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.

43. The Trials (2)

The Trials (2)

---

It had taken a liberal application of Hypnotism, a few faked resumes, and several well-placed lies, but in the end, Rin had kept her word and had gotten Sakura, Ayako, and herself into Kaneshiro Yoko's office.

And yes, every bit of deception and trickery had been necessary to make that happen. When Sakura had stated that Kaneshiro Yoko was the owner of a large shipping company, she had been speaking the truth, but she had also been massively understating it.

A shipping company? More like a shipping empire! Kaneshiro's company had thousands of boats and tankers spread out over more than a hundred countries, she had branches and daughter companies everywhere in the world, and her corporation took care of nearly five percent of the world's total shipping trade, earning her billions upon billions of American dollars every year.

And she didn't limit herself to 'just' the shipping trade either. She was also involved in numerous agricultural companies in Eastern Asia, a dozen or so car manufacturing plants in Japan, and she even owned several research complexes in the United States that focused on developing medicine.

Kaneshiro Yoko was an insanely successful woman, which meant she was also insanely busy. Under normal circumstances, the girls wouldn't have stood a snowball's chance in hell of ever meeting her.

Rin's Hypnosis and talent at fraud had managed to get them inside however. They were in Kaneshiro's office now, having ensured that they had about an hour to interrogate the woman in private, and Ayako was all primed to bring her the bad news about Paris-san's death.

Likely, the woman would be devastated, like judge Koyama and the idol Nagao, but Ayako was prepared for that. She had numerous comforting words ready on the tip of her tongue, and she'd taken a pack of tissues with her.

She was completely prepared for any kind of emotional reaction.

But then she laid eyes on Kaneshiro herself, and all words remained stuck in her throat.

"And who might you be?"

The question was asked in a voice that was surprisingly low for a woman, almost ridiculously so.

"I don't recall having an appointment with teenagers today."

The owner of the voice slowly got up from behind her desk, keeping a close eye on the girls, studying them carefully to find any sign of a wicked motive.

"The guards should have stopped you long before you got anywhere near here. That's what I pay them for. How did you manage to get past them?"

Kaneshiro Yoko fired off the questions one by one, but Ayako didn't answer to any of them. She was too busy gawking at the woman.

Not because she was beautiful, or particularly exotic, or strangely dressed, but because she was huge.

Kaneshiro Yoko was massive! Almost gigantic even, to a degree Ayako had never seen before, in men or in women.

Standing over two metres tall, with legs like tree trunks and arms as big as Sakura's waist, clad in a specifically tailored suit, Kaneshiro Yoko cut a very intimidating figure. Her eyes were black, her hair was cropped very short, and three deep, white scars ran vertically over her left eye.

Her presence was dominating, her glare bone-chilling, and Ayako suddenly found herself incredibly grateful that they had Rin with them. If things got violent, her Magecraft might be the only advantage they had.

Not that she was even remotely planning on doing anything violent, but one never knew. Kaneshiro really was an intimidating woman.

"How we got past the guards is not important." Sakura eventually replied, smiling her beautiful smile, thoroughly impressing Ayako by how composed she was in front of this giantess. "We are here because we want to inform you of Carlton Paris' death."

"Carlton kicked the bucket?" The black eyes widened in shock for a fraction of a second, before they immediately went back to a neutral position. "How unfortunate."

"He was murdered." Sakura clarified, her smile disappearing at the heavy topic. "His body was buried near the Ryuudou-temple, and it was only recently discovered. That is why you haven't heard anything from him in several months now."

"I see." Kaneshiro nodded, rubbing her square jaw thoughtfully. "So that means he didn't leave the city without telling any of us. If, at least, what you're telling me is the truth."

"It is." Ayako professed before Sakura could, gaining some heart from the lack of violence so far. "We were the ones who found the body. The police confirmed it was Paris-san, but because he was a gigolo, they will probably try to sweep the case under the rug."

"So you decided to visit his clients and tell them about him biting it?" Kaneshiro lifted a single eyebrow. "How kind of you. I suppose you are not willing to tell me how you found out about my relationship with him?"

"Your letters to him." Rin replied shortly.

"He kept those?" The large woman seemed surprised by that, and even slightly touched. "Surprising. I wouldn't have thought they meant anything to him."

"I'm sure they did."

"Perhaps." Kaneshiro looked unsure for a moment, but the crack in her rough exterior disappeared quickly. "Well, thank you for telling me about Carlton. Good luck on the rest of your trip to tell his other clients."

"Wha?" Ayako blinked once, her brain not quite catching up with what Kaneshiro said.

"I am a busy woman. I have no time to waste on crying or talking about dead lovers. I have work to do." The large woman said gruffly, turning her face away. "Since you found your way in here perfectly well, I take it you can show yourselves out too."

"But-" Ayako began to protest, but she fell silent when Sakura grabbed her wrist and lightly shook her head.

"I think Kaneshiro-san is the type of person to bury her feelings under work." The plum-haired girl whispered. "We shouldn't push her. Let her deal with her grief in her own way."

"Ah, right. Makes sense." Ayako nodded, feeling slightly relieved her girlfriend had stopped her before she'd made a fool out of herself.

"Are you not worried we'll tell people about your relationship with Carlton Paris?" Sakura asked curiously, letting go of Ayako again. "Naga- ah, that is, some of the other women we visited were very concerned about that."

"I don't care if you tell people. You can shout it from every rooftop in the city and I wouldn't give a damn." Kaneshiro shrugged uncaringly as she walked back to her desk. "What's one more scandal on top of all the others?"

"All the others?" Rin sounded almost afraid to ask.

"The usual stuff that happens in the shipping business. I've been accused of exploiting my employees, dodging taxes, bribing city-officials, and recently, of trading in conflict-diamonds." Kaneshiro's expression had been fairly neutral so far, but when she spoke of the diamonds, her lips pulled taut. "That I have been sleeping with a gigolo is nothing compared to that."

"Right." Rin mumbled, before her eyes narrowed. "Say, these rumours, they wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that you're a woman, would they?"

"They don't." Kaneshiro shook her head immediately. "I understand why you would think that, but no. This type of mudslinging happens to everyone in the high classes of society. It is an inescapable fact of high life, regardless of gender."

"Regardless of gender? That is surprising to hear." Ayako remarked, before she smiled. "Positively so, of course."

"Don't go thinking now that the shipping business is in any way welcoming to women." Kaneshiro warned her gruffly, crossing her beefy arms. "It's still very much a man's world. In fact, the only 'glass ceiling' my peers have ever heard of is a café in Tokyo where the first-floor ceiling is actually made of glass and the waitresses on the second floor don't wear panties under their mini-skirts."

"…Out of academic interest, where is this café exactly?" Ayako asked, leaning forward while pressing the tips of her fingers together. "It is imperative that you tell me."

"Ignore her." Rin promptly knocked Ayako on the head. "Let's get back on track. Is there anything more you can tell us about Carlton Paris?"

"Our relationship was strictly business." Kaneshiro gave Rin a curious look, no doubt wondering why Rin wanted to know about her former 'employee', but she answered readily enough. "I know very little about him. If you want to know more, I suggest you visit Sumida Gina."

"We have heard her name before." Rin nodded. "Is she likely to help us?"

"Definitely." Kaneshiro didn't hesitate for a second to give the answer. "She is good-natured, beautiful like a dream, kind, supportive, sweet, and utterly foolish. She always helps those who ask her for aid, even if she would have been better off ignoring them."

"She sounds like a wonderful person." Sakura smiled.

"She is." Kaneshiro nodded, her expression turning a bit dreamy. "But so, so stupid. Men are always taking advantage of her. I've tried to warn her, many times, but she just doesn't get it. There were moments when I wanted to take her into my arms and never let go, to protect her from the world."

"This made a rather sudden U-turn into yuri." Ayako mumbled, softly enough that the woman didn't hear her, though Rin bonked her on the head again. "Ow."

"Back when the two of us still regularly made use of Carlton's services, she often talked my ear off about him." Kaneshiro continued. "I didn't really listen of course, but if you are interested in what she has to say, you can visit her yourselves."

"We will." Rin nodded sharply, before slowly stepping back, gesturing for Ayako and Sakura to do the same. "We'll leave you to your work now. Have a pleasant evening, Kaneshiro-san."

"Hm." The woman nodded gruffly. "You as well, kids. Good luck with your investigation."

---

It was the second day of the trials, at nine o'clock sharp in the morning, and most of the people who had attended the day before were present again.

Shirou too had returned, mostly because of his promise to Lady Montmorency and Lady Barthomeloi, and once more, he sat to Lady Barthomeloi's left.

He'd brought the treasures that he was going to show to Lord El-Melloi with him, in a large bag he'd just set to the side, and although Lady Barthomeloi had glanced at it with some curiosity, she'd yet to comment on it.

"Fujimaru." She then spoke up, drawing Shirou's attention as she looked at him with an impassive gaze. "Grover Meluastea was executed yesterday, and his remains are set to be burned this evening, once the Litanies of Protection have been delivered by the Church and the necessary Bounded Fields have been set."

"I see." Shirou mumbled, his own gaze darkening as he remembered that malicious and evil creature that had somehow managed to pretend it was a man. "Thank you."

"Your gratitude is misplaced. He was always going to be executed." Lady Barthomeloi jerked her chin to the side in a motion that seemed almost bashful. "Hastening the process was a small matter."

"Nevertheless, I do appreciate-"

"Quiet, you two." Lady Montmorency interrupted them, making a shushing motion. "The trial's starting again."

Indeed, barely a few seconds later, the bailiff arrived in the courtroom, the same one as yesterday, looking proud and regal in his golden armour and helmet adorned with red feathers. Once he came into view, most conversations in the hall ceased, and the bailiff's glare ended the remaining ones.

From there on, basically everything went the same as it did on the first day. The judges came in, then the attorneys and prosecutors, the bailiff demanded silence again, and then the senior judge called in the first accused.

"Bring in Carla Meluastea." The senior judge said calmly, his voice, which had been very passionate the previous day, now unusually even and controlled, and whispered conversations started up yet again as it turned out that yet another member of that family had survived so far.

Shirou himself was mainly surprised by how many members that family had in the first place. They'd convicted over twenty-five members of the Meluastea the day before, and there were apparently still some left.

They must have, to put it in a crass way, bred like rabbits.

Soon after the judge made his announcement, the doors opened again, and a pretty goth-like girl was brought inside by the guards. She put up a good show of looking composed, though Shirou was able to spot she was terribly nervous.

That wasn't necessarily strange, as most people brought in for their trial so far had been on the range of nervous to terrified out of their minds, but what made it unusual in Carla's case was that the nervousness was not for herself, but for others.

The goth girl was made to sit down in the accused's chair, and then the senior judge took the word again.

"Carla Meluastea. You stand accused of numerous crimes-"

And Shirou zoned out again.

That continuously repeated rehearsal of crimes really was getting tedious, and the redhead dreaded having to listen to it for six days more. He'd better find something else to do or think about while that was ongoing, or he'd go crazy.

It seemed most Magi thought along the same lines as he did, as many of the people in the hall had pulled out magazines, newspapers, or other reading materials, and even Lady Barthomeloi let her gaze wander as the judge kept on talking.

Lady Montmorency however paid rapt attention to the trial, and Shirou didn't doubt she was using her administrative super-brain to burn everything that happened today into her memory.

Frankly, better her than him.

Eventually, he made eye-contact with Lady Barthomeloi, and, having nothing better to do, jerked his head towards Carla Meluastea in askance.

"Like her brother Rudolph Meluastea, she more or less willingly cooperated with the purge, aiding me in finding and capturing her relatives." Lady Barthomeloi explained shortly in a very soft voice, so not to disturb Lady Montmorency. "Furthermore, she hasn't committed any egregious crimes herself, so I decided to show leniency."

"Will she be fully acquitted like her brother yesterday?"

"That is our intention." Lady Barthomeloi nodded.

"Isn't that overly generous for a few hours of services rendered?" Shirou asked sceptically.

"There are more reasons for their acquittal than just those services." Lady Barthomeloi informed him, her tone mysterious.

Shirou considered asking about those other reasons, but at that point, the judge had finished reading up the list of Carla Meluastea's crimes and gotten to the verdict itself.

"Because of services rendered and her exemplary record as a researcher and team-leader over the past decade, Carla Meluastea is cleared of all charges." The judge announced, just as Lady Barthomeloi had predicted.

Shirou looked at the young woman, expecting the same mix of confusion and relief as he'd seen in Rudolph the day before, but was surprised to find Carla still looking fearful.

"Furthermore, the members of her team are also acquitted of their misdeeds, provided they obey the terms and conditions set for them by the Department of Policies." The judge went on.

And there was the relief that Shirou had been expecting. Apparently, Carla cared a lot about her team, enough to worry more about their sentence than her own.

Carla's acquittal generated a small buzz from the crowd, but it was nowhere near the bomb that had gone off after Rudolph Meluastea had been cleared of all charges. Apparently, it was no longer as surprising.

"By virtue of seniority, Carla Meluastea shall now become the new head of the Meluastea-family." The judge then continued. "Although it is no longer a Ruling Family and the Department of Archaeology shall be stripped from them, they shall retain the possessions that are left after the fines and repayments have been subtracted from it."

The news that the Meluastea were definitely going to survive, as a family even, got a louder reaction from the crowd, but unlike the day before, Lady Barthomeloi didn't let the situation get out of hand.

"Silence." She demanded once Carla Meluastea had left the courtroom, and her order was obeyed immediately. "Carry on with the trials."

"At once!" The judge replied, standing up straight, before smashing his gavel down in a show of motivation. "Bring in Lysanne Saward."

And from there, things continued as normal, with Lysanne Saward being sentenced to having all her possessions be taken from her and to having to work for the rest of her life to pay off the remainder of her debt to her many blackmail-victims.

