Fate: Hammer Time

by TedTheRabbit

Shirou Emiya wanted to become a hero. That was clear to all who truly know him. For a long time though, he lacked the power to actually achieve that goal. No longer. No longer will he lack the power, now that the Hammer of the Odinson has chosen him as new wielder. Prepare for Thunder. ShirouxMultiple, Thor-Shirou.

10. Going to Town

Going to Town

---

Illyasviel von Einzbern was not a happy little girl.

At first sight, such a statement would seem ridiculous. If one would look through her personal room at that moment, one would never guess that she was living a miserable life. The room was positively ornate. There were several large mirrors clad with gold, desks that seemed to be made from the most expensive of woods, closets that were filled to the brim with the most stylish of clothes, expensive little trinkets thrown about everywhere, and even the walls themselves were covered in gold and silver.

But as was so often the case, appearances were deceiving. Illya could have had all the riches of the world and it would not have changed a thing, for no amount of riches would save her from the blinding pain she was suffering.

Illya was in agony. It was unbearable. It was present in every aspect of her being. She was physically in pain, mentally in pain, and her heart ached like someone had stabbed a dagger into it and was now twisting that dagger with glee.

The physical pain actually hurt the least, for it was something she was already quite used to. It was caused by an operation she'd just suffered through, and operations were a dime a dozen for her.

She was supposed to become the perfect Master in the next Grail War, someone who could win that accursed cup for the Einzbern once and for all, and being the perfect Master required extensive magical power, which had motivated her grandfather to order her to be filled to the brim with Magic Circuits.

And of course, because her family was completely horrid, they put those Circuits into her through cruel operations, for which she wasn't sedated at all.

The mental attacks were just as horrible. The constant manipulation they subjected her to was wearing down at her mind, slowly driving her to madness. They were trying to make her into nothing more than a doll, like one of the more primitive Homunculi, and the methods they had chosen for that were astoundingly cruel.

But both the physical pain from the operations and the mental pain from the manipulations were nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to the pain in her heart, the pain of knowing that the only ones who had ever loved her had abandoned her years ago.

Her mother. Her father.

Irisviel von Einzbern and Emiya Kiritsugu had not been perfect parents by any definition of the word, but they had treated her like a person, which made them infinitely superior to the rest of the Einzbern when it came to raising a child.

They support and love, clumsy as it had been sometimes, had given Illya the strength to last in the Einzbern-castle. Their constant presence had made her life bearable, and sometimes even more than that. They had made life fun.

The Fourth Holy Grail War had ruined it all however. Her mother had been forced to become the Lesser Grail, which was the fate that also awaited Illya herself during the next War, while her father…

Her father had abandoned her. He'd had the Grail in his grasp, but had ordered his Servant to destroy it, for no other reason than to spite the Einzbern and spit on his wife's sacrifice.

He had betrayed the family, and then he had abandoned Illya, replacing her with a son while leaving her in the claws of the Einzbern, forgetting all about her as he build a new life for himself.

That was what hurt her most of all. That her father, the person she loved most in the world, had left her behind without as much as a glance backwards.

By all accounts, she should have hated him, despised him even, but she didn't. She couldn't. He was her father and she loved him. Hating the boy he had adopted, Emiya Shirou, was much easier in comparison, and it was something she indulged in quite often these days.

She was about to sink into another fantasy of tearing the boy limb from limb, which was basically her 'happy place' these days, when the world suddenly decided to throw her a bone.

'BANG'

Illya just about jumped out of her skin when the door of her room was slammed open, and two figures walked in like they owned the place.

"Young miss Illya, you shouldn't just lie in bed all day!" One of the figures scolded her. "You know the best thing to do after an operation is to stay busy."

"Sella! Leysritt!" Illya smiled brightly at the figures, who were quickly revealed to be Homunculi just like her, though a little older in appearance.

They had the characteristic white hair and red eyes that every Homunculus in the castle had, but they could be distinguished from the others by the slightly different maid-uniforms they wore, signifying they were Illya's personal servants.

They had been created only a year or so ago, but they were already very close to Illya, closer than their makers had ever intended for them to become. They were supposed to be loyal above all else to the Einzbern-family, but Illya liked to think they were actually more loyal to her personally.

It was without a doubt that the maids were her favourite people in the castle. True, their only competition for her favour was a gathering of power-hungry, selfish, and narcissistic Magi, but still.

Sella, with her mothering and always concerned attitude, was Illya's unofficial big sister. While being cold and distant on the outside, she hid a demure person inside that actually wanted to have a lot of friends.

Leysritt on the other hand was Illya's unofficial little sister, with her ditzy behaviour and her tendency to say everything she thought of out loud and unfiltered.

Their antics never failed to amuse her, no matter in how bad a mood she was, and bantering with them was a great distraction, one she gratefully welcomed.

"I know I should stay busy, Sella." She grumbled in response to the woman's earlier statement, getting up from the bed to sit down on the chair at her make-up table. "But it's difficult to stay busy when I'm alone in here."

Sella's eyes softened at that, and Leysritt reached out to pat Illya on her head.

"We know, mistress. I am terribly sorry that we are so late, but we had to help clean up the garden after young sir Remas blew a crater in it while practicing his Magecraft." Sella said, bowing in apology.

Illya's eyes widened at hearing the latest stunt the heir of the Einzbern had pulled today, barely suppressing a giggle at the mental image of Remas, the sadistic, mean-spirited brat that he was, blowing himself up.

"That's quite alright." She chirped, her mood having improved already. "Now come over here and comb my hair, I always look like such a mess after an operation, and what they make of my hair afterwards is just terrible. It's like they don't know how to make anything pretty."

"Because they are all ugly." Leysritt suddenly interjected, closing her eyes and nodding her head, as if imparting sagely wisdom to younger students, in a voice that was so perfectly deadpan that Illya had no choice but to laugh.

"Leysritt!" Sella exclaimed, pressing a hand to her mouth in shock at her sister's words. "You shouldn't say such things. What if they heard you? You know how petty they all are! You will be scrapped for sure!"

"Petty and ugly." Leysritt nodded, now patting Sella on her head, an approving smile on her face, eliciting a frustrated growl from her older sister.

It was all Illya could do to stop herself from bursting out into laughter now, desperately trying to hold back her giggles as she held both hands against her stomach.

"Stop it, please." She wheezed. "It hurts! It hurts if I laugh!"

"I hardly see what's funny here, mistress." Sella huffed, grabbing the comb. "Leysritt should watch her tongue and you shouldn't encourage her."

"But it's funny." Illya protested. "And no one ever comes here anyway, so no one will hear her either. Keep saying funny things."

The last sentence was directed at Leysritt herself, who nodded obediently.

"Mistress." Sella hissed angrily, while starting to comb Illya's hair. "You know my sister tends to always speak her mind. Even if there's no risk of anyone overhearing her here, doesn't mean she won't say something similar elsewhere."

Illya, who had just leaned back to fully enjoy Sella's slow, methodical brushing, frowned. She had to admit she had not thought of that. Something had to be done immediately.

She pointed her finger at Leysritt, who blinked once in apparent surprise.

"Leysritt." Illya began in a commanding voice, ready to lay down the law. "You can only say funny things when there's no one else around, understood?"

Leysritt nodded, looking as serious as ever, and Illya turned around to give Sella a proud smile, only to find the more mature homunculus palming her face in consternation.

"I suppose that's the most I'm going to get." The maid sighed, before continuing the brushing of Illya's hair.

"Sella." Leysritt suddenly murmured, looking at her sister with urgency in her eyes. Sella didn't seem to understand for a moment, before her eyes widened and she almost dropped the comb from her hands.

"Sella?" Illya asked in concern.

"My deepest apologies, mistress." Sella bowed frantically. "But we have not yet finished cleaning up the garden. We had permission from Lord Jubstacheit to inform you about our delay, but we had to return at once after that. I forgot about it completely. Please forgive me."

Illya blinked at the maid, before her face contorted in sadness as she understood what Sella was trying to say.

"You have to leave already?" She asked, giving her best pout, hoping to guilt them into staying somewhat longer, or at least, into promising they'd be back soon.

"Not by choice." Sella frantically assured her, fully caving in to Illya's expression. "We'll be back as soon as possible, and then we'll be around for the entire day, I promise."

"Alright!" Illya chirped, her bad mood disappearing like snow on a hot day, and her pout immediately made place for a beaming smile. "Be back soon! I love you!"

"I love you too, mistress." Leysritt smiled brightly as well.

"U-Ugh." Sella on the other hand gritted her teeth and turned half away. "D-Don't say such stupid things!"

Then the mature maid marched away, pausing only to grab Leysritt and drag her along, not looking back even once. Leysritt waved Illya goodbye though, and Illya herself made sure to wave back, keeping a smile on her face the entire time.

Only for it to drop once the maids were gone. Her distraction was no longer present, and the pain returned in full. She wasn't about to start moping on her bed again though, so she looked around for something to do, to occupy her mind.

Her search was interrupted however by a very large yawn, and then another a few seconds later, and then a third.

"Aaaaaaaaahn."

Feeling incredibly drowsy all of a sudden, Illya yawned at least three more times after that. She found herself tired. Not just tired as in 'I want to sleep', but tired as in 'I am going to fall asleep in a few seconds no matter what happens'.

Well, excellent, she'd sleep until her maids returned.

She stood up from her chair, almost falling over as the world spun in front of her eyes. She half-walked, half-stumbled to her bed, and she only just made it before her eyes fell shut.

Everything went dark, and her thoughts slipped away…

...

"Oh! Look, Illya. I found another one."

The white-haired girl opened her eyes again at the sound of the strangely familiar voice, blinking in confusion as she saw trees pass her by on both sides.

That was odd. She could have sworn she was sitting still on something, not walking forward. A quick look down though revealed the cause of her mobility.

She was just sitting on her father's neck, being carried through the woods on one of their hunts for walnuts, nothing unusual-

Wait! Wait, wait, wait! Her father?!

Illya looked down again, confident her eyes had fooled her the first time…

Nope, Kiritsugu was still there, looking around for more walnuts.

