Shinji's Paradox

Chapter 14

Scratching the Surface

March 4th, 1990, 12:36 PM, Matou Residence

The final passage was read for the second time, and another short jotting was added to the scrawls accumulated in my notebook. The once pristine journal was now a mess of colour-coded sticky tabs and several pens worth of ink stuffed to the brim with drafted mysteries.

That eyesore was shut quickly, but the frighteningly old text beside it had to be closed much more carefully. The centuries-old clothbound tome wasn't replaceable, and the aged bindings were not as sturdy as the metal helix that held my notebook together. It was the last of the nine books in the library that detailed the Slavic pagan cosmology.

Letting the cover rest closed on the desk filled me with a sense of accomplishment… even if it was a hollow one. I'd read all of the books detailing that particular facet of the foundation, but of all my notes, nothing immediately stood out to me as the basis of mysteries that could threaten Zouken.

I slumped into my chair, and the expensive wood didn't even creak under my weight. Planning any sort of confrontation with Zouken at this point was a pipe dream.

There was just too much to do.

Freeing myself of the parasites was just the first step, and all I could do on that front was wait on Hinode. After that, I needed to find a way to make my magical circuits work properly— I didn't even know where to start with that. And once I became the bare minimum of a mage, I needed to turn these notes into proper spells. Preferably ones that targeted some kind of weakness that Zouken may or may not have.

How would I even find something like that? It wasn't like Zouken left anything lying around that would clue me in.

What was I even doing?

Was it even possible for me to do this on my own? A child with circuits that don't even work, pitting himself against a centuries-old magus with a body count likely in the thousands?

'… How would you do this, Einzbern?'

My message met with no response. I didn't even know if I was still communicating with the ghost correctly.

That familiar throb welled up inside me. Numb and cold. Beating on the inside of my skull. Squeezing my chest like I was buried under a mountain of everything.

I couldn't let my motivation slip. "There's no dead end… there's no dead end," I chanted quietly. "Just one thing at a time…"

Hinode appeared in the library doorway, carrying a stack of books. "There you are," she said once she spotted me. "Should've known. You've been glued to that desk recently."

Grateful for the distraction, I turned lazily in my seat to see her walking over. She reeked of playful confidence.

"What can I say? It's not like I have anything better to do," I said.

Hinode sat in front of my desk and lowered her head enough that it was slightly lower than mine. Enough that she had to look up at me. Whatever instincts I had kicked into gear at her puckish manner. I knew I had to keep my wits about me.

"Hey, hey," she practically sang. "Whatcha doing right now?"

I could barely keep my eyebrows from knitting together. It was clear that Hinode wanted something, so I followed through on an urge to deflect the incoming request. "Well, I just wrapped up a study project of mine. You want to have lunch?"

"So you aren't doing anything right now? That's great!" she said with a shrill voice, completely ignoring my offer for a shared meal. The books she'd brought were placed gently-not-so-gently onto my desk. "Shinji-sensei-sama-kun! Could you use that super smart brain of yours and help Wakumi-nee-chan with her homework, pleeease?"

Between the elementary schooler act and the exaggerated honorific, I didn't know what made me wince more.

She punctuated my silence by fluttering her eyelids at me.

"That depends," I said. "What exactly do you want, Hinode-san?"

She gestured to the pile of books she'd placed on my desk. "Translate these for me?"

I eyed them warily. The titles I could see on the spines were all in Russian, so it was easy to presume why she needed them translated in the first place. Hinode didn't speak or read the language.

… These specific books were unfamiliar. I didn't know where Hinode had found them, but she'd only just walked in with them. They weren't from this library— maybe they were from the mundane one downstairs?

"I'll do it for two thousand yen," I said.

Hinode pouted. "What would a three-year-old even do with that kind of money?"

"Good point." I smirked. "Five thousand yen."

"Tch, fine." She produced a few bills and placed them on the desk beside the books. Something else for me to eye warily.

"You just carrying money around the house for no reason or…?"

"Oh, that's just left over from when I went grocery shopping this morning."

I blinked as I recalled that something like that had been mentioned over breakfast. She had gone out, hadn't she? "Oh… right."

She cocked her head and returned my blink. "You alright there, Shinji-kun? No mana issues today?"

"The worms ate this morning at breakfast, but I took some blood afterwards. I'm just mentally exhausted from all the note taking I've been doing." Shaking my head, I decided to change the topic. "Hinode-san… where did these books come from?"

"Bagworm's library."

I felt like I'd choked on air.

She took these from Zouken's personal library?! Did she suddenly develop a death wish? Catch some kind of bug at the market? Will I have to cover for another woman stealing things from this house?

She should know better!

"You sure you're okay?" Hinode said.

"You do know what this looks like, right?" I used both hands to make a strong gesture at the pile of what was effectively contraband. "Why do you have Zouken's books?"

It took a moment for her to understand what I was getting at. "Oh, right. Don't worry, Zouken knows I'm taking these."

Huh?

"He does?" I asked incredulously.

She nodded. "Yep."

"… Just to be sure, he gave you permission, right?"

"Yeah, he even gave me a list of the books and passages he said I could look at."

No way.

Silence gripped the room before I waved my hands about in an almost violent gesture, practically begging for her to elaborate.

"Ah, well… I was rigging up the enchantment for the surgery tools when it occurred to me that it was only geared toward distinguishing human biological matter from other things. Normally that would be fine, but seeing as parasitic phantasmal beasts that fuse with human flesh are involved, I thought that some additional research would be necessary before I finalise the enchantment. Just to make sure that nothing goes horribly wrong."

I had to give myself a moment to process that. "Was it because you were worried that the enchantment might confuse the worms for parts of the human body?"

"Yup. Byakuya's worms have fused with his nerves and magical circuits, but I don't know how deep that bond goes. Don't want to only pull out half a worm, do we?" Hinode averted her eyes. "Or pull out a whole worm and a little bit extra…"

I nodded. "Yeah, I don't want to pull anything important out of my father. Or myself."

"So, because pretty much only the bagworm knows anything about them, I told him what was going on and asked if he could help me out, and… well. He did write this for me. But…" Hinode held out a piece of paper marked with Cyrillic text that was doubtlessly Zouken's handwriting. "I think this might have been his idea of a practical joke; the titles don't properly match, so I spent about half an hour just trying to make sure I picked up the right ones."

She held the list out to me, and I read it aloud. "Makiri Krest Biologiya i tsikl rosta, prilozheniye vosʹmoye'. Okay, so… there's an appendix mentioned here; some of this isn't actually part of the title."

"Oh, okay. That explains it."

Curious about what she was looking for, I sifted through the pile and found that specific book. Flipping to appendix eight, I found a heavily detailed series of diagrams. They were all of the crest worms and presented the purpose and functions of every tiny organ, the chemical makeup of their chitin, and the expected growth stages they went through from egg to adult.

It was all in Russian, of course. Translating this for Hinode would…

… I took a brief moment to appraise exactly what I was holding.

It was a book about the biology of Zouken's familiars.

I took another tentative look at the pile of books on my desk before I put the one I was holding down and opened another, which I skimmed for an idea of what it was about. I repeated this a few times.

Biology, place of origin, a record of their previous and potential evolutionary stages, even some of the mysteries sealed within them!

This is what I need!

"You know what, Hinode-san? I'm going to get right onto translating these for you after lunch," I said.

She perked up rather quickly. "Really?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "Can I get that list off of you?"

"Yeah, sure."

She passed the small scrap of paper to me, and I scanned it ravenously. Three appendices and four chapters— that was what Hinode needed for the surgery tools— but the rest of the seven books on my desk could potentially hold the secrets to putting the old bastard in the dirt!

"So… how long do you think it'll take?" Hinode asked.

I stared thoughtfully at the pile of books for a moment before I said, "If I focus on the specific parts Zouken outlined in this list first; maybe a week."

"I guess that's not too bad of a delay," she muttered before she frowned and levelled a glare at me. "But what do you mean by 'if you focus on them first'? Were you going to look through the rest of it too or something?"

I stared impassively at her, cursed the Freudian slip, and then said, "… What of it?"