The fact that all these victims were still alive and well prevented her from getting a heavier punishment, but the judge wasn't going easy on her nevertheless.

"Didn't she have an accomplice?" Shirou asked after lady Saward had been taken out of the hall again. "I recall there were two people in Saward's Workshop back then."

"Millicent Archibald." Lady Barthomeloi confirmed. "You will not see her put on trial today however. Lord El-Melloi is in negotiation with us to lessen her punishment, and until that matter has been resolved, she will not appear in public."

"I see." Shirou said with a nod, making a note to offer Lord El-Melloi his help, should the man require it.

"Could I inquire as to what you have in that bag?" Lady Barthomeloi suddenly switched the subject, her tone indicating she'd been wanting to ask that for some time now.

"Nothing special." Shirou shrugged, avoiding any details in his statement, as it was a matter between him and Lord El-Melloi for now. "Just some family stuff I am hoping to sell here soon."

"Are you in need of money?" Lady Barthomeloi asked, and Shirou could almost swear there was a glint of concern in her eyes. It was gone though before he could confirm its existence. "If so, my family could provide support-"

"There is no need. I am not short of money myself. There is simply something I want to do that will cost me quite a sum." Shirou shook his head, quickly nipping even the mere suggestion of borrowing money from the Barthomeloi in the bud. "I cannot talk about it now though. It's something between me and Lord El-Melloi."

"…Very well." The brunette nodded after a moment of silence. "If you are certain. My offer still stands though."

"Noted, and thank you."

After that, neither Shirou nor Lady Barthomeloi spoke a word, both finding something else to pay attention to.

It wasn't an uncomfortable silence though. Not at all.

---

Fiore Forvedge unironically loved the Clocktower.

While many accurately described the place as a pool of sharks, a garden of assassins, a cesspit of sins, and a great deal of other such flattering adages, to Fiore, it had been something of a home, the only one she'd ever had.

Her family's estate had never been a home to her. It would have to be a little more… homely, to be considered such. It wasn't homely though, not by any stretch of the word, and even the presence of her mother and little brother had done nothing to make Fiore feel any fondness for the place.

At least at the Clocktower, she was free from the overwhelming pressure of having to be the best in the family at all times, free from her grandfather's whims, and free from the relatives that were always looking to trip her up. At the Clocktower, she'd made wonderful friends, Marie Alva and Rosaly von Stahlen-Frobrecht, and she could spend all her time on research that she genuinely enjoyed.

Some people might not consider that to be much, but to Fiore, it had been heaven. To her, the Clocktower was her home.

Being forced to return to her family's estate for a while had been akin to torture for Fiore, and she'd left that place again at the earliest opportunity, hurrying back to her true home.

Only to find that home not as she left it.

In her half-year absence, everything seemed to have broken down. Marie had been missing, Rosaly had been close to a desperate breakdown, her small laboratory had been reclaimed by the family that had rented it to her, and all her ongoing projects had either been destroyed or stolen.

What's more, the Clocktower itself had been in chaos. The Aristocratic Faction was about to declare war on the Neutral Faction, most independent Magi were fleeing the Clocktower as fast as they could, and almost everyone whom Fiore had managed to acquaint during her previous stay now utterly ignored her.

That had been a very bad week, but fortunately, most of those problems had already been resolved now. Marie had been retrieved from the claws of her family, Rosaly and Fiore had somehow managed to survive the fires of battle, and the Aristocratic Faction had won a swift and decisive victory, pretty much ending the war before it had even begun.

But that had not been the end of it. Not by a long shot.

Even though the Aristocratic Faction had won the war in less than a day, the fall-out had been enormous and the status-quo completely upended. It would likely take months before a new equilibrium would be reached, and until that time, independent Magi were at a terrible risk.

They were easy prey for any faction or group seeking to improve their standing and number. They would be forcibly recruited through cajoling, bribery, blackmail, or even outright threats, and as long as the Department of Policies was wrapped up in their post-war efforts, there was no one who'd put in even a modicum of effort to stop this.

Having no great political power or financial power of their own, nor the magical power required to offset such disadvantages, Fiore, Rosaly, and Marie were very vulnerable to such tactics. They had to be exceedingly careful during these hectic times not to get snapped up by unsavoury types, and since fighting or fleeing was not possible for them, hiding was their only recourse.

That was why they were currently staying in Fiore's room, located in the general dormitories of the Clocktower. They'd holed up there ever since the purge ended, and they were perfectly willing to stay there for a good while longer.

It wasn't the bravest of options, but Magi weren't meant to be brave anyway. They were meant to survive, and it was common knowledge that if you couldn't fight or run, you needed to hide instead.

Fiore's room was fairly suited for that. It might have been meant for just one person, but since they were at the Clocktower, where everything was needlessly extravagant, a one-person room offered enough space for two people to live comfortably and three if they were fine with things getting a bit cramped.

The only thing lacking about it were its defences. Fiore's room was meant as a living space for an apprentice Magus after all, not a defensible position or fortress. The room did have a few Bounded Fields, but any sufficiently determined Magus would have no great trouble getting through them.

Which was why the girls were exercising constant vigilance to protect themselves. They always kept an eye on the door, never completely let their guard down, and even took turns keeping watch in the night, so they wouldn't be taken by surprise in their sleep.

They had made some attempts to improve the defences and to develop better means for self-protection, but as they lacked the required materials, they had eventually given up on that.

At this point, they just passed the time by reading, talking to each other, playing games, and whatever else they could come up with. It had felt a bit wasteful at first, lazing through the days like that, but Fiore also had to admit it was actually quite enjoyable. If she forgot about the exact circumstances that had forced them to stay together, she could almost pretend it was like one of those 'sleepovers' she'd always heard about in popular fiction books.

However, hiding in her room brought its own fair share of troubles with it.

"She is still barely eating." Rosaly muttered, leaning down to bring her head at the same level as Fiore's, looking with pain in her eyes at Marie, who was sleeping at the dining table, her head in her arms and her plate of food almost untouched before her. "Only one potato, two carrots, and I don't think she even looked at the meat."

"She is tired." Fiore whispered softly, reclining in her wheelchair. "And still in shock about what happened to her. It is not surprising that her appetite is very small. Frankly, I'm already very glad she isn't having constant nightmares."

"Yes, I am also very glad she is able to sleep so well, and that she can smile and laugh when she is talking with us." Rosaly nodded sharply, before she pursed her lips. "But this cannot continue. After… what happened, Marie needs to regain her strength. If she doesn't eat, she'll never recover."

"I know." Fiore suppressed a very deep sigh as she looked at her poor friend. "But we cannot force her to eat if she doesn't want to."

"Then we must tempt her." Rosaly argued, but Fiore just shook her head.

They'd had this discussion numerous times already, basically every day since the purge had ended, but they hadn't gotten anywhere with it. They had tried numerous avenues to make Marie eat properly, but so far, without success.

It didn't get better over time either. If anything, it got worse. The potato and two carrots that Rosaly had mentioned? They were the only thing Marie had eaten all day.

"She ate less than yesterday, and yesterday, she ate less than the day before." Rosaly was close to tears at this point. "What if she stops eating entirely tomorrow?"

"With any luck, the day after tomorrow will be better." Fiore stated, putting her hand on Rosaly's shoulder. "After her father, mother, and sister have been convicted."

"Ah!" Rosaly's eyes went wide, and she looked at the calendar. "Of course! Their trials are in two days, aren't they?"

"Yes." Fiore nodded, again looking at the girl sleeping at the dining table. "I think that's why she has been so down lately. She doesn't know what to feel."

"Shouldn't she just be feeling glad?" Rosaly lifted an eyebrow. "I would be glad."

"Would you though?" Fiore challenged her, feeling the other girl was taking the situation too lightly. "Would you be glad if your family was about to be put on trial? A trial where they are certain to be sentenced to death?"

"W-Well, n-no, I…" Fiore's question brought Rosaly up short, and the redhead looked away, unwilling to imagine such a scenario. "But… But that's because my family is nice. Marie's family is evil! They hurt her!"

"But they are still her family, the people whom she had lived with for all her life." Fiore countered. "And you can't just let go of that in a month."

Life would be so much easier if you could, but that just wasn't how it worked. Not even for Fiore.

"…Marie was indeed pretty conflicted about going to her family's trial." Rosaly agreed after a moment, rubbing the back of her head, before she gave a short bark of laughter. "Shows what I know! I thought she would have been eager to see it."

"Yeah, I expected that she would be too." Fiore mumbled slowly. "As you said, her family's treatment of her was positively vile."

It was by no means unusual for Magi-children to be treated badly by their families, but Marie Alva's fate had been a particularly cruel one, even among Magi worldwide.

Her own family, her parents, had changed her into a Dead Apostle, a monster created solely for the purpose of destroying humanity, and had then chained her to a table and brutally sliced her apart for months. It was the kind of horror story that edgy teenagers would tell each other about at a campfire, or that would feature in particularly gruesome slasher films, but to Marie, it had been a painful reality.

Her own father had tormented her without end while her mother stood by and watched, openly approving of his conduct. They had twisted her very nature, tortured her for months, and, if it hadn't been for the last-second intervention of a Sorcerer, they would have put her down like a diseased animal.

But despite all that, Marie could not bring herself to feel any enthusiasm about their trial and subsequent execution. She was just tired, spent, and utterly done. She had no intention of ever laying eyes on them again if she could at all help it. Not even to see them squirm, beg, and cry.

She had moved on, and she was completely fine with how things were now.

Or at least, so she claimed.

Fiore didn't believe her though. Nobody could go through such an ordeal and come out alright. The fact that Marie was barely eating was proof enough that she was still very troubled by what had happened to her, and Fiore feared that Marie wasn't going to be able to work through it on her own any time soon.

Marie needed help, professional help, and while Fiore and Rosaly were planning on getting her that help once the status-quo had been restored and things had settled down again, that didn't help Marie now.

They had to do something right this moment, or Marie might not live to see next month.

"I have been thinking." Rosaly spoke up again, slowly taking place on the sofa in the living room. "We may have been going about this completely the wrong way."

"What do you mean?" Fiore asked, rolling her wheelchair over to the sofa as well.

"We have been isolating ourselves in here, with nothing to do, allowing Marie to spend the whole day doing nothing but thinking about what happened to her." Rosaly explained. "I think that might have been counter-productive."

"You think we should have provided her with a distraction?" Fiore asked, rolling a bit closer to her friend again. "More than we have been doing already I mean?"

"Our 'distractions' so far have been limited to small talk and reading books. I don't think those are going to provide the distraction she needs." Rosaly shook her head. "It has to be bigger."

"…Like going outside?" Fiore finally realised what Rosaly was getting at. "Actually doing something productive."

"Exactly." The redhead nodded.

Fiore did not know what to think about that. On one hand, she did agree that just sitting around in her room for who-knew-how-many-more weeks was a bad idea. Fiore had already caught herself overthinking matters a few times, and it had to be much worse for Marie.

On the other hand, there was a reason they were hiding, and that reason was still very much valid. The brunette really didn't fancy being hunted down by unscrupulous types, who would pressure her, blackmail her, or even threaten her into joining their faction.

It seemed Rosaly had already thought about that though.

"We go out during dinner." The redhead stated, leaning forward with a martial expression on her face. "We stick to the busiest places, making sure never to be alone anywhere. We keep an eye out for people following us or looking at us weirdly, and we always stick together. It'll be difficult, but I really do think it's possible to go outside and return safely."

"I'm not so sure." Fiore wanted to agree with her friend, she really did, but caution forced her to remain on the fence. "Preferably, I'd like some more insurance that we will make it back to my room unharmed and unfollowed."

"…" Rosaly's expression became complicated, and she rubbed her chin, clearly trying to think of something to set Fiore at ease.

"Is there no one we can ask for help?" Fiore eventually asked after Rosaly had remained silent for several minutes.

"We already discussed that. We don't have any contacts we can rely on here." The redhead shook her head, pursing her lips. "We enjoyed our freedom and independence too much to spend any time on making friends and allies over the past years."

"A mistake, in hindsight." Fiore acknowledged. They really should have found themselves a sponsor while they could, for both guidance, and, more importantly right now, protection, but they'd neglected to do so, and now they were paying the price for their foolishness. "But it is not too late to rectify it."

"You want to find a sponsor now?" Rosaly asked sceptically. "Anyone who's halfway competent will smell our desperation from a mile away. That can never end well."

"We could try Lord El-Melloi." Fiore tried, floating the idea she'd been harbouring for a while now. "He seems reasonable."

"I doubt we're the only ones thinking that at this point in time." Rosaly smiled wryly, crossing her arms. "Asking him to be our sponsor right after he gained so much power… Yeah, I'm sure he'll welcome us with open arms, us and all the others having the same idea."

"There is no need to get sarcastic." Fiore frowned, lightly swatting the redhead's arm.

"Right, sorry." Rosaly apologised with a sigh, before she shook her head. "My point stands though. Lord El-Melloi becoming our sponsor might benefit us a great deal, but it won't benefit him."

"Then we'll have to make sure we do benefit him." Fiore said decisively, before holding up a hand when Rosaly made to protest. "I know it is a long shot, and unlikely to work out, but we should try at least."

"But that's-"

"I agree." A third voice suddenly interjected, and Fiore and Rosaly quickly turned around to find Marie standing behind them, her eyes half-closed in sleepiness and her hair in disarray. "If it's Lord El-Melloi, the worst thing he can do is say no."

"Marie!" Rosaly whined, clutching at her heart. "Don't sneak up on us like that! How long have you been standing there?!"

"I wasn't sneaking though?" Marie protested, looking honestly bewildered. "I woke up when you talked about sponsors, and then I walked over because I wanted to talk as well. I'm quite sure I made a lot of noise while doing so."

Which meant that she had missed the part where Fiore and Rosaly had been discussing her mental issues, something that honestly relieved Fiore, even while it also filled her with shame for talking behind her friend's back.

