Chapter Six
April 24th, 2027
Tokyo
Shirou Emiya slipped away from Ryouko and her mother with polite excuses before weaving his way through the night like a shadow with a purpose. Tokyo's lights glowed softly in the background as he made his way through the crowded sidewalks and the distinctive smells of various street foods to his first destination: the hotel.
Inside the room, he closed the heavy curtains, shutting out the city's ambient glow and leaving only the muted sounds of traffic which bled into the room to remind him that he was still in the impossibly large city where historically nothing ever went right for him. It was just a city of bad luck for a man who believed himself cursed with bad luck.
Stripping away the vestiges of his ordinary life, he discarded his shirt with a casual flick, letting it fall onto the bed. His well-defined muscles caught the dim light as he moved with the fluid grace of a seasoned warrior.
He unfastened his belt, the metallic clink breaking the silence of the room. Jeans followed, pooling at his feet as he smoothly stepped out of them. Even in the private confines of the hotel room, every movement seemed deliberate, a choreography of precision.
Bending down, he neatly arranged his discarded clothes on the bed, a testament to the disciplined habits he ingrained in himself since his youth.
With the room now tidy, Shirou initiated a series of stretches to prepare for the battle to come. His muscular arms reached toward the ceiling, his back arched like the curve of a taut bow. As he moved through the routine, his thoughts lingered not on the impending challenges the night surely had in store for him, but on a much greater challenge that lay beyond the inevitable battles to come: how he would explain this to Kurumi.
As Shirou unpacked his suitcase, he carefully laid out his sleek black body armor onto the bed, each piece emitting a subtle but heavy thud as it settled. These armor components, meticulously crafted from state-of-the-art materials, echoed softly in the room as he methodically dressed himself. The form-fitting chest piece hugged his torso snugly, while the loose-fitting pants seamlessly integrated with his armored boots, all tailored specifically for him by a trusted friend and ally. This custom ensemble provided both the flexibility he needed to fight with his preferred style and the necessary protection for combat. The muted sheen of the armor juxtaposed with the determined expression on Shirou's face, symbolizing the weight of ideals not his own which he willingly carried.
Running his hand through his ghostly white hair, he pushed it back with a mixture of determination and weariness. The lines etched on his face told tales of battles fought and sacrifices made, a silent testament to the path of justice he had chosen.
"Here we go," he muttered to himself, the weight of responsibility settling on his shoulders.
A brief reflection in the mirror served as a stark reminder that he stood at a pivotal juncture in his existence, where his identity intertwined with that of a particular Counter Guardian. The imminent arrival of a distinctive red cloth would solidify this fusion, yet its source, timing, and circumstances remained shrouded in mystery.
Despite the profound divergence in the paths taken by Shirou and Archer, Shirou found it imperative to remain vigilant of the lurking perils in his own journey. The specter of Archer's fate loomed ominously, a future his children relied on him to circumvent. Long ago, he had made a solemn vow to his departed wife that he would be present for their children as they navigated life's milestones – to witness their weddings, to proudly escort them down the aisle, and to cherish moments with their own grandchildren. With Rin's absence intensifying the gravity of his responsibilities, fulfilling this pledge became more important than ever.
He refocused on the matter at hand; his mind danced with the anticipated trouble to come. But it was nothing, he concluded. Just a regular evening out for a hero of justice. Mages, monsters, criminals—these were things he knew how to deal with, and he was very good at it. The only thing in the world that truly terrified Shirou Emiya to the core of his Unlimited Blade Works was his elder daughter, Kurumi.
In his mind, he had been rehearsing explanations for why his trip to Tokyo, which started as a simple favor to his friend to help her mother move into a new apartment, ended up getting him involved in a life-or-death struggle to protect someone he didn't even know and would take a few extra days. But he was acutely aware that no matter how well-constructed they were, they wouldn't shield him from his teenage daughter's inevitable anger.
"Nope. No matter how I slice it, Kurumi is never going to let me hear the end of this," Shirou murmured, his voice carrying the weight of both resignation and determination. No matter how many times in her life he's had to suddenly drop everything to rush to the aid of strangers, his daughter was unable or unwilling to accept that he was a man who had to keep to the ideals he believed in.
Reiroukan Residence
Misaya reclined on the plush and luxurious couch in her living room, the warm glow of lamplight casting a soft ambiance around her. Her two canine companions, Natsu and Deku, sprawled beside her. Natsu rested his head in her lap, while Deku lay on his back, legs splayed out, in a manner that she found irresistibly adorable. She wanted to give him a belly rub but he was far out of her reach. The TV droned on, a mere background noise to her thoughts.
With a gentle chuckle, she caressed Natsu's fur, coaxing him to lift his head. Her phone chimed with a notification, and she unlocked it with a fingerprint, eager to check the status of her impending delivery. A bright smile adorned her face as she confirmed, "Our dinner's almost here!"
Setting her phone down, she patted Natsu and stood up, prompting both dogs to follow her towards the front door. The anticipation of a delicious meal filled the air.
Upon opening the door, however, an unexpected intrusion shattered the tranquility. A swift arm thrust through, forcing the door open. Before Misaya could comprehend the situation, she found herself hoisted into a blur of motion, hurtling towards the open entrance to her basement workshop. The events unfolded so rapidly that she couldn't muster a reaction before being unceremoniously thrown inside.
As she tumbled down the stairs, her senses reeled. The concerned whines of her dogs and the moist licks on her face were the first things she registered. The next, a cacophony of gunfire and screams, echoing from above. The harsh sounds seemed to pierce through her consciousness, overwhelming her senses. Darkness crept at the edges of her vision, and with a final shudder, she succumbed to unconsciousness.
Misaya woke to her dogs licking her face, she waved them off with her hands and slowly sat up. She looked around and the next thing she spotted was the assassin she had captured, still tied up in his chair and looking down at her mockingly while unable to speak due to the tape over his mouth, but the muffled laughter was all she needed to hear to know what was on his mind.
"What happened?"
Then it all came back to her.
"That bastard!" she yelled while standing up.
She then started running up the stairs from her workshop to the ground floor, but the door to her living room wouldn't open for her.
"Damn it! Stupid door is —" she yelled while reinforcing her body with magical energy, strengthening herself for the task of liberating herself from her confinement, and then forced the heavy security door off its hinges, "DAMN IT!"
She looked around the living room and saw a tanned man with white hair wearing black body armor. He was seated on her couch with his arms spread over the back cushions with one leg crossed over the other, resting entirely too comfortably. All around, her furniture was cut up, the floor was bloody and littered with shell casings, the walls were littered with bullet holes and blood splatter. But strangely, despite all the carnage, there were no bodies. Since she didn't know how long she had been out of it, she couldn't figure out if he had gotten rid of the bodies, or if he somehow fought off the attackers without killing them.
"MY HOUSE! MY HOUSE IS RUINED!" she exclaimed while holding her head and falling down to her knees. "Why… why did it… Grr! What's done is done I guess!"