For a moment, Illya felt utter joy at the sight of her father, at the fact that he hadn't abandoned her after all, before realising that it was probably nothing more than a strangely vivid dream. She remembered falling asleep, and there was no logical sequence of events that could have led from her lying in bed to her and her father being out of the castle on a walk.

Nevertheless, she kept her eyes on her father, determined to take advantage of the dream as much as possible-

"Don't just look at daddy, Illyasviel. Keep looking for those little brown things. We cannot lose against him again." Another very familiar voice suddenly said.

The white-haired girl jerked around at the sound, eliciting a shocked cry from her father who almost found himself strangled by her legs. Illya didn't pay attention to him however, for right there, standing only a few yards away from them, was no one else than Irisviel von Einzbern.

It was undoubtedly her, and though Illya was delighted to see the woman again, it was also the final confirmation that she was merely dreaming. Her mother was dead after all.

Illya refused to let that dampen her spirits though. Yes, her parents weren't actually here, but if her brain was kind enough to construct a dream-image like this, she was going to milk it for all it was worth.

She would start by winning this little game. Even in a dream, she could not let papa defeat her, so she got down from his back to look for walnuts by herself.

But no matter how much she looked, neither she nor her parents managed to find another. It was like they had disappeared after her father had found the last one, putting him ahead of her and mama by one.

"Oof." She grumbled eventually. "Looks like you win, papa. I can't find any of them anymore."

Seriously, who was stealing the walnuts? Was it grandfather? It was grandfather, no doubt about it.

Her father laughed softly in response.

"No reason to worry." He assured her, holding out a walnut to her. "Just take the last one I found, then your pile will always be bigger than mine."

Illya looked at the walnut in his hand in surprise. He had never just given her one before. He always said she had to find the worthy things in life herself.

"Are you sure?" She asked.

"Of course, little one." Her papa whispered, crouching down and pulling her in for a hug. "It is the very least I can do."

Puzzled by her father's words, Illya studied the walnut she had been handed. For all intents and purposes, it looked like a normal walnut, except that the letter 'E' had been carved into its surface.

'Papa marked his walnuts?' She wondered, looking at the first letter of his last name.

She was tempted to ask him about it, but she knew it would be futile. This was a dream. Dreams didn't go off script. Her dream-parents didn't know any more than she did, for they were but constructs of her mind.

Don't get her wrong, she was grateful to her mind for showing her this much, but naturally, she couldn't help but wish it could be more. That she could talk to her actual parents, even if it was just one more time.

"Then perhaps I can be of assistance?"

The voice suddenly came from behind her, making Illya jump out of her skin for the second time that day. This time though, she didn't calm down after the first shock, for the voice was not one she recognised.

The white-haired girl turned around at once, arm stretched out in front of her and her other hand reaching to her head to pull out a few hairs should it be necessary. Countless patterns lit up on her skin, signifying the activation of Magic Circuits too numerable to count.

Magical Energy coursed through her, and numerous spells lied ready on her lips to make the intruder's day far more painful than he could ever have imagined when he invaded her dream.

That is, if she could actually manage to find said intruder.

Illya rapidly took in her surroundings. The voice had come from behind her, but now that she had turned around, there were only trees and other plants in sight, with no sign of the intruder visible anywhere.

There was no enemy Magus, no Dead Apostle, not even a spirit, demon, or wraith. There didn't seem to be anyone at all.

Was she going crazy? Had she finally gone insane from all the abuse that had been heaped upon her? Surely not, right?

"No, no, I'm real. No need to worry about going crazy, because you aren't. I am merely here to give you a little present, and then I'll be off again. You better appreciate it by the way, because I really had to argue with my grouchy brother over this, before we could settle on something that was both nice to you, as well as convenient for the big rescue-plot that's going to be executed soon."

The voice was now coming from right in front of her, which prompted her to send out a wave of Magical Energy in an attempt to locate the intruder. When that proved ineffective, she ran forward, attempting to home in on the source of the voice, but no matter where she moved or where she looked, the voice always remained a few feet away from her.

"…But, seeing that you aren't listening to my words at all, I will cut my speech short now and instead move on to my true purpose here. Now, I know young Angra will try something similar in a few years, to put you off balance with some kind of mockery-ghost-form of your mother, but rest assured, for my versions are the real versions. I'll even throw in a little extra at the end so you can be sure. Okay, enough out of me, bye."

And just like that, the tension that had surrounded her disappeared, and Illya knew the owner of the voice had left.

The white-haired girl lowered her hand again and slowly powered down her Circuits, though she kept them on stand-by, in case the intruder suddenly returned-

"Illya?"

The girl froze for a moment when her name was spoken again, before relaxing immediately after when she realised it was her mother's voice, and she turned around to see what the dream-construct wanted…

…Had the construct always looked so real?

"Illya?"

The image of Irisviel von Einzbern suddenly looked incredibly clear and detailed, far more than before.

"Illya?"

The voice was filled with raw emotion, and Illya couldn't move a muscle as the dream-construct slowly approached her, its face full of confusion and bewilderment.

"Illya, is that you?"

Illya didn't answer, couldn't answer, and she almost flinched when the illusion placed a hand on her cheek.

A hand that felt disturbingly warm, and disturbingly real.

Could it be…?

"Illya." The… dream-construct, whispered again. "My little girl, my precious little girl."

Then Irisviel von Einzbern hugged her daughter, and Illya knew.

Her mother was real. She was real, and really here.

"Mama?" Illya finally whispered, and the smile she received in response made her confusion shift into utter euphoria in the blink of an eye. "Mama!"

"My dearest." Irisviel replied in a voice that was as euphoric as Illya felt, tightening the hug. " Oh, my little girl, I missed you so, so much."

"B-But how?" Illya asked, feeling bewildered even through the delight. "Grandfather said you died, that you were sacrificed as the Lesser Grail. Was he wrong? You survived anyway?"

"No, little one, I did not survive." The woman whispered, shaking her head slightly. "I was sacrificed as the Lesser Grail when too many Servants had died for me to contain."

"But." She continued, cutting off the question on Illya's lips. "I was allowed to come back to you, for a short while at least. I don't know where I was after death, I cannot remember, but I do recall being approached by a being that offered me a chance to see you again, even if it was only for half-an-hour."

"Only half-an-hour? That's really everything? Can you not stay longer?" Illya pleaded, begging her mother with misty eyes.

Irisviel's expression turned miserable when she saw her precious daughter in tears. She immediately lifted her up in order to hug her better.

"For now, it is half-an hour, no negotiation possible. But dear, this doesn't have to be the last time. Whatever being allowed me to appear before you has promised I can visit you more often."

Illya pulled back from the hug to give her mother her most hopeful look.

"Really?" She asked.

"Really." Her mother confirmed.

Illya sniffed again, though this time in happiness.

"I am glad." She smiled through the tears. "This is the best day ever. Uhm, do you know if papa…?"

She was cut off by a cough coming from the left. Illya, for the third or maybe even fourth time today, jolted in shock, though this time her mama did so as well. Simultaneously, the two white-haired Homunculi turned towards the source of the sound, only for their jaws to drop in shared surprise.

A few seconds later however, Irisviel's expression turned into a delighted one, while Illya wrestled herself lose from her mother's embrace to run towards said source, which was revealed to be a black-haired, black-eyed man.

"Papa!" She cried out, catching the man in a flying hug, which did not even stagger him, just as she remembered.

"Hey, sweetling." He murmured as he hugged her tenderly for a few seconds, before walking over to hug his wife as well, Illya still in his arms. The adults ended up sandwiching Illya between them as a result, which was perfectly alright with her.

Eventually though, the need to breathe forced the little girl to release herself from the two-way hug.

"A-Are you still alive, papa?" She breathed after freeing herself, hoping against hope that he had made it to Germany alive and well. "C-Can you stay here?"

"...Only for half-an-hour." Her papa sighed, looking away in sadness.

…So he was really dead then. Even though she'd expected it, the confirmation still hit her like a punch to the gut.

But that wouldn't save him from her anger, no sir! She was going to rage against him, truly she was, no matter how glad she was to see him and mama again.

"What happened?" She demanded, puffing out her cheeks in an attempt to look intimidating and enraged, something that was ruined by the happy tears still streaming over her face, as well as her refusal to let go of him for even a second.

"It is a long story." Kiritsugu was swift to obey though, knowing that he owed his daughter an explanation at the very least.

He, along with his wife, told Illya the story of the Fourth Holy Grail War, the slaughter that it had become, the tragedies that had occurred, and the price that their little family had to pay for participating.

Illya listened with a mixture of grief and horror to the stories, which seemed to become worse as time progressed. From the first battle at the harbour and the horrors committed by Caster to the killing of the arbiter and the death of Maia. They had to put a hold on the story when Irisviel herself had died, as Illya had spent several minutes being completely occupied by hugging her mother.

When his daughter had regained her composure, Kiritsugu went on with the story, though at this point, he began skipping large parts, as the plot had largely been replaced by senseless violence, and Illya did not care much for what had happened to random Magi and Servants.

Both Irisviel and Illya turned white as chalk however when they heard of the thing residing in the Grail, and Illya felt outright queasy when papa told them about the fire that the creature had caused, the fire that had crippled him and condemned him to a slow death.

"Why didn't you run away?" She demanded, unable to understand her father's motives. "You shouldn't stay near a cursed fire!"

"I was searching for survivors." Kiritsugu answered bluntly. "That disaster was my fault, and I had the responsibility to save as many people as I could. Not that there were any, at first."

"At first?" Irisviel prompted when he fell silent.

"I found a survivor near ground zero, a boy. He was almost dead, but I merged Avalon with him, and it managed to heal him. Now, please don't get mad at me, but I ended up adopting him-"

"Emiya Shirou, right?" Illya interjected, for the first time feeling no rage or jealousy at the mention of that name, as this Shirou appeared to be a victim as much as she was.

"…I see Old Man Acht has been busy." Her papa grumbled, clearly not happy the Einzbern knew the name of his adopted son, before he nodded. "Yes, Emiya Shirou. He suffered complete memory loss, and could only remember his first name, so we kept that and added my family name to it."

"That makes sense." Irisviel smiled, and Illya nodded in agreement.

Kiritsugu smiled back, and then went into great detail about this Emiya Shirou, about his personality, his drive to help as many people as he could, his almost-but-not-quite girlfriend, and about the boy's promise to do what Kiritsugu could not.