Hinode looked fixedly at me with her own stony face. "I should take this opportunity to remind you that these books concern themselves with the Matou Crest, and misplacing them or distributing the secrets inside to people that shouldn't have them— such as myself— would be incredibly irresponsible of you."

I raised an eyebrow at her odd personality shift.

Then, abruptly, she leaned a little closer and whispered, "Although, if you happen to translate a few of the more sensitive parts— by mistake, of course— I wouldn't mind if a copy found its way into my possession."

Slightly stunned, I had to wait a moment for my thoughts to arrange themselves again.

… What?

Hinode just asked me to give the details of my family's mysteries to her.

Did that mean she was inviting me to conspire against Zouken…?

Why?

The first thought that came to mind was that undermining the secrecy of Zouken's mysteries would make them less effective, obviously.

It would make him weaker…

The thought strayed not wholly unwelcome into my mind. If Zouken's mysteries were less effective after I shared them with Hinode, it wouldn't be as difficult to kill the elder when it came time to finally remove him from the world of the living. And that was enough for me to think this could be a good idea.

But what was Hinode's intent? I knew she wasn't trying to take Zouken out of the picture. If she thought she could take him in a fight, then she wouldn't have been coerced into living here and starting a relationship with Dad in the first place.

… Safety for her new family? Maybe.

How?

Zouken would kill her if she threatened to share the information any further than me, so it couldn't be that. Maybe she was planning ahead for something else? Did she have my future little sibling's education in mind?

It made sense… but I didn't think it could be that simple.

The silence had lasted long enough for Hinode's calm expression to have become worried over my lack of response.

"… Doing the rest afterwards might take little over a month," I finally whispered back. "That work for you?"

There was another much more brief pause before Hinode slowly nodded.

Done whispering, I said, "I'll do the first passages this afternoon, then."

"Thanks, Shinji-kun! You're the best!" Hinode said in a burst of cheer. "Did you want me to make lunch?"

"Yeah," I said. "I'll pack up and get Dad."

"Sweet." Hinode grinned as she stood up and spun towards the door. "I think he's still in the greenhouse. See you in a bit!"

She disappeared into the hallway, and I bowed my head with a sigh. It was always somewhat overwhelming watching Hinode's personality flip between whimsical and humourless without warning.

"Shinji-kun!" Hinode suddenly called from the doorway. She was leaning sideways in the hallway, head and arms visible in the frame. "Egg salad sandwiches?" she asked before she wiggled her eyebrows and added, "We have that really nice sauce from Friday too. Ooh! I could toast 'em!"

A smirk forced its way onto my face. "Yeah, that sounds good."

Hinode vanished into the hallway a second time, leaving a thumbs up in her wake.

Only once I was sure I'd been left alone, I fell back into my chair and let out the breath I'd been holding.

I wasn't the only one investigating Zouken's mysteries anymore.

What are you planning, Hinode-san?

March 4th, 1990, 12:46 PM, Matou Residence Greenhouse

The greenhouse door opened without a sound. Dad had oiled the old thing thrice since he started getting serious about tending to the plants. The thing didn't even squeak as I shut it behind me.

'Greenhouse!'

And as per usual, the worms worked themselves up once I was inside. Number Three was as excitable as ever and couldn't keep quiet whenever I visited.

"Yep," I confirmed. "Greenhouse."

'Pleasant. Good scent.' Number Two added.

The thick smell of nectar and mulched earth saturated the greenhouse air. Dad had done his best to accommodate an artificial seasonal system, and most of the springtime plants were now flowering. It might have mattered that it was actually the beginning of spring, but I didn't know enough about that to draw any conclusions.

'Here for roots?!' Number Four said. 'Like roots!'

"No, we aren't here for ginseng."

'Sorry! Byakuya?!'

Huh. Number Four learned Dad's name. "Yeah, we're here to find Dad."

Conversations with the worms were usually short bits of small talk, and despite the creatures being worms, they were quite a bit distinct from each other. I'd been able to tell them apart by their "voices" for a while already, but I was starting to become accustomed to tiny idiosyncrasies that I would have associated with personality had I not known any better.

Number One acted hesitant whenever it spoke and usually led the others whenever they badgered me for names. Shy but determined.

Number Two was much more confident, and didn't mince words whenever it spoke, which was very little. It was definitely the least friendly of the lot.

Number Three could actually hold slightly more complicated discussions, but not for very long. It always got too excited whenever it figured something out for the first time.

Number Four was always shouting and habitually apologised for nothing. I didn't think I'd ever know how it came to understand what an apology was. I certainly didn't teach it.

I had been thinking of naming them based on these traits. Bashful for One and Grumpy for Two was as far as I got before deciding that the seven dwarves approach probably wasn't very clever or appropriate. I would be better off naming them after something related to whatever magecraft I ended up with.

Actually, come to think of it, there might be something in Slavic folklore I could use. Something like Dad's Musashi and Kojiro duo. A historical quintet of sorts…? Perhaps I should look over the dynamics of the foundation again.

I spotted Dad over by the benches in the centre, writing something on a small bag with a marker. It looked like he was sorting through the ginseng crop of the day.

When I reached him, I said, "Hey."

He repeated the word in a tired monotone and rubbed his eyes.

"This place looks great. Smells great too."

He took a breath through his nose and nodded with a concurring hum.

"… Okay, what's up?"

Dad put away the little bags and boxes. "I was doing the mana absorption spells for the day."

Ah, right. Magecraft.

"Without the crest worms supporting me," he added.

I blinked. Twice. "Why?"

"Well, I'm not going to have them anymore once Wakumi finishes making your tools, so I wanted to see if I could still do it." He smiled with pride as he pulled dirty gloves off his hands. "I managed to fully complete the mana absorption spells on the ginseng plants without their help twice as of today!"

I squinted at him. "And how long did it take for you to recover after using those spells?"

"… About an hour for each."

I sighed. "You alright?"

"I'm alright, just a little drowsy." He turned to me. "I ate a piece of ginseng after both attempts, so I shouldn't have any odic issues. I am physically worn out from all the gardening, but that's all."

Seeing him prepare himself to be separated from the crest worms was worrying. It was good that he'd be free of the parasites, but it would cripple his already pitiful ability as a mage. If there was anything that he used magecraft for aside from the ginseng spell, he might not be able to use it once the surgery happened.

I decided to ask him about it. "Do you do anything else with the worms? Anything else with magecraft, I mean."

Dad hummed thoughtfully, but in his tired daze, it looked like he was groaning in achy fatigue. "There was the occasional thing for Zouken… but I think that project ended. That would mean just helping you with the mana potion recipe."

I'd completely forgotten about that. We hadn't tried to brew the mixture since October when I'd decided the surgical method would be much simpler. I probably wouldn't even need it once the worms were gone. "So you don't use them for anything important?"

"Aside from being a way for Zouken to contact me whenever he likes, no. You know I've never been good at magecraft."

Zouken could contact Dad through his worms? How could… no, of course, he could. They were his familiars, after all. I almost began to wonder why he'd never done that with me, but that was quickly replaced with a quiet hope that he never would.

"Shinji?"

I looked up to see Dad examining me with concern. "Yeah?" I answered.

He took a deep breath. "The surgery. Are you certain you know how to do this?"

I nodded. "Shouldn't be too complicated. They're always in your arms, right?"

"They haven't moved in years, and are properly fused with the muscles and nerves."

"It's a good thing that Hinode is being so thorough then. She's started doing some additional modifications to the tools to account for that. Arm surgery is pretty simple as far as surgeries go anyway, since there are no major organs to worry about. Muscles always heal pretty well as long as you let them rest properly. A lot of the vegetables you have in here are good for post-surgery recovery, too." I sent him a lopsided smirk. "By the way, that means no using less cabbage or kale than the recipe dictates."

Dad winced. "But they're so bitter…"

"Usually, cooking them properly helps with that."

"Hey, it was only one mistake! My pride can only take so much of a beating."

"Maybe if I beat it enough it'll be more palatable than what you served us four days ago." I smiled as I shook my head in faux disappointment. "And on that note; lunch. Hinode is making toasted sandwiches. Egg salad with that sauce from Friday."