Her two dogs came and sat down on either side of her, letting out sympathetic whines as they affectionately nuzzled their snouts against her.
"Alright... I'm assuming that since I'm still breathing, you're on my side," she remarked, eyeing the man lounging in her living room as if he owned the place. "Who are you?!"
Shirou allowed himself a smirk, finding the situation oddly familiar. With his eyes shut, her voice and mannerisms seemed to echo with haunting resemblance to that of his late wife. He marveled at the unexpected amusement this mission promised. Opening one eye, he regarded the teenager standing before him, her irritation palpable. Clad in a red dress with long sleeves and a short skirt, her stance exuded Rin's trademark arrogance and pride, sprinkled with her own unique audacity and charm that set her apart.
Still, this had the potential to be very entertaining. With a casual air, he turned his attention to her. "That's the first thing you say to me? Well, well, well. Looks like I was hired by quite the adept little mage."
Misaya stood up and started stepping over the blood pools and bullet casings with bare feet. "Just to be perfectly clear, whoever you are, you're here to work for me, correct?"
"And am I to presume that you are my employer?" he asked in return.
"Yes. We should make things clear between us right off the bat."
"Of course, I completely agree with that," Shirou said before he crossed his arms over his chest with an amused smirk on his face. "But where is the evidence that you are my employer and not some imposter?"
"What kind of question is that?! We should address the fact that the first thing you did was throw me into my basement the moment you stepped into my house!"
"Oh? Would you rather I'd have let you deal with those men all by yourself?"
Misaya crossed her own arms and huffed in annoyance while turning her head away from the man, "My dogs would have helped me! You're just lucky they followed me instead of attacking you or you'd be a stain on the floor too!"
Shirou sighed. "Oh dear, you really mean that, don't you, little miss?"
"Don't underestimate Deku and Natsu! I've been training them every day since they were little puppies! They can handle anything!" she put her hands on her hips and turned to her canine companions with pride, "Isn't that right, boys?"
"Woof!" replied the dogs.
"Deku, and Natsu?" asked Shirou with a raised eyebrow.
Misaya turned back to the man in black and glared at him. "Got something to say about my boys?"
"A great many things…"
The raven-haired magus reached into her pocket and pulled out two meaty treats that she fed to her dogs. "The best part is, they work for doggie treats."
Shirou glared at the teenager with a stern expression. "Well, I don't work for doggie treats."
"What are you? A cat person?"
"Yes," he said flatly.
"Too bad. I don't have any catnip. So… I presume hard currency would be your preferred payment?"
"That depends on what I'm being hired for. Protecting you from those men was a freebie, I couldn't just do nothing while they murdered you."
Misaya shrugged, "What if they had a good reason to murder me? I could be a very bad person."
"I'll be the judge of that. Why don't you just start at the beginning?"
Misaya looked around again, "Could we take this upstairs to the home office? This living room isn't exactly fit for hospitality right now."
Shirou gave a curt nod as he stood up.
Shirou held his arms behind his back as he glanced around the home office. His eyes fell on a picture of his younger red-haired self standing beside the girl's father at the Clock Tower. His eyes wandered and found a picture of Reiroukan with Rin and Kurumi as well. He couldn't help but wonder how a man he once considered a good friend turned out the way he eventually did. The two of them partook in their first beers together, among other rites of passage typically celebrated by boys transitioning into men. Shirou couldn't help but lament that he was more often than not a poor judge of character.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The smell of tea combined with the smell of leather from the furniture and the musk of old paper in this particular room felt like it was triggering a memory that wasn't his own.
He warned himself to be mindful of whatever came to mind from the memories he gained from Archer. Just because he'd been here before in another life didn't mean he would be a step ahead of whatever was coming. More often than not, he always seemed to be three steps behind.
"See something interesting?" asked Misaya while bringing refreshments into the room.
"There's always something interesting to see if you're paying attention," replied Shirou.
"So what's your name?"
He turned around and stared into the teenage girl's crimson eyes, "Shirou Emiya."
Misaya paused while holding a cup of tea which she was about to set down on the table. "Emiya?"
"I take it that reaction means your father may have mentioned me?"
She set the tea cup down and then leaned back until she fell onto a leather sofa, she then gestured to the sofa across the coffee table for the man to have a seat.
"Yes. My father mentioned you once or twice. Said you used to be friends and then you stopped getting along. He never elaborated, and I didn't care to push for details."
"My squabbles with your father aren't important," he said while taking a seat across from the teen. "What is important is why those people want you dead."
"Before I go into that. I'd like to ask about the price for your service? Before I reveal any sensitive information, I need assurances of your loyalty."
"My price will be determined by what exactly the trouble is, and how we can best go about getting you out of it."
"Then how do I know I can trust you?" asked Misaya while leveling a hard stare on the man.
"I saved your life, didn't I?"
"Yes, but I don't know why. What's your stake in all of this? One minute I'm getting a call from a strange man at the Clock Tower who told me about someone who could help me with my problems, and now here you are. What's the motive for helping me? None of you people owe me a damn thing, and I know very well what kind of asshole my father was and how many enemies he had."
"That's fair. I'll be blunt with you. Your father betrayed us and hurt people I care about. He did that because he gave into a temptation despite knowing full well that what he wanted was impossible to get. He threw in his lot with the wrong people. We spared him because he used to be our friend, and I suppose I always hoped he would be again."
"What does any of that have to do with me?"
"Absolutely nothing. Which is why I am here. Your father's sins are not yours to bear. You shouldn't have to suffer for his mistakes."
Misaya chuckled and leaned back on her sofa, "So you do know a little bit about what's going on here?"
"Not enough to draw any conclusions."
The teenager slowly nodded her head, "Well. I've nothing to lose. So why not tell you? It's simple really, my father put a curse on me. If I don't complete the task he set out for me in three days, it will kill me. That's it."
Shirou closed his eyes and took a long moment to digest that.
"Takeuchi does not want this ritual to be completed because if it actually takes place against his will, it will undermine his authority and make him look weak in front of the other families. He's already very old, he passed on most of his magic crest to his son, so he's in the twilight of his power."
"I know he runs his affairs like he's running a mafia. But let's focus on the important details. Why did your father curse you? What is this ritual, exactly?" asked Shirou.
Misaya took a deep breath while calculating what she should or should not reveal. In the end, she came to the same conclusion as before; there was nothing to lose.
"What do you know about Spatial Quakes, Emiya-san?"
Shirou raised his eyebrow. "My wife studied them extensively. She said she was on the verge of discovering the true cause, but she died in the process, and whatever she learned, she took with her."
"My father believed they're caused by the intersection of our world and another neighboring world."
"Neighboring world?"
"Don't ask me, my father was insane. He believed the other side was some sort of utopia for mages. The ritual he designed is meant to reach into that world and bring something back from it to prove his theory. It's just an overly complicated summoning ritual that has to be enacted at a certain time and place I've prepared at the intersection of two powerful ley lines. I have to enact it in three days. If the ritual is not complete by midnight on that day, I die. The problem is Takeuchi found out about my preparations and forbade me from practicing magecraft in the city… meaning I've been exiled."