To become a hero, and to save Illya.

For Kiritsugu had no longer been capable of either. The Curse of Angra Mainyu had crippled him completely. He spared them the gory details, but even the little bit he told them off was enough to make Illya feel sick all over again.

"With how weak I had become, there was no way I could get into the castle. Even travelling to Germany alone took all the strength I had towards the end." He sighed, slowly placing a hand on Illya's head. "Old Man Acht had locked me out. If I had tried to get in, I would have died immediately."

"Papa, it's alright! I understa-"

"That cretin!" Irisviel suddenly swore, and both father and daughter jaw-dropped simultaneously at the crass language. "That miscreant! That foul wretch! That caitiff lout! May a thousand spiders eat his eyes and ears!"

She didn't stop there, and at least five minutes went by, while Kiritsugu and Illya stood with wide eyes and mouths open, unable to say a word of move a finger while their wife and mother tore a strip out of Old Man Acht.

Eventually though, Irisviel lost steam, and she fell silent, panting slightly from all the yelling.

Then she bounced right back.

"Sorry about that, dears, where were we?" She beamed, and if this were an anime, Illya would have fallen flat on her face.

"I had just finished telling my part of the story." Her father managed to absorb it far better though, and he continued like nothing had happened. "I think we should let Illya have her turn now."

"M-Me?" Illya stuttered. "Uhm, I don't have that much to tell."

"Just talk about anything that pops up in your head, dear." Irisviel smiled.

"Right…" Illya mumbled, before she shrugged her shoulders and started talking.

She covered as many subjects as she could; her own experiences, her general relationship with the rest of the family, her maids and how much she loved them, and even the latest gossip around the castle.

She tried to gloss over the uglier parts, such as the operations, as much as she could, but something told her she wasn't very successful, if the bone-crushing hug she received from her mother was any indication.

"Mom!" She whined, trying to shake herself free. "You don't have to-"

"…I am sorry, Illya."

"Huh?" Illya looked at her father in askance, only to find his eyes shadowed and his mouth pulled into a self-recriminating scowl.

"I am sorry for leaving you behind, for leaving you both behind."

"Dear?" Irisviel let go of her daughter, instead reaching out to her husband, who stepped back from her touch.

"My years here with you were the best of my life. The two of you gave me more peace and happiness than I could have ever imagined, and I am more grateful for that than I can express."

"Papa-"

"You gave me everything, yet in the end, I threw it all away for a fantasy I knew I could never realise. I let you become the Grail, Iri, and I left you here alone, Illya, to chase after a shade of a dream. I am sorry, I am so terribly sorry-"

'SMACK'

Irisviel promptly slapped him in the face.

"Ow!" Kiritsugu said, more out of disbelief than actual pain.

"You stupid man." Irisviel sighed, shaking her head fondly at her husband's idiocy. "You are blaming yourself for things outside your control. There was nothing you could have done to prevent what happened to the two of us. I was fated to die from the moment I was born, no matter who the Master representing the Einzbern would be. The fire in Fuyuki-City is to blame on Angra Mainyu. The fact that you couldn't get to Illya is Old Man Acht's fault. Do you hear me, my foolish husband? None of it was your fault."

Her voice started strong and stern at the beginning of her speech, but as she continued talking, it grew softer and kinder, until she had taken papa in a hug again, whispering things Illya couldn't hear into his ear.

The white-haired girl made sure to nod her head when her father glanced at her, showing she completely agreed.

His eyes visibly lightened upon seeing that, and he hugged mama back. Illya was just about to join the hug-

When a soft chime suddenly sounded throughout the area.

It made all three of them perk up, looking around for the source, before her father made a surprised sound.

"I fear our time here is up." He said, as he held up an arm that was slowly falling apart in particles of light, as if he were a disappearing Servant.

"Well, we did for stay way longer than thirty minutes." Irisviel sighed, watching with resignation as she began disappearing too. "We must have been talking for hours already."

"You're leaving?" Illya asked, a hollow feeling forming in the pit of her stomach. She'd known this was only temporary, but…

"We'll be back." Kiritsugu promised, and her mother nodded in agreement.

"B-Be back soon! I love you!" Illya cried, and she received two smiles in response, before her mama and papa fully disappeared, back to where they had come from.

The next moment, Illya's eyes shot open, and the dream disappeared without a trace.

It took her a good ten seconds to reorient herself, before she realised that she was lying on her bed, in her room, with barely an hour having gone by.

It almost seemed as if her entire conversation with her parents had been merely a dream, if it hadn't been for one thing.

Illya was suddenly holding a walnut in her hand, and not just any walnut, but specifically the one her papa had given to her in her dream. It even had the letter 'E' carved into it.

Illya gave a squeal of happiness, the knowledge that she had really spoken with her mama and papa filling her with unbridled ecstasy...

And then her door was thrown open again, and her maids stormed inside.

"Mistress!" Sella panted out, gasping for breath, with Leysritt being in much the same condition behind her. "I am so sorry for being so late. Not to make excuses, but it seemed as if every time we finished cleaning up one mess, another would come into existence right away."

"Sorry." Leysritt murmured, bowing low towards Illya, making her unfastened headpiece fall off and her short hair splay out over her face.

"Leysritt!" Sella hissed. "I told you to refasten that before it dropped off, you, you… Ugh." With a growl, Sella grabbed the headpiece from the floor and put it back on Leysritt's head, taking care to fasten it properly this time.

"Hehehe." Illya couldn't suppress a small chuckle at the sight, before she gave her maids a bright smile. "It's okay, you two. I was fine on my own."

"Nevertheless-" Sella protested, but Illya wouldn't have it.

"I said it's fine." She repeated, making her tone as final as she could. "If you really want to make up for it, help me with practicing my spells."

"Your spells?" Sella looked befuddled at the sudden change in topic, but Illya didn't bother explaining.

"Yup. It's high time I practised again."

"…As you wish, mistress."

Sella, still looking a bit uncertain, acquiesced to Illya's order, and together, the two brushed up on the younger girl's theoretical knowledge of offensive spells.

Once that was done with, Illya cajoled Leysritt into a spar, in which Illya used her spells and Leysritt used her halberd.

It might have seemed unfair that the maid was only allowed to use a melee weapon, but Illya could barely keep up with her even then. Leysritt had been created for battle, and she excelled at it to a point where no other Einzbern-Homunculus could match her.

It was as if Leysritt became a totally different person while fighting. No longer was she ditsy, distracted, and slow, rather she was a mean fighting machine that was at the absolute pinnacle of combat as far as Illya had ever seen.

And everyone knew of it too. Even the rest of the Einzbern-family didn't dare challenge her, wanting to avoid the embarrassment of being defeated by a mere doll.

Sella meanwhile was standing on the side-lines, watching with poorly hidden anxiousness as her sister tried to chop their mistress into pieces.

Illya on the other hand was grinning widely, fully enjoying the feeling of adrenaline running through her veins as she narrowly dodged Leysritt's attacks.

Today had been amazing. The physical pain might still be present, and the mental pain as well, but there was no trace left of the pain in her heart.

Her parents hadn't abandoned her, and she had a new brother who was trying to save her at that very moment.

How could she not be happy?

'I'll see you soon, Onii-chan. I wonder what it is that you are doing right now.'

---

"Stop him! He can't make it to-"

A punch.

"Damn it, I can't see anyth-"

A kick

"Where the he-"

A jab of an elbow.

"Stand still and let me shoo-"

A fist brought down mercilessly on an unsuspecting head.

Criminals and crooks were dropping like flies on all sides. A mysterious attacker was weaving in and out of the shadows as he wreaked havoc on their lines, utterly obliterating everything in his way. Resistance was futile, fleeing impossible, and trying to reason useless in the face of this abhorrence.

Even the most cynical and grounded of criminals could not keep their heads cool when faced with something like this. There was total and utter panic, and soon enough, Shirou was victorious, leaving him the only person conscious inside the warehouse.

Yet another successful mission.

For the past weeks, Shirou had been busy culling the gangs in Ise, the hometown of Kurata, and he was glad to say it was going very well. In fact, he was on a roll, already having taken down the majority of the gangs, as well as a large portion of the black market. It was even easier than in Fuyuki-City, and according to the rumours he'd picked up from listening to the chatter on the street, the underworld was on its last legs.

By all accounts, he would be finished in a few more days.

Unfortunately though, his other mission wasn't going nearly as well.

He hadn't found a single trace of the Magi anywhere, not even a single criminal smelling like Magecraft, and by now, he had just about accepted that he wasn't going to find anything in Ise.

Fighting criminals was of course still a worthy cause, as it saved innocent people from harm, but it looked like that was all he was going to do in this city.

He could only hope that the next city would hold more clues for him.

Calling the police on his burner-phone, Shirou ignored the protests of the woman on the other end, who pleaded with him to just wait for once, and walked through the front door of the building. After making sure no one was looking, he launched himself into the air again.

About an hour, a quick descend, and a flawless landing later, he stood in his backyard once again. The mission in Ise hadn't taken very long this time, the opposite rather, but Shirou would still be going straight to bed. He might not need to sleep much, but sleeping was nevertheless still very nice.

Also, he had been invited to dinner the next day by Ayako, and he'd rather be well-rested for that. He would like to make a good impression on her family, and that would be harder if he was tired and yawning all the time.

However, when he walked into his house proper and made a round to check whether all doors and windows were closed and all lights were switched off, he suddenly found a letter in the mailbox. A letter that definitely hadn't been there when he left.

It seemed rather shady, but since he couldn't smell or otherwise detect anything dangerous about either the envelope or what was in it, he opened it nonetheless.

What came out was a rather impressive looking letter, with the big and important-looking seal of Fuyuki-City at the top of the page, indicating it was sent by the city's councilmembers.

Scratching his head for a bit, Shirou unfolded the paper, and started reading.

...

Dear young inhabitant of Fuyuki-City,

This letter was sent on behalf of the city-council, with the intention of making all citizens between the ages of ten and eighteen, as well as their relatives, aware of a problem that has been playing in our city for a long time: The complete and utter lack of swimming capabilities of the youth.