Dad looked towards the house for a moment with interest, but he quickly adopted a sullen frown. "As great as that sounds, don't run away from this conversation just yet."

"… What do you mean?"

"The surgery," he reiterated.

… I had dodged the topic a little, I realised. "Right. Was there anything specific you wanted to know?"

"How do you know anything about it, Shinji? Surgery and all the things related to it? You just told me that that some vegetables are ideal to eat after an operation, but how did you learn that? It's not the kind of thing we have in the upstairs library, because that's all magecraft related."

It didn't take long for me to draw a blank and stand there looking at him in complete silence. I didn't have an answer. Not one I could give him without revealing the paradox, and I wasn't planning on disclosing that secret anytime soon.

A pensive quiet suffered between us for a few moments.

Uh… shit.

Why hadn't I thought that someone would ask about this? They hadn't asked about any other obviously abnormal things I had done.

… In hindsight, not being investigated thoroughly after reading three different languages immediately after walking for the first time or developing nerve circuits shortly after turning one was more than slightly concerning.

It was probably safe to assume they had come to their own conclusions, but I didn't know what they were. Neglecting to ask them what they thought about my strange intellect was coming back to bite me.

I could imply that I'd acquired the medical expertise the same way I gained the ability to read and speak other languages— whatever they thought that was— but if that conflicted with something they thought they already knew…

I didn't know what they'd do if they thought I was hiding something. I could ask Dad about it now, but I'd have to make time to see what Zouken thought at some point, so I wouldn't risk contradicting it with anything else from the old causality.

Should I just play dumb as to the origin of the knowledge for now?

… It was a really pathetic plan, but it would have to do.

"I'm… not sure exactly, but I think I learned it the same way I learned how to read Japanese, German, and Russian… however that happened," I finally said. "Do you or Zouken know anything about that?"

Dad's face crinkled into a complicated expression. "No… but I suppose Zouken would know more than I do," he mumbled before closing his eyes dolefully. "He always does."

"Should I ask him about it?"

"If you think he'll bother to answer, I suppose." Dad frowned. "Zouken doesn't really share his thoughts on things if he doesn't feel the need to."

So Zouken had simply left him out of the loop on the matter. That, or neither of them had any ideas in the first place. Dad didn't know anything in either scenario, so he should buy into my professed unawareness… unless he was faking it.

… No. Dad wasn't faking it. I was done thinking about him like that. The only one I should be concerned with was Zouken.

"Yo, boys! What's taking so long!" Hinode's voice suddenly called from the greenhouse door.

We both turned to see her marching down the dirty pavers towards us with a plate of what must have been toasted sandwiches.

Dad seemed to recover from his dour expression. "So… The surgery. A few weeks maybe?" he asked.

"Maybe," I echoed. "Depends on how long it takes for Hinode to get those tools done."

Hinode arrived at the centre of the greenhouse with a giddy grin and declared, "Grub's up!"

"How'd they turn out?" I asked, eyeing the plate.

"Behold!" She said, kneeling so she could hold the plate before me in triumph. "Something way better than what we had on Wednesday evening!"

Dad's smile fell to the brickwork at his feet, and he huffed in annoyance. "You two aren't going to let that go anytime soon, are you?"

"Nope," I said, reaching for a sandwich. "Thank you for the food."

March 24th, 1990, 4:26 PM, Matou Residence

We had decided to use one of the empty guest rooms as a temporary operating theatre for Dad's surgery. When we'd first inspected the space, it was nowhere near what I would have called adequate surgical conditions. The room had been in desperate need of some adjustments.

The first thing we did was start hauling all of the unnecessary furnishings out of the room. The room had only the bare necessities. The only thing that gave us any trouble was the curtains. Not because they'd been stuck, risked being damaged, or anything reasonable. Zouken had interrupted us and tried to bar the effort, and he'd only acquiesced when we agreed to change them back later. Whatever reason he wanted the old and musty window hangings to be left as they were so much was beyond me.

Once the room was cleared out, we scrubbed the floor and walls with high-grade cleaning substances and disinfectants, and while I wouldn't have called it aseptic, the room was clean enough to use as an operating theatre with little risk.

Dad was… ready, for lack of a better word. He lay nearby on an adjustable bed we'd acquired with no shirt on. Waiting patiently, but no doubt nervous. He was eyeing his right arm with a lightless gaze and muttered something under his breath. Possibly having a short conversation with Musashi and Kojiro for the last time. Beside the bed, a wheel-bound overhead surgical light and a small step for me to stand on during the procedure were prepared. But it was what was on top of the nearby trolley that was truly important.

I'd asked for magic surgeon's tools, and Hinode had delivered.

A few scalpels, a lancet, some retractors, a pair of forceps, some scissors, a needle, and a spool of thread rested on a clean cloth. Letters, tiny carved pieces of gold, and various colours of jade were etched or embedded in odd locations and shapes and glistened in the artificial light with an unnatural sheen. They were necessary for Hinode's enchantments to function, so she couldn't apply them to some of the more fancy electrical equipment I was familiar with from the old causality. There simply wasn't enough room for them on those sorts of devices.

A few other things I would or might be using today occupied the lower shelf of the trolley, a bottle of antiseptic and an empty fish tank among them.

I took a much-needed deep breath before I slipped a surgical mask over my face, tucking the straps under my hairnet and around my ears. Specially ordered surgical gloves went over my tiny hands before I exchanged a look with Hinode.

She'd joked about wearing a specific variety of nurse uniform to this just the other day, and I was glad to see that she'd decided to take this seriously and not do that. Just like I had, she wore rubber gloves, a mask, and a clean change of plain white clothes beneath an apron. Her hair was tied in a tight bun, and her own hairnet was pulled over that.

She would be taking notes of how the tools performed after we removed each worm and acting as a surgical assistant. I'd given her a rundown of how I would communicate with her during the procedure— a simplified version of the practice I had with my usual assistants in the old causality— and I had no reason to think she'd mess it up.

"Tell me everything I need to know about the tools in a minute?" I asked.

"Yeah," she said.

I gave her a nod, which she quietly returned. Then I approached Dad. As I came to stand on the step, I glanced at everything around me— the light, the tools, the trolley, the bed— except Dad, but I ended up awkwardly staring at his arm for a few moments before I found the courage to look him in the eye.

"Nervous?" he asked.

I said nothing for a few moments, debating what best to say before I settled on, "How do you feel?"

"More like, what don't I feel, right?" he joked. "This anaesthetic is crazy. I can't feel my arms at all."

"Well… if you can talk like that then I guess you're feeling more confident about this than I thought."

Dad just smiled and said. "Don't worry. I believe in you."

I briefly choked on my own voice before I retorted, "Don't say such weird things!"

"Haha… sorry." Dad shifted in the bed. "You good to start?"

I glared at my father, and he smirked knowingly at my silent accusation.

… I can't believe I needed to hear something like that.

The thought washed away my uncertainty, and the professionalism I hadn't relied on since the old causality came to the forefront.

"If anything happens that you don't like, just give the word and I'll stop," I told him for the nth time.

Dad nodded, still smiling with mischievous pride.

Bastard.

I cleared my throat, prompting Hinode to perk up and take a breath.

"Okay, so I'll start by explaining the cutting tools; the scalpels, scissors, and the lancet," she started, making her way over to the trolley and gesturing to the items in question. "They read the users intent, meaning they'll only cut what you want them to cut. If anything comes against the blade that you aren't aware of, or otherwise don't want to cut, the tool will provide you with a general idea of what it is and only go further if you decide to let it. As safe as is possible with things that are so sharp."

"Interesting…" I muttered. "So if the blade comes against something like a nerve… then…?"

"Then you'll be notified, and the blade will refuse to cut it without permission."

I could imagine plenty of risky surgeries that could be much less dangerous with something that useful. I could remember some, actually.

"The retractors are incapable of breaking anything." Hinode continued. "So no matter how wide you spread an opening with them they won't tear any tissue further than it already has been. They'll also mitigate any excess bleeding while they're holding a wound open. It's not much, but it's something."

I nodded in understanding. Less damaged tissue and lost blood meant a cleaner operation and a safer recovery.