"We were planning on stepping out soon." Rosaly replied bluntly, making Fiore wince slightly at her tone. "Staying cooped up like this for much longer isn't healthy, so we tried to make a plan for an outing."

"Where to?"

"We hadn't gotten that far yet." Rosaly admitted. "The cafeteria perhaps?"

"It would be nice to have someone else cooking for us for a change." Marie smiled, taking Fiore aback by how easily she agreed. "When do we want to go?"

"No time like the present." Rosaly smiled, to which Marie gave a nod, and Fiore felt progressively more overwhelmed with every word coming out of their mouths. "How about we go out for dinner this evening?"

"Sounds good to me." Marie smiled back at Rosaly, before both girls turned to Fiore, their smiles still on their faces.

Against such peer pressure, there was little the brunette could do. She had her reservations, but in the face of her friends' hopeful looks, those reservations seemed utterly irrelevant.

"Alright. This evening it is." Fiore relented, and she couldn't suppress a smile at the cheers she received in turn.

Said smile shrunk considerably though when she realised it would be the first time Marie had gone on an outing since being freed from her family. It would quite literally be an event that she hadn't expected ever to experience again.

…That truly made it something to celebrate, didn't it?

Fiore's smile returned in full, no, it was even brighter than before, and she rolled her wheelchair over to the other two, smiling and laughing with them again, like she used to.

It was good to be home again.

---

After Carla Meluastea had been acquitted and had been given the lordship of the Meluastea-family, nothing much of import had happened on the second day of the trials.

As such, Shirou immediately excused himself once the senior judge closed the court for the day. He bid his goodbyes to the ladies he was with, before he grabbed the bag with the various treasures he wanted to sell and made his way over to Lord El-Melloi's office.

The lord had apparently also hurried back, for when Shirou arrived, the black-haired man was already sitting at his desk, Lehrman standing next to him. He was calmly reading a report of some kind, though he immediately placed aside once the redhead entered.

"Fujimaru." Lord El-Melloi acknowledged him shortly, leaning forward in clear interest. "I see you brought more of your items."

"I did." Shirou nodded, holding up the bag that was filled with treasures from the Vault. Not Illya's items of course, but still quite valuable.

At least, he hoped they were valuable. The mirror had been a good start, but he'd have to hear from Lord El-Melloi, or perhaps rather Lehrman, whether the rest of his items really were worth any money or not.

"Where is everyone else?" He then decided to ask, noting to his surprise that Lehrman was the only one at the lord's side right now. Even Grey wasn't present, which was exceedingly unusual to say the least.

"The others all had their own responsibilities to attend to." Lord El-Melloi explained, looking at his empty right side, where Grey was supposed to be standing. "I admit it is unusual for me to not be pestered constantly by numerous people, but it seemed everyone had better things to do. Even Grey had to accompany Reines for some matter she wouldn't tell me about."

"I see." Shirou scratched his head for a bit, before he shrugged. "Well then, shall we get to business?"

"Let's." Lord El-Melloi nodded, and Lehrman clapped her hands in enthusiasm, her grin so bright it could have lit up the night's sky. "What did you bring?"

"Yes, what did you bring?!" Lehrman echoed him in a much more enthusiastic voice.

"Just a few items of mine that I no longer have any use for." Shirou replied, before pulling several of said items out the bag. He didn't grab everything yet though, limiting himself to an Enchanted knife, a Ring of Protection, an Eternal Candle, a Water-Purifying Goblet, and several other trinkets and baubles. "What do you think?"

"They certainly look good from here." Lehrman grinned impishly, before picking up the Water-Purifying Goblet. She closely studied it from all angles, going as far as to lift her eyepatch and expose a silver Mystic Eye, and then muttered a short Aria for a type of scanning Magecraft. Judging from the huge grin that appeared immediately after, she must have liked what she saw. "Oh yes, very good indeed."

"This is not bad either." Lord El-Melloi muttered after thoroughly investigating the Enchanted knife, covering his mouth with his hand, a single bead of sweat going down his temple. "Fujimaru?"

"Yes, sir?"

"How did you get hold of these items?"

"They have been in the family for generations." Shirou replied, rather truthfully, since Thor was sort-of family and the god had lived for many human generations indeed. "But since they have been gathering dust in the storage from the moment my forebears claimed them, I figured I might as well sell them."

"That's very practical of you." Lord El-Melloi said, his tone so ambiguous Shirou had no idea whether that was supposed to be a compliment or an insult. "Most Magi would hold on to them, even if they didn't use them. One of their descendants might find use for them after all."

"I have better versions of all the items here." Shirou waved his hand dismissively. "These things will not be missed."

"…Right." Lord El-Melloi rubbed his brow, sighing tiredly, making Shirou wonder what he'd done wrong this time.

"Setting outside all the outrageous things you just said, you really brought us good stuff, Fujimaru." Lehrman took that opportunity to speak up again, holding up the Water-Purifying Goblet. "The ability to completely purify water of any and all impurities is incredible. The matrices of spells and Enchantments that this Goblet would require to do so are undoubtedly immense. What's more, those spells have been sunken into the foundations of its very being, oh, and this material! It looks like gold, but it is much more than that. Normal gold isn't this conductive to Magical Energy, so it must be something else entirely. The prestige of owning this object alone would already be worth tens of millions of pounds to most Magi."

Lehrman's cheeks had turned a glossy red at this point, yet for once, there was no trace left of her normal bubbliness. Her eyes were completely serious as she gazed at the Goblet, even while her mouth was set in a manic smile.

"It can't be that special." Shirou protested, getting slightly unnerved by how intense the pinkette was behaving. "I saw many artefacts in Lady Barthomeloi's office that looked a lot more impressive."

"Those artefacts are in her office so she can show them off." Lord El-Melloi told him, waving the Enchanted Knife around while admiring the green afterglow. "They are priceless treasures that serve as symbols of the Vice-Director's power. I assure you, they are not the norm among Magi."

"Right." Shirou scratched his temple for a bit, before crossing his arms, deciding to head off any questions. "Nevertheless, even if they are as amazing as you claim, I still want to sell these items."

"You have made that clear." Lord El-Melloi nodded, passing on the Enchanted Knife to Lehrman once he'd finished inspecting it himself. "Fortunately, I have a few contacts who can help us with that. I actually contacted several of them last night, and they were very interested in what you have to sell."

"They were?"

"Heavens Almighty, Fujimaru!" The man suddenly ground out, taking Shirou aback with his sudden irritation. "Enough with the humility! You know very well what you did over the last month and how everyone sees you now! Of course people would be interested in anything you have to sell!"

The reprimand echoed in the office for a moment longer, and then the lord sighed again.

"My apologies. I was overly harsh."

"No, you are probably right." Shirou mumbled, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. "I should stop denying reality already."

As unpleasant as it was, there was no escaping the fact that he was now politically important, famous, and a public figure. He no longer was a nobody, and it was high time he stopped acting like one.

It was not only the wrong way to go about things now, it was clearly also annoying a lot of people around him.

"…This knife is even better than the Goblet." Lehrman offered after a few seconds of silence, her voice once again peppy, and both Shirou and Lord El-Melloi jumped on the chance to leave the awkwardness behind them.

"How much can you sell it for?" The lord asked.

"A hundred million pounds." Lehrman said confidently, and Shirou let out a low whistle. "Perhaps even more. By the way, I may already have a buyer for this in mind."

"A buyer?" Shirou asked, prompting the pinkette to continue.

"A collector of blade-shaped Mystic Codes." She explained, slowly drawing her thumb along the flat of the blade. "He's insanely rich, quite eccentric, and completely harmless. If you sell him this knife, you can be completely sure he won't ever use it for nefarious purposes."

"Blade-shaped Mystic Codes, you say?" Shirou parroted, his interest now piqued. "Can you tell me more about this man and his collection?"

"Maybe, with his permission." Lehrman looked away coquettishly. "Can I tell him that you are interested in doing business?"

"…" Not quite sure of it, Shirou looked at Lord El-Melloi for help.

"Tell your contact that Fujimaru might consider selling the knife to him if he directly tells us what he is willing to pay for it." Lord El-Melloi ordered Lehrman, who smiled in response. "If you have any particular wishes about the price though, Fujimaru, now's the time to share them."

Shirou had to think about that for a moment, but aside from money to help the lord with his debts, there really wasn't anything that he wanted.

Except…

"…You said that this potential buyer is a collector of blade-shaped Mystic Codes?" He asked, just to verify.

"Huh, well, yeah, he is." Lehrman confirmed, appearing a bit confused that that was what he'd focused on.

"In that case, I would appreciate it if I could take a look at his collection." Shirou smiled as innocently as he could. "I am rather interested in such Mystic Codes myself, as it happens."

"Ooooh, how shady." Lehrman grinned. "Do I need to worry you're going to steal his Mystic Codes?"

"Not at all, miss Lehrman." Shirou shook his head, again telling nothing but the truth. "I am not going to steal anything from him. I merely wish to take a look."

Since he could literally copy the Mystic Codes through his Tracing-ability, stealing them would be utterly unnecessary and rather stupid too. Yes, something could be said about the originals being the originals and all that, but there was no law that said a copy couldn't be better than the original.

The redhead had had no luck so far with practicing his Tracing at the Clocktower, because of a lack of time and especially means, but if he could get a glimpse of a sizeable collection of blade-shaped Mystic Codes, it would go a long way to make up for that.

Yes, he had Mjolnir and the Mysterious Power, and so far, they had served him very well, but that didn't mean he was going to neglect his extremely unusual and useful ability to copy any and all Mystic Codes that were blade-shaped. He would have to be an utter fool to do that.

"Only take a look, you say?" This time, it was Lehrman who parroted him, her one eye studying him closely, before she nodded. "I… I think that shouldn't be a problem. I'll get back to you on that."

"Alright." Shirou smiled, mentally doing a fist pump in victory.

"I will ask my contacts about people who are interested in the other items." Lord El-Melloi added, before waving his hand towards the objects that hadn't been discussed yet. "I will first need to know though what we have here exactly. I can't offer to sell something if I don't know what it is."

"Of course."

So Shirou began explaining the function of the items to them, making sure to imprint into his memory every instance of mouths falling open, choking on tea, dropping cups from hands, and generally looking utterly flummoxed.

Illya was going to love this.

---

"I-I can't *sniff* b-believe that he's a-actually *sniff* gone." Sumida Gina, the next woman on the list of Carlton Paris' clients, cried softly, tears streaming over her cheeks and onto the ground despite Ayako's best efforts to stop the tide with paper tissues. "H-He always seemed so s-strong! So powerful! Larger than life!"

"There, there, it's alright." Ayako tried to comfort her, grabbing another paper tissue when the current one was fully soaked, desperately wiping away the tears that just kept on coming. "Ooooh, please stop crying!"

"H-He was the o-only one I-I could e-ever trust!" Sumida sobbed, hugging her arms to her chest. "What am I going to do now?! What am I going to do?!"

Sakura smiled as tenderly as she could at the woman, waiting patiently for the worst of the shock to pass. She could empathise with her a little –mainly by imagining what it would be like if Senpai was killed– and thus tried her best to look as sympathetic as possible, even as her girlfriend fumbled around in a minor panic, looking utterly adorable as she did so.

Rin on the other hand was much less patient, as evidenced by her finger's rhythmic tapping on the couch she was seated on, but the black-haired girl also held her silence, waiting with the questioning until Sumida had calmed down a bit.

Their conversation with Sumida Gina was definitely very, very different from the conversation with Kaneshiro Yoko. Where the large woman had taken the news with grace and a stiff upper lip, the heiress was taking it a lot harder, practically bawling her eyes out.

That difference in mental fortitude was also reflected clearly in their physical appearances. Kaneshiro had been a giant of a woman, someone who could knock out ten men at once and probably ate nails for breakfast without any milk, while Sumida was… Well, to put it bluntly, she was a wispy waif.

The heiress was short and frail, with eyes so blue they almost looked clear, a hauntingly beautiful face, and hair that was so bone-white it made her look even frailer than she already did.

No wonder Kaneshiro had expressed the wish to take Sumida into her arms and protect her. This woman almost seemed made to fulfil the role of damsel-in-distress, and her attitude certainly didn't do anything to counteract that image.

Furthermore, she was the heiress of a massive company. It wasn't anywhere close to the level of Kaneshiro's, but it was huge all the same, making her a very rich woman too.

With her looks and her riches, it was a surprise she hadn't long since been courted and married by a man from Fuyuki's upper class. Had all the local rich men gone blind recently or something?

"I knew something had happened!" Sumida wailed, somehow still managing to look gracious and refined even as she made a mess of herself. "I knew it! He didn't disappear without telling us! He would never!"

"W-Well, it seems you were right to think that." Ayako laughed nervously, clearly hoping they'd had the worst of the crying by now. "I'm sure he loved you very much."

"Huh?" Sumida looked up at Ayako, her confusion apparent in her every feature, to the point where the tears momentarily ceased flowing. "No, he didn't."

"…Hah?" Sakura could almost see the confused sweat drop appearing on Ayako's temple. Not that she herself was any better. She too was deadpanning at the white-haired woman. "He didn't?"

"No, he didn't." Sumida confirmed, her brows pulling into a frown. "He was a friend, but not my lover. I had to pay him to spend time with me after all."

"B-But you were crying and everything!" Ayako protested indignantly, clenching her hands, in which she still held several soaked tissues.

"Because he was my friend!" Sumida declared, her eyes becoming misty again. "He kept me company without pressuring me to marry him. He always used protection in bed to ensure I wouldn't become pregnant. He was someone I could turn to if my latest suitor turned out to be yet another criminal after my money."

"Ah, yes, I hate it when that happens." Rin nodded, totally steel faced, before she erupted in baffled anger. "As if! How the hell does that happen multiple times, you daft woman?!"