This has not seen as much of problem before, because despite having a river in the city and being in close vicinity of the ocean, very few people have ever drowned in either.

However, in recent years, the number of drownings in and around Fuyuki has increased dramatically, making it necessary for the council to intervene before more of such tragedies take place.

Thanks to a generous donation of a wealthy and concerned citizen, going by the name of B. Yonder, the council has been able to arrange a swimming course for the children belonging to the previously specified age-group.

We would like to inform you that participation is mandatory and that no exceptions will be made except in the direst of circumstances or when legitimate reasons, such as disability or illness, have been given as to why one is incapable of participating.

Now for some practical information.

The course will last three months, with lessons twice a week. The lessons will take place in Fuyuki-City itself, at the Siwilaki swimming pool in the East of town.

The course will be finished with an exam, which will take place in the city of Hikone, located at a five-hour drive from Fuyuki itself. The reason the exam will be held there is because many cities are participating in this initiative, and Hikone has a very central position. Because of the long drive, the night after the exam will be spent in Hikone itself, in four-star hotel Maihame, paid for in full by mister Yonder.

Despite the rather large swimming facilities present in our own fair city, the number of adolescents is still too high for them all to receive the course at once, thus groups have been made. These groups will have their lessons in different blocks.

The precise grouping, as well as the dates and times of the lessons, can be found on the official town-hall website. Should one be otherwise occupied on one's appointed date and time, a request for rescheduling or permitted absence can be submitted, as long as a valid reason is given.

With this, all information has been relayed. We of the council wish you a happy day.

Was signed,

Meigo Hinamora.

...

Shirou blinked. Then he read the letter again. He blinked once more.

There was a lot to unpack in that short block of text, and he wasn't quite sure where to begin.

On itself, this initiative was definitely a good thing. Shirou himself might be a proficient swimmer –Kiritsugu had insisted on him learning– but he knew that many other teenagers couldn't swim at all, and if that resulted in drownings, something had to be done.

Nevertheless, while the news itself wasn't unwelcome, the way it had been implemented and communicated was very odd. Normally, city-wide initiatives like this were hotly debated in the council for months before any decision was made, making sure that everyone and their mother knew about it long before anything actually took place. This time however, the council had made a sudden decision with no warning whatsoever, which was very unlike them.

This 'mister Yonder' also sounded fishy. The whole point of sponsoring an initiative like this was to cash in on the boost in reputation it would provide, yet the man had barely been mentioned and was a veritable unknown among the general populace. Shirou had certainly never heard of him before.

What concerned him most however was the fact that the exam would apparently be held in Hikone.

Hikone was one of the cities the Magi had visited, and it just so happened to be the only city that was too far away for Shirou to be able to visit by himself.

It was too convenient to be a coincidence, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out who could and would manipulate things to such a degree seemingly to help him.

So with a sigh, Shirou let the matter drop for the moment.

'Still, swimming lessons of all things?' Shirou mused to himself. 'If there is indeed something behind all this, then why swimming lessons?'

The only response he got was an amused nudge from Mjolnir.

---

The next day, Shirou found himself standing on the porch of the Mitsuzuri-estate, under the light of the setting sun. There, he nervously straightened his shirt beneath his coat, making sure nothing had gotten rumpled or out of place during his walk to Ayako's house.

It was the first time he'd visited the brunette's house, or rather, the first time he'd ever visited a peer's house at all. He'd only ever been to his own house or to the Fujimura-estate, meaning that going over to a friend was uncharted territory for him.

He had no experience at all on how to behave on such occasions, and since he doubted Fuji-nee was the right person to go to for advice, he'd ended up asking Neko-san, the owner of the café he worked at, for a few hints on what to do.

He had explained to Neko-san that Sakura and he had been invited for dinner by Ayako, and that her parents would likely be present, and fortunately, Neko-san had needed no more explanation than that to understand what was going on.

She'd laughed merrily at the situation for some reason and had then summarized the event as a casual dinner in a non-business-setting. She had advised him to wear tidy, neat clothes, and to work a bit on his hair. Less than that would signal that he didn't respect his hosts, but more than that would perhaps embarrass them because he'd put in so much more effort than them.

She'd also advised him to arrive either a bit earlier than planned or a bit later, as that was fashionable these days, but Shirou was a punctual man, so he'd discarded that advice and arrived at seven o'clock on the dot, as Ayako had said.

Taking a last deep breath, Shirou steeled himself and walked up to the door, knocking a few times to signal his arrival.

It was only a few seconds later that the door was opened by Ayako herself, who grinned widely upon seeing him. A small glance down her body revealed she was also dressed for the occasion.

It was with a raised eyebrow that Shirou took in her appearance. Don't get him wrong, it was by no means displeasing to look at. Rather, it was unexpected.

Normally, the exuberant girl would be clad in practical clothes, like trousers or a pencil skirt, coupled with a blouse, a shirt, or a vest. Tonight though, she had chosen to wear a black dress that fitted her perfectly, accentuating her curves and showing off her legs through a small slit on the side, coupled with thigh-high stockings and a small silver necklace.

Shirou thought she looked stunning.

"Shirou, you came!" She chirped happily, drawing his eyes back to her face.

"Yes." Shirou nodded, not sure what else to say, so he followed Neko-san's advice and complimented his host. "You look very beautiful, Ayako."

"Hm? Don't I always?" She sniffed haughtily, though she was unable to hide a pleased blush at his compliment. "Ah, but, please come in. No sense in staying outside, where it's cold. Make yourself at home in here."

Shirou gladly accepted the invitation and stepped inside, and while Ayako closed the door again behind him, giving a theatrical shiver at the stiff breeze, he took off his coat and shoes.

"For real though, I'm glad you are here." Ayako repeated once he was done, gently taking his hand to pull him along into the house. "You and Sakura are the first people who I have ever invited for dinner, so I really appreciate it that you both came."

"I wouldn't miss it for anything." Shirou assured her, eliciting another pleased blush from her. "Is Sakura already here?"

"Yes, she is. She arrived a few minutes ago, and she's in the dining room now, with my parents and little brother."

"I see." Shirou smiled, though the smile instantly disappeared when Ayako suddenly came to a halt. "Ayako?"

"Say, Shirou." Ayako's voice suddenly lowered to barely a whisper, and the only reason Shirou wasn't getting worried was because Ayako looked conspiratorial rather than afraid. "Do you have a moment?"

"What is it?"

"Yes, so, uhm…" Contrary to her earlier confident demeanour, Ayako didn't seem to know what to say, rubbing her hands nervously and glancing to the side every time he attempted to make eye-contact with her. "You are going to meet my parents in a few moments, and I just wanted you to know a few things before that happens."

"Oh?"

"I-It's nothing bad." She hastily assured him, perhaps fearing he was getting the wrong idea. "It's… It's just that…"

"That?" Shirou prompted her.

"It's just that my parents think that we are either dating or going to date soon!"

For a moment after this declaration, there was silence.

Then Ayako brought her hands in front of her mouth, her face turning red as she realised what she had said, and Shirou too could not quite suppress a blush of his own at the brazen statement.

"W-Well." He stuttered eventually, rubbing the back of his head in his embarrassment. "I… I suppose that's just what parents do, right?"

His classmates certainly had made it seem so with all their complaints about their parents embarrassing them.

"Y-Yeah, I suppose so." Ayako agreed, before laughing self-consciously. "It's just so awkward to listen to them going on and on about it. They sound like we're practically married already."

"They sound like… interesting people."

"You don't know the half of it." She grumbled, before she gave him a pleading look. "So please don't be insulted when they start talking about us dating. I know we aren't, a-and I didn't try to look cool by claiming we were, so please just ignore them."

"No one is insulting me by believing I am dating someone as amazing as you." Shirou suddenly felt the need to say, Ayako's tone and choice of words rubbing him the wrong way for some reason.

It was nothing but the truth. Ayako was a fantastic person, and if she ever found someone worthy of her, she would undoubtedly make them very happy. If Ayako's parents thought he was dating her, then he should feel honoured that they thought so highly of him. Embarrassed of course, but also honoured.

Of course, his well-meant remark caused Ayako's face to explode in a blush of epic proportions, but Shirou completely missed it as he turned towards the door leading to the dining room, intent on facing her parents as soon as possible.

Without further ado, he entered, leaving Ayako in the hall for the moment, which suited the brunette just fine, considering she had to get rid of all the blood in her face first.

Heaven's Above, Ayako knew that her crush on the boy had grown exponentially over the past months, but him doing and saying things like that really drove it home extra well.

Yes, she had a crush on him, she admitted it. Her parents were, to some extent, right. She'd fallen in love for the first time in her life, and it was with Emiya Shirou.

Someone who was completely unreachable to her.

Not because of worth, or social standing, or anything like that, perish the thought, but because there was something standing in her way. An insurmountable obstacle, known as Matou Sakura. The girl who had already claimed Shirou for herself.

There was no way in hell that Ayako could snatch the plum-haired girl's crush away from her. Sakura had staked her claim first, had known Shirou for far, far longer than Ayako, and to top it all off, she was also a great friend to the brunette herself, remaining kind and polite even though Ayako was visibly intruding upon her territory.

Making a move on Shirou would be nothing but the utmost betrayal, a stab right in Sakura's back, and Ayako wanted to be a good friend, not a rotten backstabber.

It was just her luck that she'd fall for a boy who was already taken, but there was nothing she could do about it.

Ayako would be happy with just being friends, even if it would forever leave a hollow feeling in her abdomen.

In the meantime, Shirou had entered the dining room, where he immediately spotted Sakura sitting at the table, right next to a younger boy, who he assumed to be Ayako's little brother, Minori. Ayako had always spoken fondly of him, and Shirou had been looking forward to meeting him.

Shirou couldn't suppress a tinge of annoyance however, when he realised just how close the boy was sitting to Sakura. No, forget about close, the boy had practically positioned himself on Sakura's lap, sitting thigh to thigh like they were joined at the hip.

Something about that scene rubbed Shirou completely the wrong way. He didn't know why he was feeling so strongly about it, but he was aware he didn't like the boy's forwardness one bit.

Mjolnir completely agreed, insisting on Shirou going over there to break them up immediately, and in all honesty, the redhead was tempted to do exactly that.

