Fate/Hijacked
Chapter 5
Back at the Emiya Estate, the soft light of early evening streamed through the windows as Shirou closed the front door behind him, sighing in both relief and exhaustion. After everything that had happened at the school—the confrontation with Shinji, Rider's assault, and narrowly avoiding the blood-draining effects of Blood Fort Andromeda—he was ready to collapse.
But Lady Avalon had other plans.
The moment they stepped inside, she whirled around to face Shirou, her eyes glimmering with a mix of mischief and concern. "Oh my, my dear Master," she purred, her voice dripping with exaggerated worry. "Look at you, all bruised and battered! Why didn't you tell me Rider did so much damage?"
Shirou glanced down at himself in confusion. He had a few scratches and some soreness from Rider's earlier attacks, but nothing life-threatening or serious. "I'm fine," he muttered, brushing off her concern with a wave of his hand. "These aren't even bad injuries. You don't have to fuss over me."
But Lady Avalon would not be deterred. Her pinkish red eyes gleamed with delight, and she quickly closed the distance between them, her hands fluttering over his arms and shoulders. "Nonsense!" she declared, placing her palm against his chest with an almost theatrical gesture. "As your devoted Servant, it's my duty to ensure you're in peak condition." She leaned in close, whispering teasingly, "And besides, I just love taking care of you, darling."
Shirou flushed red, stepping back slightly as her proximity and words sent a wave of embarrassment through him. "I-I told you, I'm fine!"
His protests only seemed to amuse Lady Avalon further. She giggled softly, the sound light and playful as she caught his hand in hers. "Oh, don't be shy now, Shirou," she teased, her voice lilting with a soft melody. "If I don't heal you, how could I ever forgive myself if something bad were to happen to my precious Master?"
Without waiting for his permission, she waved her other hand in the air, summoning a gentle glow of magic. Flowers bloomed at her feet as a soothing wave of mana passed from her fingertips to Shirou's body. The minor aches and pains from the battle with Rider melted away, and Shirou felt the magic sink into his muscles like warm sunlight, relaxing and revitalizing him.
"There, all better," Lady Avalon cooed, standing close enough that her sweet lavender scent filled Shirou's senses. She pressed herself against him in a casual, almost affectionate manner, and Shirou's face turned a deeper shade of red.
"Y-you didn't need to do that," he mumbled, trying to step back only to find himself lightly held in place by her playful grip on his arm.
She winked, brushing a stray lock of his hair from his forehead. "Maybe not, but it was fun, wasn't it?" she teased, her tone sly and flirtatious as always. "After all, if I can't dote on my Master from time to time, what kind of Servant would I be?"
Shirou's only response was a flustered huff. She really didn't need to waste her energy on him when he could have recovered fine normally. But it was hard for him to refute her when these antics seemed to genuinely please her.
Dinner that night was a peaceful reprieve from the chaos of the day. Shirou busied himself in the kitchen, chopping fish and preparing a simple, hearty meal while Lady Avalon lounged comfortably in the dining room, humming to herself as she watched him work. When the food was finally ready, Shirou set the dishes out on the table. Lady Avalon's eyes lit up the moment she saw the spread—a modest, but well-cooked meal of rice, grilled fish, and miso soup.
"Mmm," she purred as she took her first bite. "This is incredible, Shirou! You're wasted as a mage—your culinary skills alone could rival the greatest chefs of the age." She placed her chopsticks down for a moment, looking at him with playful sincerity. "In fact, I'd go so far as to say this cooking is your true Noble Phantasm!"
Shirou chuckled, though he felt the heat of embarrassment rise in his cheeks again. "It's just basic cooking," he said modestly, though he appreciated the compliment. "Nothing special."
Lady Avalon shook her head, a wicked grin dancing on her lips. "Oh no, darling, you're far too humble. With food this good, you could summon even the most powerful of Servants with just one dish!" She gave a dramatic sigh. "I'm tempted to steal you away and make you my personal chef for all eternity."
Shirou rolled his eyes at her teasing, but he couldn't help smiling. Dinner passed quickly, filled with more light-hearted banter and playful flirting on Lady Avalon's part, and before long, the day's exhaustion began to weigh heavily on Shirou.