"I'm bad at reading people!" Sumida defended herself, puffing out her cheeks indignantly. "There are always so many men after me, acting sweet and kind, that I barely have any time to think before I have to choose one of them. But I don't expect you to understand that, miss gorilla."

"…What was that?" Rin's expression suddenly became very calm and pleasant, something that immediately set off all kinds of alarm bells in Sakura's head. "What did you just call me?"

"You are so mean and aggressive, I cannot imagine that you know how hard it is to be so popular with men." The heiress continued, blissfully unaware of the impending danger. "You are decently pretty, so you may have one or two perverts after you, but you will never understand what it is like to be as desirable as I am."

"Desirable?" Rin sounded utterly incredulous now.

"My features arouse baser desires in numerous men-"

"Your features?! You mean your coin purse-!"

"But Carlton was different, you said?!"

Rin began a scathing remark, but Sakura talked over her just in time. They still wanted information from Sumida, and that meant they couldn't make an enemy out of her, yet.

Not that she blamed her sister. Sumida Gina might have the superficial makings of a perfect princess, but from what the plum-haired girl had seen so far, she clearly hid a very difficult personality underneath.

"Yes, Carlton was different." Sumida proclaimed, apparently having missed Rin's remark. "No one ever really listens to me, not even daddy, but Carlton was sweet and kind and nice, and he always took me seriously."

"Right." Sakura smiled again, though the smile was much faker than before. "So you can't think of any reason anyone would want to kill him?"

"Maybe it was someone who was jealous of Carlton because he was allowed to spend so much time with me." Sumida suggested, rather ego-centrically. "Or maybe a former suitor I spurned who wanted to take revenge on me by harming Carlton. Or maybe-"

She began firing off suggestion after suggestion, all of them centred on her, and it wasn't long before the girls stopped listening.

"This is the woman whom Kaneshiro wanted to take into her arms?" Rin sneered in a low tone while they clandestinely put their heads together, referring to the giantess who'd given them a rather positive description of Sumida's character. "Is she blind or something?"

"They do say love makes blind." Ayako laughed sheepishly, before looking back at Sumida herself. "And I do have to admit she is beautiful. I can somewhat understand wanting to take her into your arms. Can't you, Rin?"

"To strangle her perhaps." The black-haired girl hissed like an angry cat, her hands opening and closing quickly, as if imagining she was indeed strangling Sumida. "Or squeeze her until she pops like a grape."

"Alright, Nee-san, calm down." Sakura quickly placed her hands over Rin's, rubbing her thumbs over her sister's knuckles. "Don't lose your patience."

"I won't." Rin assured her, relaxing her hands, before smiling lopsidedly. "I won't commit any violence."

"Good girl." Ayako praised her, patting her head, to Rin's visible irritation. "Now, is there anything else we want to ask her? Because if not, I suggest we get out of here."

"As unpleasant as she is, Kaneshiro did say Sumida knows a lot about Paris-san." Sakura mused, before smiling wryly. "So we're going to have to put up with her for a little longer."

Two deep sighs answered her, making Sakura's smile even more wry.

"-Carlton even told me he could sense that he was being followed."

Sakura tuned back to Sumida's ranting just in time to hear something potentially interesting.

"He was so nervous that day he didn't even bring me any chocolates."

But of course it was mainly about her again.

"He didn't even listen when I read him the poem that I'd written that week. Honestly, it was shocking. Definitely the worst date I've ever had with him. I almost refused to pay him, but he apologised properly, so I forgave him. Daddy does always tell me I have a soft heart-"

"Did you just say Carlton thought he was being followed?" Ayako interrupted her.

"Huh? Well, yeah." Sumida did not seem happy at being interrupted, but she did answer the question. "Mainly whenever he came back from Maita Rei. Of course, I did tell him not to visit her anymore, but he didn't listen."

"Maita Rei again, ha?" Ayako mused softly, sharing a knowing look with Sakura and Rin. The previous day, Nagao, the idol, had also spoken badly of this Maita Rei, and the girls were willing to bet it wasn't a coincidence that her name had come up again in the conversation with Sumida.

"Indeed. I hope that answered your question, ogre-girl." Sumida grumbled, casting a foul look at the brunette.

"O-Ogre?!" Ayako spluttered, her eyes going wide at the sudden insult.

"Hmpf." Sumida looked down at Ayako's hands, before her sneer became even deeper. "Of course."

Sakura followed the white-haired woman's gaze, but didn't see at all what Sumida could be getting at. The brunette's hands looked the same as they always did.

A bit larger than average for a girl her age, much stronger than one would think, somewhat rough and calloused, as expected of someone who practised a martial art with conviction and dedication, several blisters that were slowly healing, and shortly trimmed nails, so she wouldn't accidentally scratch someone's eye out during practice.

In short, they were perfectly fine hands that Sakura loved to have on her body.

Sumida clearly didn't think so however, and when Ayako wilted under her demeaning glare, Sakura got an immense urge to punch the white-haired bitch right in her smug face.

Before she could though, Rin already took action.

"That's a rather strong insult from someone who looks like she's halfway to becoming a Gashadokuro." The black-haired girl rose from her seat, immediately firing an insult back, comparing the woman to the well-known ghosts that were created when soldiers starved on the battlefield.

"G-Gashadokuro?!" Sumida clearly didn't appreciate the comparison, her face becoming red and spotty. Gashadokuro were famous for their hideousness after all, as befitting of people who died of disease and starvation.

"Yes, you definitely look like one." Rin repeated. She wasn't entirely honest there –Sumida was frail and skinny, yes, but not nearly to the point where it looked unhealthy, let alone where it looked like starvation– but if that woman could somehow find fault in Ayako's appearance, then yes, she definitely looked like a hideous ghost, on the inside if nothing else.

"You rotten brat!" Sumida fumed.

"Blowhard." Rin countered, her calm demeanour contrasting strongly with Sumida's rage. In fact, the black-haired girl was almost smiling, clearly enjoying the reaction her words elicited.

"Why are you so cruel?!" Sumida wailed, taking a few steps back. "You're just like all those men who said they loved me, only to leave me again!"

"I thought at first that those men were scum, but if this is how you always are, I'm definitely starting to sympathise with them." Ayako scoffed, and Sakura was relieved to see she'd dismissed the woman's insults as the nonsense they were. "Girls, I think we're done here."

"So do I." Rin agreed, and Sakura nodded her assent. "I would wish you a good evening, Sumida-san, but I'm not going to waste my breath on that."

"Don't you ever come back!" Sumida howled, shaking her fists in rage, and her eyes flitting around, likely searching for something to throw at them.

She was far too late however, and before she could find anything, Ayako had closed the door of the apartment behind her.

"That was unpleasant." The brunette stated once they were outside the building and on their way back home. "Very unpleasant."

"We wasted a lot of time there." Sakura agreed, casting an irritated look at the apartment complex behind her. "But we couldn't have known that in advance."

"Indeed we couldn't. Now, let's forget about it and focus on Maita Rei." Rin said sharply, already dismissing the past hour from her thoughts. "This is the second time someone mentioned her when we asked who could have hurt Carlton Paris, which means we have to check her out at least."

"It could just be a coincidence." Ayako suggested.

"I don't believe that and neither do you." Rin remarked, casting a pointed look at Ayako, who inclined her head in agreement. "Shall we go now?"

"No, Nee-san, it's too late for another interrogation." Sakura shook her head, having just checked the time. "We need to get back if we want to be in time to have dinner at a proper hour."

"Right, dinner. Nothing's more important than that at the Emiya-household." Rin smirked.

"Precisely." Ayako nodded, looking very serious, confirming once more that she was the perfect girlfriend for Sakura and Shirou.

"…I was joking, you know." Rin's smirk turned into an uncertain smile.

"I wasn't." Ayako replied, her expression cast in stone, prompting Sakura to give her a kiss on the cheek to show her appreciation.

"…Right." Rin sighed, before she shook her head in exasperation.

"We'll call it a day for now and continue tomorrow." Sakura said, finalising the decision. "Let's go back home. Will you be eating dinner with us, Nee-san?"

"Sure, if you'll have me."

"Naturally."

With that said, the trio started on their way back to the Emiya-estate. Today hadn't been a very successful day, but they had been able to cross two names off their list at least, and they'd gotten another clue that pointed at the woman called Maita Rei.

Hopefully, that interrogation would prove more fruitful.

---

The Aristocratic Faction had achieved a massive victory over the summer. There was no one in the Moonlit World who didn't know that, aside from people who'd been living under a rock.

They had brought down a large chunk of the Neutral Faction, they had reclaimed both Mineralogy and Botany through Lord El-Melloi, they had shown very clearly what happened to traitors to the Magus-Association, and –though this was yet unknown to most people– they had created strong ties with a budding Sorcerer.

Despite these victories however, the mood in Lorelei Barthomeloi's office was surprisingly dark.

"Grover Meluastea's body truly has disappeared without a trace." Mirei Montmorency informed her direct superior, her voice calm even as her eyes flashed in both rage and uncertainty. "My people have checked every nook and cranny of the mortuary and the surrounding area, but there was nothing to be found."

"How could this have happened?" Lorelei demanded, scowling deeply in displeasure. "Any thief should have been stopped long before they could even approach the mortuary."

"I do not know." Mirei admitted, her expression pained. "I interrogated all the guards myself, including the head of security, and thoroughly inspected all Bounded Fields, twice, but I could not discover any new information."

"The head of security has been relieved of his position, I presume?"

"Of course, as has the captain of the guards. I am hesitant to punish them further however, as it appears not to have been their fault. Whatever Magecraft was used to make the body disappear, it was highly sophisticated and completely unknown to us."

"Then do not punish them further. Give them a new assignment elsewhere within the Department of Policies and have them redeem themselves there." Lorelei waved the matter away, before focusing on the missing body itself again. "Grover Meluastea was executed already, was he not?"

"He was, yesterday, immediately after his trial, as Fujimaru requested." Mirei confirmed. "He was decapitated, and his body and head were stored separately. I checked myself whether he was indeed dead, and he was."

"Then we can assume he did not leave the mortuary on his own initiative." Lorelei stated, and Mirei almost huffed in amusement at the idea. "His body must have been stolen."

"By a very skilled thief at that." Mirei added. "As I said, no one noticed anything amiss until the next morning."

"What was the thief's motive?" Lorelei asked, knowing that the 'who' and 'how' questions were unanswerable right now and thus skipping straight to the 'why'. "Did he possess a Crest, or any unusual talents or properties that made his body worth stealing?"

"Not to the best of our knowledge. He was a crafty, cunning man, with brutality and guts to spare, but his talent as a Magus was average through and through." Mirei pursed her lips as she replied. "Though again, that was only to the best of our knowledge. It is not unfeasible that his true talent remained hidden from us to the very end."

"…Fujimaru seemed unusually keen to have Grover Meluastea executed as quickly as possible." Lady Barthomeloi recalled from the day before. "I will question him in regard to his reasoning for his haste. He may have new information for us."

"Knowing him, he probably does." Mirei scoffed, shaking her head lightly. That boy was a veritable goldmine of information. The only problem was getting him to share it. "For now though, let us shelve the matter of Grover Meluastea. We have other problems to discuss."

"…" Lorelei didn't say anything, but she did gesture for Mirei to continue.

"Several of the families in our Faction appear determined to sabotage and undermine our efforts to consolidate our power in the Clocktower's new status-quo." Mirei had been surprised at first to find that there were people within the Aristocratic Faction who'd dare to go against Lorelei so brazenly, but by now, she'd realised it actually hadn't been all that unexpected. "According to my agents, they fear you might come to consider them… unnecessary, if nothing is done to 'curtail' you."

"I did notice something of the sort." Lorelei nodded, a hint of smile on her face. "Many of the lords who were previously content to follow my orders suddenly appear recalcitrant to continue supporting my decisions."

"I have collected the names of everyone involved in this plot, as well as their stated aims and the division of tasks they made for themselves. My suggested course of action would be to-"

"We shall take no action against them."

"Pardon me?" Mirei blinked owlishly, wondering if she'd perhaps misheard.

"We shall take no action against them."

She hadn't misheard.

"You want to let them continue their petulant behaviour?" Mirei frowned at her boss' sudden passiveness, which wasn't at all characteristic for a Barthomeloi, to say the least. "Are you sure that is wise? They hamper our efforts, vote down your suggestions during meetings, and have withdrawn all the support that their families normally supply to the Faction."

"As is their right." Lorelei said mildly. "Everything they have done is in accordance with the agreements signed at the foundation of the Magus Association. They have violated no rules or laws."

"Not the letter of the law, no, but they definitely violated the spirit." Mirei huffed, before pursing her lips. "So you really don't intend to take action against them?"

"Not yet." Lorelei confirmed with a slow nod. "I will, of course, punish them for their treachery eventually, but for now, let us give them enough rope to hang themselves with. Sooner or later, they will break the ancient treaties, and I can expel them from the Faction."

"…"

"You disagree?"

"I do not. I am merely surprised you would choose such a course of action. Your forebears would never have had the patience for it."

"You would know that better than me." Lorelei's eyes darkened ever so slightly for the shortest of moments, before her neutral expression reappeared almost instantly again. "Now that we are speaking of my family anyway, let me ask; Is there any news from them?"

"There is, my lady." Mirei nodded, before reaching into an inner pocket of her coat. "A letter arrived in my office today, signed by your aunts, uncles, cousins, and the rest of the lot."

Correspondence between Lorelei and the rest of the Barthomeloi almost exclusively took place through Mirei. Lorelei herself largely ignored any letters sent from home, and out of desperation, the family had almost begged Mirei to act as their emissary. Unable to refuse such an earnest request, the elderly woman had accepted.

"What does my family have to say?" Lorelei's tone indicated very clearly she didn't really care, but since she couldn't exactly brush this matter aside like so many others, she reluctantly forced herself to listen.