However, before he could follow through with Mjolnir's suggestion, his attention was diverted by the other people at the table, Ayako's parents, who rose up to greet him properly.

"Welcome to our home. My name is Mitsuzuri Chiaki." The woman, a tall, older version of Ayako, began, bowing elegantly. "I assume you are Emiya Shirou?"

"Ah, yes, I am Emiya Shirou." Shirou nodded distractedly, returning the bow. "It is an honour to make your acquaintance, Mitsuzuri-san."

"Name's Mitsuzuri Ryozo, kid. Nice indeed to finally meet the one my daughter has been so lyrical about over the past weeks." The man, Ryozo, said, never losing his grin for the entirety of his sentence. "Don't think I'll be going easy on you tonight."

"Sir?"

"I need to test you. I can't have you be a wimp or an unreliable sod when you are no doubt intending to date my beautiful daugh-"

"Dad!" An outraged voice suddenly shrieked, cutting Ryozo off. The next moment, Ayako had thrown herself bodily across the room at her father, slinging her arms around his neck and effectively shutting him up. It was too little, too late though, as both she and Shirou now sported blushes.

"Ignore my father." Ayako squeaked, turning around lightning-quick towards Shirou. "He's senile."

"I figured." Shirou nodded immediately, having no problem at all with throwing the man under the bus after the stunt he'd just pulled. "It was clear the moment he spoke up."

"Ouch." Ryozo complained, placing a hand on his heart. "She's only just found herself a man, and already she is rebelling against us. Dear, what must we do?"

"Nothing we can do, I'm afraid." Chiaki shook her head sadly. "If she has decided to leave the nest to build a nest of her own-"

"BLA! BLA! BLA! I can't hear you!" Ayako shouted, before she grabbed Shirou's hand and pulled him towards the dining table, where she immediately made sure to place Shirou between Sakura and herself.

Speaking of Sakura, she had clearly also made an effort to dress up for the evening, and he could only say she looked beautiful. Of course, she was always very pretty, no matter the circumstances, but it was only accentuated tonight, now that she was wearing a simple, yet very elegant, one-piece, purple dress with thigh-high stockings and a small jacket worn over it.

Both of his female friends were absurdly beautiful, and though it was unknown to Shirou himself, countless teenage boys would have gladly murdered him to take his place sitting in between them.

"Good evening, Sakura." Shirou greeted her softly once he'd seated himself. "Have you been waiting long?"

"Hello, Senpai." Sakura beamed, looking incredibly pleased with her current situation. "No, I only got here a few minutes before you did. I was getting ready at home, but I was finished earlier than I thought, so I came here early. I still don't know if I'm dressed correctly though."

"You and me both, dear." Ayako grumbled. "I've hoisted myself in outfits like this before, but I never seem to be able to grasp right combinations or the appropriate amount of formality. Mom had to send me back to get changed again thrice this evening alone."

"I think you both look beautiful, even more than usual, I mean." Shirou assured them, patting Sakura's head and Ayako's back. "I'm not an expert in clothing, but that's my opinion."

As expected for all those who were not named Emiya Shirou, Sakura promptly turned red at his words, almost wiggling in delight at the knowledge that her Senpai thought she was beautiful. Ayako too was flattered by his words, but her eyes were fixed at Shirou's hand on Sakura's head, wishing he would pat her head as well, instead of only her back.

It was also notable that Minori seemed to glare at Shirou during the exchange, and especially at the hand on Sakura's head.

"That's really kind of you to say, Senpai." Sakura murmured, missing the glares that the Mitsuzuri-siblings aimed at the hand on her head, though both for different reasons. "You also look good tonight. Not that you don't look good normally, but even more so now, you know?"

"What Sakura said." Ayako agreed, having put her little bout of jealousy behind her. "You look very handsome."

"I agree." Chiaki cut in with a smile, having just finished bringing tonight's dishes to the table with her husband. "You look quite strapping, Emiya-kun. Don't you think so too, dear?"

"I suppose." Ryozo shrugged slightly as he sat down at the table, not in the habit of commenting on other men's looks. "If my daughter and her best friend think so, who am I to disagree?"

"I don't think he looks handsome." Minori suddenly interjected, sounding very put-off at having heard his crush praise another man, describing him as handsome and good-looking.

"That's because you're an idiot." Ayako countered without missing a beat.

"Why, you-"

"I don't believe I have introduced myself yet." Shirou quickly interjected before the conversation could turn into an argument, directly addressing Minori. "I am Emiya Shirou. It is a pleasure to meet you."

"…Mitsuzuri Minori." The boy replied, though he refrained from adding any pleasantries, which Shirou had honestly expected already.

"Minori-kun goes to our school." Sakura supplied helpfully when it became clear the boy wasn't going to say anything else. "He sometimes spends time with Ayako and me during the breaks."

"Indeed, this little runt goes to the same school as we do, and sometimes stops by to hang out with us." Ayako grinned, winking at her little brother. "He's good company, at least as long as his friends are not with him. They're jerks really."

Minori spluttered at her words, sending her an outraged look, no doubt because she was making him look ridiculous in front of Sakura. Ayako didn't care though.

"Ayako, don't say things like that." Sakura on the other hand did care about Minori's mood, and she pouted peevishly at her brunette friend. "Minori-kun is nice to us. You shouldn't talk badly about his friends."

"It's the prerogative of every big sister to embarrass their little brothers." Ayako replied, grinning widely even as she suppressed a flinch at seeing how her little brother cast a smug look at Shirou, no doubt feeling like he'd one-upped the older boy by having Sakura defend him. Her red-haired crush was looking-, not quite irritated, but certainly closer to it than she'd ever seen him be before, and poor Sakura saw nothing of the effect her words had.

She had to do damage control, and quick.

"But say, Shirou." She said loudly, cutting off whatever could be said next about Minori, his friends, or anything related to it. "How are you doing at school?"

Alright, it was a very cliché subject, but it was a useful cliché to divert attention away from a less-than-desirable topic.

"Eh? Oh, I suppose I'm doing rather well." Shirou replied, looking slightly surprised at the change in topic, though he took it well enough. "With the way things are going, I'll be first in my year after the final exams."

"Oh, congratulations." Ayako beamed, quickly copied by Sakura, who technically already knew about Shirou's position at the top but didn't want to miss a chance to praise her Senpai.

Chiaki and Ryozo were also quick to congratulate him, but Minori didn't seem pleased at all with the news.

"Really?" The boy asked snidely, his lips pulling into a condescending sneer. "The people at your school must be really stupid if you can beat them. What, did you suck up to the teach-"

"Shut up!" Ayako snapped, both enraged and horrified that Minori would say such a thing.

"Mitsuzuri Minori!" Chiaki followed half a second later, looking equally as enraged as her daughter. "Enough of this! What has gotten into you?"

"Apologise to Emiya-kun at once!" Ryozo also spoke up, though in his case, he wasn't as much angry as he was disappointed.

His sister's shout didn't make much of an impression on Minori. His mother's anger shook him a bit more, but it wasn't enough to break his stubbornness. It was his father's disappointment though that really got to him.

"I... am sorry, Emiya-san." The boy gritted out through clenched teeth, conscious of his father's gaze on him. "It won't happen again."

"It's alright, don't worry about it." Shirou accepted the apology immediately, both because he didn't mind insults all that much and because he really wanted to settle the awkward atmosphere that had suddenly come into being.

Being an only child who had only ever lived with a very mellow father, Shirou had no experience with families, and as such, was caught flatfooted by how quickly things could escalate between relatives.

Fortunately, Minori's apology was enough to settle things, and before long, the awkwardness was gone, and a merry mood had returned.

Ayako talked by far the most out of all of them, but she regularly allowed others to speak as well, sometimes going as far as to coax Sakura into saying something.

Ryozo and Chiaki didn't say much, content to let the children have their fun, though they did cut in now and again with a teasing remark or to answer a question.

Even Minori had behaved himself well, though that was more out of fear of further scolding and embarrassment than out of genuine mellowing, but it was good enough.

Coupled with the merry mood was fairly good food. It wasn't perfect, but Shirou was willing to give it a nice seven-and-a-half when compared to his own. Sakura was decidedly less generous, giving it a mere four compared to her Senpai's cooking, but she was willing to admit she might be a bit biased.

Ultimately, it was a very nice evening. Definitely a success.

All good things had to come to an end though, and this was no exception. When the clock struck eleven, it really was time for the guests to go home. Having already persuaded Sakura to let him walk her home, Shirou went to the hallway first, having said his goodbyes to Ayako and now letting Sakura do the same in private.

Little did he know however that much more would be said than only goodbyes.

Ayako immediately drew Sakura in for a big hug, which the plum-haired girl eagerly reciprocated. Ayako's hugs always felt really good after all.

"Thank you very much for the invitation, I really enjoyed being here." Sakura smiled after they had let go again, straightening her clothes. "Please tell that to your parents as well."

"I will, and I expect they'll tell you that you were a pleasure to have." Ayako grinned, before she furtively looked behind her and, once she had confirmed her parents and brother had already left for the kitchen to start washing the dishes, lowered her voice to a whisper. "I am sorry about Minori by the way. I'm sure he'll get over it in time and see that it is a lost cause, but if he doesn't, please let him down gently as soon as possible, before Shirou breaks him in half."

"Hah?" Sakura blinked in stupefaction, confused to the point where a question mark almost appeared above her head. "Was something wrong with Minori-kun? What do you mean? Why would Senpai attack him?"

Her confusion however only earned her a confused look back. At least, until the brunette palmed her face, muttering something about 'denser than a brick wall' and 'being made for each other'.

"…Still, thank you again for the invitation. I truly enjoyed it a lot." The plum-haired girl eventually continued, moving on from the confusing matter and putting her smile back on.

To all ears, it might have sounded as just a few words of gratitude and goodbye, and in a certain sense, they were, but Sakura was currently building up towards an important matter.

"Thank you for coming. It was a fantastic evening." Ayako, who had also moved on, gave her customary big grin, the one that Sakura had been fond of since the first time she had seen it. "I am really glad you and Shirou were here."

Deciding she wouldn't get a better opening than that if she wanted to talk about the important subject, Sakura then brought up the matter she had been wanting to settle with the brown-haired girl for weeks now.