"And of course, you're not in a position to comply, and now they want to eliminate you."
"You understand everything," she said with a gesture of her hand while sitting back on her couch.
Shirou slowly leaned forward and put his chin on his hands while thinking carefully about the situation. "What's the danger to the city if this works? Could it trigger a quake?"
"I don't know. I just hope the curse isn't also conditioned on this whole thing working because I don't think it even will. Reaching into other worlds is a bit beyond the scope of our usual magecraft."
"What about the curse? How did he put it on you?"
"It was a self-geis scroll he forced me to sign… I didn't have a choice in the matter."
"Bastard… Do you know where the scroll is now?"
Misaya shook her head, "No. I've looked for it but it isn't in the house."
"Of course, he knew I could come along one day and undo it… So naturally he'd hide it away."
Misaya glared at the man incredulously, "You could undo a self-geis scroll? How?!"
"I have my ways. But they won't work without the scroll. He knew that… So the way I see it, we have to prepare for your ritual and try to find this scroll. If we find the scroll, you won't have to go through with this and take the risks. If we can't, then we'll have to take the chance. And we have seventy-two hours or so with which to accomplish these things."
The teen nodded her agreement before lifting up her teacup for a sip. "Now all we have to settle is your price. How much do you want? And… I hate to sound cheap, but I'm not exactly a kid with means. My father squandered a lot of our wealth on his project."
"Five million dollars," he said seriously.
Misaya took a deep breath and then slowly exhaled, "I thought it would be more… But that's still pretty steep. May I know why your price is so high? I'd like to know what my five million is buying me."
Shirou nodded, "Think of it as covering my business expenses. If this gets messy, it'll be costly to keep under wraps. Especially in a city like Tokyo."
Misaya slowly nodded her head, "I don't have that on hand, but I can come up with it, if I live to that is. We have a contract."
After settling all the details of their contract and establishing a plan for their next day's activities, Shirou was climbing down the stairs on his way out of the house.
"Is there anything you need before I go?" asked Shirou while pausing at the bottom of the stairs looking up curiously at the teenager who was watching him leave.
"Yes, actually. I need to give you your first job," answered Misaya.
Shirou closed his eyes and smiled with satisfaction. "Straight to business? My employer is belligerent. Who is my enemy?"
Shirou heard a strange sound and opened his eyes widely, he caught a mop by the handle in one hand, and a plastic water bucket in the other.
"Clean the living room. You dismembered all those thugs, so I expect you to make it spotless again."
Shirou glared at her with incredulity, "Now just one moment. What the hell do you think I am?"
"Someone who's being paid millions of dollars? For that price, I expect canine devotion."
Shirou closed his eyes and huffed with annoyance while turning his head up and away from her. "I will do as you wish, and you can go to hell, boss."
Misaya chuckled on her way to the bedroom. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Shirou sighed on his way back down the stairs with the mop and bucket to get started.
"Hey! There's also one more in the basement, but he's alive. He's there because he tried to kill me a couple days ago. Could you get rid of him too?" yelled Misaya down the stairs.
"Yes, boss!" yelled Shirou in response. "What should I do with him?" he called back while walking.
"I really don't care. Do whatever you want. Good night!"
Fuyuki
Miku cast a nervous glance around as they ventured into one of the town's oldest quarters. The antiquity of the place wasn't what unnerved her or the three other girls by her side. Instead, it was the groups of men in dark clothing stationed at street corners that sent shivers down their spines. Perched on the hoods of sleek cars, they smoked and observed, their presence foreboding. Even sheltered girls like Miku, Ai, Mai, and Mii all recognized the signs when they were in their faces.
An audible gulp escaped Miku, "Umm… I don't know how to ask this question politely but… Umm… is this a gangster slum or something?"
Kurumi chuckled softly, "Oh, don't mind them. They all work for my grandfather. That's part of why I told you that you'd be safe to hang out with us. No photographers or gossip reporters would dare stalk you around here. Those poor guys just sit there hoping for someone stupid enough to come along and act shady."
Haruto nodded, "So if anyone did come around trying to stalk you, the Fujimura people would send you a fruit basket or something with their gratitude for giving them something to do."
Miku, face in her palm, muttered, "You didn't mention you were a Yakuza heiress… I can already see the headlines..."
Kurumi laughed, "No. I'm not. It's a complicated family situation we have. But for the sake of simplicity. My aunt is a surrogate big sister to my father. She took care of him after his father passed away. And Raiga Fujimura is the grandfather of my aunt. But I'm actually closer with him than she is. So I call him my grandfather. He's so much fun. I wish I could have known him in his prime. I spoil him rotten by making him all his favorite snacks every week,
"In exchange, he drags me out to Sumo matches, and they're so dull… But he also taught me how to ride his favorite motorcycle just so he can sit in the sidecar and enjoy the ride. Nobody else in his life would ever do that for him. They think just because he's old he's frail, but he can still kick ass if he needs to. Kihihi, he never treats me like a delicate girl either, which is part of why I adore him so much."
"And the Yakuza just let a teenage girl drive their boss away on a motorcycle every time he feels like it?"
"Nobody says no to Onee-sama, they're more scared of her than they are of Sofu-sama," muttered Kotori.
"Whoa… Emiya. I think I just learned more about you in the last five minutes than I've learned about you in the last five years!" exclaimed Ai.
"Heh. You know, I can't even remember the last time you three have all been over to my house," remarked Kurumi while stepping up to the gate with her key.
Ai's response came softly, her tone carrying the weight of the unspoken truth. "It's been three years," she replied, leaving the memory of her mother's funeral hanging in the air, unsaid yet palpable.
Kurumi turned the key in the lock and pushed the gate open with a creak. "Then I've been a terrible friend to you all. I promise I'll make an effort to change that."
Ai stepped up and put a hand on Kurumi's shoulder, "You're not a terrible friend, Emiya. I'm just glad we can all hang out and start getting closer again."
Origami felt a pang of sadness upon hearing Ai Yamabuki's statement. Back at the tournament she had presumed Yamabuki's ulterior motive for attending the event was an effort to try and get closer to Haruto Matou, but in reality, Ai, Mai, and Mii had only wanted to try and get closer to Kurumi again. She rendered a silent apology for misjudging the blonde girl.
Kurumi gave a small nod before stepping past the threshold of the gate, "Welcome to our home."
As they stepped into the Emiya family home, Miku's eyes widened in wonder. Haruto closed the gate behind them, enveloping the group in the embrace of the ancient compound. Kurumi slid open the front door, and a warm glow filled the entry hall as she switched on the lights. Taking off her shoes at the entrance, Kurumi led the way, and the others followed suit until they gathered in the living room.
"Make yourselves comfortable, everyone," Kurumi invited.
"This house is amazing. It's like stepping into the distant past," Miku exclaimed. "Oh wow! Tatami mats! I haven't seen tatami floors for so long! Everything's so retro!"