"They congratulate you on the recent campaign against the Meluastea, praise your leadership-abilities, and speak of how proud they are to be your relatives." Mirei summarised the first part of the letter, before falling silent. The second part of the letter was about a subject Lorelei would not appreciate, and Mirei wondered how to break the news.

"What else?" Lorelei didn't give her a chance to think though, so Mirei decided to be blunt.

"They are once more insisting that you marry, so that you may produce children soon."

Lorelei scoffed.

Scoffed.

Lorelei Barthomeloi, the Vice-Director of the Magus Association, Queen of the Clocktower, and certified ice-statue, scoffed.

It was such an astonishingly unexpected sound that Mirei froze for a solid five seconds before she was able to process it, and by then, Lorelei had dismissed the subject already. Not verbally, but the fact that she was explicitly looking away indicated clearly that she had no intention of spending another second on the subject of her marriage.

"I will inform your family of your… response." Mirei decided to be diplomatic about the matter, making a mental note to write a polite letter back to the Barthomeloi.

They were not going to be pleased, that was certain, yet even so, there would be very little they could do about it.

Lorelei was too powerful for them to control anymore. She was stronger in Magecraft than any of her relatives, she had complete authority over the Clocktower, and was even technically the head of the family itself. If she decided not to listen to their orders, there really wasn't anything they could do.

Mirei suspected that that was why the Barthomeloi went to such lengths to indoctrinate their heirs; to ensure that they would remain loyal to the family even after leaving. It was becoming increasingly clear however that the indoctrination had not been nearly as successful with Lorelei as it had been with her predecessors.

Which was a good thing, really. At the very least, it made her more likeable.

"Was that all?" Lorelei then asked brusquely, the letter having put her in a rather bad mood.

"Almost. There is but one more matter we must discuss." Mirei replied.

"What is it?"

"Fujimaru."

As Mirei had expected, the name was enough to make Lorelei sit up and pay attention again. Only a few weeks before, the elderly lady would have lightly teased her about it, or made a snide remark in her head about young love, but right now, she did no such thing.

It had been acceptable to do so, back when Fujimaru had been a mellow, if powerful boy whose mannerisms and general behaviour appealed to Lorelei to a surprising degree, but not anymore now that he was a Sorcerer in the making whose actions could determine the political landscape for years to come.

It was hard to tease Lorelei about paying attention whenever he was mentioned when he was so genuinely important. It really was too bad, but for now, it seemed Mirei had lost the point of teasing.

"What is there to discuss about Fujimaru?" Lorelei asked, bringing Mirei back on track. "There has been no change in his behaviour or his stated intentions for the near future."

"Fortunately not, no." Mirei agreed, and the 'fortunately' was entirely meant there. "For now, he is still on our side, loyally doing what we ask of him. However, and I do hate to say this but I must, there is no guarantee that this state of affairs will continue."

"You mean to say he may not remain our ally forever?" Rather than playing dumb, Lorelei immediately cut to the heart of the case, which Mirei was grateful for. She would have hated having to explain everything bit by bit.

"That is exactly what I am saying." Mirei nodded. "I want us to be prepared for when he breaks with us."

"Breaking with us will have no advantages for him." Lorelei said, sounding almost defensive. "He has given his word to remain on our side, at least for the foreseeable future, and so far, he has proven himself to be a man who honours his oaths."

"I am not trying to cast doubt on his honour." Mirei said mildly. "I am merely trying to warn you that spoken oaths can be broken as easily as they were made."

"I know this. I would never trust an agreement made with a Magus without having an enforceable contract in place, but I believe that such a contract is unnecessary now." Lorelei remained on the defensive, her hands curling slightly, as if they wanted to ball into fists. "Furthermore, I am certain that Fujimaru would never agree to a magically binding contract under any circumstances, making this discussion moot."

"You are shifting the goalposts." Mirei pointed out, not unkindly. "I am not saying that you should persuade Fujimaru into signing a magically binding contract. All I am trying to do here is have a discussion with you about what we'll do to keep Fujimaru on our side and what we are going to do if we fail in that."

"…" Lorelei's hands curled a bit more, but then fully relaxed again, before the girl softly, almost unnoticeably, let out a breath.

"Sorcerers are a whimsical lot." Mirei said sagely, holding up a finger, giving a pretty good impression of a teacher imparting knowledge onto a student. "Maybe he'll never betray us, maybe he'll change sides as early as tomorrow. There is simply no telling with those kinds of beings."

"Your opinion of him is entirely too low." Lorelei protested, showing clearly her inexperience with Sorcerers.

"Perhaps." Mirei allowed, understanding that trying to make the girl see reason on this was a lost cause. "But please humour me. We can keep this entirely hypothetical if you want, but I would feel much more comfortable with a plan in place to deal with him if he goes rogue."

Lorelei's nostrils flared, her hands tensed again, and for a moment, Mirei feared she'd pushed too far and was about to be forcefully evicted from the office. No such things happened though, and the brunette regained her self-control fairly quickly.

"Fujimaru asked me, approximately a month ago, to take his friend as my apprentice, in exchange for his aid during the Purge." She reminded Mirei, with a hint of smugness in her voice. "As long as that stands, it is unlikely he'll turn against me."

Oh, so it was 'me' now? Mirei mentally rolled her eyes with a tired smile, but made no mention of it out loud.

"Then I suggest you start making work of that apprenticeship." The elderly woman said instead. "If you are truly depending on it to keep the boy on your side, you must take it seriously."

"I will."

"I mean it. In fact, it might be a good idea to start asking Fujimaru about more details the very next time you see him."

"I was going to convene with him about Grover Meluastea. There is no reason why I cannot include his friend's apprenticeship in that conversation."

"Good." Mirei said shortly, tapping her cane on the ground once. "Do whatever you must to keep him loyal. Furthermore, try to persuade him into affirming his stance on Clocktower-politics in public. Him being a Sorcerer is not yet publicly known, but it will get out soon, of that I have no doubt."

"Hm." Lorelei didn't respond verbally, instead just giving a small hum.

Mirei considered for a moment whether she should again raise the question of what they would do if Fujimaru turned against them, but ultimately decided to let it be. Lorelei wasn't going to give a straight answer anyway, and the answer was pretty obvious if you thought about it.

If a Sorcerer turned against the Aristocratic Faction, Lorelei was the only one who stood a chance at beating them. She would be the one to fight Fujimaru if everything went wrong.

Which was perhaps why she didn't want to talk about it.

"That pretty much concludes today's meeting." Mirei then said, crossing the last items of her mental list. "We have discussed Grover Meluastea, the treachery within our own Faction, your family's request, and Fujimaru's loyalty. That is all for today."

"Very well." Lorelei nodded, before looking away. "Then you are dismissed."

"Good. I must return to my paperwork. Oh, but before I go, my lady, do you intend to question Fujimaru as soon as possible?"

"I do." Lorelei confirmed, turning back to face the elderly lady again.

"Then there is no time like the present. You can find Fujimaru in the cafeteria on the second floor."

"Are you saying I should meet with him now?"

"Do you have anything else to do?" Mirei challenged her.

"Nothing pressing."

"Then yes, I am saying that you should meet with him now. I already readied a more casual outfit for you, just for that purpose."

Lorelei didn't respond after that, looking pensive, no doubt weighing her options in her head, and after ten or so seconds without a response, Mirei decided to get back to work.

"It was just a suggestion though." She said by ways of goodbye. "You don't have to talk with him if you don't want to. All I'm saying is that now's a good time. Well, anyway, good night, Lorelei."

"Good night." The girl muttered, the crease in her brow showing that she was still deep in thought, and Mirei wondered if she would indeed head down to speak with Fujimaru.

Only a month before, Mirei would have been certain that she would not. Now however, she wasn't so sure anymore. With how odd the girl had been acting lately, it wasn't unthinkable that she would actually go to the cafeteria.

Indeed, before Mirei had even left the hall, the door to Lorelei's office opened and the girl herself stepped out, clad in the outfit Mirei had prepared for her, clearly on her way to speak with Fujimaru.

Maybe that letter that Mirei was going to write to the Barthomeloi about Lorelei once again rejecting the idea of her getting married could carry a more hopeful note than the elderly woman had initially expected.

---

After Osaki and Yomaura had searched Carlton Paris' house and discovered the agenda with the names of his clients in it, they had gone around the city to visit these clients, meticulously working off the list with both discretion and a sense of purpose, trying to find clues hinting at the identity of Paris' murderer.

So far, they'd had little luck.

"And that was Aoko Shizuku." Yomaura sighed as the two of them left the luxurious apartment complex where said woman lived, squinting her eyes slightly against the light of the rising sun. "I hate this part of the job."

More specifically, she didn't hate the questioning, but rather the part where they had to inform people about their loved ones' demise. Aoko Shizuku for instance had been inconsolable, and had remained such for the entire conversation.

All Osaki and Yomaura had been able to get out of her was that she had no idea who could have killed Paris, and that had been the end of it. Her further ramblings had not been coherent enough to make sense of.

"You know, with how ardently all these people insist that Paris-san was a wonderful, amazing, kind, and considerate lover, I am starting to doubt more and more whether that was actually so." Yomaura remarked after they'd walked back to the car. "Don't you think it all sounds too good to be true?"

"I definitely see what you mean." Osaki mused as they got into the vehicle, before Yomaura started the engine. "But until you obtain credible evidence to back your theory up, it is merely an assumption. Every judge in this city would look at the dozen witnesses saying exactly the same and would rule it definite proof of Paris-san's excellent character. Your protests won't do anything, especially since there is no reason why the witnesses would lie to us."

"But what do you think?" Yomaura pressed him, considering her Senpai's opinion more important than a random judge's.

"…I think you might be on to something." Osaki sighed after a moment, admitting that Paris did sound too good to be true. "Keep your eyes open from now on. See if you can find any evidence to back up your theory."

"Right." Yomaura nodded, driving the car out on the road. "In that case, where shall we go next?"

"Maita Rei." Osaki responded promptly, having memorised their list by now. "The director of the private clinic at the edge of town."

"I think I know the one." Yomaura nodded, before smiling sheepishly. "Though I don't know the way. Could you get the map out, Senpai?"

"Of course." He nodded, before doing exactly that.

Unfortunately, Osaki was no more skilled at map-reading than the average man, so they ended up taking a wrong turn several times before they made it to the clinic, about forty minutes later.

Neither of them really minded that though –they'd started early, so they had some room for error today– and it was with good moods that they got out of the car.

Until they saw who else was standing at the gate of the clinic.

"Osaki-san, Yomaura-san." Matou Sakura smiled an extremely joyless smile, while Mitsuzuri Ayako palmed her face, and a black-haired girl lifted an eyebrow at them. "How… quaint, to see you here."

"What on Earth are you-?!" Yomaura started to say, before she interrupted herself as she realised exactly what was going on. "Oh, I see, following in that boy's footsteps, are you?"

"You got it in one." Mitsuzuri huffed, now also frowning at them. "What about you though? I thought the police generally didn't bother with foreigners, especially if they are involved in things that violate public morals."

"So you know that much already, do you?" Osaki clenched his teeth, not at all appreciating this sudden surprise. "Are you aware I can arrest you for vigilantism now?"

"It would be a stretch, as you have no evidence, but I suppose that is not necessarily a hurdle for the police if they are determined enough." The black-haired girl huffed, angling her face upwards. "So, are you going to arrest us?"

"If you do not cease your vigilantism, I will." Osaki answered sharply. "And don't think Rakurai is going to be a deterrent here."

"We merely wished to bring Rei-san the bad news." Perhaps recognising he was serious, Matou decided to step in, her voice sweet and demure. "When we heard that poor Paris-san was a gigolo, we feared the police would bury the case. That would mean that all his… lovers, would remain unaware of his demise. We have merely been informing them of what happened."

"Aha, and you found them how exactly?" Yomaura narrowed her eyes at the girl.

"Lots and lots of luck, Yomaura-san." The girl beamed. "The gods were with us."

"I'm sure." Yomaura scoffed, before making a shooing motion. "Now scram, kids. It is one thing for you to practise your vigilantism when the police isn't doing anything, but we are here now, so you can go home."

It was a bit crudely worded, but his partner was right. With them on the case, there was no need for these girls to involve themselves further in the investigation, especially since they clearly didn't have even a fraction of Rakurai's brutal efficiency. The case would have been closed by now if they did.

"Alright, alright, we're going." The black-haired girl held up her hands, a sweet smile coming to her face, one that looked exactly like Matou's smile. "There's no need to get worked up."

Such instant and unexpected compliance would have been suspicious even under the best of circumstances, and when it were Rakurai's associates who were suddenly so obedient, that compliance set off every alarm bell in Osaki's head.

"Are you planning to enter after we have left?" He asked sharply. "Forget it. I will inform Maita-san about your little play at an investigation, and I will insist that she does not speak with you."

"That is fine. We already talked to her." Mitsuzuri smirked. "You were a little late, I fear."

"As usual." The black-haired girl sniped, smirking in way that seemed tailor-made to be as infuriating as possible. "But better late than never I suppose. We're heading off now, so feel free to talk with Rei-san."

"Goodbye, Osaki-san." Matou's beaming smile hadn't shrunken the tiniest bit yet, which somehow was just as infuriating at the black-haired girl's smirk. "I wish you the best of luck with your investigation."

"See ya!" Mitsuzuri winked, before running after the other two, leaving Osaki and Yomaura behind.

"I do sort of want to arrest them for real now." Yomaura admitted after a moment, her voice mostly calm, though there was a slight undercurrent of irritation. "Cheeky brats."

"We have no evidence they committed any crimes whatsoever." Osaki shook his head. "They are correct that visiting people is not illegal, and as far as we know, they have not engaged in any overt acts of vigilantism."