"The forceps. These are the most important ones of the bunch right now because these are what you'll be using to grip the worms before you pull them out. They can phase though human organic material, excel at gripping anything that isn't that, and can be used to pry the two apart."

"… Seriously?" I breathed out.

"Yup. They have the most complex enchantment, and should separate the crest worms from whatever they are fused to. They won't pull anything out if there is skin or too much flesh in the way though, so we still need to open Byakuya up with the scalpels instead of just sticking these in and pulling the worms out."

"If only it were that simple," I remarked.

"Yeah, if only," Hinode smiled mirthfully before she pointed to the final items on the trolley. "That leaves the needle and thread. The needle won't cause any pain, and the thread will speed up the healing process by a significant amount, and even provides a numbing effect that will dull any pain or discomfort from the wound for a good while after the anaesthetic wears off. Once it's not needed anymore it will disintegrate. As a bonus, it also prevents scarring!"

Done with her explanation, Hinode stood straighter with her hands on her hips and a conspicuous grin behind the mask on her face.

"You expecting praise or something?" I joked.

"Yes!" Hinode said enthusiastically.

As straight-faced as I could manage, I rolled my eyes and said, "They're adequate."

Dad chuckled as Hinode gave me a look.

"I'm joking, obviously," I added. "I didn't know what to expect when I asked for enchanted tools, but these sound useful. I couldn't have hoped to do something like this on my own."

Hinode looked at me expectantly.

I sighed. "… Good job, Hinode-san. We wouldn't be here without you. You're the best."

"And don't you forget it!" she sang.

I rolled my eyes at her before I stared at Dad's exposed arm for a moment. The hairs near where we'd planned the incision had been shaved off, and if Byakuya's explanation was accurate, then the anaesthetic had numbed the area.

Nothing left to do but to do it.

"Alright." I plucked the antiseptic and a swab to apply it from the trolley. It went on easy enough, and then I swapped them for a scalpel with a blade of the appropriate length. "Let's get started."

The blade pierced the skin. Easier than I remember, I noticed. This is sharper than any scalpel I've ever used before.

I carefully drew the blade along the arm. The familiar act dredged up some memories from the old causality, but the stakes were decidedly higher than something as typical as the arm lifts I'd already experienced. I needed to access the space we had determined the worm to be in; it should be near either the median or ulnar nerves. A scent of blood tinged the air, and I could smell it even through the mask.

In my peripheral vision, I could see Dad's eyes widen, and I paused the incision.

"All good?" I asked.

"… It doesn't hurt, if that what your asking," he said. "You don't have to stop. It's just strange not to feel it."

After a moment, I nodded and resumed cutting through the skin. We fully expected the crest worm to resist if it could, and estimated the thing to be at most twelve centimetres long, so I made an opening slightly longer than that so removing it would be done within a quick motion.

Partway through the movement, the blade caught something and stopped. Somehow, I knew it was the crest worm, and it took me a second before I realised that it had been the scalpel that informed me.

"It's not as deep in as expected," I announced.

I adjusted the scalpel's position and drew it along the length of the worm to expose as much of the fused muscle as I could before I held out the scalpel towards Hinode.

"Retractor, please."

Hinode took the scalpel and gave me the retractor the way I'd told her how, and I inserted it into the incision before opening it wide enough so that I could see the worm… sort of.

It wasn't obvious, but part of the muscle in the arm was… different? I couldn't tell, even with the light cast onto it.

"Forceps."

Once they were in my hand, I delicately touched the strange tissue with one of the prongs. Nothing immediately obvious happened, but that was what I hoped would happen; the forceps didn't pass through the flesh as Hinode said they should have. Without a doubt, I'd found the worm.

Then I opened the tool wide, placed the two points on either side of the impassable tissue, and gently pushed forward.

A faint glow came from the tool as the tips passed through muscle without causing damage or bleeding. There was a little resistance, and the retractor's golden features shed a little more light than a moment ago, but nothing too concerning happened. Then I gripped the worm with the forceps. It didn't react in any way to the stimulus, possibly just as numb as the rest of Dad's arm was. I made a quick mental note that anaesthetic affected crest worms.

Slowly, I began to tug on the worm, and the strange tissue twitched strangely at the movement. What had resembled muscle reasserted itself in my vision as chitin, and a pair of discoloured lines revealed themselves to be the worm's feelers. Based on what I'd seen, it was safe to guess that they had been attached to the nearby nerve.

I continued to pull it out, and it let out a shrill cry once its mouth was exposed, but the forceps did as promised and didn't allow it to escape their grip. Once it was finally free of Dad's arm, all it could do was squirm and writhe in the air.

"I know I've seen the diagrams already, but is that really their adult form?" Hinode asked in a strained whisper, obviously reacting to the rather… phallic appearance of the creature.

"It's nothing like the larva in my bedroom," I agreed.

Despite her blatant disgust, Hinode held out the empty fish tank long enough for me to carefully put the worm in. "Ewww…" she said, placing the tank back on the table and sealing it with the lid in a blatant hurry.

"That was more straightforward than I thought it would be," I said. "How do you feel, Dad?"

"Fine, actually," he said, looking at the parasite in its new glass prison. "That's Kojiro, by the way."

"It has a name?! It's a dick with teeth!"

"Even Shinji's worms want names," Dad said defensively.

"That aside, you were watching, right?" I interjected, gesturing to Hinode. "That went by much faster than I was expecting, and I'm not seeing any unexpected complications, so I'm more than pleased with the result. But you made these tools; did you see anything we should be worried about?"

Hinode let out a breath and said, "No, actually. I saw something I could tweak, namely that the retractor interpreted the forceps entering the muscle as something it shouldn't have and tried to prevent them from entering, but otherwise, you should be good to remove the other one too without any problems."

I nodded and shot Dad a look.

He also nodded. "Go ahead, Shinji."

With a final nod from me, and after removing the retractor from the weeping cut on Dad's right arm, I motioned to Hinode to move the step and trolley to the other side of the bed.

Once it was in place, I stood atop it again, and Hinode placed a clean scalpel in my waiting hand.

March 24th, 1990, 7:57 PM, Matou Residence Master Bedroom

Byakuya shifted on the bed. Wakumi had been inspecting his arms closely since the operation. The tools she'd spent so much time crafting hadn't done anything irreparable, but she wanted to make sure.

His arms should be healed completely in a few hours, so he wasn't worried about any lasting damage. The anaesthetic and the numbing effect of the enchanted thread— which he was incredibly grateful for— will have worn off when he woke up in the morning, though. They might ache slightly.

He scanned the wounds once more. The stitchings that held his wounds closed stood out in a delicate crisscross pattern against the slightly pink skin. They looked professionally done, which stirred strange feelings of pride and concern.

He'd already asked Shinji about the origins of his mysterious surgical skill, but his son was going through the same dearth of answers as he was. Questions bubbled within him, and he had half a mind to put them forward to Zouken, but the other half howled in opposition, both in fear and dismal defeatism. Byakuya wasn't sure that he'd ever have the answers he wanted.

More of the same, he supposed.

A thoughtful hum broke Byakuya out of his daze, and he spotted Wakumi writing something in her little notebook.

He knew he wouldn't actually understand the answer to his question, but his curiosity made it out of his mouth before his brain caught up. "What's so noteworthy?"

"Hmm? Oh. It's not something to worry about," Wakumi said. "Just making a comparison."

"A comparison…?"

"Between your circuits and Shinji's."

"… In that case, please share." Understanding aside, if she knew something about Shinji, then Byakuya wanted at least some context.

Wakumi looked up from her jottings and fixed him with a stare. "You know it might be little over your head, darling."

"I don't need the exacts."

"… Alright, then." Wakumi flipped through her notebook to some earlier notes. "Without the sophisticated jargon, your circuits display minor signs of things that Shinji's do. Specifically that they're crappy at generating magical energy and equally as pathetic at holding it. It's enough for me to think that he inherited the trait from you in some form. It might be a mutation that's been brewing in the Matou bloodline for a while, and Shinji is simply the first to display it to the degree that he can't use magecraft normally."

"… Our clan has been suffering from a degradation in talent. My brother is the only one that has had any natural capability in recent years," Byakuya recalled. "Zouken used to complain about my inferiority to him all the time. Maybe this mutation is the cause?"

