet of yours–?" The Liberi tried, yet Lappland was gone before she knew it, leaving her questions unanswered. In the wolf's place was a smaller version: Emiya.

"Would it be possible to conduct a drug test? You know of Ling, yes? I've blacked out two times in a day while drinking her wine," explained the Lupo, arms crossed.

The flabbergasted Liberi could only gasp, pupils widening visibly.

"Come. Sit." It is an order more than a suggestion, Emiya's arm dragged to a chair at a table. Silence's desk, most likely.

For the next few minutes, while the Liberi searched for supplies, Emiya busied himself with gleaming as much information as he could from the notes and papers on the desk.

Medicals. Research. Ifrit? Lab reports. Tests. Rhine–

"Unauthorized action detected. Ptilopsis requests the visitor to cease all immediate activities."

Silver eyes lowered, gazing into peculiar orange and gold.

"What are you doing under the table?" Emiya posed the question, merely a distraction, as steady hands reshuffled items to their original arrangement.

"The visitor does not have sufficient authorization for me to answer," answered yet another white-haired, Operator.

"We've only met. It's natural." A smirk befitting a misbehaving child glistened as steady hands reached back into leather pockets.

Silence soon came back, and both white-haired individuals turned to gaze at the astonished Liberi.

"PTILOPSIS. What are you doing under the table?! Get out from under there immediately!"

A blink met her response before movement showed, a slow shuffle in avoidance of bumping their head.

"Command acknowledged. Ptilopsis will immediately take a more proper position," the Liberi said, crawling out.

With a sigh, Silence massaged her temples. Nearing the desk, she settled the bag in her other hand, pulling out a wipe and a syringe.

Emiya unzipped his jacket, tying it around his waist, and showed his right arm.

Gloved hands wiped around the area directly above his elbow, the same smell from the first entry filling Emiya's nostrils.

Practiced and experienced hands drew blood from his elbow artery, slowly filling the syringe.

A few short minutes passed, and Emiya felt the needle pull out. The puncture was quickly covered with a simple brown band-aid, courtesy of the standby Ptilopsis.

"I'll have the results in a few hours," Dr. Silence explained, the sound of gloves pulled from the base of the wrist. A small thud signaled the disposed of gloves hitting the trash bin walls.

"You'll be living in Lappland's room for a while, yes?"

A nod confirmed it so.

"Perfect. You'll find the results inside your room later tonight."

"I see. Thank you very much, Dr. Silence," Emiya sincerely expressed. His gaze followed the Liberi as she left, his hands refitting the jacket tied around his waist onto his upper body.

The Lupo hopped off the chair, making final adjustments to the jacket to be comfortably worn.

"A good day to you, too, Dr. Ptilopsis."

It was a polite statement given to the remaining Liberi, yet she could not stop the mechanical twitch of her brows in annoyance.

"Evaluation: cheeky brat."


"Let's see... Kitchen rights," Emiya muttered to himself, steady steps leading to who knows where when he suddenly stilled.

He sniffed, his nose twitched, and an involuntary rub tried to clear the scent of fire and steel.

"I feel a great disturbance in the force." No sooner did those words register did a sudden presence overload Emiya's senses.

A white open jacket that reaches the knees, exposed midriff, a red short tube top (search that up), silver eyes with a hue of light magenta, red eastern dragon horns, red arms, and white hair.

"I'm beginning to see a pattern here," Emiya voiced. The humanoid dragon raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. She then kneeled, taking a whiff of Emiya's hair.

"You... you smell like me," the dragon commented.

Emiya took a step back.

"You... you can sense it too, can't you. You can feel it. It should be familiar, for better or worse."

Emiya's gaze darkened briefly. Calm. Deep breaths. "What do you want, Nian?" he asked, his metallic silver gaze locking onto her curious silver gaze.

An amused chuckle from the dragon, followed by the stroke of her right hand on the Lupo's head. "You're adorable, aren't you? My, my, I think you have the potential to capture the hearts of every female Operator. If you star in one of MY movies," she finished with a dangerous glint in her eyes.

Emiya lifted his arm, placing his hand atop Nian's silvery head, before brushing back and forth. She was low enough for him to do so.

"Movies, huh? So it was simple curiosity," he said, "You were busy stuffing yourself, so I doubt you remember my face. But we hold common ground..." They released their hands, Nian stretching back to her full height. "...I'm not too surprised," Emiya finished.