Night had fallen over the Emiya household, and Shirou stood by his futon, stretching his arms as he prepared for bed. The day had been long, and the weight of everything that had happened was beginning to catch up with him. All he wanted now was a few hours of restful sleep before whatever new chaos tomorrow would bring.
But as he turned to lie down, he found himself face-to-face with Lady Avalon, who had sauntered up to him with a slow, deliberate pace. The mischievous glint in her eyes and the sly smile on her lips sent an immediate warning signal to Shirou's brain.
"Um, what is it?" he asked warily, backing up a step as she got closer.
Lady Avalon, ever the picture of grace and elegance, tilted her head with an air of faux innocence. "Oh, nothing too important," she said sweetly. "I just wanted to talk about my... mana reserves."
Shirou blinked. "Your mana reserves?"
She nodded, stepping closer until the distance between them was almost nonexistent. "You see, darling, I put in so much effort today saving you from Rider and then defeating her. All that magical work has left me feeling a little drained."
Her tone was sultry, and the look she gave him sent his heart racing, for a multitude of reasons. Shirou swallowed nervously. "I, uh, I see."
Lady Avalon's smile widened as she leaned in, her face inches from his. "And since I'm feeling a little low on mana, I was wondering if you wouldn't mind helping me... replenish it." She ran her fingers lightly along his arm, the gesture sending a shiver through Shirou. "After all, mana transfers are essential for maintaining a Servant's strength."
Shirou's heart pounded in his chest as the implication of her words sank in. His face flushed red as he remembered the last time they had discussed and participated in a "mana transfer." "L-Lady Avalon, I don't think—"
"Oh, don't be so shy," she teased, her voice a mix of flirtation and laughter. "You've already helped me once before, haven't you? I promise I won't bite... much."
Shirou's protest died in his throat as she gently guided him toward the futon, her touch light but firm. He was too flustered to argue, though part of him wondered whether he was even capable of resisting her playful advances.
Lady Avalon giggled softly as she leaned in closer, her lips brushing lightly against his ear. "Let's make this enjoyable for both of us, shall we, darling?"
Omake
Throne of Heroes: Artoria's Wrath, Part 5
Artoria Pendragon, seated in the Throne of Heroes, was on the verge of an explosion. She had already spent what felt like an eternity watching the events unfold between Shirou and that shameless, flirtatious woman who had stolen her place in the Fifth Holy Grail War.
But this... this was too much.
The mere thought of Lady Avalon—that ridiculous, half-succubus imposter—using Shirou's injuries as an excuse to get close to him, to touch him and tease him, was enough to make Artoria grind her teeth in frustration.
"Mana transfer?!" she shouted, standing up from her seat. "Again?! This woman has no shame whatsoever!"
Artoria's fists clenched at her sides as she imagined the scene. That brazen, deceitful Servant was twisting the concept of mana transfers just to... just to—
Artoria's face turned red with anger. "Shameless thief! She's using every opportunity to get close to him, and poor Shirou doesn't even know what he's gotten himself into!"
She paced back and forth, her cape swirling behind her in agitation. "How is it that she gets to be there with him, while I—I, who was meant to be his protector—am stuck watching from here?"
Artoria let out an exasperated sigh, glaring off into the distance as if she could somehow will herself into the Fifth Holy Grail War. "That ridiculous succubus Merlin better at least keep him safe and help him to become stronger for himself. Otherwise..."
A distant, amused chuckle echoed from nowhere in particular, and Artoria clenched her jaw. Damn Merlin. Both of them.
Omake 2
The Nameless Chef and Unlimited Kitchen Woks
In the future, Shirou Emiya had become a legend—though not in the way anyone expected. No longer known as the "Master of Pretender" or the "Hero of Justice," he was now infamous throughout the Mage's Association as the "Nameless Chef". A wandering culinary savant, Shirou traversed the globe, rescuing those in need not with swords or spells, but with five-star meals that could make even the sternest magus weep with joy.
At the Clock Tower, whispers of his culinary prowess spread like wildfire. Rumour had it that his dishes were so sublime they could restore mana reserves faster than any elixir, heal spiritual injuries quicker than a High Thaumaturgy spell, and calm even the most volatile magical circuits with a single bite. Yet, while his cooking was legendary, the method behind his magic was an enigma—until the day he was cornered by several high-ranking mages, eager to uncover the secret of his power.