Wakumi scowled. "He didn't blame you for it, did he?"

"No. I think he just wanted me to feel like garbage to mask his own frustration. He occasionally said it had something to do with an incompatibility with the Japanese soil."

"The… soil?"

"Yeah."

"That doesn't make any sense."

It was Byakuya's turn to frown. "You mean Zouken could be wrong about that?"

"No. I mean that when mages talk about compatibility with the land, they are usually referring to the connection that mysteries have to their foundations. For example, a curse that originated in an African country would be more potent in that country and it's surrounding regions than it would in… well, anywhere else, because that's where the ley line its foundation is carved into is. It would still work, but that's beside the point."

"So it has nothing to with the Matou's situation then?"

"If the Matou practiced African curses, sure. But you don't. What I've seen in the library and in the stuff Shinji has been translating for me indicates that Slavic Paganism and Eastern Orthodoxy are the primary foundations for the Matou spellbook. Eastern Orthodoxy is the second largest Christian Church in the world, and the Russian people ended up spreading their pagan myths and stories eastward as the country expanded— and that's a big country. Both of those foundations have presence on a huge amount of land, so even if you were on the other side of the world, mysteries based on those faiths would still be fairly effective."

Byakuya had to blink as the words failed to all stick together after he'd heard them. "… So?"

"Your clan shouldn't be in decline just because you're living in Japan. If the bagworm says that that's the reason the Matou are in decline, then he's lying." Wakumi then rolled her eyes. "Or perhaps he's just gone senile. Wouldn't surprise me."

The implication that Zouken needed to lie about something that important was not a conversation Byakuya felt like having at that moment. Instead, he asked, "What's making this mutation so much more crippling for Shinji, then?"

Wakumi performed a wild shrug and, in an immature tone, said, "I dunno."

If Byakuya had been standing, he might have fallen over.

"What?" Wakumi said incredulously. She put her notebook down on the bedside. "It's not like I have any proof of something that might have magnified whatever weird change is affecting your circuits. Circuit conditions are usually determined wholly by parentage."

… That made sense. It was why magi put so many resources into selectively breeding themselves.

It also meant that it was Byakuya's fault. And that was why Zouken did away with whoever owned that smile that still haunted him— Shinji's mother, who meant nothing more to him than a choppy memory. He didn't know if he loved them or not. Only that he'd failed them when he passed his most unforgivable flaw on to their son, who couldn't even use magecraft without converting his own nerves into fake circuits.

And that was another notch on Byakuya's tally of blunders.

When Byakuya had learned about that, he'd not understood how dangerous it was. It was only recently that Wakumi explained exactly what Shinji had been doing. His son. Toying with death, even in his cradle. He never cursed his lack of ability more than when he'd learned that.

"You look like you're thinking way too hard about something," Wakumi said.

"I think… you're right," Byakuya said.

"Right about what?"

"Shinji is the way he is because of me," Byakuya said. "It's my fault."

"Oh, Byakuya…" Wakumi bemoaned. "That's not what I meant. The differences between your circuits and Shinji's are drastic. If I had to guess as to why, then it's likely something to do with his mother. I know nothing about her, so it could be anything as simple as her possessing the same mutation to something as crazy as demonic heritage, but Shinji isn't the way he is because of just this. "

"But it still originated from me. What if our child has the same problem?"

"Our kid is not going to have the same problems that Shinji does. As I said, the difference between your circuits and Shinji's circuits is so huge that his mother must have had some specific quality that amplified whatever is happening with your circuits. Nothing about my pedigree is going to contribute negatively to this mutation— if anything, it'll counteract it. The baby is going to be fine. Seriously"— Wakumi suddenly pointed at herself dramatically— "I'm way too awesome to have a kid that isn't at least half as magnificent!"

Byakuya couldn't help it. A smile tugged his lips up before a huff broke through them. How was it that Wakumi managed to stay so confident?

"So, if you're okay with a change of topic, what did you think of how Shinji did today?" she asked suddenly.

Byakuya didn't respond to the question immediately, allowing the room to stay quiet for a few moments before he glanced at the stitching on his arms. "He was so calm," he eventually said. "I know he's been drinking mana supplements for while, but isn't it weird that the sight of an open bleeding wound wouldn't bother someone?"

Wakumi hummed at that. "Isn't it weird that a three-year-old can speak four languages and perform surgery on his own father?" she asked in response. "After Shinji asked me for help with his mana issues I felt kinda surprised by how he was for a bit, but for a while now I've kinda just learned to go with it."

"You weren't worried?"

"I was nervous about it, sure, and when Shinji first said he was going to do his own operation I think I was just as surprised as Zouken was. At the same time, though, this is the kid that tried to use low level hypnosis on me when he was two. After thinking about it, I figured that if he says he can do it, he probably can."

"You… have that much faith in him?"

Wakumi cocked her head to her left. "You don't?"

A tense sigh escaped Byakuya as he realised that she was right. Of course she was. "Well, I suppose I have no reason to doubt if he can do this anymore."

"It's not like you did the wrong thing," Wakumi said with a chuckle. "Parents aren't supposed to let their kids play wth sharp objects. Your doing your job."

Byakuya smiled at her. "That just means you're a terrible influence on him."

"Yeah, yeah, you always say that," Wakumi giggled. "You love me though."

Byakuya grinned cheekily at her. "I do."

Wakumi went red-faced and flicked her eyes about the room in a fluster.

So cute.

"Um… by the way, I'm gonna need to have a look at… those two." Wakumi said, pointing at the glass tank in the corner of the room holding Musashi and Kojiro.

"… To make sure that Shinji's surgery doesn't do anything harmful to his worms, right?" Byakuya guessed.

"Yup. Are they… safe to handle? I'm not looking forward to touching them."

Byakuya tightened his face a little in thought. "Actually, they should be okay with me picking them up, so I can do that for you if you like."

"Oh, if your okay with that then please, please, please don't make me touch them."

"Alright," Byakuya said. "I might not see them again afterwards, and I've had them even before Kariya left. Spent a long time chatting with them. I got a little attached."

"Nice pun."

"Uh… not intended."

"Yeah, sure," Wakumi said with a laugh. "And thanks."

March 27th, 1990, 11:49 PM, Fuyuki City

The meat bent and tore. The worms shoved their way into the arteries and veins and sucked the precious liquid from the convulsing flesh. Bones were split, and marrow was chewed and dissolved. Skin bulged and writhed as the things beneath cleared out new space in the unfortunate host.

No orifice went unfilled, hundreds of nerves lit up in a horrific rapture, and the soul fought to cry out in terror as coercive sorcery ceased to grip their mind as soon as it wasn't necessary. Yet their voice came not. No vocal cords could move in their throat as the creatures filed in and devoured them.

The paltry resistance ended, and a formless lump of a body remained squirming on the ground of the otherwise vacant roadside park as it squelched and creaked and snapped into a new shape.

Hesitantly, Zouken stood, finding balance on his feet as he slowly acclimated to the new vessel. He didn't quite look like himself yet. The eyes were taking a little bit longer than before. As were the hands. He'd given up on recovering his hair long ago.

It was sooner than the last had been, once again. Five years and a month, as opposed to the previous five years and eight months. The time between the necessary acquisition of new bodies had been shrinking. This was already a problem, but now Zouken was worried. If he didn't exacerbate the issue, he'd be lucky to last another century.

That meant two more chances, at best.

Zouken groaned in discomfort as he leaned forward on his cane. There was an unfortunate patch of blood seeping into the soil beneath him. He'd been sloppy. Once he'd settled into form, he'd wave it away with a spell. No need for the police to waste their time searching the area when they wouldn't find anything.

Idly, he sought out the perspective of his familiars and conducted a methodical scan of the city to pass the time. The nightlife was as rife with chaos as it always had been. Buildings were lit sparsely depending on whether or not someone was awake or working at the late hour, and women were harassed by small groups of irresponsible and tipsy young men who thought it the height of freedom to drink on a Tuesday evening.

"Hmph. Freedom…" the elder huffed derisively.

