Disclaimer: These are works of purely speculative fiction. It is not intended to infringe on any rights by any of the companies and/or individuals involved in the production of any series mentioned here. Fate Grand Order and all the franchises and series associated with it, are owned by Kinoko Nasu, Notes Co., Ltd. and their affiliates. Similarly, Fire Emblem Heroes is owned by Nintendo Co., Ltd. and their affiliates.
I DO NOT OWN THESE FRANCHISES.
Sister Fanfic: Serious Side Reels - A Grand Order of Heroes Side stories
Love.
An emotion that takes on various shapes and forms. It has served as the origin for many cliche tropes, from the timeless 'knight saves the princess' to the contemporary 'boy meets girl' plot. It's an emotion that has been both revered and misunderstood throughout history.
If you were to ask any regular schmuck, they'd likely wax poetic about its mysterious nature. While Hans might agree that the notion of love being 'mysterious' is appealing, at the same time he finds it foolish. After all, love has a way of clouding people's judgment, which inevitably leads to dumb teenagers committing suicide for the sake of love. To someone like Hans, this kind of romance and take on love is cheesy, but he'll admit that it does make for a good tragedy, plus it sells books.
Be that as it may, he usually prefers to avoid love stories, especially when they lack tragedy. The genre has a tendency to attract many a newbie writer who uses too many unnecessary and awkward descriptions, misspells words, lacks the capacity to differentiate between there, their, and they're and god forbid, uses the word "orbs" to describe eyes.
Which is why he was currently sitting in a bar… on Valentine's Day.
On any other day, he could tolerate the nauseating displays of affection by avoiding the places where such lovey-dovey behavior was happening. But on these days, it was impossible to escape the nauseating love-fest.
Valentine's Day was a day when Heroic Spirits, and now Hero Summons, who had never gotten along, suddenly turned besties, those who had lacked the courage to speak their minds were finally mustering up the guts to confess their love, and lastly, all the raijuus are released from their leashes and run wild.
Meanwhile, all the cultured men like himself, much like the poorly misunderstood Grinch and Scrooge of Christmas, rightfully detested the holiday and the notion of 'true love' altogether.
Hans didn't mind being lumped in as a loser, because love is for losers and for the readers. He was perfectly content, sipping his favorite drink and scribbling down notes while reading his book.
He had grown tired of being cooped up in his room, hence his decision to venture out.
The bartender interrupted his musings. "What can I get for you?" Hans was too engrossed in a particular sentence and didn't bother looking up, but being the good multitasker he was, he did offer a reply.
"Give me your strongest whiskey, neat," he said. While he typically preferred a nice, strong cup of coffee, he felt that a special occasion deserved a special drink.
"You got your Identification?"
Hans rolled his eyes but pulled out his wallet and handed the man his ID without making a fuss. Unlike a certain pig-tailed loli goddess, he was responsible enough to carry his papers with him.
The bartender inspected the ID and nodded before giving it back to him, "Very well, coming right up," then reached for a glass. Hans could hear the clink of the glassware and the gentle pour of liquid. Finally, the bartender slid the drink towards Hans with ease.
Hans picked up the glass and savored the aroma of the high-quality liquor, the scent burning his nose hairs in the best possible way. Humming with satisfaction, he took a sip, savoring the smooth, warm burn of the whiskey before setting it back on the counter. He resumed reading the fascinating book in his hand, enjoying his solitude amidst the romantic chaos outside.
The sound of clicking high heels approaching his seat reached Hans's ears, but he did his best to ignore it. That task was made impossible when the disgustingly thick scent of perfume tickled his nose. His nose sniffed to clear his sinuses, but it was for naught due to the source sitting next to him.
"I'll have what the brat's having, but don't you dare skimp on the ice," the woman's coarse voice grated on Hans's ears.
Hans's eye twitched, and he couldn't help but peel his eyes away from his book. The woman had a hairstyle that looked like it came from the early 20th century, complemented by an elegant dress and matching heels. Her lips were a vivid shade of crimson, and her mascara looked moderately smudged.