Kurumi smiled, pleased with Miku's enthusiasm. "This house is considered a historical treasure of this city. It was a Samurai compound built before the Meiji era, before Westernization and industrialization, though it's obviously been modernized and freshened up a bit since it was built. We have electricity, running water, and even the internet."
"Yeah, it's like you're stepping into the Edo period, but with all the modern amenities," Ai remarked. "Our house is a modern one in New City, but I could get into this if I lived here."
Haruto chuckled while distributing pillows for everyone to sit around the low table. "When we were little, Suima-san and I would play in the yard. She'd be the evil lord of this castle, and I'd be the hero trying to defeat her."
"Did you ever win?" asked Ai with an amused grin.
Kurumi grinned maliciously while holding up her trophy, "Do I seem like someone who's ever been defeated?" she said before setting the trophy down on a shelf.
"We were such annoying chunnis when we were kids. Everyone made so much fun of us," said a wistful Haruto.
"You're still annoying chunnis…" muttered Origami while walking past him towards the kitchen. "Those two still play that game he described."
"You don't stop playing because you get old, Tobiichi. You get old because you stop playing," remarked Haruto. "Am I right, Suima-sam?"
"Absolutely," answered Kurumi.
"Why do you call her 'Suima-san'?" asked Miku to Haruto.
"Because she's always sleepy. She stays up late playing games and never gets enough sleep. I think you know that, she mentioned it at the tournament," answered Haruto. "We also have a teacher I call 'Suima-sensei' but she's got a legitimate excuse in that she has narcolepsy. Kurumi is just a slob."
Miku laughed at the explanation offered by Haruto while getting comfortable at the table.
"Alright, may I have everyone's attention, please?" announced Kurumi, standing at the head of the table. "I'd like to thank you all for coming tonight. I know this was a seemingly ridiculous whim of mine, and I'm very grateful for your support. In celebration, I'd like to announce that tonight's banquet in the Emiya household will consist of the finest pizza in the city because I'm just too tired to cook tonight, and I think we've all earned a slight indulgence. Wouldn't you say? It's my treat."
Kotori's eyes widened, and she eagerly retrieved her phone, "Oooh, we haven't had pizza in ages! I'll make the order. What shall we get?"
Miku blinked, her expression confused, "Pizza?"
The entire room stopped whatever they were doing to look at her.
"You've had pizza before… Haven't you?" asked Mai.
Miku shook her head, "No... I haven't. My parents didn't allow any 'junk food' and I'm not allowed to eat any now because of my contract."
Kurumi raised an eyebrow at Miku, "Are you even human?" she then turned to her sister, "Kotori, get a margarita and pepperoni for her to sample from, I think those are good for pizza newbies, right? For me, I want a thin-crust vegetarian with extra mushrooms, she can sample from that one too. Everyone give your orders to Kotori, and if anyone asks for pineapple and ruins Miku's first pizza experience, I will destroy you."
Haruto took a sip of his soft drink while gazing out across the yard from his seat on the edge of the engawa. From inside the house he could hear the sound of girls laughing hysterically as they shared amusing stories. He looked up at the partially cloudy sky and then back to the yard where he had his fondest childhood memories.
He looked back up at the sky and chuckled at a memory of a time when he sat here with Shirou Emiya listening to an amusing story of some adventure the man had. His mind then took him back further to another time when he, Len, and Kurumi would play out in this garden, pretending to be good and evil sorcerers before her mother would call them both into the workshop across the yard to teach them about real-life magecraft. If he focused hard enough, he could even recall a blurry image of his mother sitting where he was now to watch him play with Kurumi.
"A yen for your thoughts?" Ai Yamabuki's voice broke through, and she settled down beside him.
He met her gaze. "Is that all they're worth?"
"It's just an expression, not an actual bid."
"Heh. Yeah. I know," he replied, a faint amusement in his tone.
"So really, what's on your mind? Does it bother you being the only man here tonight?"
The boy shook his head, "I can be one of the girls when I need to, but I just wanted a little air."
"I didn't think I'd get a moment alone with you; when I saw you step out, it was a relief."
"Is there something on your mind?" he asked, turning to face her.
"I think you know what's on my mind. You still haven't given me an answer. Most girls give up after they've confessed to a guy once; I've done it twice. How much longer are you gonna leave me hanging here? If you don't like me that way, I wish you'd just tell me. I can handle it."
Haruto let out a small chuckle of amusement after hearing her words. He vividly recalled discussing this matter with Kurumi the other night. He recalled her saying that someone like Ai Yamabuki wanting to date someone like Haurto Matou was news that should have come with balloons.
Though he never would have openly said it to Kurumi when she asked, or anyone for that matter, he really did think Ai was the most beautiful girl in their school. Ai Yamabuki was a radiant beauty with her golden hair and matching golden eyes. But what most drew him to her was that Ai had a sort of relaxed demeanor that made her approachable. But she also had her gruff moments where she could sternly tell people off, something she probably picked up from hanging out with Kurumi and was probably another reason she was so attractive to him. He liked strong girls, but he couldn't know if she had the kind of strength she would need to be by his side.
"I'm surprised you haven't given up yet," he finally answered.
"I can be just as stubborn as Emiya sometimes. She never gives up on anything she sets her mind to; neither do I. But I gotta know what the problem is."
As he spoke, Haruto absentmindedly traced the condensation on his soft drink with his fingertips, his gaze flickering between Ai's eyes and the droplets forming on the cold surface.
"It isn't that I don't like you, Yamabuki. Because I do. It's just that I can't figure out if I should let anyone else into my life. Especially someone who has no idea what she's getting into."
"What do you mean? Don't I get a say in what I get myself into?"
"You do. But I don't want you to go into this blindly. There are things in my life I can't explain, no matter how badly I might want to. Things in my life I don't want to drag anyone into, that I don't know if I could protect you from. If you got too close to me, and got even the smallest peek at what's behind the curtain, I don't know how you'd react."
Haruto turned to Ai, his fingers pausing on the cold drink. He gently brushed a strand of her hair away from her face, his touch careful and hesitant.
"I'm not trying to say that I think you're weak or anything like that. I know that isn't true. I'm just trying to give you as much honesty as I can because I respect you, and I think you deserve as much of an explanation as I can give you right now."
Ai's golden eyes met his, and Haruto continued to trace patterns on the soft drink's surface. When he set his hand down on the ground beside him, the blonde girl gently set her hand down next to his where her fingers could gently brush against his.
The touch of their fingers sent jolts of excitement through her body. She had to fight hard to contain her excitement at the prospect of him finally showing her a sign that her feelings for him were reciprocated. It was an excellent start and motivated her to press onward with her talk to try and get through his emotional walls.
"It just sounds to me like you're afraid of getting close to someone because you're afraid of them getting mixed up in your family drama. It also sounds like whatever goes on in your house, it's not a good environment, and it makes you afraid of opening yourself up to someone."
Haruto slowly nodded, his hand finding its way to rest on hers. "That's more or less correct."