The worms present in the Matou household showed Shinji to be sound asleep. The discoloured hair growing on the back of the boy's head was particularly distinct, even in the dark, and at this angle, Zouken could only barely see the gentle movements that indicated breath. The boy's performance the other day had been mildly interesting, and Zouken had commanded Musashi and Kojiro to remain where they were for the foreseeable future.

… Oh, he'd used the names.

Was senility knocking on the boundaries of his mind again?

Focus.

He searched the structure and found Byakuya sitting upright in his bed. The lout was reading a book from the library, one Zouken knew to cover a few of the more intermediate magecraft fundamentals. It was a decade and a half too late for him to prove himself useful beyond plain errands, but seeing him put a sliver of effort into improving his magical capabilities wasn't unwelcome.

And then there was the woman. She was in her workshop, operating a magic circle of some nature that depicted the far eastern elements. A closer look determined it to be the sort one would use to manually operate a familiar. An old methodology. More analogue and mechanical than the will-based manner Zouken operated his worms. He could respect that.

"Seems you've managed to put yourself back together."

The voice belonged to the woman.

A glance to the right revealed a metallic object, gyroscopic in its form, hovering at head level at the entrance to the small park.

"You look much better than you did three days ago, Bagworm-san." The voice emanated from the object as a faint light fluctuated in synchronicity. "I'll admit, I didn't have you pegged as a cannibal."

"Don't be ridiculous," Zouken said. He did not eat people. He did not eat that person. He merely fed them to the blood worms and made appropriate use of what was left behind. Him? A cannibal? How rude…

"Oh? Then what was it that I just had the misfortune of witnessing, if not one person consuming another?"

Zouken did not see any need to explain himself and so remained silent. He let his countenance display his distaste, though.

"Okay then, different question; why do you need to take other people's bodies for your own?"

… Well, it seems that he truly did not need to explain himself. The woman had stepped over his expectations once again to have deciphered that much of his nature.

He allowed himself a chuckle and said, "Is that not obvious? I no longer have a body of my own."

"… How long have you been doing this?"

"Long enough," he rasped angrily.

The metal familiar bobbed as she let silence be her initial response, followed by, "… I'm sorry."

Zouken glared curiously at the familiar. Not even for a moment had he expected a shred of sympathy for his state, and he was unsure if it brought him any comfort or not.

… Actually, he felt a little disconcerted.

"How did you lose it? Your body?" the woman asked.

The question sounded sincere. Or, the desire for the answer it would unearth must have been. However, it provided an opportunity to cast aside her baffling condolences, and Zouken wouldn't waste it.

"Nothing pitiable. I was not grievously injured, or cursed beyond recovery," the elder began. "I simply feared the ravages of time."

Another silence punctuated that last word.

"You mean you did this to yourself? Because you got old?" the woman said. Her surprise was apparent in her tone. There was no need to peer at her through his familiar to notice.

"Yes." The word rang out of his mouth bitterly.

"Don't tell me you wanted to live forever."

"The goal was to live forever," Zouken said blatantly. "My ageing reflection and the ache of the decades in my joints tormented me. I mourned how little time I had left, and I wanted to become immortal. So I devised a spell and became a parasite, stealing the bodies of others to extend my lifespan."

"… It doesn't seem like you got the intended result. It must suck being immortal when your already super old."

Zouken laughed at the absurdity of the statement. "Keheheha! Immortal? How could anyone look upon this rotting form and think I've achieved eternity? Bah!" he scoffed. "I may have delayed death, but it pursues me just as it does everyone else. For humans, proper immortality falls within the realm of the impossible; no trifling magecraft is potent enough to reach it. We all rot in the end— even our souls— and only True Magic can dissuade that."

Such was the way of things. His soul rotted more and more the longer he clung to life. A curse he had inflicted upon himself. The inescapable reality of his humanity, his folly, and his shame.

"So you didn't know it was impossible to become immortal when you turned yourself into worms?" the woman asked.

Zouken huffed in acknowledgement. "No, I did not. I learned the limitations of the human soul much too late. It didn't matter how young the body I took was. Every time I only became an old man. As I said, even our souls rot, so I remain tormented by my seniority, and despite my efforts I am not immortal."

"So why keep going?"

Zouken looked up at the familiar with a glare. "What was that?"

"Oh, no, don't misunderstand," the woman began, "I don't mean to sound like I want you gone or anything. It's just that the idea of living as long as you have in a body so old that it hurts… I don't think I'd be able to go on for very long like that. Why not let it all end?"

An irate sigh broke free of Zouken as he lowered his head. "True, I am in a great deal of pain. I hate being what I am, and I regret that I did it to myself. But… when the end approaches and I can feel my body falling apart faster and faster… even tonight, I could have left it all behind and never felt this ceaseless pain for even a single second, yet I offered another soul in my place, as I have every time. I am no better than any other desperate fool when confronted with death."

The woman hummed thoughtfully. "… I wasn't expecting you to be so humble about it."

The elder sighed. "I suppose humility is one of the only things I have left. When I became like this I thought I would live forever. How naive I was…"

He remembered feeding his body to the worms, making them his new form. The creatures were to be his new organs. Replaceable parts that could be could be grown and cultivated eternally.

He believed he had achieved everlasting life. Never again would he feel the aches of age. His determination was inflamed by confidence, and half a century was lived drunk on success.

Then, the one part he could never replace began to falter, and the illusion was broken by the rot.

The glow of the woman's familiar broke Zouken's reminiscence when it reflected off the unsightly puddle at his feet. He struck the partly coagulated liquid once with the foot of his cane, and it rippled in response before it sank into the dirt, hidden from whoever would pass by in the morning.

The woman hummed a second time, and the familiar's light flickered once again as it swayed in place, as though it was trying to express the deep thoughts of its wielder without the flexibility of a human face. "So what's your goal, now that you've failed to become immortal?"

Zouken felt a pressing need to correct that assumption. "I haven't failed," he said aggressively. "Not yet."

The familiar's swaying halted. "You sound pretty certain about that. Do you think you have the means to bring about True Magic now?"

"Yes. In fact, the opportunity for such a thing approaches quickly." Zouken smiled. He saw exactly where to steer this conversation. "The Holy Grail War."

The woman said nothing for a few moments, and Zouken took great pleasure in her silence.

"I know that Shinji informed you of it," he added.

"… He did," she replied. "You mean to use the wish to some effect?"

"Ah, yes. The wish." Zouken chuckled softly. "While the Holy Grail can grant such pittances, that particular function was always better used as bait to attract lesser magi and even the Heroic Spirits themselves into participating. The Holy Grail War… it is also called the Heaven's Feel ritual. When completed properly, it is a means to reacquire the Third Magic. I would use it to free myself of this… rot, and truly become immortal."

"It sounds like you've put a lot of thought into this. You wouldn't need any help with it, then." The woman's attempt to avoid the discussion was transparent.

Zouken would press through her dismissiveness.

"Actually, I will need some assistance. You now know how decrepit I am. I might be able to maintain a Servant as I am now— and I have in the past— but I would only be an inadequate Master." He shook his head regretfully. "I'd actually given up on the Matou participating in the Fourth Holy Grail War, because until recently I didn't have anyone competent enough to rely on."

"… I see," the woman said. "To be honest, I had a feeling you'd try to get me involved. This is just confirmation, really."

"You don't need to put it like that," Zouken said. "It's only a simple request."

"It's not like you're going to give me any choice in the matter. List your threats already so neither of us confuse the stakes."

Zouken had to chuckle at her bravado. He knew that if he'd been watching her through his familiar's vision, he would have seen her eyes roll in discontent. "Now, now, there's no need for that. I was just asking. If you don't want to, that's fine for now."

"… Eh?"

"Can't an old man ask for help?" The elder raised an eyebrow before he sighed dramatically. "You were expecting me to browbeat you into doing as I asked, perhaps? I don't blame you for thinking that way, given how our first agreement played out."

"I don't get it." There was a noticeable flare of suspicion in her voice. "What's your angle, Bagworm-san?"

"I'm just being polite. There's no hurry, after all."

The familiar in front of him had a few parts that resembled gears, and he could almost envision such things turning fiercely in the woman's mind.