"I suppose not," Nian responded. Taking a few steps past, she stilled as her hand came under her chin. She paused for a moment, and then: "...Say. You wouldn't happen to require a kitchen, would you?" As soon as those words left her lips, Emiya felt a visible chill run down his spine.

"...Why do you ask?" Emiya calmly replied. Good. At least he didn't squeak this time.

"Ah, you were so adorably pondering that question of yours that you barely noticed me," the dragon answered casually.

"So you say... well, are you offering?" Emiya turned, his gaze intently meeting Nian's. A glint and a smile greeted him in return.

"Come… I'll show you to my room." With a gesture, Nian's footsteps echoed as she began to walk off.

"Special privileges, eh? Works fine for me." And Emiya followed.


It wasn't an impressive room, by all accounts, disregarding the full-on kitchen next door. Emiya tried hard to steel his features, but ah, how long had it been since he felt so comfortable? Almost skipping with his tiny legs, he bounded from place to place around the kitchen, inspecting anything and everything. When satisfied with the kitchen condition, a smile graced his lips as he crossed his arms.

"Satisfactory, Nian. I thank you for lending me this. You seem to be a cook yourself. Tell me, what palette piques your interest? I'll repay you here and now for your kindness."

Nian cocked him with a smirk. "Just before, you were quivering in your boots. Where does this confidence come from?" She questioned Emiya with a dangerous glint.

"Naturally, for this is my domain. The only one who can beat me is me," Emiya responded with blinding confidence. He partially glowed for a second.

"Someone so small, saying such big things! Quite 'moe' of you, boy who smells of fire and steel."

"Call me Emiya," the boy quickly corrected. Nian gave Emiya an understanding smile, and that seemed enough for him.

Clapping his hands together, Emiya washed them thoroughly and then took up the nearby white apron. The apron, which belonged to Nian, had decorative letters on the front assembling a scuffed sentence of, "KISS THE GREAT CHEF" with the word chef crossed out in place of a nearby addition, "NIAN." There was also a cute chibi art of Nian on the bottom left.

"Rejoice, Nian. For your wish will come true. If heat is your desire, fire you shall receive." With those ominous words, a glint in his eyes, and a wide spread of his arms, Emiya began his work in earnest.

A few minutes later, a steaming dish was laid before the kitchen table. Nian tilted her head, meeting a proud smile. Her arms, which were acting as cushions, spread out to encapsulate the dish as her left hand drew it near and her right took the handed spoon.

"Thanks," she said to the Lupo, taking in the smell and then the appearance of the dish. It smelled heavenly; spicy. It filled her nostrils with joy, and she let out a breath of bliss.

"Ah… it smells quite good!" She then gave the deep scarlet dish a once over. In a deep pool of red were minced meat and cubes of white, with a sprinkle of scallions on top. "Looks good as well. Let's dig in!" A full spoon of spicy mapo tofu was raised to Nian's open mouth, an 'ohm' resounding as she took a bite.

Emiya awaited with crossed arms and bated breaths. His eyes narrowed as Nian took a bite, and a smirk stretched across his face as Nian then tilted her head back.

"This… This is…!" Her head tilted forward, her eyes taking on a new shine. Nian scouped up another spoonful, and hastily brought it to her mouth. This repeated, her movements increasing with each bite until the dish was left empty.

"Phew!" Nian's right arm reached up to wipe off the sweat forming on her forehead and brows. A satisfied smile framed her face, and while her eyes were slightly droopy as if tired, they still held that shine of excitement.

"That was," Nian started with a labored breath, "Simply fantastic," she finished with a shaky right index in the air. Her eyes suddenly closed and her body went slack. Before her head hit the table, Emiya caught it. Positioning himself behind Nian, he swept her legs under an arm and attempted a princess carry after considering that Nian was sitting upon a stool. It was quite awkward due to Emiya's current physical capabilities, but he managed to move her to the living room within a minute. Settling the sleeping dragonoid onto the couch, Emiya stretched his arms.

"It's been a while. Seems I still got it," Emiya spoke to himself with a satisfied grin.

"What have you got?" An unexpected voice then asked. Not as boisterous as Nian, nor teasing like Ling. It was quiet, almost like a whisper. Emiya stiffened and mechanically shifted his body. The smell of ink swallowed him.


Thanks for reading! Enjoy your day! Or go to sleep right now and stop mindlessly scrolling.

And no, this isn't projection. My name isn't EMIYA after all.

See ya!