"Yeah, you're right." His partner sighed, the irritation in her voice vanishing quickly. "I suppose I wouldn't feel comfortable arresting minors anyway, not to mention that, despite what you just said, Rakurai still is a very large factor to consider if we want to move against those three."

"Yes." Osaki responded bluntly. For all that he had pretended the opposite, Rakurai was indeed a very large shadow looming over them right now. Arresting his friends was not a wise decision, at all. Osaki might be a bit of an idealist, but he could easily recognise situations where he was out of his league.

"Also, that girl was Tohsaka Rin." Yomaura continued, pensively rubbing her chin. "Which means we cannot take her lightly either."

"Tohsaka? Those were the… Second Owners, right?"

"Correct, which means that she is a Magus, which in turn means that a battle between us would definitely be disastrous for our surroundings and might go either way in the end."

"Hm." Osaki made a non-committal noise, before he decided to put the trio out of his mind. "Well, whatever. Let us go speak with Maita-san."

"Indeed." Yomaura nodded, looking grateful for the change in subject, before she walked up to the wall surrounding the estate and pressed the doorbell next to the gate.

A few minutes later, the detectives were seated in Maita Rei's spacious living room, with cups of tea in front of them, and their host holding platters of biscuits, sweets, and other snacks under their noses.

"Ara, are you sure I cannot interest you in a bite?" Maita Rei asked, cocking her head to the side, smiling a closed-eyed smile at them. "Or perhaps, if it is too early for you, I could pack them so you can take them with you?"

"Ah, that won't be-" Osaki started to say.

"We generally don't eat sweets or other snacks in the morning, but if you could pack them, we would appreciate that." Yomaura interrupted him quickly, before smiling kindly at the other woman. "Thank you very much."

"No problem at all, dear!" Maita's countenance brightened considerably at Yomaura's acceptance, and she set the platters with snacks down on the table again, before taking a seat herself.

Osaki lifted an eyebrow at his partner, who had never been one for snacks, but she just shrugged, mouthing 'if it makes her happy' at him, which was a sentiment he couldn't disagree with.

When Osaki had learned that Maita Rei was a very successful psychiatrist running her own private clinic, he had immediately pictured a short, plump woman with a short haircut and a serious, no-nonsense air about her, clad in working clothes and a lab coat, who ruled her clinic with an iron fist in a velvet glove and easily kept all manner of people with mental disorders under her thumb.

A woman with nerves of steel, who lived in a spartan bunker, ever focused on battling the psychological issues of her patients with the zeal of a soldier at the front.

Boy, had he been wrong. She was not like that at all.

Maita Rei was a tall, graceful woman, with long hair as black as night, an absolute killer figure, a soft, motherly attitude, and a boundless patience that almost seemed inhuman. Furthermore, her clinic was a beautiful and comfortable place, almost like a luxurious hotel, and it was clear no expense had been spared to make the lives of her patients as happy as possible.

She did have nerves of steel though, that part at least Osaki had been right about. She was a tough woman who wasn't at all intimidated by two police officers and had shown no compunction about making it clear that this was her house and thus her rules.

She wore a low-cut sweater coupled with a pencil skirt that was perhaps a bit shorter than expected, exposing both a royal amount of cleavage and a good part of her long, luscious legs.

Though she was about a decade older than he, she was still in the prime of her life, and the happy smile that currently graced her features made Osaki's heart beat slightly faster.

But he was a professional, so he easily moved past that.

"Thank you for seeing us on such short notice." He began the interview, and next to him, Yomaura opened her notebook and readied a pencil. "I presume you already know what we want to talk to you about."

"Carlton Paris." Maita nodded, placing a finger on her chin in thought. "Before you arrived, there were three girls who were kind enough to come by to inform me of what happened to him."

"Yes." Osaki nodded, taking care to not let his unhappiness show.

"You don't seem quite happy with that." Maita easily pricked through his front however, as could be expected of a psychiatrist.

"These girls have a tendency to meddle in police business, which we don't like." Yomaura answered before he could. "Nothing bad has happened so far, but that doesn't mean nothing bad will happen in the future too."

"They did seem quite determined, though about what, I cannot say." Maita placed a hand on her cheek, her smile turning into a worried expression. "I hope they won't take it too far, whatever they are up to."

"I'm sure it will be fine." Yomaura made a dismissive motion with her hand.

"Yet I cannot help but worry." Maita sighed, before looking pleadingly at the two of them, leaning forward, which caused her to inadvertently place a lot of emphasis on her sizable cleavage. "Would you please keep an eye on them? For me if nothing else?"

"…I suppose it is our duty." Osaki coughed into his hand, before clearing his throat and sitting up straighter. "We can only promise to do our best."

"That is all I ask." Maita's countenance became radiant once more at his positive answer.

"Well then, Maita-san, to get back on topic-" Yomaura began.

"Oh, please call me Rei." The graceful woman interrupted her, placing her hands together with a sheepish smile. "I know it is silly, since I am older than you and a mother at that, but being called Maita-san makes me feel so old."

"Rei then." Yomaura went along with the request easily enough. "I was going to ask you about Carlton Paris, but before that, you mentioned just now that you are a mother?"

"A proud mother of three." The woman beamed. "My husband and I were blessed in that regard."

"Forgive my rudeness then, but how is it that you were able to hire Paris-san if you are married?" Yomaura carefully ventured, clearly wary of being a homewrecker. "If your husband does not know, you can count on our utmost discretion during this investigation-"

"My husband died five years ago, during a mountain climb with my eldest daughter." The smile remained on Rei's face, but it became noticeably dimmer. "I have not remarried or even fallen in love again since. I hired Carlton because I had to combat the loneliness."

"I see. I'm sorry for asking." Yomaura apologised.

"Not at all, you are just doing your job." Rei's smile then went from slightly dim to almost wry. "Besides, I…"

"You?" Osaki prompted her when she fell silent.

"No, never mind." The shiny black hair swished as the woman shook her head, before her smile regained some of its previous lustre. "We were speaking about Carlton."

"Yes." Yomaura nodded once, before continuing. "How long have you known Paris-san?"

"By next month, it will have been two years since I first met him at a conference for psychiatrists. I had been invited to give a guest lecture there, and once I was finished with that, Carlton appeared to keep me company during the rest of the evening."

"What was he doing at a conference for psychiatrists?" Osaki wondered. They hadn't found anything that suggested the man was at all interested in that field.

"He always claimed it was interest in the subject that brought him there, but I think he was just looking for new clients." Rei answered, a nostalgic look in her eyes. "He regularly visited large events in Fuyuki for that reason."

"What did you think about that?" Osaki pressed her slightly. "About him always searching for new clients?"

"Nothing." Rei shook her head, trying to look unaffected, but she turned out to be a rather poor liar.

"Now, that isn't true." Osaki pressed even more, his voice turning harder than before. "What did you really think about Paris-san's womanising attitude, Rei?"

"I… Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that I tried to think nothing of it, even though it hurt." Rei admitted, before looking down at the ground. "I had never envisioned myself as the kind of woman who would pine after a man who spent so much time looking for new 'birds', as he called us, but here I am. You must think I am pathetic."

"Not at all." Yomaura immediately shook her head, giving Rei a smile. "Love can be a very difficult thing, and it often makes no sense. You aren't pathetic because your heart decided to be troublesome."

"Thank you, detective-san." Rei smiled back, reaching out to touch Yomaura's hand, and for some reason, the redhead tugged on her collar immediately after, a flush working its way up her neck.

"T-To get back on track, can you think of anyone who would want to harm Paris-san?" Yomaura asked the most standard question of a police interview.

"No one directly comes to mind, at least no one specific."

"And what about unspecific?"

"I don't think I am telling you anything new when I say that many men were not at all happy to see Paris-san 'snap up their women' before they could make a move." Rei thoughtfully twisted a lock of hair around her finger, digging into her memory. "Not to mention there were many men who were just plain jealous of his successes in general. Jealous men are so troublesome, you see, and sometimes even dangerous."

"Hm." The fact that Paris made many other men jealous was indeed nothing new, so Yomaura didn't bother noting it down. "What was Paris-san like as a person?"

"What was he like? Oh, well, bold, I suppose, and brash. He was confident, easy-going, quick with a joke, and even rather childish at times." Rei summed up quickly. "He was a large man, with some muscle, but he managed to act cute sometimes. I was always impressed by that. I didn't much like how lazy and vain he was though."

"Lazy and vain?" Osaki lifted an eyebrow, before he made eye contact with Yomaura, both of them surprised at Rei's unusual frankness.

So far, every woman whom they had questioned about Paris had been lyrical about him, fervently praising him into the sky and beyond, as if he'd been a god of love. Rei on the other hand was noticeably calmer about it, almost as if she hadn't really thought much of him at all.

"He was like one of those popular students you see on the television, all bombastic while still being a tiny bit adorable. Whenever I was with him, I couldn't get enough of it." Rei continued her description, before her expression became thoughtful. "Which is strange, because I normally don't like people like that at all."

"Huh?"

"What?"

"Yes, it's odd, isn't it?" Rei rubbed the back of her head as she spoke, appearing puzzled herself. "Carlton was exactly the kind of man I wouldn't have wanted to have anything to do with under normal circumstances. As I said, he was childish, vain, and horribly lazy too. Whenever he was here, he just sat on the couch, having me cater to his every whim. He was rude to my children, made a mess of things, ate all the food, and he didn't even bring a present."

"I see." Osaki mumbled, while Yomaura diligently wrote down every word Rei just said, as it was a side of Carlton Paris they hadn't heard of before.

"I realise that last complaint sounds a bit odd." Rei's ears turned red in embarrassment, and she placed a hand on her cheek, smiling sheepishly, before her expression hardened again. "But I find it no more than common courtesy to take a present with you if you are going to stay at someone's house for a week. He didn't even do that though. He really was a rude, mannerless boy."

"Then why did you hire him at all?" Osaki asked, surprised by how vitriolic she was being about a man whom she'd been 'employing' for more than a year.

"I didn't want to. Every time he left this house, I promised myself that it would be the last time, that I wouldn't hire him again, yet every time, he managed to persuade me to give him another chance." Rei's expression became troubled at this point. "His charm was overwhelming, detective-san, and I couldn't resist. Not even once."

"He didn't take any liberties with you, did he?" Yomaura asked sharply, her eyes narrowing. "Did he force you into anything you didn't want?"

"Everything we did was consensual, I think." Rei slowly shook her head. "At least when it happened. He really had a way of ensnaring me, making me actually happy when I was with him. Despite that, I have to admit that I am almost relieved that he is gone forever. Does that make me a bad person?"

"Only if you killed him." Osaki said shortly, giving her a penetrating look.

"I did not."

"Then no, you are not a bad person. You feel what you feel, and we cannot punish people for having emotions."

"It sounds like Paris was bad news anyway." Yomaura grumbled, looking back through her notes. "I already thought that the description we got from his other clients seemed too good to be true, and now I have evidence to back it up."

It seemed her theory of Paris being not as good as he was made out to be held a little more water now.

For a few moments after that, it remained silent, as the detectives processed the new information and Rei took a deep breath to calm herself again.

"It seems I have made the mood rather awkward." Rei then said, smiling apologetically. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to vent so much."

"On the contrary, it is good that you vented." Osaki shook his head, prompting Rei to give him a curious look. "Venting often carries truth in it that you would normally keep hidden, out of subconscious politeness if nothing else. As we are investigating a murder however, that kind of truth is exactly what we need."

Rei blinked at him, her face set in an expression of adorable amazement, before she looked at Yomaura, who nodded sharply to show her agreement with her Senpai.

"That is very kind of you to say." She then smiled, looking positively angelic.

"All in a day's work." Osaki coughed into his hand again.

"Nevertheless, I feel I need to improve the mood again. Oh, I know! Would you like to meet my children?" The woman asked, not even waiting for a reply before she rose from her seat and turned around, putting her hands to her mouth to amplify her voice. "Kazuhiko! Hiroko! Aya!"

She didn't have to wait long after that, as within a few seconds, there was a right ruckus in the hallway, before the door opened and three blurs stormed into the room.

"Mother." One of the blurs said, revealing itself to be a young woman, nearing or just having reached adulthood, looking like a younger version of her mother.

"Mom." The second blur spoke, turning out to be a young woman as well, though she was about a year or two younger than her sister, and a brunette.

"Mommy." The last blur was a boy, a fair bit younger than the other two, with black hair and a face that was not at all like his mother's, suggesting he took after his father.

"Children." Rei beamed at them, her eyes shining with love and affection. "Let me introduce you to Osaki Koyo and Yomaura Taya. They are detectives, who are here to investigate Carlton Paris' murder."

"Murder?!" The oldest gasped in shock, before she froze, and then bowed. "Hello, my name is Maita Hiroko, it is a pleasure to meet you." Then she went back to her shocked expression. "Paris-san was murdered?!"

"Pfft, hi hi hi." Yomaura had to smother a laugh at the girl's act, and Osaki couldn't suppress an amused smile as well.

"I am Maita Aya." The younger girl piped up. "Does that mean Paris-san is dead now?"

"Yes, that's what 'murder' means." The boy, who by process of elimination had to be Kazuhiko, snarked, before giving a nod in Osaki's general direction. "Maita Kazuhiko. Nice to meet you."

"My children." Rei stated, her smile becoming even prouder. "Aren't they wonderful?"

In the minutes after that, it became a bit of mess, with everyone talking over each other and past each other, but eventually, Osaki managed to get Hiroko aside for a short private conversation. The girl was the oldest, and from her reaction, she'd been the most familiar with Paris, so she might have something to tell him.

She did. She certainly had something to tell him.

"I didn't like him at all." Hiroko stated in no uncertain terms. "He was an awful person."

"That is rather strongly worded." Osaki noted carefully, wondering what 'awful' meant in this context. "Did he ever-?"