Their hands entwined, he elaborated, "If you don't give people a chance, how can they ever earn your confidence? I'm sure you trust Emiya with your secrets, don't you? How'd she earn it?"
She was so excited that her pulse elevated. Holding hands with the boy she liked was a big step forward that further solidified her resolve. All she had to do was prove to him that she could handle whatever it was in his life that he was trying to keep her out of and she knew he would give in and accept her feelings. She silently reminded herself to stay focused and complete her mission.
"She never really had to," he answered, his thumb gently caressing Ai's hand. "My mom and her dad were very close friends. Growing up, I spent more time in this house than I did at mine, especially after my mom passed away. These people are more of a family to me than my own."
Ai took a deep breath, her other hand resting on her chest. Her excitement about breaking through some of his barriers was tempered by the realization that his emotional walls were put in place to protect himself as well as others from the abyss of heartache and pain which lay beyond them. After a moment of silence, she spoke in a soft voice, "May I ask how she died?"
Haruto leaned back and kept his gaze on her face. "She got sick, and then died. That's what I was told by Kurumi's mother. Her father never talks about her; I guess it's just too painful for him. I get all my stories about her from Fujimura-sensei."
Their hands remained entwined as Ai processed the information, the touch offering a silent reassurance. She emboldened herself to squeeze his hand and show him how badly she wanted to understand him, and prove that she could, and would be supportive of him no matter what.
"You weren't there when it happened?" she asked.
"No," he answered with a sigh. "I was five years old and locked up in my grandfather's house by my uncle, I wasn't allowed out for a long time back then."
"I guess maybe they were trying to shelter you from what happened?"
Haruto shook his head, his fingers gently tracing circles on Ai's palm. "Yes. That's exactly what they were doing."
"You mentioned your uncle, but what about your father?"
Haruto chuckled, "Don't know. He was never in the picture. From what I know, my mom never actually told anyone who my father was."
Ai looked at him with sad eyes, about to respond when she yelped, pulling her legs up into the house. "What the hell was that?"
"You alright?" he asked with concern.
"Yeah, it just felt like something crawled on my foot."
Haruto sat up, leaning down to have a look. "It's a beetle."
"Eew!"
"Do bugs gross you out?" he asked, afraid of the answer because of how much it would clue him into how much of the truth of himself she could really handle.
"Yeah, I really hate bugs. Especially cicadas; they're so annoying and loud. But I'm scared to death of things like hornets and spiders!" she said before shivering in an exaggerated manner. "Ugh. They're so scary!"
"Yes, they are," he replied with a sigh.
He gently squeezed her hand, contemplating the secrets he couldn't share, the grotesque realities concealed behind the normal schoolboy facade he knew the beautiful girl was attracted to. But could she ever feel the same way for the magus? Could she ever possibly accept the true realities of his life and accept the complications which could come with someday being the wife of a mage?
Rushing to thoughts of marriage might have seemed hasty for ordinary people, but he refused to waste her time and feelings if the potential wasn't there. His thoughts momentarily drifted to Kurumi and her relationship with Origami. They had the kind of relationship most people could only wish for, one which was open and honest, without any secrets between them whatsoever. Kurumi had even initiated Origami into the world of magecraft because she was so sure of her feelings and commitment toward her lover. Could he have that with Ai? He couldn't know for certain until he tried, but the horrific nature of the Matou family's magecraft made that very difficult. His craft just lacked the refined elegance of the Tohsaka arts practiced by Kurumi, or the mesmerizing beauty of Kotori's developing fire-based thaumaturgy.
"I actually like bugs," he answered thoughtfully, his mind drifting to his army of insect familiars, the eyes of whom he could feel upon him even now. "Especially ones like bees and hornets. There's something really cool about the social harmony of a hive and the cooperation it takes to make it thrive. Humans could learn a lot from them."
"Matou? As interesting as this is, you're dodging me again. Do you think you're ready to give me an answer?" asked Ai in a soft voice.
She just wasn't ready to give up on him. Everything she knew about him told him he was a good man who would grow into an even better man. He was kind, gentle, compassionate, loyal, and could even cook! It also helped that he was absolutely a beautiful boy with slightly effeminate features. She had to fight hard to contain a giggle as she recalled their time in middle school; Haruto was so beautiful that people really thought he was a tomboyish girl.
Their hands remained entwined, and Haruto met her eyes, his thumb still caressing her hand while he gathered his thoughts.
"You've been more patient with me than you should be," he said with a disappointed sigh. He then gave her hand a supportive squeeze. "I'm sorry… I'm just not in a position where I can take risks like that."
Ai sighed heavily, her gaze holding a mix of frustration and understanding. "I really wish you could help me understand you better. It feels like every time I get to learn something new about you, it only raises twenty more questions."
Haruto knew he was being supremely unfair to the girl. He really did like her. She was fun, she was beautiful, and she was easy to talk to. But there was no way he could risk subjecting an innocent girl to the true horrors of the Matou family. The use of swarms of insects as vectors for his thaumaturgy, combined with the true form of his grandfather, was enough to drive someone who was already initiated into such things to madness. Someone like Ai could never come to terms with the realities of his life. The risk of the nightmares he walked side by side with traumatizing her was just too great.
"I understand how you feel. It makes me very angry to have no choice but to bite my tongue. There's nothing I want more than to let it all out to another soul. But I just can't. Not yet. I mean, there are things in my life I don't even tell Kurumi about."
Ai slowly stood up, her hand slipping out of his. "I'd better get back in there before someone gets the wrong idea."
Haruto nodded, his eyes following her as she retreated, the unspoken words lingering in the air.
Miku sat with her legs crossed at the dining table, Len was lying in her lap and being stroked from head to tail by her favorite idol, purring with utter contentment.
Len couldn't help but muse that there were times when being a cat had its perks. She very much doubted Tsukino Yoimachi—or rather Miku Izayoi—would be as affectionate with her in human form. Though, as she purred at the soft touch of her idol's hand, the demon in disguise was willing to admit to herself that she very much wanted to imagine what that would be like, even if it was a fantasy she knew could never come to reality. Revealing her true self to Miku was just not an option on the table.
Speaking of what was on the table, she hoped her Master had the presence of mind to save some pizza for her.
"Hey, Izayoi-san? May I ask you a question?" asked Mai.
Miku looked up from the cat to the girl with the bob-cut brown hair. "I don't mind."
"What's the story with all those rumors about-"
"Hazakura," said Kurumi with a stern glare in her crimson eye.
Mai tensed up at the intensity of the look on her face. "Yes, Emiya-sama?"
"Tsukino Yoimachi doesn't exist tonight. Understand? Miku is just a friend I brought to hang out with us and have a good time. If she just happens to look and sound like Yoimachi, get over it."
"Yes, Emiya-sama! I'm sorry, Izayoi-san. Forgive me. That stuff is none of my business anyway."
Miku looked between the two girls for a moment before shaking her head. "It's fine. I guess it's natural to be curious. But, I just wanna forget about it all for a while. But, Kurumi, don't take this the wrong way, but, you're not a normal person like the rest of us. I don't understand you at all. You have this intensity about you that I just can't explain."