Ah, he knew that look all too well. It was the look of a washed-up woman, past her prime and desperately seeking love, but repeatedly finding heartbreak. And on Valentine's Day, no less. Hans couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity for the woman.
Still, there was no excuse for being rude to the bartender, even if he seemed to take it in stride.
"Of course. Coming right up," the bartender said.
The man deviated from his previous motions by taking out a large ice cube from the magic freezer under the counter. Then, he took out a sharp blade and began to carve the chunk of ice into a clear sphere. The sound of the ice cube clinking and the liquid substance sounded like it would be therapeutic to a drunkard, or at least, that's what he assumed.
The bartender had finished carving the ice and carefully poured a vintage-looking whiskey into the cup and gave it to the woman. "Thanks," she said, before downing the whole thing in one gulp and placing the glass back down. "Another."
The man didn't even bat an eye at her demands and proceeded to fill her cup again, and again, and again. If Hans didn't know any better, he would have assumed this woman was part Oni.
Hans observed her and noted that if she had been ordering the glass of whiskey by itself, she would have been knocked out cold already. That or her liver was used to the abuse its owner gave it when drinking herself to depression at this time of the year.
"Cheh, how pathetic. Yet another man decided I wasn't good enough for him. Said I was too old and too demanding. Hah!" She chugged the alcohol in one go. Then, she shook her glass which the bartender used as a sign for 'more.'
"Had I been in my prime, I would have never even looked his way. It's he who doesn't know that he is missing out on me." She continued her rant against mankind with the heat of a thousand red dwarf stars. Given by her dramatic sigh and glass cup swirling, mean that they quickly collapsed and turned into a massive black hole of depression.
"Where have all the good men gone?"
Hans, being too lazy to move from his comfortable position, finally addressed the woman sitting next to him. "You know, it's no wonder you're alone on Valentine's Day. You're an insufferable twat."
Manuela's eyes widen, and she turns to face him. "Excuse me?!"
"You heard me. You're rude and obnoxious, and no man in their right mind would want to be with you," Hans retorts, taking another sip of his whiskey.
Manuela scoffs. "You remind me of another old coot from my world who never knew how to talk to a lady properly."
"He sounds like a pleasant fellow." Hans said, a hint of curiosity in his voice.
"Heh. If only you knew. He's too obsessed with creating to care about the fairer sex. And he's surprisingly nosy. Who cares about what is proper or not to wear while I teach? As long as the kiddos absorb the material, it should make no difference!" Hans sighed, realizing that the conversation had derailed into something troublesome.
"Obviously, teenagers are bad enough as it is. Teaching them in those kinds of clothes is just asking for trouble."
Manuela narrowed her eyes at Hans. "You got a problem with my dress, brat? I'll have you know it's top-of-the-line fashionable where I'm from."
"Well, I'll have you know that such attire has been outdated for over 80 years in my world," Hans said as he took another sip of his drink.
The woman's eyes narrowed into slits, "Are you calling me old, blue boy?"
"No. I am merely stating that tempting horny teenagers with risqué attire will only distract them from their studies."
Manuela huffed, but before she could retort, she was interrupted by a peculiar sound. They both stopped their ensuing argument when they noticed a young couple sitting at a nearby table, holding hands and gazing into each other's eyes.
"Look at them, acting all lovey-dovey. Kids these days have no shame," Hans said, shaking his head.
Manuela nodded in agreement. "Back in my day, we had some decency and didn't flaunt our love in public like that."
The two of them continued to reminisce about the good old days while complaining about how the younger generation lacked manners and respect. They even shared a few stories about their past relationships and the struggles they faced.
As the night wore on, they realized they had more in common than they initially thought. They ordered another round of drinks and continued their conversation, even laughing together at times. In the end, they both left the bar feeling a little less lonely on Valentine's Day, having found an unexpected connection with each other.
"Get out."
Hans and Manuela turned to the bartender, annoyance clearly drawn on their faces.
"Didn-t you motH-er ever tell you, to interru*burp* strangers?" Manuela barely managed to slur out the words, whic caused Hans to let out a snort
"Look, I get that you found love on Valentine's day, but it's 2 AM. I need to close up shop so I can go to sleep."