"He never hit mother, if that's what you're wondering, or us, for that matter." Hiroko shook her head, before her lips twisted into a scowl. "But he was a lazy pig. Unreliable, too, extremely so. He never did anything kind for mother. He only ever took from her, giving her nothing in return except some sweet words and s-s-se… you-know-what."

"Does that make him awful though?" Osaki wondered, ignoring the girl's stumble over the word 'sex'.

"Treating mother like a maid and having her pay for it too?!" Hiroko scoffed incredulously. "I'd say that's pretty awful. Frankly, when I think of how many women he must have done the same to, it makes me sick. Just the mental picture of him sitting on a couch, making others pamper him… Ugh!"

"Well, your mother does seem like the type of person who enjoys pampering people." Osaki said slowly, glancing over at Rei, who was happily packing away the snacks she'd made earlier for Yomaura and he to take with them.

"She does like to pamper people." Hiroko agreed, before holding up a finger. "But she also likes to be pampered sometimes, and that's supposed to be a husband's or boyfriend's job, right? Paris didn't do that, ever!"

"Alright, when you say it like that, he does sound like a lousy lover." Osaki nodded. Privately, he did wonder though why Maita Rei and Hiroko were the only ones so far to complain about that. Surely, there should have been other women who were also annoyed with this apparent freeloader?

"He was the worst! The kind of boyfriend they always warn you about at school! The lazy lay-about that only ever shows up for money and food." Hiroko spat. "He was really mean to Kazuhiko too, though he always acted sweetly to Aya and me. It was creepy as hell!"

"I can see how that must have been unpleasant." Osaki said diplomatically. "Though I do have to say that rude behaviour alone should not be enough to be murdered over."

"No, of course not!" Hiroko agreed wholeheartedly. "Being rude does not carry the death-penalty. I can't say I am very sad though about him never coming here again."

"That is your right." Osaki said mildly, having much experience with people expressing similar sentiments about almost every murder victim he'd ever seen. Most people who got murdered weren't exactly nice people themselves after all. "Paris certainly doesn't sound like the best representative of us men."

"Definitely not!" Hiroko agreed again, nodding furiously.

"He must have been much worse than your father." Osaki continued with what he thought was a kind remark, before blinking when Hiroko went completely still, her eyes becoming alarmingly dull. "Oi, kid?"

Did he just step on a landmine? It had been five years since that guy died, right? Or was he being insensitive again? Perhaps he should call over Rei before he did anything to make it worse-

"My father…" Hiroko suddenly began slowly, drawing Osaki's attention back at her as she opened and closed her mouth continuously, apparently searching for words. "He…"

"You don't have to talk about him if you don't want to." Osaki tried to set her at ease, but his words fell on deaf ears.

"Carlton Paris was a swine." Hiroko mumbled, almost thoughtfully, before a flame sprang to life in her previously dull eyes, a hateful flame. "But he was infinitely better than my father! Just about anyone would have been better than my accursed father!"

"Of course." Osaki nodded quickly. "I understand if you don't want to talk about it-"

"Mother always picks the worst kind of men to take home with her." Hiroko went on, the fire in her eyes still burning bright. "Paris was just one example on a very long list. It had even gotten to the point where I selected mother's dates for her, at least before Paris came along and snapped her up."

"Kid, you don't have to tell me this-"

"She is just much too trusting, and scumbags are always standing ready to take advantage of her."

"I understand that-"

"But even among scumbags, my father was a special kind of bad." Hiroko had bared her teeth at this point, hissing like an angry cat. "He might have been decent in the beginning, I don't know, I wasn't born yet, but what I do know is that he never got over the fact that mother was more successful at her job than he was at his. He was some kind of financial advisor, but frankly, he was lousy at it, losing more money than he earned. Mother then always paid off the difference so he wouldn't get sued, but instead of being grateful, he started hating her for it."

"I suppose that isn't unusual-"

"Because that's the problem with arrogant men, isn't it? They can't handle it when women are better than they are. Then they get violent."

"Violent? Kid, are you saying-"

"I do feel somewhat sad that Paris is dead. He was never violent." Hiroko sighed, finally gaining back a semblance of calm. "But my father can rot in hell for all I care."

"I see." Osaki felt a bit overwhelmed by the outburst, but he had understood enough to conclude that Rei's husband had to have been particularly bad for his own daughter to hate him so.

"Well, there you have it, my feelings have been laid bare to you, you brute." Hiroko then glared at him, taking him aback with her sudden irritation. "Are you happy now? Ugh, police officers are always so nosey. Always snooping around, forcing me to talk about uncomfortable subjects."

"Pardon me?" Osaki almost couldn't believe his ears, but she ignored him, turning around with a huff and walking away.

Before she left though, she turned around one more time, and suddenly, she was smiling again.

"You seem nice." She told him, again taking him aback with how quickly she seemed to change moods. "If you and your wife, Yomaura-san, ever want to take mother as your mistress, you have my blessing."

Then, before Osaki could react to the outrageous statement, she was gone.

---

After the third day of the trials was over, Shirou was once again left to his own devices.

Lady Barthomeloi and Lady Montmorency had a lot of work they needed to do to prepare for the next day, Lord El-Melloi was working hard at creating stability within his departments again, aided by Grey, Flat, Svin, Lehrman, and the rest of the lot, and even Illya was probably fast asleep by now, as it was already nine in the evening.

Even though she was well over eighteen, her body was that of a ten-year-old, and that meant she needed a lot of sleep. Of course, if it was up to her, she'd stay awake for as long as she could, but Sella had quickly vetoed that, with Shirou's support.

Just like the day before, he was left with nothing to do, and so, to kill some time, he decided to make his way over to the Clocktower's kitchens, so he could cook again.

Well, he said 'Clocktower's kitchens', but frankly, it was just one of the many kitchens that were located within the headquarters of the Magus Association. Shirou didn't know the exact numbers, but he'd heard from one of the cooks he'd spoken to that there were possibly more than a hundred of them spread out through the conglomeration.

Discounting the private kitchens in the dorm rooms of course.

Most of these hundred kitchens were used by single families, or perhaps a small group of families. Those families had the kitchens built on private land and only employed cooks they completely trusted. It was a measure against poison and other unpleasant surprises in their food, and though Shirou would love to dismiss those families as overly paranoid, they were likely right to worry about such things.

Lady Barthomeloi for instance should really keep a very close eye on her food and on those preparing it, and the same went for Lady Montmorency and other key-figures in the Clocktower. There was no doubt after all that there were many people out there who would love nothing more than to pour a nasty poison down their throats. The best weapon against that was undoubtedly a private kitchen and cooks selected specifically for their loyalty.

The less important Magi however did not have a private kitchen or carefully selected employees. They had to make do with the public cafeterias.

These public cafeterias were located at strategic points throughout the Clocktower, to make sure everyone could get to one within an acceptable amount of time, even when walking. They were open all day, every day, and served all kinds of meals, from the simplest toast with butter to the most elaborate combinations of salmon, shrimp, caviar, and who-knew-what-else.

The public cafeterias were not all the same of course. They had plenty of variety between them in size, luxury, and price-range. The only feature they all shared was that they were open to everyone, no matter their standing, as long as they behaved themselves well and could pay the bills. From the highest lords to the lowest serfs, everyone was allowed to enter, at least in theory.

Of these public cafeterias, the one in the main hall was undoubtedly the largest and cheapest of them all. It prepared and served hundreds, if not thousands of meals per day, single-handedly taking care of close to one-third of the food-logistics of the Clocktower, while still managing to keep their prices low enough that even the poorest could afford to buy one or two simple meals per day.

It was a place where lower-class and middle-class Magi could meet outside of their departments, to exchange information, to make deals, and to build connections. Here, Enforcers got their jobs from people in need of their strength, merchants could peddle their wares, Crest-Tuners and other specialised personnel offered their services, and Magi could take a break from their research and go out for a while in a veritably risk-free environment.

It wouldn't be an exaggeration to call it one of the Clocktower's centres, alongside the arena and the main library. It was simply that important.

Because it was so large, it also employed the most cooks and other staff of all the cafeterias, by far. Dozens of people were running around in the kitchen and through the café in an effort to make it run smoothly. There were so many of them that no one would notice it if an extra person was added to their number, and that was the main reason why Shirou had chosen this kitchen to help out in.

It was the second day that Shirou visited the place, and though the staff had initially been terrified of him –because of obvious reasons– they'd warmed up to him over the course of the evening, until they barely even acknowledged his presence anymore, except when needed.

Today again, Shirou was mostly ignored as he entered the kitchen, only a few waitresses and the odd cook giving him a quick nod before they sped off again. All the others kept their eyes on their work, busy as they were.

There was however one exception.

"Shirou! You're back!" A boisterous voice thundered as Shirou put on an apron and a chef's hat, and the redhead turned around to face the owner of the voice. "Excellent! We need all hands on deck!"

The man who had spoken was short, plump, and old. He had a few tufts of grey hair spread around on his scalp, numerous wrinkles on his face, and his uniform could not hide the frailty of his body. Nevertheless, his eyes were full of energy, and as he made his way over to Shirou, everyone gave him a wide berth, not out of fear, but out of respect.

Which was only logical, considering he was the head cook, the one in charge of the cafeteria, and thus the boss of everyone here.

"Emmanuel." Shirou acknowledged the elderly cook, who'd been the first to dare to address him yesterday, when he'd stepped into this kitchen for the first time. "Are we busy again?"

"Terribly! The trials have just finished, you know? All those people who were watching them want food now. We have to hurry." Emmanuel wasted not a second in dragging Shirou over to a free stove, before handing him a ton of orders. "We have important guests too. There is not a moment to lose."

"I'll get to it immediately." Shirou nodded, quickly scanning the notes, before he turned on the stove and put the pans on the fire. "I can handle it from here, Emmanuel."

"I do not doubt it for a second, my boy. Good luck." Then the elderly cook was off again, back to his own dishes and his management work, and for the next twenty minutes, Shirou worked in silence, quickly working his way through the orders, using his enhanced abilities to work faster than ten normal men.

Of course, once he'd finished his orders, Lia, one of the cafeteria's waitresses, immediately gave him several new ones, and then even more once he'd finished those, and so on, practically giving him five times the work of the other cooks.

Shirou didn't mind though. It was nice to be cooking again after almost two months of not seeing a single kitchen from the inside, and he had a lot of excess energy stored away after a full day of sitting absolutely still next to Lady Barthomeloi.

Admittedly, he had feared at the beginning that he might have become rusty, that his cooking skills were subpar and not worthy of the cafeteria, but a steady stream of compliments from the customers had put those fears to rest again.

He wasn't quite as good as Emmanuel or the other experienced cooks, but he was easily as good as the average cook here, maybe even a bit better.

"I'm sorry for making you work so much again, Shirou." Syr, another waitress, said once there was a small lull, giving him an apologetic expression and a pout, which was made extra effective by her adorable features and silver hair. "We are just so horribly understaffed. We are trying to attract more employees of course, but it's slow-going."

"It's no problem, honestly." Shirou shook his head, trying to set her at ease. "I like cooking, so there's no need to worry about me."

"Even so…" Syr trailed off, clearly still concerned, but Shirou simply kept smiling. He had told her nothing but the truth. He liked cooking, he could easily handle the work they gave him, and he was only glad to help.

In all honesty, though he wasn't going to say it out loud, he also felt kind of responsible for their current predicament. It was because of the Purge that many members of the cafeteria's staff had taken temporary leave, in order to wait out the storm, which placed the blame for their current manpower-shortage straight at Shirou's feet.

The least he could do to make up for that was to help them until they got back on their feet again.

But really, he also did it for fun. Being a cook was seen, righteously, as a stressful occupation, but to Shirou, it was relaxing. Even a hundred orders were not enough to faze him now, it would take a lot more than that to bring him off balance.

"Lady Barthomeloi is here!" Lia whisper-shouted as she stormed into the kitchen, her black hair bouncing behind her as she ran.

Yeah, something like that.

"L-Lady Barthomeloi?" Syr stuttered, turning as white as a sheet, and she wasn't nearly the only one who reacted with shock, as everyone in the kitchen either dropped something or froze on the spot. "W-What is she doing here?!"

"That's what I am wondering." Shirou frowned. Lady Barthomeloi had her own kitchen, staffed with the best cooks in the entire world, so there was no reason for her to be here. "Is she just passing through?"

"N-No, she sat down at a table." Lia shook her head so fast it became a blur. "I-I think she wants to order something."

"Shirou." Emmanuel suddenly appeared again, summoned by the emergency. "You are familiar with Lady Barthomeloi, no? Could I ask you to go and see what she wants?"

"I will." Shirou nodded, already in the process of taking off his apron and hat. "I am rather curious myself."

"Do wear the jacket." Emmanuel pleaded, handing him the jacket that waiters of the cafeteria were always supposed to wear when on the job.

Seeing no reason to refuse, Shirou put it on, before walking out of the kitchen, straight to Lady Barthomeloi.

He almost tripped over his own feet when he saw that she was wearing the shirt-and-skirt combination again –was it just him though or was the skirt even shorter than before?!– but in the end, he managed to reach her table with his dignity intact.

"Lady Barthomeloi." He acknowledged her curtly, drawing her attention away from the menu cart. "What are you doing here?"

"There are matters I wish to discuss with you." She answered, her voice brokering no argument, and she gestured at the chair on the other end of her table.

"You are here for me?" Shirou frowned at her reply, wondering why she hadn't brought these 'matters' up while they had been at the trial together for most of the day. "Then you will have to wait. I am working now."

"How long will that take?" She asked, fortunately not trying to force him into a meeting anyway, nor did she comment on how odd it was for him to be working in the cafeteria.

"Until the busiest time is over. I'd say around two hours."

"Very well." She accepted easily, before crossing her legs, which exposed a rather uncomfortable amount of her thighs, though she didn't seem to realise that. "I shall wait."