"Ayako, do you like Senpai?"

"Huh? Oh well, of course I do, he's my friend-"

"No, I mean, as more than a friend? Do you like him as a woman?"

"I-I…"

"I think you do."

It was meant as nothing more than a neutral question, an attempt to verify how Ayako truly felt, but when Ayako's grin disappeared in the blink of an eye and panic and guilt rapidly took its place, the plum-haired girl realised she'd made a mistake.

"S-Sakura." Ayako stuttered out, the shame and fear in her voice taking Sakura aback to hear. "I-I am really s-sorry. I didn't mean to, I didn't want to, and I know you already have staked your claim, b-but please don't be angry-"

"I'm not." Sakura said bluntly. "It's fine that you like him."

Now, if it had been anyone else who tried to get to cosy with her Senpai, Sakura would have been angry, but this was different. It was completely fine if the other person was Ayako.

No, that was a lie. Even if it was Ayako, Sakura still didn't like that someone else was after her Senpai, but all things considered, Ayako was undeniably the best candidate to become Senpai's girlfriend. Sakura was just too tainted to be allowed to get any closer to him.

"…Huh?"

In another situation, Sakura might have laughed at Ayako's slackjawed expression.

"I am fine with you pursuing Senpai." She elaborated, ignoring the pain in her heart as she said those words.

"B-But you-"

"I am aware that this might be a shock." She ground out. "And that it might not fit with my earlier behaviour, but like I said, I have no problems with you courting and getting together with him. I-I think you're a fantastic person, Ayako. I like you, and I think- no, I know that Senpai likes you too."

"S-Sakura-chan…" Ayako had gone completely red at this point. "What are you saying so suddenly? Are… Are you sure? Like, really sure?"

"Yes." Sakura confirmed, now struggling to keep the tears back, directing her gaze downwards to hide her wet eyes from her friend. "I am sure. I know that you won't try to push me out of the picture, so, again, I have no problem with you getting in a relationship with Senpai."

"I-I…"

"It will of course be a chore to get Senpai to realise that you like him as well, but I have faith you can manage it." Sakura somehow managed to make her tone a bit more light-hearted as she spoke those words. "I don't need an answer right now, but please tell me when you've made your decision. Just know that you have my blessing either way. You always had it."

And without another word, she rushed out of the room, unable to bear being in the brunette's presence any longer. When she was in the hallway, it took her a full minute to recompose herself, but once she no longer felt like she about to cry, she walked outside and joined Shirou in the walk towards her home.

It was a terrible conclusion for such a good evening, but she had at least managed to finally tell Ayako that she was free to pursue Senpai.

Of course, she would have rather pursued him herself, but she knew she was utterly unworthy of him. With the worms inside of her and the impure urges and thoughts they gave her, she shouldn't even be in a fifty-mile radius from him, let alone come to his house every day.

The least she could do to make up for her selfishness was not getting in the way of better people who were worthy of loving Senpai. Sakura was willing to stand aside, and forever keep her distance from her Senpai, as long as she could remain his friend.

So Ayako, someone who was not jealous and would not push Sakura away, was free to pursue him.

---

It had been several minutes since Sakura had left, yet Ayako was still standing in the middle of the dining room, not capable of moving a single muscle. The events of the past few minutes kept playing over and over in her head, until she could only reach one final conclusion.

Sakura was willing to share Shirou with her!

It was the only thing that made sense. It fit perfectly. The willingness of the plum-haired girl to let Ayako hang around her crush was now finally explained. It wasn't because Sakura hadn't noticed that she had a crush on Shirou too, it was because She. Was. Willing. To. Freaking. Share!

Ayako had never considered that before. She knew it was theoretically possible to be in a romantic relationship with multiple people at once but had never thought it might one day apply to her.

Ayako had been caught completely off-guard by this. She had expected to have to compete with Sakura if she ever wanted to be with Shirou, not for Sakura to try to get her to share their mutual crush.

Safe to say, Ayako was in a bind right now.

How could she possibly pursue a relationship with Shirou now without feeling like an utter and complete jerk and backstabber? Her friend had now placed so much trust in her, so certain that Ayako wouldn't push her out of the picture, that there was no way that Ayako could ever betray that trust.

As such, it looked like the only possibilities left were either to back off from Shirou completely, or to woman up and share with Sakura.

...

When put that way, she couldn't deny the latter option did sound better.

And when thinking about it, Ayako also could acknowledge that it wasn't like it would be a chore or punishment to share a boyfriend with a girl as nice and kind as Sakura. There would be no need for power plays or strife, not with that motherly girl around to sooth things over. She was definitely one of the best options available when searching for someone to share a polygamous relationship with.

'B-but, what did she mean when she said that she l-liked me?' She then wondered, once more feeling a heavy blush come up. There was absolutely no question she resembled a tomato right now and she could only pray her parents wouldn't come in any time soon. 'D-did she m-mean only like a friend, o-or perhaps…?'

She didn't dare finish the thought. Sharing a boyfriend with just a friend was already strange enough for her to consider, but a full three-way relationship… That would take some getting used to, that was certain.

'But it doesn't sound bad, does it?' A treacherous, yet far larger than expected, part of her whispered, bringing to mind the hours spend together with Sakura, and how the girl had endeared herself more and more to her, and just how often Ayako was thinking of Sakura as cute and pretty, as well as the fact that the hugs they shared were really nice-

Rapidly shaking her head, Ayako discarded those thoughts before they would drive her into taking a poorly considered decision. Storing them in the back of her mind for now, she decided to just go to bed. This wasn't a matter she should decide on right away, especially this late in the evening.

She knew she genuinely liked Shirou, as someone she wanted a romantic relationship with, and she… Well, if she was really, truly honest, if only for a few seconds, then she had to admit she wasn't averse to getting closer to Sakura either.

There! She said it. Out loud and everything, or at least in her mind. Now if that perverse part of her mind could leave her in peace, that'd be amazing.

But in all seriousness, she would have to think about this. Fortunately, Sakura said she would wait for as long as was needed for Ayako's decision. And of course, even if she did agree, then the task of getting through Shirou's thick skull was guaranteed to be quite a chore, even with the two of them.

It would be a lot of fun though, doing that with Sakura…

But no, she should not think on those matters now, not when she was mentally compromised by shock and exhaustion.

Attempting to keep her mind empty of all thoughts pertaining to relationships and bold proposals, Ayako went through the paces of going to bed; helping her family clean up, putting on her nightclothes, brushing her hair and teeth, and then settling into her blankets on her comfy futon.

Her sleep was dreamless, thankfully, save for the occasional flash of red and purple.

---

Urayasu, Shirou decided, while knocking out yet another criminal, would never be his favourite city, even if it was the only city left in the world and all other worlds out there.

This uncharitable opinion did not come out of nowhere, nor was it unreasonable of Shirou to think such a thing. Many would think exactly the same upon seeing the place for themselves, and even most of those who called Urayasu their home would rather live anywhere else if they had a choice in the matter.

There were several good reasons for this widely shared dislike of Urayasu, the first reason being that the city was simply filthy.

Chewing gum and cigarette stubs were lying everywhere, rotting food and human waste were piling up in back alleys, and numerous people simply emptied their trashcans out of their windows, like this was the stereotypical medieval Europe or something.

Additionally, most of the public property in the city, such as bus stops, fountains, and statues, had been wrecked, while the air was filled with smog, forcing many people to wear masks to protect their lungs.

Other than that, most of the houses in Urayasu were decrepit, the streets were so broken they were barely safe to drive on, the public transportation was worthless, and far too many people lived way below the poverty line.

The worst of it all though was that no one was bothering to even try to do something about it. It was clear everyone had long since given up on the city.

Under such circumstances, it should come as no surprise that the crime rates had gone through the roof, with many people doing whatever it took to survive another day. That was perfectly understandable, and Shirou didn't think he had any right to judge.

Still, the redhead couldn't help but shake the feeling that something more was going on in Urayasu, something that went beyond people just trying to stay alive.

This city almost felt... evil.

Shirou didn't know how else to describe it. There was a darkness on Urayasu, something that went far beyond anything else he'd ever encountered.

And that darkness was reflected upon the people.

Rather than being concentrated in a number of gangs, like in the other cities Shirou had visited so far, the criminals in Urayasu were extremely individualistic, often roaming the streets alone or in small groups. They also weren't very focused, and often did whatever came up in their heads at any given moment.

Unfortunately, what they came up with was often of the evil variety.

Shirou had broken up countless overly brutal muggings, he had stopped drug dealers from forcefully injecting their victims with whatever trash they were selling, he had chased off harassers, and had prevented several street fights from escalating into lethal violence.

He'd even had to stop several rapes from taking place. He was ashamed to admit it, but Shirou had drawn a blank for a few seconds when he saw such an act for the first time, not understanding what had been happening with the man lying on the woman.

That confusion hadn't lasted long though, and the second he'd realised what had been going on, he had swooped in and kicked the rapist from one end of the alley to the other. He had probably crippled the man with that move, but he didn't feel very guilty about it.

Those were but a few examples of the horrors that Shirou had witnessed, and though he'd only been scouring the streets for Urayasu for a few days now, he was already completely done with the entire city.

He couldn't stop though. There were still numerous criminals out there that had to be apprehended before they harmed more people, and Shirou knew that if he didn't do it, no one would.

So he continued unabated, and tried to take solace in the fact that he was saving dozens upon dozens of people with his actions.

Several problems had arisen though, problems that couldn't be solved with violence or spells.

The first problem was perhaps an inevitable one for a hero; gratitude from the people he had saved.

It wasn't something Shirou had been forced to deal with before. He had always just caught gangs that were hiding in their bases, meaning there had been no victims nearby who could be grateful to him. In fact, most people didn't even know he existed because of the efforts of the police to keep him and his actions under wraps.

Here in Urayasu though, he was actively saving people from being mugged, assaulted, and even raped, tearing away their attackers and saving them from harm. Of course there would be plenty of gratefulness. That was only natural.

That it was natural didn't mean Shirou knew how to deal with it though.

It was not uncommon for the people he had saved to fall to their knees to thank him, or to embrace him, or to burst into tears, and he had no answer to any of the three.