Manuela looked at him funny before looking down at her wrist, which was humorous considering she didn't even own a watch. "Oh right, you look at time. I'm late. I'm late, I'm late!"
Hans let another chuckle release from his lips, "you said the thing."
"Ehem. please pay before you leave."
"Yah, yah, whatever. Just take it and leave us alone." It seems like the word pay sobered her up enough to return a coherent sentence. Somewhat.
Manuela and Hans left the bar and both were drunk, but Hans still had enough sanity to keep himself lucid enough to walk her back to her apartment. Which she was thankful for.
She opened the door and was about to get in her home but stopped as if remembering something.
"Thank-you fo- this Blue. you truly a sweethart." Hans was caught off guard when he felt a soft sensation press on the cheek. Manuela had kissed him.
With that business done, she turned around and wobbled into her apartment, closing the door behind her, leaving a stunned Hans holding a hand to his cheek.
He stood there like an idiot for a few minutes before composing himself and walking home.
The night air enveloped him in an eerie silence, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves. He didn't pay much attention to his surroundings, as his mind was racing at the implications of what just happened.
Such a slip-up was a mistake. He passed by near a dark alley and a hand shot out from the darkness and seized him by the shirt, pulling him into the darkness.
"Guh!"
He felt the rough stone surface of the wall slams against his back. The string, brutish arm had him pinned to the wall like a doll, since he could feel his feet dangling in the air. His eyes took a moment to readjust themselves to the lack of light and as soon as he saw who had assaulted him, his mind instantly sobered up.
In front of him stood a familiar figure, a purple-clad onee-san whose face was shrouded in shadow.
"Hello, Little Hans," she purred, her voice laced with a hint of danger. "Did you miss me?"
0-0-0
Hans's heart pounded with fear seeing Camilla's wicked grin stretched across her face, revealing a mouth full of sharp teeth, but that could just be the alcohol. The cold sweat on his forehead seemed to freeze as she spoke.
"Well, well, well," she said, her deathly sweet voice bouncing off the narrow walls of the alley, "if it isn't Little Hans. It's been a while, hasn't it? Such a shame we haven't run into each other more often. It's almost as if you've been avoiding me."
Hans struggled to remain composed, but the tension in his chest was mounting with every passing second. Camilla's sarcastic tone only added to his distress.
"I'm afraid I'm quite busy these days," he managed to reply, trying to keep his voice steady. "As a writer, my readers are expecting me to lock myself away and continue writing my next book."
Camilla tutted disapprovingly, in a way only an older sister would. "Oh, Hans, don't insult me like that. We both know you're no George R.R. Martin, despite your fondness for inflicting pain on your characters."
"Touché. Well, I will commend you, your skills at roasting have improved and that stung quite a bit. Now, if you don't mind, could you release me? A writer needs his creativity sleep," Hans said, trying to mask his fear. Normally it would be easier to hide his emotions, but after spending hours doing nothing but drinking pure whiskey? It was not something he could control at the moment.
"No can do~ We still have much to discuss. Will you not hear me out? My evaluation of you?" she replied with a sly grin.
"Sure, go ahead. If this whole kabedon scene is all that's needed for you to get your much-needed character development, then go ahead. Evaluate me," Hans responded sarcasm laced with slight trepidation.
"Well, to start us off.. I initially thought you were just a rude boy who didn't know how to respect your elders. I have to admit, I was furiouswith you for a long time. But after seeking advice from my family and gaining more strength, I came to the realization that just killing you would not be enough," she explained, her smile growing more devilish.
"Oh no, I needed to hit you where it hurt. So, I began to dig into your written works, and I have to say, it only confirmed my suspicions… You are quite the mamma's boy," she continued, relishing in Hans' discomfort.
"Heh, is that all you came up with-" Hans started to say, but was quickly interrupted.
"I'm not finished," she said firmly, Hans responded by clicking his teeth shut.
"Yes, you're a momma's boy, and not in a cute way," Camilla said, her voice dripping with disdain. "You're nothing but a pathetic excuse for a man. You use your writing as a mirror to reflect your innermost fears," she continued. "Your biggest one being love. You've been rejected by both men and women, and you use that as fuel for your stories."