His civil manner was false, of course. He would most certainly utilise the unborn child as collateral in the future if he needed to secure her cooperation. But he wasn't lying; there was no hurry. The war would occur in over four years, which was plenty of time for him to convince her to play her role in it. Threatening her would be easier, but he would prefer it if he didn't need to resort to that.

She'd been an unexpectedly valuable boon. The woman's understanding of enchantments and mystic codes had taught Zouken things that he may never have learned alone, and her efforts to solve Shinji's defect with that same skill were promising. The fact that it had already proven capable of undoing the elder's earlier blunder with the crest worms was a welcome relief.

The improvements in Byakuya's behaviour weren't unpleasant, either. Zouken would not miss the scent of cheap alcohol, and while he did not eat often, he did appreciate a decent plate of food. The fool's culinary efforts had been surprisingly consistent in that regard.

… Wednesday was a notable exception.

All taken into account, it would not be remiss of Zouken to tolerate the woman's presence with the Matou on a more permanent basis. She seemed to value the prospect of living with them to some degree, and if she willingly aided the elder in pursuing his desires, then returning the favour would only be fair.

Equivalent exchange was one of the basics, after all.

"Well, since you're giving me the freedom of choice here, I may as well ask you for more information," the woman said.

"You want to know more about the Holy Grail War?"

"Yeah, there's a lot I'd like to know that isn't really covered by any of the texts you've got in the library. And why read a book when I could ask witness? You've lived through some of them haven't you? Understanding the nature of the ritual or even just its history would help me make up my mind, you know?"

She wanted her decision to be an informed one. Zouken didn't really benefit from any kind of ignorance on her part, so her questions would be harmless.

"I have seen all iterations of the Holy Grail War. You won't find a better source," he said as he adjusted his posture. "Ask."

"The Third Magic. Heaven's Feel. As far as I'm aware, it concerns the Materialisation of the Soul. Is there anything you can tell me about the Third Magic that I might not know?"

"I can give you a short summary of its effects, certainly. Whoever it is used on will transcend, and their modified soul will become immune to the natural dispersion that occurs upon losing its physical body. The end result is a higher-dimensional being with perfect immortality and unlimited magical energy. It is the only way human beings can achieve unconditional immortality." Zouken hummed as his explanation brought some of the past back to him. "Such was taught to me during my time at the Clocktower, and it definitely came up in conversation occasionally after I began to work with the Einzbern. They were more obsessed with it back then."

"And the Servant Summon ritual that the Holy Grail supports is somehow an attempt at recreating that?"

Zouken shook his head. "Who told you that the Servant Summon Ritual is an imitation of the Third Magic?"

"Shinji-kun seemed to think that was the case."

"Ah, I see. He is partially correct, to a point. The ritual uses some elements of the Third Magic in the summoning, but it is mostly derived from the one used to summon proper Heroic Spirits that only the planet can perform."

The familiar was silent for a moment, and Zouken could only hear faint noises coming from it. Curious, he peered through his familiar into the room the woman occupied and saw that she had begun pacing around and rubbing her fingers into her temples.

She stopped and turned back to her circle. "Why are the Servants part of the ritual?"

"They are collected in one of the ritual pieces— the Lesser Grail— which contains them until enough have been gathered for the Greater Grail to be operated. Five or six of them will be sufficient if one intends to make use of the wish, but if all seven Servants are killed, then they create the conditions necessary to open the path to Akasha."

"… Three different magi families actually cooperated in building a path to the Root?"

Zouken had to admit it sounded somewhat novel when put like that.

"So why was it designed as a competiti—?" The woman cut herself off. "Actually, never mind. It wasn't supposed to be fought over."

"No, it wasn't designed as a conflict," Zouken said with a sigh. "The First Holy Grail War wasn't so much of a war as much as it was an argument. It wasn't even called the Holy Grail War at the time. Three of the Masters were the Tohsaka and Einzbern representatives alongside myself. It was our ritual, but we had a… puerile disagreement when it was revealed that only one person could use the Holy Grail at a time. The other four Masters were merely there to act as witnesses and anchors for the required Servants, but our squabbling emboldened them. They tried to capitalise on it to fulfil their own wants."

"It became a free-for-all for the chance at Akasha?"

"Not quite. The other four Masters didn't know about that particular function, and instead aimed to claim the wish. The ritual failed in the end, but the component pieces were still operable, and would be ready to use again in just over half a century. We agreed to make another attempt, and even acknowledged that we couldn't resolve our childish argument. In the end, we created… something resembling rules of engagement that would decide who would make use the Holy Grail."

The woman said nothing and laughed instead.

Zouken harrumphed at her boldness but acknowledged that it was clear how that played out.

"Your tone said it all when you referred to those 'rules'. Magi are predictable; it was a bloodbath, wasn't it?"

"Mmm. Every single Master perished within a few days, and the original Tohsaka residence was reduced to ash. That's when we started calling it the Holy Grail War."

"You didn't participate yourself?"

"I had converted myself to worms by that point, and I was experiencing the consequences of my actions for the first time." Zouken groaned in frustration. "If my body hadn't faltered at the time, I would have been a Master then. Another of the Matou fought in my place. They died second to last, and the would-be victor died mere moments after."

"… You mean you turned yourself into worms between the First and Second Holy Grail Wars?"

Zouken cocked his head before he nodded. "That… is correct. It was shortly after the First Holy Grail War that I surrendered my original body and became what I am now. But whether or not I participated does not really matter, does it?"

"Hmm… maybe not…"

As the woman again fell into silence again, Zouken thought that perhaps she had run out of questions. "If that will be all—"

"How's good is your memory?"

Zouken almost didn't want to grace that with a response. "That does not pertain to the Holy Grail War."

"Hey, I know it's not really any of my business—"

"It isn't."

"— whether or not your brain still works properly or not, but did you forget that I can't read Russian?"

Zouken frowned.

Of what significance was that? None.

Why would it even matter? It doesn't.

Why did she even ask? I don't know.

In the end, he failed to fend off his own curiosity. "What do you mean?"

"You had me fetch all of those journals about the crest worms when I asked about them, right? Well, I had to pay Shinji-kun to translate the passages I needed."

The books from… his study?

The ones concerning the biology of the crest worms. Needed for the mystic codes the woman was forging to be capable of removing the worms from Byakuya. That operation was necessary to allow Shinji to demonstrate the skill to perform such a procedure on himself without risk.

He had given her permission to read those… and they were, in fact, written in Russian.

… Wait a moment.

"You gave those to Shinji?" Zouken asked.

A strange noise came through the device. "Well it's not like I could read them myself, and he understands the value of keeping mysteries a secret. If you're worried about either of us prying too far into your clan's mysteries, don't be. They're his mysteries to inherit in the first place, and I'm not interested in getting to know the dick worms any further than I already do. Shinji will tell you the same thing if you ask."

The elder had to concede to those points. They were correct. Any mysteries would have been taught to Shinji at some point, and the woman's distaste for his familiars was unmistakable.

Had he truly forgotten she couldn't read the Cyrillic alphabet when he outlined those books for her?

Ah… of course, she could not read Russian. She'd already told him the extent of her multilingualism not long after she'd arrived. Chinese. Japanese. English. Hindi. Mongolian. Vietnamese.

Not Russian.

It had slipped his mind, as she suggested.

… That wasn't condemning, though. It did him no harm to admit it.

"I did forget that you could not read Russian," Zouken said. "My age has dulled my memory, and I do lapse occasionally."

"Alright, and, just to make sure, you wouldn't have told a lie about anything we just spoke about, right?"

Lie? What lie? He'd been nothing but honest with the woman. "I have not lied to you."

"Hmm… then I believe you." The woman hummed again. "Okay. So you might have forgotten that too."

" 'That'…?" Zouken did not like where this conversation was going. "What else do you think that I forgot, exactly?"

"What the Third Magic does."

"Eh…? Ka—! Haha!" Zouken was so surprised he was actually amused. "You suspect that I've forgotten the function of the Third Magic?! Kahaha! Don't make an old man laugh his lungs raw! Ha!"

"Well it's that or the reason you turned yourself into worms."