"You're right about that," said Ai after returning from the engawa.
"What do you mean?" asked Kurumi, she tilted her head slightly and blinked with a curious expression.
"I'm not sure how to put it into words. It's the way you carry yourself. I've met a lot of very famous people. Actors, singers, athletes, even politicians, but you carry yourself with a kind of confidence that people in my world could only wish for."
Kurumi maintained her curious expression. "Not that I don't appreciate flattery as much as the next girl, but what's your point?"
"I guess what I'm trying to say is that you're clearly one of those rare people destined for greatness."
"Are you trying to say she could be an idol or something?" asked Ai with an incredulous look on her face. "Emiya is the most tone-deaf person in the world. We don't even do karaoke anymore because she's so bad at it."
"Yeah," interjected Mai. "When Emiya sings, it's like rubbing your ears on a cheese grater."
"It's so lame…" lamented Mii.
Miku shook her head, "No. That's not what I mean. I mean like, if you ever met one of those really famous people. I don't mean like actors or singers. I mean like… What's an example…" she said while looking around the room. Her eyes finally settled on something under the television stand. She pushed a reluctant Len off her lap, got up, and rushed over to it. "Perfect!"
"What are you on about, Izayoi?" asked Origami.
Miku held up a Blu-ray box of a King Arthur movie, "This person! Imagine if this person was standing here."
"I don't have to imagine it…" said Kurumi with an amused smirk which elicited a knowing giggle from her little sister.
"If he were standing here now, you would know right away that this person is capable of great things! It's the same with Kurumi. I just know she's destined for greatness!" Miku explained.
Kurumi leaned back with a satisfied smile. "I appreciate the compliment, Miku. But I really have no interest in anything like that. I enjoy my normal life. Tonight was an exception. Normally I do my best to avoid the spotlight."
"She's not lying. Onee-sama does her best to avoid being noticed," said Kotori before donning a sinister voice and expression, clawing and unclawing her fingers as she spoke, "She works from the shadows."
"That's true. When Kurumi does things, she does them in such a way that nobody can be sure she did anything at all," added Haruto.
"I think you have the heart of a hero, Kurumi. You're an ally of justice."
Kurumi scoffed, "Miku, those who claim to be allies of justice often have a moral compass that points to nowhere. The truth people like to avoid is that right and wrong are subjective, and presuming one's definition of justice is universal is the height of hubris.
"There's a Yakuza boss four houses down the street with a stronger sense of justice than our entire legal system. A system created to serve the law can't always serve justice because law and justice are concepts created with very different goals, and never really come together until people force them to. Heroes, more often than not, are actually those we brand as villains. Why? Because for the system to work, it can't have anyone working outside of it, even if justice is their goal. Those who do are automatically branded as criminals. I'd choose to be the 'criminal' over the hero of a flawed system."
"But aren't laws created because we need to know what we can and can't do to be moral, Emiya?" asked Ai Yamabuki.
"Morality and legality aren't the same things, Yamabuki," answered Kurumi. "Morality is informed by an individual's life experience. It's the same with law and justice. Laws have to be airtight, justice has to be flexible. That's why laws end up being unjust, and why courts can't deliver justice all the time."
Ai put her hands to her head and made a gesture along with the sound of an explosion from her mouth. "This is way over my head."
"My point is that nothing is black and white. Good and evil are subjective, and more often than not decided by people in power to preserve their power. I don't believe in single-mindedness like that. Just because someone doesn't agree with my morals doesn't mean they're my enemy. We have the system we have because people can't accept a diversity of values in our society."
Miku raised an eyebrow at what she heard, unsure of how to answer, she just turned to put the movie back in its place when she widened her eyes and picked up a few more from the collection.
"Cú Chulainn, Jason and the Argonauts, Troy, every King Arthur movie. You're really into this stuff, aren't you?"
Kurumi and Kotori grinned at each other.
"Yeah, we are," answered Kotori. "Cú Chulainn is my favorite hero. I also really like King Arthur, but Cú is my hero. He was also a big hero to my mom as well."
"I'd love to hear about that. This is such a neat interest you have!" exclaimed an excited Miku while replacing the movies. When her phone started ringing, she finished putting the movies back in their places and then went over to the table, she picked it up and stared blankly at the screen while it rang.
"When a phone rings, you usually answer it?" remarked Ai.
"I've been expecting this call, but not this soon. It's my father, please excuse me, I should take this in private."
Kurumi pointed to the hallway. "You can take your call down there if you like. Or out in the engawa. We won't eavesdrop."
"Thank you so much…" she replied while rushing out towards the engawa.
"It's getting kinda late. I think we'd all better get going. My parents will freak if I'm out much later," said Ai.
"Yeah. Same here," said Mai.
"It's so lame…" muttered Mii.
"Where do you all live?" asked Kurumi.
"We all live in New City. My place is by the river. Mai and Mii both live about a block behind me, they're on the same street. So we'll probably just get a cab to take us across the bridge and walk from there."
"I could ask one of the Fujimura guys to drive you straight to your houses if you like. They'll do it."
Ai shook her head, "Thanks, but I'm not sure I wanna see how my parents would react to seeing me getting out of a fancy car in front of our house, and I don't think 'My classmate is related to a Yakuza boss' is gonna go down very well. We're fine with a taxi."
"Where do you live, Matou? You wanna bum a ride with us?" asked Mai.
Haruto shook his head, "Thanks… But my house isn't far from here, and it's not on the way to the bridge. I'll just walk home in a little while after I help clean up around here."
Kurumi stepped out onto the engawa to check on her last remaining guest. She found her sitting on the floor, holding Len in her bosom, her eyes wet with tears, black streaks from her mascara showing where the flow of tears had been.
Kurumi slowly approached and knelt down beside her, "Miku? What happened?"
"Sorry. I suppose I'm kind of ruining your evening. I should probably get going," she said before putting Len down.
For her part, Len just sat down and looked up at Miku. The idol looked back into the cat's eyes and she saw what she was certain was a genuine and human level of concern for her well-being coming from the fluffy little black kitty, but that was impossible, so she merely chalked it up to her anxiety-fueled imagination. Miku was about to stand up, but before she could, Kurumi put her hands on her shoulders and held her down.
"No. You're going nowhere. Not in your state. There is no way I'm going to let you out of my house and out of my territory where I can't protect you. You're staying here tonight. We'll get you home tomorrow after you've had a chance to rest and pull yourself together. But for now, I'll prepare a room for you. If your parents have a problem with that, let them talk to me."
Miku looked into Kurumi's eye, tears began to flood her eyes and spill over anew. "I can't go home… My father told me not to come home. To never come home… My parents just disowned me. It's only a matter of time before the photographers and reporters find me here. I can't bring this on you… The people who are out to get me, they'll come after you too if you get involved with me."
"You're in no danger here. I guarantee you'll be safe as long as you're under my protection. Until this whole thing blows over, my home is your home. You can stay as long as you want to."