From there she continued to lay into him, from being a badly mannered boy who doesn't pick up after himself, to a crybaby who couldn't withstand the criticism of his works when he was alive. As she delved deeper into his life story, her anger slowly dissipated, and it was replaced with satisfaction as she saw him squirm uncomfortably due to his curses hurting him. It might not have been as painful due to Rhajat's medicine helping him with the pain, but then again, it's been a while since he took his meds so he was suffering more.
"And you want to know what conclusion I came to after looking into you? It was that my teasing in our initial meeting was actually true. You truly were just jealous of everyone who received love but gave none to you."
Her words cut through him like a knife, and he could feel his heart racing as he realized that he had been exposed. "Once I came to that realization, my mind was set."
Hans saw Camilla raise her other hand, which was clenched into a fist. Ah, so this is the part where she starts wailing about him. He closed his eyes, wondering when the pain will come. It never came and instead, much to his confusion and surprise, he felt a warm, slender hand pat his head. As soon as he opened his eyes, he saw her smiling at him warmly, "From now on, I'll provide the love you never received."
The determination in her tone of voice showed that she was dead set on teaching him what it meant to have an elder sister who doted on him, whether he wanted it or not. Hans, although weakened to alcohol, could still not help himself and threw a reply barbed with smugness.
"And that's where you're wrong, 'dear sister,'" Hans retorted with a smirk. "I just recently caught the eye of a wonderful, cultured, and totally sane woman. So I'm afraid I'll have to decline your offer."
Camilla's face fell momentarily, but she quickly recovered and flashed him a grin. "Oh my, miracles do happen! Congratulations, little brother." Hans cringed when she called him 'little brother,' but Camilla ignored him, "Such a shame, and after I spent so much time spilling my heart out for you." She sighed, "oh well, back to plan A."
Hans heard the sound of a blade being unsheathed, its sharp edge reflecting the moonlight into his eyes.
"And gut you like a fish~"
Hans, seeing the unescapable predicament he was in, let out a sigh of defeat.
"Fine, fine! I get it! I accept your yandere 'love' ultimatum, just put away the damn blade." As much as he'd rather be killed than accept a cow tit woman's 'love,' he won't do it because he still has a selection of books that he hasn't read yet. And he doesn't know how long it will be until he is summoned by someone from this world, so it was better to just put up with it.
"Good," Camilla said with satisfaction.
She released her grip on Hans, who stumbled and fell onto the grimy pavement. He dusted off his clothes and stood up, rubbing the sore spot where her fingers had dug into his skin.
"So, what exactly does accepting your love entail for crazy people like you?" he asked, his tone laced with skepticism.
"For now? Just this." She reached into her bag and pulled out a beautifully wrapped box of chocolates, shoved it into his bruised chest, hard .
Hans eyed it warily, unsure of what to make of this unexpected gesture. But then he looked up and saw her smiling at him, and he couldn't help but feel dread.
"Happy Valentine's Day, little Hans," she said, her voice infused with a hint of amusement.
With a swift turn on her heel, she strode away, leaving Hans to ponder his thoughts. He grumbled under his breath, feeling a mix of annoyance and gratitude. "What a troublesome woman," he muttered, but a faint warmth spread across his chest, contradicting his words.
Suddenly, an intrusive thought barged in, a thought which his mouth vocalized, "Is this what it feels like to be a harem protagonist?"
Eager to escape the filthy alleyway, Hans resumed his journey home. But as he took a step, a sharp pain shot through his chest. "Ow," he gasped, his warm sensation turning into excruciating agony.
"Never mind, that's a broken rib," he groaned as he walked home, persevering through the pain.
Two fateful encounters were enough for him today.
Author's Note: I know I am a month late for Valentine's day, but it's whatever.
And so, Hans and Camilla meet once more. I had this meeting planned for ages and as the title of the chapter says, it was a meeting Long Overdue.
Thanks for reading, and please, don't be shy and comment. It fuels my depressed soul.