Zouken's laughter ended with a raspy, deep and harsh noise that masqueraded as a sigh. "That's just as preposterous if not more. I became worms. To think that I might have forgotten why is ridiculous."

But her words were grating on him. He'd lamented his flawed recollections not too long ago, and what she was suggesting sparked something uncomfortable in his—

No. Absolutely not.

Zouken would not entertain that thought.

"You said that you turned yourself into worms in order to become immortal, right?"

"That's correct."

"And before you started to rot, as you so eloquently put it, you honestly believed that you had achieved that?"

"Yes…" Zouken was frowning again. "Where are you going with this?"

"And you did that after the First Holy Grail War, which would have informed you of the functions of the Third Magic. The only method of achieving perfect immortality. Right?"

He attempted immortality with the worms after he…?

— It was shortly after the First Holy Grail War that I surrendered my original body and became what I am now.

Yes. He hadn't known at the time that his soul would rot—

— I learned the limitations of the human soul much too late.

And because of that—

— When I became like this I thought I would live forever.

That's why he needed the Third Magic, it was—

— it is the only way human beings can achieve unconditional immortality. Such was taught to me during my time at the Clocktower, and it definitely came up in conversation occasionally after I began to work with the Einzbern.

That had been… before…

Zouken involuntarily took a deep breath.

No.

No.

That meant that he'd forgotten. He hadn't.

But he'd contradicted himself. He couldn't have.

He hadn't told her any lies. That's right. He hadn't lied.

It must be tr— That must mean she's wrong. She's wrong!

"I see," the woman interrupted his thoughts. "So that begs the question, doesn't it? Which did you forget? The Third Magic, or the reason you became worms?"

Zouken held back a snarl. "I know what the Third Magic does."

"Then if you forgot why you became what you are, what was the real reason you turned yourself into worms?"

The real—? Zouken had already blinked the astonishment off of his face, but he couldn't stop it from burrowing into his mind like one of his worms. "I did not forget. I told you; I did not want to die, and I sought to avert it. That was the real reason," he reiterated.

It was. I did not forget.

"So you did something completely horrendous to yourself in order to achieve something that you should have already known was impossible, and you thought you'd succeeded?"

"Yes. I remember. I remember believing I had achieved exactly what I had set out to do."

I did not forget.

"… Which was?"

"I did it to become immortal!" Zouken tried to stamp down the foot of his cane to punctuate the declaration, but his arms did not obey him. "I have not forgotten. I simply did not realise my own shortcomings at the time."

I did not forget!

"Is it really so strange to think that you forgot?" Was the woman responding to his thoughts? No. His glower. She was not in his head. "It's not completely unreasonable to think you might not remember something that happened, uh… how long ago…?"

It's nearly been two hundred years. The detail crossed Zouken's mind, but he dared not utter it.

Then he finally thought to recompose himself— to pull himself together. Some of him needed to do that literally. The worms that made up his body had become confused in his distracted state. He could focus his irritation on taking back control of the situation once he calmed down and reordered himself.

The woman's familiar was just in front of him now. "It must have been a long time ago that you actually went through with it," her voice chimed through it along with that offensive light. "I wouldn't be surprised if you had memory issues, and there's no shame in that."

It seemed that Zouken had failed to alleviate the woman of the pity she'd found for him. He may have even made it worse.

Zouken successfully brought himself back together for the second time that night. "I'm not forgetful enough that something as important as my motivations for becoming the rotting husk that I am would slip my mind," he said.

"But by that point you knew it was imposs—"

"That's enough!" Zouken raised one hand from his cane. "Whatever the case, only the Holy Grail can restore me. I only need to know whether or not you are willing to act as a Master in the next Holy Grail War."

The unbearable gyroscope with the painful glimmer in the centre did not respond.

"You may take some time to think about it… Hinode," he allowed. Just leave.

Yet another moment of silence passed before she spoke.

"Since your obviously want an out to the conversation, I'll go. I should bring my familiar back." The gyroscopic device spun as it began to fly away. "See you later, Bagworm-san."

Finally.

His hand came to the side of his head, and he leant into it with a moan.

Ah.

Already, Zouken's body was beginning to rot.

He couldn't keep his thoughts settled after that. He was tired. It had been a long time since he had slept. Sleep. He should go to sleep.

Everything will make sense in the morning.

But he felt a great desire to rifle through his journals. The earliest ones. Even though he knew he wouldn't find anything in them— I did not forget— and pour over them until this ache in his neck and his head and his gut…

I did not forget.

The park was empty, save for the stench of death.

A/N

Hiya. Been a while.

Really glad I managed to eke this thing out. When August started, I was all like, "wow I'm lazy. Imma get this done before October at least" And I tried. Genuinely.

But the last scene here left me mentally exhausted trying to put it together multiple times over the past few weeks. I got stuck badly. Trying to use Zouken's perspective and logic out that contradiction from Hinode's at the same time was gnarly radical on the brain bits, especially since I needed to make sure that the dialogue flowed naturally into it instead of just… dropping the revelation in like an amateur.

Turns out, writing about the memory flaws of an ageing man in denial is hard. Go figure.

… At least I'm writing again.

I got a job too, so there's that. Guess who has a salary?

Answer: Me.

*fanfare*

Review Responses:

Mister Grin:

Word counts haunt all writers. Even the ones that don't care about them. This one is just over 13000. Grammarly struggled to process it so I had to do it scene by scene. Yay.

Slavicadonis:

I really hope your enthusiasm survived the wait for this one.

hello:

I'm glad you liked it.

Morbidly-A-Beast:

This one's still fresh!

Louuuiii:

Okay, so (according to the sacred lore pages of the Type-Moon Wiki) humans only have three Factors, which are Body, Mind, and Soul. Given that Shinji's still just a regular human with bad circuits and worms in his guts, he's probably just going to have those three. If anyone is giving other Factors to their human characters in their fanfics, then you have my permission to look down your nose upon them and address them as the mongrels that they are.

*sounds of "Zasshu!" in the distance*

Also, Shirou-harem stories are for the WEAK! Shinji-harem is where it's at! Seaweed for everyone!

(Disclaimer - Shinji's Paradox is not a harem story.)

Issei… is definitely a character I glossed over. Part of this story is going to happen in Ryuudou Temple (at the end of arc two, a long time from now), so he'll probably show up there.

And I'm so sorry for making you wait.

Nik Hin:

Being Matou is suffering.

Bluecore:

I'm sorry I made you wait, too. Hell, I'm sorry I made myself wait.

TheBluMonki:

Did I ever say Shinji was the best Surgeon in Japan? Shinji might have, but he's a narcissist, you really can't take his boasts at face value. Even if he's beating himself up. (Don't worry, he's talented and knows what he's doing.)

Imai's going to be fun to write in the next fifteen chapters or so, and the ten years between UBW and SP are going to come up in flashbacks. Don't worry. I'll get around to it. (Probably.)

Kariya's got something important to do in the future. *wink*

Niralam:

I'm glad you like the premise. And like I told TheBluMonki above, there will be some insight into the events of the Old Causality.

And as far as I'm aware, Shinji never got worms in any canon timeline. Zouken, canonically, for all his evil evilness, is actually fond of both of his grandchildren. He just expresses it the way that Magi do, which sucks for them. He thanks Shirou for giving Sakura a taste of happiness in the Heaven's Feel route, and as far as I can tell he means it.

I have to thank you for your suggestions for worm names too. I'm not using yours, but you kickstarted my actual thought process for it, and now I have my worm names ready to go. I hinted at it earlier in this chapter too.

And if you think Hinode's situation is tragic… Let's just say I'm not even getting started. Zouken is a complicated and nuanced antagonist, and I plan on abusing the hell out of his character's potential. You got a taste of that in this chapter.

sakii137:

The worms are fun. I can't wait to do more with them.

PheonixX09:

Behold the grand continuation!

That's all the reviews!

If you spot any typos or bad bits of grammar, don't hesitate to let me know. I like ironing them out.

Also, if you want an update on Chapter Progress for this story, check my profile. I update it every now and then.

For other things, just send me a PM.

Peace!

- GEOD

Edit 1: Jan 2023 update. Adjusted some wording to account for my freshly drawn map of the Matou Residence.