"I don't deserve your kindness… I'm such a terrible person."
"I don't know you well enough to judge that, and I honestly wouldn't care if you're the worst person I've ever met in my life. You can be a primadonna or you can be the biggest spoiled Diva in the world… I don't care what you think is wrong with you. If you need my help, you'll have it."
"Why? You don't owe me anything. You don't even know the reason all of this is happening to me! What if I really do deserve everything I'm getting?!"
Kurumi sighed and moved to sit down properly beside the idol. "It's in my blood. When I see someone who needs help, I can't resist the urge to be of service and help them. Call it the Emiya family curse."
"You're so impossibly kind. Since I don't have anywhere else to go… I'll accept your hospitality. Thank you…" she said with tears flowing and her voice strained.
"Good decision. Because I would have tied you up and locked you in the attic if you tried to leave," replied an amused Kurumi. "Everyone's already left. Why don't you start by taking a bath to help you relax?"
Miku nodded and mustered a small smile, "Could I borrow some makeup remover? I must look like an extra in a zombie movie."
Kurumi nodded, "A bit, yes. It's in the bathroom. Come, I'll show you where everything is."
"I filled the tub for you," said Kurumi while walking up behind Miku who was cleaning the last of her makeup off her face. "So when you're done here, you can put your clothes straight inside the washing machine and I'll go find you something to wear. Just get in the tub and relax. There's no need to rush. Take all the time you want."
Miku looked up at the raven-haired girl standing behind her through the mirror. "Thank you… so much, Kurumi."
Kurumi shook her head, "There's no need for thanks. You're not our guest anymore. This is your home now, for as long as you want it to be. From now on, consider yourself a member of my family. I want you to feel at home. You're welcome here, you're safe here. Nobody can hurt you here. You'll never be asked to leave under any circumstances. Anything you need, at any time, just ask any of us."
Miku felt a stab in her heart and her vision blurred with fresh tears in her silver eyes.
"Hey, don't cry now," she said before wrapping her arms around the singer's waist to hold her supportively. "Everything's going to be alright. I promise."
"It's not that…" she said before sniffling. "I just can't believe how kind you are, and how lucky I am that you won that stupid tournament and I got to meet you…"
"Luck had nothing to do with it. I'm just that good," remarked Kurumi with a laugh.
After Kurumi left her alone, Miku took a moment to take a few deep breaths to settle her anxiety and emotions. To further distract herself, she looked around the bathroom with wonder. Every part of the house had the same old-world charm with only sparse hints of the modern world. The marble top sink with chrome fittings, a large mirror, and a small washing machine in the corner, but that was it. The floor was the same varnished dark brown wooden planks used in the hallways.
She took off her clothes and placed them all inside the washing machine. She then slid open the inner doors. Once again she was confronted by a place where the distant past and the modern world come together seamlessly. The ceiling and upper walls were all made of brightly colored wooden planks. There was a window as well, but it was made of the same semi-transparent icey glass as the doors. The wooden walls stopped just above the bathtub and became tiled with no specific pattern, a beautiful kind of organized chaos along the walls and the floor. A wooden stool invited her in front of the shower area next to a large, all wooden bathtub which made her feel more relaxed just after laying her eyes upon it.
After washing up in the shower area, she slowly lowered herself into the wooden tub and let the sensation she was experiencing take over. The steam of the hot bath combined with the smell of the wood and whatever shampoo and body soap Kurumi had were all very soothing to the senses. Even the light fixture was surrounded by a diffusion box that made it so the light wasn't too bright.
Miku lifted her hands to her face, savoring the scent of her freshly cleansed skin. The fragrance evoked visions of her new friend, the enigmatic raven-haired girl. Her dark appearance led her imagination to run wild as she thought about Kurumi.
The contrast between her new friend's kindness and her mysterious and dark aura fascinated Miku. The confidence with which she carried herself, her enigmatic smile, and the concealed eye beneath bangs and an eye patch all contributed to her captivating presence. Her visible eye, a deep shade of red, added to the mystique, casting her in Miku's mind as an irresistibly alluring yet potentially dangerous figure.
In an unusual twist of what she knew were popular tropes in girl's daydreams, Miku imagined herself not being rescued by a charming and heroic figure, but as a captive under the spell of a beautiful villainess. Despite the chaos surrounding her, the thought of having Kurumi Emiya, a figure shrouded in darkness, as an ally filled Miku with a strange sense of security and excitement. A playful giggle escaped her lips as she entertained the notion of what it might be like to go from being the hostage of the antagonist of this story she developed in her mind to her lover. The idea of it sent shivers of excitement up and down her body even before she could visualize any of the particulars of such a scene.
A gentle knock at the door suddenly pulled her from her thoughts.
"Izayoi-san," called Origami. "I'm leaving some clothes here in the basket by the door."
"Thank you so much, I'll be out soon!" she said trying her best to sound like her normal self and not someone who had just been creating an elaborate erotic fantasy in her mind.
"There is nobody waiting their turn, so take all the time you want," replied Origami. "Do you know how to put on a yukata?"
"A yukata? Yes. Why do you ask?"
"Because we all wear them around the house."
"I see. That sounds fun. I haven't worn a yukata in a long time!"
Origami said nothing in response, all Miku could hear were her footfalls moving away.
Miku sat up in the tub, put both hands on her face, and groaned. The interruption of Origami caused her to now reflect on how she'd been allowing herself to think of Kurumi. Someone who was doing everything in her power to shelter and protect her from the vicious storm that had just taken away everything she had in her life and left her with nothing to call her own. She inwardly cursed herself repeatedly for thinking lewd thoughts about this kind girl and what a horrible person she could become now that she had taken her first tentative steps to shed her manufactured idol persona and get to know her true self. She couldn't accept it if her true self was someone so shameless, even if it was considered perfectly normal for girls her age to have such thoughts.
Miku was given the guest room opposite Kotori's bedroom. She couldn't help but feel thankful for the Western-style bed. It wasn't that she was spoiled or anything, but she wasn't accustomed to sleeping on a futon anymore.
Laying in the small but surprisingly comfortable bed, Miku held her phone above her and scrolled through her social media mentions. In retrospect, it was a terrible idea. Line after line of the most vile, disdainful, and malicious words one human being could ever hurl at another were being directed at her, en masse. Her feed was overflowing with vitriolic remarks about her body, salacious lies about her supposed promiscuity, as well as unspeakable and disgustingly specific threats.
What few posts were made in her defense were deleted after being ratioed into oblivion. She could respond but she knew it wouldn't make a difference. She could report the worst posts but that really wouldn't matter, the damage was already done.
Nobody was interested in the truth, she'd be wasting her efforts. The truth was a thing decided by public opinion. She could point out all the lies but it wouldn't matter, the lies had a life of their own. Even if the ones responsible for starting the rumors came out and admitted to lying, it wouldn't matter.
Whatever voice Tsukino Yoimachi once had was now gone. All that was left was Miku Izayoi, a homeless and defenseless teenage girl without a friend in the world.