He'd done his best to be polite of course, but a charismatic, dashing hero who always had a kind word or rousing speech ready, he was not. That much was very clear by now.

In the end though, the gratitude shown to him in the aftermath of his heroics was only a minor problem, if it could even be considered a problem at all and not just a part of a hero's job.

After the first few times, he had learned to simply accept it and then move on quickly, all the while saying as little as possible, as his young voice had deeply shocked the first person who he'd spoken with.

The second problem that had sprung up was unfortunately much harder to deal with.

The criminals had gone to ground.

Word of Shirou's presence every night must have gotten out, for the criminals had become much more careful and cautious lately. They were hiding themselves, in houses, offices, or shops, whatever was available, and they only emerged to attack a passing victim, before going back into hiding.

Actively hunting them down had become difficult as a result, and after some thinking, Shirou had decided to change his approach to the matter.

He had noticed some time earlier that if he altered his vigilante-outfit a tiny bit, put up his hood to hide his mask, and walked with a bit of a slouch, he would seem be to a normal person walking alone at night.

Using that fact to his advantage, Shirou had begun roaming the streets himself, especially the back-alleys, doing his best to look like an easy victim, to hopefully have the criminals come to him.

The tactic worked surprisingly well. With his short height, high-quality clothes, and, dare he say it, harmless appearance, he probably looked like an enticing target. He had been ambushed several times already that night, and it looked like he would be again now.

His attackers emerged from their hiding places, and within seconds, they'd surrounded him, brandishing all kinds of weapons to intimidate him.

"Give us your money, kid, and we might just let you go with only a beating." One of them rasped out, brandishing a base-ball bat.

"Yeah." Another agreed. "And while you're at it, why don't you give us those clothes, and yer trinkets, and whatever else you have with you, rich boy."

"And you'll let me go if I do so?" Shirou asked, keeping his voice as timid and afraid as he could make it.

"You'd like that, wouldn't ya?" The one in front of Shirou laughed, showing his blackened teeth. "But no, we changed our minds. We're just gonna beat ya to a pulp first, and then we'll take all of your stuff. If ya have enough shinies with ya tough, we might let ya live, if only just."

Shirou nodded imperceptibly at the statement. He'd feared at first that these men might just be desperate people looking for money to feed their families, but clearly, they had a significant evil streak as well. In other words, he had to stop them.

There were seven of them, which was a considerable number for a simple mugging, but it was nothing he couldn't handle.

Dropping the act of the timid teenager, Shirou burst into a sprint, rushing forward until he was in front of the man who had spoken last. An open-hand chop to the back of his neck brought him down instantly. In the same motion, Shirou spun around and delivered a kick to the midriff of the man now standing to his right, causing him to go down, wheezing for breath.

The third was grabbed at his collar and thrown at the fourth, both ending up slammed against the wall of the alley they were standing in. They didn't get up afterwards.

The remaining three barely had a chance to regret ambushing him before Shirou reached them as well. A single second later, it was over, and three unconscious bodies hit the ground in quick succession.

After yet another call to the police, where he was now becoming quite well-known, Shirou continued his not-so-peaceful stroll through the city, all the while keeping an eye out for more criminals to catch.

And of course, for clues about the Magi he was hunting. So far, he hadn't found any, leading him believe that just like in Ise, every criminal smelling like Magecraft had already left town, but he wasn't giving up just yet.

Because unlike in Ise, it was blindingly obvious that something supernatural was going on in Urayasu.

How did he know?

Because of the smell.

The smell of death to be precise. A scent that was clearly Magical in origin.

It wasn't from the Magi though. Shirou knew their scents, and this wasn't one of them. This was something else entirely.

And whatever it was, it set Shirou's teeth on edge, with his instincts and even Mjolnir telling him it was bad news, to the point where tracking down and eliminating its source became a main priority for him.

Especially since the number of missing-person cases in Urayasu had nearly tripled in the past months, way beyond anything even this city ever had to deal with before.

Shirou had discovered this dramatic rise during a visit to the local police-station a few days ago, and while he didn't know if it was related to the smell of death, he was nevertheless going to assume it was until the opposite had been proven beyond doubt.

It was a smell of death after all, not one of happiness. Whatever the origin was, it had to be stopped.

Finding said origin proved to be rather difficult however. The smell was very weak and dispersed, and Urayasu was a big city, not to mention that Shirou had been hindered by criminals every step of the way.

To make matters worse, Shirou also had no idea what the source could be. It could be another Magus who was now copying the ways of the ones Shirou was hunting, or it could be a person of a mixed bloodline going after humans in order to obtain sustenance, or even a ghost or wraith that was haunting the city because of unfinished matters in its past life.

There were plenty of possibilities, and so far, Shirou hadn't been able to narrow the list down much. That was something he was also working on, alongside fighting the mundane criminals and hunting the Magi.

His main theory, though he furiously hoped he was wrong, was that the source was actually a-

A sudden shuffling noise broke Shirou out of his concentration, and he couldn't entirely suppress a groan of annoyance when he saw people coming out of the shadows again, two in front of him and three behind, effectively trapping him inside an alley.

This was the ninth time already in only two hours, which was frankly ridiculous. There had to be some kind of limit to how many criminals were allowed to operate on one square kilometre.

Grumbling under his breath about stupid cities, Shirou straightened his back and took a deep breath, ready to get the inevitable pre-battle banter over with. Every criminal in Urayasu seemed to love the sound of their own voice, and there hadn't been a single fight up until now where there hadn't been some kind of bragging before the fight.

In the middle of that deep breath however, Shirou froze…

…For these crooks smelled like Magecraft.

Not letting his shock show on his face, Shirou now dedicated significantly more attention towards his opponents. He took another deep breath, this time with full focus, and the smell that once more hit his nostrils confirmed his earlier finding beyond a doubt.

These people smelled like the supernatural; they smelled like death, to be precise.

In other words, this didn't involve the Magi he had been hunting for several weeks now, but rather the new phenomenon Shirou had stumbled upon in Urayasu itself.

Shirou barely had a moment to consider the implications of this before all five opponents began their attack, remaining eerily quiet as they advanced towards him, murder clear in their eyes.

Shirou did not wait around for them to reach him though, instead rushing forward to meet them head on.

His opponents clearly hadn't anticipated this sudden burst of aggression, and they were off-balance for just long enough for him to run in-between the first two, turn around, and smack them over the head with his open hands.

The next three assailants jumped him a second later, but Shirou wasn't caught off-guard by their surprising speed, and responded with a flurry of punches that sent them to the ground, finishing the fight.

Or at least, he thought so, for a mere moment.

Now firmly in a combat-mindset, Shirou allowed himself only a split-second of surprise when he saw that not just one of them, but all five rose again from the ground.

True, he hadn't hit them that hard, to avoid wounding them, but his blows should still have been sufficient to knock them out.

He studied them carefully, wondering what made them so resilient.

Then he realised something, and shock once more coursed through him.

He knew these people!

Not personally, but their faces were incredibly familiar, and Shirou knew precisely why that was.

He jumped backwards, creating distance between him and his pursuers. He then reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a bundle of papers.

These were the missing-person-reports of the past three months that he had obtained from the police-station. Quickly riffling through them, Shirou's eyes widened when his suspicions were confirmed.

The people in front of him were in the reports. They were missing persons.

But… that made no sense.

These people were not the kind of people who would suddenly disappear and then turn up in an alley, attacking innocent passers-by. They were respectable, much-loved individuals with families and friends who missed them.

One of them in particular, Ehara Kageyasu, was a highly respected doctor. He had no time to waste on stupid frivolities, let alone on crime. And yet, here he was, running at full speed towards Shirou, faster than man his age should be capable of.

Furthermore, Aonuma Nui should have very weak knees from years of volleyball, making it impossible for her to run and jump like she was doing right now. Seriously, she should be in a wheelchair, not jumping at him with a feral snarl, coming awfully close to his face-

Letting go of the papers with one of his hands, Shirou used that hand to smack Aonuma back towards her comrades, making them tumble over each other in a way that would have been funny to behold if the situation hadn't been so strange.

He then put the papers back in his pockets and clenched his fists, preparing himself for a difficult fight. When he had thrown Aonuma backwards, she had ended up smacking on the ground head-first, with enough force to crack open her skull if she'd still been mundane. No such thing had happened, confirming beyond doubt that these people were no longer normal.

Shirou took another deep breath through his nose, trying to identify the smell that was practically wafting from the people in front of him.

The only thing he could associate it with though, was death, corpses, and poorly maintained grave yards. But that didn't make any sense-

Then the penny dropped.

Shirou's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed, and his fists clenched so hard his knuckles almost cracked. Sparing a moment to pray he was wrong, he took a closer look at his opponents, now actually taking in the details. It was all in the teeth, nails, and complexion of the skin, and if those were normal, then...

It was not to be. His hopes for his suspicions to be untrue were crushed when he noticed the fangs, claws, and sickly pallor of their skin, revealing once and for all what kind of creature he was dealing with.

A Dead Apostle.

A vampire.

Which meant that these people before him were zombies, thralls of the Dead Apostle, or, as they were known as in the Moonlit World, the Dead.

Mindless familiars of the vampire, who had been bitten by it or its other minions, and now existed only to serve it, bring it blood, and turn more people into its slaves.

These creatures in front of him were no longer human. They were monsters now, who had to be put down as soon as possible, for the good of all.

Shirou immediately went on the offensive, his hands crackling with lightning. He stormed forward, and when the first thrall came into reach, gave it a right hook, punching its head clean off its shoulders.

He then turned half to the right, crouching low to dodge a swipe with a claw, and lashed out with a high kick, sending his attacker and the one behind it flying into the opposite wall with such speed that they broke to pieces on impact.

The last two charged straight at him, employing all of the increased strength and speed that their kind was cursed with. It proved useless though, as Shirou simply side-stepped their assault and then brought his fists down on their heads with enough strength to reduce said heads to ash.

The Dead had been defeated, but the matter was far from over.

As long as the Master, the Dead Apostle, was alive, it could always create more of the Dead, more zombies. If Shirou wanted to be effective, he had to take out the monster itself.