In a hidden corner of the Clock Tower, inside a grand dining hall, the stage was set. Shirou stood behind a gleaming countertop, his apron as pristine as ever, while the crowd of curious mages and professors gathered before him. Lorelei Barthomeloi herself crossed her arms sceptically, eyeing him like a hawk.
"You may have eluded us for years, Emiya, but today you will show us what makes your cooking... special," she commanded, her voice cold as ice.
With a resigned sigh, Shirou rubbed the back of his head. "I told you, it's just basic cooking. Nothing special."
Lorelei narrowed her eyes. "We know that you have a Reality Marble. Activate it. Now."
Shirou hesitated for a moment, then exhaled deeply. "Fine... but you won't understand what you're asking for."
He closed his eyes, reaching deep within himself, to that place where all the swords and weapons of the past had once resided. But no more. Ever since Lady Avalon had trained him to hone his true talent, something profound had shifted. The familiar incantation rang through his mind, though it had changed over the years:
"I am the bone of my ladle,
Rice is my body, and broth is my blood.
I have cooked over a thousand meals,
Unknown to hunger, nor known to fullness.
Have withstood heat to create countless dishes,
Yet these hands will never hold a sword.
So, as I pray—
Unlimited Kitchen Woks."
The air shimmered around him, and suddenly the Clock Tower's grand hall transformed. Instead of barren wastelands filled with swords, the mages found themselves standing in a colossal kitchen that stretched endlessly into the horizon. Endless rows of countertops gleamed, stocked with rare ingredients from all corners of the world. The sky above was filled with floating spice jars, clouds made of flour, and rivers of stock that simmered with rich aromas. Massive grills and ovens lined the horizon, roaring with fire that could cook a meal to perfection in seconds.
And then there were the tools—oh, the tools. Legendary weapons Shirou had once analysed were now transformed into kitchen utensils of unimaginable power. Caliburn was no longer a sword, but a radiant chef's knife that could slice through anything with surgical precision. The Gae Bolg had been reshaped into a perfect skewering tool, ensuring kebabs that never missed their mark. Rule Breaker? Now it was a spatula so sharp that it could undo any culinary disaster in an instant.
The onlookers gasped as Shirou casually summoned Kanshou and Bakuya, now a perfectly balanced set of frying pans, their handles glimmering with magical energy. With a quick flick of his wrist, he tossed ingredients into the pans, causing bursts of steam and flame to explode in a dazzling display of culinary artistry.
Lorelei Barthomeloi, despite herself, found her mouth watering as Shirou tossed a cut of meat onto the grill—its searing hiss like music to the ears of all present. The smell of herbs, butter, and sizzling beef filled the air as he worked effortlessly, guiding the enchanted utensils like a maestro conducting an orchestra.
In minutes, plates of food began to appear before the astonished audience. Dishes they had never seen or tasted before, so exquisitely prepared that even those who had no interest in food felt compelled to try them.
Lorelei took a single bite and immediately froze. Her eyes widened, her icy façade cracking for the first time in years. "This... this is impossible," she whispered, the taste overwhelming her senses. "It's... it's perfect."
Shirou gave a sheepish grin. "It's just basic cooking."
By the time the meal was finished, every mage present was left in a state of blissful stupor. They had come seeking the secrets of his power, but now all they could think about was how to convince him to stay and cook for them forever.
As Shirou cleaned up the plates, wiping down his enchanted wok, Lorelei approached him, still trying to maintain her composure. "Emiya," she began, her voice softer than before, "If you ever grow tired of wandering, the Clock Tower could use someone with your... talents."
Shirou simply smiled and shook his head. "Thanks, but I'm not interested in politics. There are still plenty of people out there who need saving. Not with swords or magic, but with a hot meal." He turned, his apron fluttering behind him as he made his exit. "Besides, I've got a special someone waiting at home. She tends to get... upset if I'm late for dinner."
As he disappeared from view, leaving behind the remnants of his magical feast, one thing became clear to everyone present:
The "Nameless Chef" was truly an unstoppable force—not through battle or magecraft, but through the unparalleled power of cooking. And as long as there were hungry people to feed, his journey would continue, one dish at a time.
Unlimited Kitchen Woks—a Reality Marble of culinary legend.