She thought back to Kurumi's monologue about the nature of law and justice and how the courts were not capable of serving both. Her own situation was such a case. The law couldn't or wouldn't give her justice for what was being done to her.
She opened the post made by her agency announcing that it had cut ties to her. The decision was being praised, not just by strangers, but by other idols in her agency as well. People who were supposed to be her allies. Maybe when it was their turn to experience what she experienced they'd feel differently, or perhaps they had simply done as they were told and sacrificed their dignity for when they were told to. If nothing else, Miku knew she held onto her dignity, for whatever it was worth. Ultimately the truth didn't matter in the entertainment world, the only thing that mattered was the clicks the headlines could generate, thus the truth would be whatever was most financially preferable to the stakeholders involved.
If her fan base were behind her, the situation could have been different. But they had betrayed her. Like her parents, they had cast her out the moment she needed their help. Everything was fine when she was on stage for them in her cute outfits and singing her songs for them. But as soon as that fragile image they created for her was cracked, nobody wanted it anymore.
She switched off the screen and set the phone down on the desk beside her bed, next to an antique clock. She gazed at the bronze face and the Roman numerals, through its center she could see the inner workings of the mechanism. If only that mechanism could work in reverse, she could go back and warn herself of what was to come.
When she finally closed her eyes, all she could see was Kurumi's face. Realizing that reversing time to undo the events which led her to this moment would mean never having the chance to meet Kurumi. She imagined herself leaning in to capture her lips with her own.
She inhaled sharply and groaned into the pillow to muffle the sound. She felt a deep shame for allowing herself such filthy thoughts about someone who was amazing enough to take her in, protect her, and be her friend without demanding anything in return. Some part of her knew her mind was just grasping at whatever straw it could find to distract her from everything else in her life, but it still felt revolting to her that her mind chose to linger on her tightly repressed, morally and contractually forbidden base desires, which were now demanding their time in the spotlight without Tsukino Yoimachi getting in the way.
While clutching onto the warm down blanket covering her, she began silently whispering to herself…
"I hate my life… I hate my life… I hate my life… I hate my life… I hate my life… I hate my life… I hate my life… I hate my life… I hate my life… I hate my life… I hate my life… I hate my life… I hate my life… I hate my life… I hate my life… I hate my life… I hate my life… I hate my life… I hate my life… I hate my life… I hate my life… I hate my life… I hate my life… I hate my life…"
After performing their nightly magecraft practice and rituals in the workshop, Kurumi and Origami entered their shared bedroom. The white-haired girl had her eyes glued to her phone the entire way back from the workshop.
"Is something the matter, my love?"
Origami lowered her phone and looked up, "I've been reading about Izayoi's situation. It's not good."
Kurumi nodded before walking over to the closet. "Could you give me the abridged version?"
Origami went over to her side of the futons and sat down there to begin explaining her findings, "A famous producer auditioned Izayoi for a role in an upcoming television show. When she was turned down for the role his company claims she offered certain favors in exchange for the part."
"Are the police investigating this? If he partook, that would be a crime," asked Kurumi while changing into her sleeping clothes.
"No. There is no official investigation taking place. There is however a statement saying that there is no evidence of any crimes and thus it is not a police matter."
"One thing I've learned from hanging around with my grandfather is that Japanese police only pursue the cases where there is a near certainty of getting a conviction. It's a sad day for you if you're the victim of a crime that isn't open and shut. In Miku's case, the poor prosecutor might actually have to get out of his chair and put in some actual work."
"I presume you have a plan?" asked Origami.
"For now, my plan is to have her stay here until things calm down. I don't want to rush anything. We'll just take it one day at a time and see how it goes."
"I feel for her. From what you told me, she provided her parents with a comfortable home and elevated them out of poverty. Her reward for that was to be disowned as soon as their easy and comfortable life became a little bit difficult. I have no respect for such people who do not value their families above all else. For parents to turn their backs on their own daughter in her time of crisis is loathsome. The fact that you, a stranger to her, is the only person in her corner now instead of her own parents… It makes me very angry."
"What about you?" she asked while sitting down beside her girlfriend. "Aren't you in her corner too?"
"I'm in your corner. So naturally, I'll support you in all things, including this."
"I'm glad to hear that," she said before lying down and yawning.
"However, if she keeps looking at you the way she has been, this place may not remain safe for her."
"The 'yandere' thing is my shtick," remarked an amused Kurumi.
"Does it not bother you that she is obviously attracted to you?"
"Yes, my love," she started with her most dry and deadpan tone of voice. "It's doing great harm to my self-esteem to have a beautiful idol with amazing hair, breasts the size of my head, and a perfect figure lusting after me. I feel so fragile. Will you please hold me and tell me how much you love me..."
"You're not funny…" she replied while lying down.
"You're too cute when you're jealous," answered Kurumi while scooting over to cuddle up against her girlfriend. Laying her head to rest on her shoulder.
Origami pouted and huffed in annoyance.
"You've nothing to be jealous of, my love. She doesn't stand a chance against you. I've already decided that the rest of my life will be spent with you. If anyone wants to test my commitment to that, then let them try. All you need to do is sit back and watch as their faces sour from the bitter taste of defeat."
Origami felt a surge of satisfaction with the words she heard. Their heads slowly came closer together, their eyes began to close.
The instant their lips were about to meet there was a loud scream.
Kurumi immediately rolled away and stood up. She made sure her yukata was properly closed in the front while opening the door to her room. She then started running down the corridor in the direction of the screaming, pushing past Miku who was now standing in the hallway and wondering what was happening.
Kurumi threw open the door to Kotori's room where she found her little sister on the floor curled up in the fetal position. Her eyes and cheeks were wet with tears, her body covered in sweat, her mind was somewhere between being awake and still being trapped within her nightmare. Kurumi dove in and took her little sister into her arms and held her tightly despite the resistance the girl offered.
"Shhh… It's okay. Everything's okay."
Miku looked on with a hand over her heart while Origami came up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder.
"We should give them privacy. I don't believe Kotori would ever want to be seen in this state by anyone who isn't her sister or her father," said Origami while shutting the door to Kotori's room.
"Do you know what's wrong with her?"
"Yes," replied Origami while walking away towards the living room.
"Would you tell me?" asked Miku while following her.
"Kotori and I come from Tenguu City."
"Tenguu City? Why does that sound so familiar?"
"Five years ago there was a fire which consumed a large part of the city, it killed many thousands of people. Kotori and I are both survivors who were orphaned in that disaster."
"Oh… That's what it was. So I guess she has nightmares about it?"
"Yes. I do as well, but not like hers. Kotori lives with amnesia, she does not remember anything before waking up in the hospital. But every so often, she relives the trauma in her sleep. Whatever she sees in her nightmares must be truly horrific."
"I'm so sorry…" said Miku in a soft voice. "I feel so horrible for her… Is there anything I can do?"
"Nothing. You should try to sleep. I'll prepare breakfast in the morning."
Miku nodded, "Thank you."