'Cut off the head of the snake, and the body will wither'. It was an old saying that was perfectly applicable here. There were probably dozens of the dead running around in the city, but if he managed to kill their Master, he would effectively render them harmless.

The redhead took a moment to dig into his memory, trying to recall everything his father had told him about Dead Apostles, as he would certainly need every snippet of information he could possibly get on this hunt.

The most important thing by far was that these things spread their condition by a mere bite, which made them capable of infecting entire towns in a matter of days at best and hours at worst. The fact that Urayasu hadn't been overrun yet, even after at least several weeks, indicated that this Apostle had some serious patience. It was probably trying to keep a low profile to avoid hunters, which meant it was reasonably smart as well.

On one hand, that was good news, as it meant that the city was not in immediate danger, but on the other hand, it also meant that it was probably clever enough to hide itself and flee if Shirou was too slow in dispatching it.

In other words, he had to track it down quickly, before it noticed anything was amiss.

Finding the creature in a city as big as Urayasu should have been a daunting prospect, but now that Shirou knew what he was dealing with, his sense of smell would see him through.

The smell was still faint, just like before, but it was enough to at least give him a general direction now, which he immediately set about following.

Deciding now was no longer the time to walk around like an unsuspecting victim, Shirou donned his armour, actually wearing it in a combat situation for the first time ever. Then, with a jump, he ascended to the top of a nearby building.

With a quick flick, Mjolnir was once more in his hand, the hammer now thrumming with power, clearly ready to fight against the first opponent of the Moonlit World they had ever faced together.

Shirou then launched himself into the sky,

Following the trail.

---

And that is that. The chapter ends here.

Some things of importance happened in this chapter. I will walk through them for a bit again, just to soothe my own nerves because I fear some readers might not have understood everything.

First, we have little Illya getting a visit from mom and dad. Yes, those were really them, not just Servants or memories or anything like that, they were the actual Kiritsugu and Irisviel, who had been pulled back for a bit to spend some time with their daughter.

Shirou has no luck finding clues related to his main mission in Ise and gets news of swimming lessons when he returns.

Dinner at Ayako's place. Minori has his own crush on Sakura and Shirou feels the stirrings of jealousy, without recognising what he feels. It is probably for the best though, as feeling jealous is completely unneeded. Sakura would never consider anyone but her Senpai.

Poor Ayako completely misunderstands Sakura's words, though she does not reject the proposal outright, but instead actually finds herself considering it. Interesting…

Shirou then hangs around in Urayasu, being generally unhappy with the place, and then stumbles upon a Dead Apostle.

And then there's the author's note, wrapping it all up.

Now, some of you might not be entirely happy with what I have done for Illya, but I felt she deserved something like this, so here it is. I don't write drama all that well, so it's better for me if Illya doesn't hate Shirou when the latter forces his way into the Einzbern-castle later on in the story.

Also, I will now attempt to explain just what it means for Shirou to become like Thor. Okay, I said he's going to become a god, and that's true, but please all keep in mind that he's not going to be a Type Moon god. He is not reliant on the Mana in the air, nor on the prayers and believes of humans.

He had some similar powers to the Type Moon gods, such as Authority, but let it be known that the Chains of Endiku aren't going to be some sort of kryptonite for him. Please remember this and don't start any discussion about whether Shirou should or shouldn't be bound in those chains. The chains can absolutely bind him, and scale with his divinity, but they can't cut off his powers.

He is powered by the Shirou-Force, formerly known as Thor-Force and Odin-Force, one of the fundamental powers of the Omniverse. It is impossible for anything in the Nasuverse to cut him off from that power, no matter what they do. Binding him is still possible though. Especially with that Chain.

He's still compatible enough with humans to somewhat pass for one of them if one doesn't look to closely. And reproducing with humans is also very much possible.

Special thanks once more to hollowichigo12 for helping me write this story, and for the many ideas he has given me, both for this chapter and the ones to come. Also my thanks for giving me the idea for the omake that you can find below.

---

Omake (canon if you want it to be, it does not influence the story an awful lot.)

Jubstacheit von Einzbern was a callous and cruel man, who regularly did things that would make most civilised readers throw up at the very thought of doing it themselves.

It was not out of sadism or some twisted feeling of revenge though. No, for Old Man Acht, it was all about necessity.

He was the head of an ancient Magus-family, holding fabled riches, the best Homunculi-creators, and one of the strongest specialities in the world, that being Alchemy, in his very hands. There was no way he would be able to keep his position if he weren't a right bastard.

Fortunately, being a rotten bastard had always come easy to him. He had never lost a second of sleep over heartlessly throwing the failures of the Homunculi in the recycle room, or over sacrificing his metaphorical daughter to a crazy War over a, though he was not aware of this, defect Grail, or even over planning to use his granddaughter for the exact same purpose.

It would be incorrect to say he delighted in being cruel, but it could not be denied he did sometimes feel empowered by being so ruthless against enemy and ally alike. Who was going to tell him off after all? He was free to do what he wanted in the pursuit of bringing the Third Magic back to the Einzbern.

Inside his own family, he would tolerate no disrespect or disobedience, demanding loyalty from everyone, both artificial and real. He would never hesitate to stomp on anything that seemed like insubordination or mockery.

And that was why he was currently staring at a walnut, innocently laying on his desk, as if mocking him and laughing at him from its lower position. Jubstacheit could not properly understand how a nut could be looking at him with so much challenge, but it was clear that this walnut needed to be destroyed, for his peace of mind if nothing else.

He had torn this walnut out of the hands of the very granddaughter he was planning on sacrificing in the coming war, which seemed to be beginning sooner than anticipated. She had been holding it in her little hands during her lessons, sometimes looking at it with a smile.

Upon closer observation, he had discovered an 'E' carved in the surface of the little brown thing, the meaning of which he had understood right away.

He had been incensed. How dare she mock them all like that by carrying around something related to that traitor? Did she not have any respect at all for the family as a whole? Making them all seem ridiculous by constantly reminding them of when they snatched defeat from the jaws of victory.

He had marched over at once, demanding she hand over that walnut. He had expected protest, for her to try to keep it, but to his surprise, she had looked at the walnut for a few moments, and had then handed it over gleefully, a very unsettling smile adorning her face.

And that was how he came to be here, looking at a simple walnut with way too much anger and hate for it to be in any way healthy or normal. Just looking at it almost gave poor Jubstacheit an aneurysm, it was too much.

So with a hate-filled yell, he picked up the walnut and threw it at the wall with as much force as he could…

Only for it to bounce back right against his head.

"Ow!" He yelled, both out of shock and out of pain. His hand flew to his head to cradle it, while the walnut ended up back on the desk in its previous position. It had somehow bounced from his skull right back unto its former spot.

Jubstacheit looked at it incredulously, before he quickly grabbed a hammer he still had laying around from a recent redecoration and slammed it down unto the walnut, confident that would be enough to break it into pieces.

A harsh crack sounded, the crack of wood, making him believe at first that he had succeeded. However, when he looked at the walnut again, he saw to his astonishment that it was still unmarred.

It turned out it was the hammer that had broken from the force of his strike! The head had been snapped clean off.

But where was it then-?

"Thunk!"

Jubstacheit dropped the useless piece of wood in his hand and grabbed his head in pain again after the hammerhead, that had been launched straight into the air apparently, came down on him.

"What the hell?" He hissed, now feeling less hateful and more pissed off. That walnut was now openly defying him, hurting his head with brutal tactics.

It had proven that physical force would be ineffective against it, but there was no reason for concern yet, as he still had Magecraft at his disposal in order to get rid of it.

"Laden Brechen!" He shouted, pointing his finger towards the offending object, putting as much power as possible into it. The nut had proven itself an adversary worthy enough of that.

The spell impacted both the walnut and his desk. To Jubstacheit's shock and consternation, the walnut remained unaffected once more, while it was his desk that seemed to take all the punishment. The top splintered apart under the power of his spell, and the underlying drawer was shot away…

Right against his jaw.

"Akasha's Root!" The golem swore, now cradling his jaw in immense pain. First his forehead, then the top of his head, and now his jaw as well? This thing had it out for him. It was clearly creepier than he had anticipated.

But even now he still had the old wisdom to fall back on. As his own creator had always said to him: 'When in doubt, kill it with fire'.

Very wise words that applied here very well. So Jubstacheit promptly sprayed fire at the walnut. His desk would have to be replaced anyway, so he didn't hold back at all.

It should be enough to reduce the damned thing to cinders. Who knew walnuts were that hard to destroy…?

"Fwoom!"

Jubstacheit jumped back like a frightened deer the moment the flames touched the devilish thing, as a huge torrent of flames suddenly burst forth. And then, just as fast, it was also gone again.

Old Man Acht rapidly inspected his office for any damages, hoping nothing valuable had fallen prey to the flames. It seemed he was lucky this time though, as the only things damaged were his desk and the rope holding up the chandelier.

The chandelier, that was hanging right above his head!

Not even bothering to look up, the white-haired man made to get away from where he was standing, trying to jump to the side. It was too late though, and with a thundering crash, the chandelier came down upon him.

It was safe to say Acht was in more pain right now than he'd ever been in before. His whole body ached, with his head being the worst of all.

It was worth it though, for he had finally gotten the better of that blasted walnut…

'TONK'

Jubstacheit almost burst into tears when he felt something bounce off his head. Something very familiar.

Indeed, it was the walnut.

He could only stare at it for a few moments, before he put that famed intellect of his to work, and worked out the most brilliant plan ever.

He reached out and grabbed to walnut, and then walked out of his office, his stride that of a man with a purpose. Everybody looking at him could only wonder about his objective and his wounds, throwing themselves out of his way to not get trampled.

It was a few minutes later that Acht reached Illyasviel's chambers. Without knocking, he entered, causing the three girls inside to jump in surprise. He paid no attention to their activities though, and outright ignored the older-looking ones in favour of focusing on Illyasviel.

"Here." He said, his voice emotionless, holding the accursed thing out to her. "Take this and keep it out of my sight."

His piece said, he walked away immediately after she'd taken it from his hand, vowing to never again pay any attention at all to any kind of walnut, and to order everyone in his family do to the same.

Except Illyasviel. She now had the task of keeping that cursed object under control.

---

Omake end.

Let us read forever.

Ted out.