"Would you like to order anything while you wait?"

"A crème soup with smoked salmon, kobe beef with almond au foie, and white alba truffles." Lady Barthomeloi summed up quickly, apparently having made her choice already. "As well as a glass of tap water. Please ensure it is not poisoned."

"Crème soup, smoked salmon, kobe beef with almond au foie, white alba truffles, and a glass of tap water, all of them not poisoned." Shirou repeated back to her.

"Correct. Please prepare it yourself."

"Coming right up." Shirou nodded, before returning to the kitchen.

"Boy, you're back!" Emmanuel cried once the redhead stepped inside, and everyone inside the kitchen once more dropped what they were doing to pay attention. "What did she want?!"

"A crème soup with smoked salmon, kobe beef with almond au foie, and white alba truffles." Shirou summed up, walking back to his stove. "As well as a glass of tap water."

"She just wanted food?" Syr spluttered, her normally mischievous expression distorted in confusion and light panic.

"No, she wanted to talk with me." Shirou shook his head, firing up the stove again. "I told her she'd have to wait though, so she decided to have dinner instead."

"Y-Y-You are making the Queen wait?!" Emmanuel looked seconds away from a heart attack, and Syr and Lia looked barely any better.

"I am busy here now, am I not?" Shirou huffed, putting more butter onto the frying pan, before crushing the almonds and slicing the truffles. "She will have to wait for now."

"…" Utterly speechless, Emmanuel stumbled away, while Syr and Lia continued gaping at Shirou, astounded by his audaciousness.

Shirou himself just continued working though. The food wasn't going to make itself.

---

In the meantime, the cafeteria was dealing much better with the arrival of Lady Barthomeloi than the kitchen.

Granted, this was mainly because most of the customers hadn't even noticed she was there –she hadn't really bothered to be stealthy, but she hadn't made a scene either– and the ones that did notice kept their mouths shut, knowing what was good for them.

In other words, there was no ruckus to speak of, and the customers could eat in relative peace, to the extent that peace was at all possible in the Clocktower.

One of those customers was Waver, and Waver was having himself a nice, quiet dinner, accompanied by Grey and Marianne, though they had all disguised themselves a bit.

Nothing too extensive, merely different hairstyles and outfits, as well as glasses for Marianne and Grey, but it had been largely sufficient for them not to be recognised so far.

Waver tugged on the collar of his brown sweater, which he'd borrowed from Melvin, meaning it was a bit too small for him, and then thanked the Root that his reddish-brown trousers, which had been borrowed from Bram, were well-fitting at least.

In the meantime, Grey shifted a bit in her sky-blue dress, before drawing the hood of her hoodie even further over her head. Marianne on the other hand sat perfectly poised in her black evening dress, looking graceful as ever.

They made for a bit of a strange trio, but they didn't fall too badly out of tone, and so far, no one had recognised them.

Or at least, almost no one.

"You want me to become your sponsor?" Waver asked, looking at the three girls standing opposite of him, all of them nervous to varying degrees. "Are you sure about that?"

"We are." Fiore Forvedge confirmed, and Rosaly von Stahlen-Frobrecht and Marie Alva nodded in agreement. "W-We aren't necessarily looking for a full sponsorship, but we'd like to join the El-Melloi-faction at least."

The three girls had arrived at the cafeteria with only the intention of eating dinner together, but Fiore had proven herself extremely observant, easily spotting and recognising Waver despite his best attempts at blending in. As soon as she had, the girls had gone over to him, to ask if he would be willing to take them as his employees.

In this context, taking them on as his employees essentially meant he was giving them a diluted version of a sponsorship. He gave them protection, resources, and knowledge, and in exchange, they would work for him whenever he needed manpower for something.

"Well, fine then." Waver accepted, since he was honestly quite short on people in Mineralogy after the Meluastea had gutted it. "Are you fine with joining Mineralogy or do you have a preference for Modern Magical Theory?"

"…Mineralogy is fine." Fiore said after a few moments, looking utterly thrown that he'd accepted their request so easily.

"Excellent. I must warn you though that we are currently in the middle of a reconstruction, so it might be a while before I can deliver the research facilities and resources that are worthy of a Department of the Clocktower."

"T-That is fine." Rosaly von Stahlen-Frobrecht muttered, looking just as surprised as Fiore. "We would be happy to contribute to the reconstruction ourselves, if you so desire."

"That is very generous of you." Waver smiled, happily surprised by their well-willingness. "I would be glad with any help you can offer."

"You…" Marie Alva began, before she fell silent again. Then she tried once more. "You… are strange."

"Yes." Waver nodded. He didn't know what facet of his character exactly she was referring to, but he was well aware he was unusual to say the least. "I am quite odd, perhaps even insane, but that is hardly relevant for this discussion."

"Sir." Grey sighed softly from beside him, and he felt her pull on the back of his sweater. "Don't say such things about yourself."

Marianne didn't say anything, but she did place her hand on Waver's wrist, indicating she agreed with Grey.

"I had intended to eat my dinner here, so why don't you join me and tell me what you expect from me." Waver didn't respond to their gestures though, and instead invited the three girls to sit down at his table. He'd been assigned an extra big one, perhaps because he was a lord, and that meant he had a lot of room left. "I am not buying you dinner though. This is the cheapest cafeteria in the Clocktower, foot your own bill."

That remark prompted a small snort of amusement from Marianne, though Grey's grip on his sweater tightened.

"You are being rude, Sir." She muttered.

"My wallet is painfully empty, I'm afraid." He muttered back, and Grey had to accede the point.

You couldn't be generous if you didn't have anything after all. Or worse, were majorly in the red already.

"I'll pay for the three of us." Fiore offered with a pained smile, undoubtedly having heard their little conversation about Waver's lack of money. "And thank you for accepting us as your employees."

"As I said, it is not a problem. You are helping me out as well." Waver huffed, before cocking his head to the side. "Say, why is it so shocking to you that I would accept your request?"

"We thought you would be buried under requests of this nature by now." Rosaly replied, nervously fingering the menu cart. "I heard somewhere that taking on apprentices and employees requires a lot of work, so we didn't think you'd bother with insignificant people like us."

"Yes, apprenticeships, where I have to be your full sponsor, can be quite troublesome indeed." Waver agreed, before he smiled wryly. "Something tells me though that the three of you don't want a full apprenticeship. You just want the protection my name provides, and to be left alone otherwise. That is hardly difficult."

"I-I see." Rosaly muttered, averting her gaze in embarrassment. "We'll try not to bother you."

"You can always come to me if there's a problem. If you come to work for me, you'll be my responsibility." Waver said, before holding up a finger. "Do keep in mind though that I am hopeless at Magecraft. If you want help with your Thaumaturgy, all I can do is refer you to someone else."

"Understood." Marie smiled, her eyes twinkling ever so slightly in amusement. "You truly are a man full of contradictions, Lord El-Melloi."

"I try." Waver nodded, before noticing that a waiter had just arrived at their table. "Ah, good evening. I would like a glass of Gris de Pepe as an appetizer, followed by a basket of baguette slices and herb butter, and- HUH?! Fujimaru?!"

"Good evening, Lord El-Melloi." Shirou Fujimaru, Waver's very own student, possible Sorcerer, and personal friend of Lady Barthomeloi, answered calmly, clad in a waiter-outfit, writing in his notebook as if there was nothing wrong with it. "Please continue. I would like to hear your order in full."

"Forget about my order! What are you doing here?!" Waver spluttered, unable to prevent his voice from sounding choked.

"I'm helping out at this cafeteria." Fujimaru answered as if it was obvious.

"I can see that!" Waver bristled, before taking a deep breath to calm himself. "What I mean is, why are you helping out at this cafeteria?"

"Because they needed the help, and because I like cooking." Fujimaru still sounded entirely casual about it, before he turned towards the girls, giving them a short nod in greeting. "Good evening, miss Forvedge, miss Von Stahlen-Frobrecht, miss Alva. I am happy to see you are doing well."

"Good evening, mister Fujimaru." Fiore replied, giving him an easy smile. "Yes, we are indeed doing quite well. What about yourself?"

"A bit busy, but nothing I cannot handle." Fujimaru smiled back at the brunette. "I heard you will be joining the Department of Mineralogy?"

"You heard correctly." Fiore, who apparently had taken on the role of spokesperson for the moment, nodded. "Being independent isn't the best of ideas during these troublesome times, except for someone like yourself of course."

That last bit was quickly added on to the previous sentence, perhaps to avoid angering Fujimaru, but the redhead just looked a bit forlorn after hearing it.

"Independent? I wish." He sighed, glancing to the side for a moment, after which his expression became outright miserable. "I'm afraid my choice has already been made for me."

No one really knew how to answer that, so it remained silent for a while, before Waver decided to cut in, as there were still several questions he wanted an answer to.

"So you work here now?" He asked, rather hung up on that still.

"For now, yes." Fujimaru perked up again at Waver's question, readily answering it. "I decided to work the evenings here after the trials are over, to relax a bit. I usually work in the kitchen though, not as a waiter."

"Then what has caused you to stray so far from your normal task today?"

"You, Lord El-Melloi." Fujimaru pointed at him.

"Me?"

"Yes, you. Lords of Ruling Families don't tend to dine here. Your presence here was rather shocking for the normal staff." The redhead explained, and Waver flushed a bit in embarrassment. "Especially since Lady Barthomeloi arrived here a short while before you did."

"The Vice-Director was here?!" That was Marie Alva, who reacted like a spooked rabbit at the mention of that name. Considering it wasn't all that long ago that Lady Barthomeloi wanted to kill her, the reaction wasn't unwarranted.

"She still is." Fujimaru pointed off into the distance, and following his finger, Waver indeed found Lorelei Barthomeloi sitting at a table in the very same cafeteria, once more wearing oddly casual clothes, which was probably the main reason she wasn't immediately recognised. "I took her order as well, just now. The beef has to rest for a few minutes though, so I had some time to come and take your orders as well. On that note, have you been able to make a choice yet?"

That question was asked to the entire table, and Waver, who decided to just give up and accept the situation without fuzz, completed the order he'd broken off previously, after which the girls also placed theirs.

"Thank you for your patronage. Your orders will arrive soon." Fujimaru said solemnly, before turning around to return to the kitchen.

"Hold it." A voice suddenly said sternly.

It took a few seconds for Waver to realise it had been his own voice –he hadn't intended to call out, but it had just happened– but once he did, and Fujimaru had turned back to him with a curious look, he decided to make the most of it.

"Why is Lady Barthomeloi here?" He thus asked.

"To speak with me, apparently." Fujimaru looked over his shoulder for a moment, at the lady in question, before turning back. "I don't know about what though. I told her to wait until the busy hours have passed."

"You are making her wait?" Waver managed to keep his voice calm this time, but only just. "That is a bold move, Fujimaru."

"It's nothing personal. I simply have work to do." Fujimaru frowned a bit, crossing his arms. "Besides, she has ordered dinner herself, so evidently, she doesn't mind."

How on Earth was Waver supposed to answer that?!

"Well, as long as Lady Barthomeloi agrees." He eventually settled on the diplomatic option. "Heh, you've come quite far. It's hard to believe we were biting our nails off over one meeting with Lady Barthomeloi only a month ago."

"Things have changed quickly." Fujimaru agreed, though he made no comment on whether the change was good or bad. "Lord El-Melloi, I apologise, but I really have to get back to work."

"Of course, I will no longer keep you." Waver nodded. "I wish you the best of luck, Fujimaru."

"Thank you, sir. You as well." Fujimaru nodded back, and then he was off for real.

"Well then, to get back to our own conversation." Waver turned towards his newest students again, ready to continue hashing out their arrangements. "What exactly are your fields of research?"

---

"The more I learn about Carlton Paris, the more I get the idea that he was some kind of drug."

That was the bombshell that Ayako suddenly dropped during lunch at the Emiya-estate, and both Rin and Sakura froze with their spoons in their mouths, in identical positions, for a moment allowing the world to see that they were indeed sisters.

"Drugs?" Rin asked in stupefaction once she'd swallowed her mouthful, knowing perfectly well what those were from the mandatory classes at school that were meant to arm teenagers against the stuff. "What do you mean?"

"How can a person be a drug?" Sakura added, looking quite mystified. "Do you mean he was a golem made of drugs?"

"Or had he been infused with the Concept of drugs?" Rin wondered, before she frowned. "But how would you know that sooner than me?"

"Okay, girls, stop." Ayako held up a hand to stop the nonsense. "That is not what I meant. I am just trying to say that the effect he had on his clients is uncannily similar to that of drugs."

"In what way?" Rin asked, sounding genuinely curious.

"Well, let's check them one by one, shall we? First of all, judge Koyama, who said Paris-san was the only thing making her happy. Okay, she didn't say it directly, but that was pretty much the gist of it."

"That doesn't have to mean anything." Sakura cocked her head to the side, slowly scratching her cheek. "Maybe she was just in love."

"Second, the idol, Nagao Harumi. Even though she is a very famous idol who earns millions per year, she was risking it all just to be with Paris-san."

"It could be love again." Rin offered, though she sounded unsure.

"Third, Kaneshiro Yoko, who clearly didn't care much about him yet kept hiring him all the same."

"Definitely not love." Sakura agreed, looking very pensive now. "And Kaneshiro-san did not look like the kind of woman who is so desperate for companionship she'd keep hiring a man she didn't much care for."

"Fourth, and this one really got me thinking, is Sumida Gina." Ayako leaned forward at this point, and Sakura and Rin unconsciously followed her example, bringing their heads together. "Don't you think that her erratic behaviour looked a lot like those rehabilitating addicts in the clips that they showed us during those special classes?"

"Now that you mention it, yes." Sakura nodded, her eyes widening in shock. "Do you mean she was going through withdrawal?"

"I am neither a doctor nor a psychologist, so I wouldn't know exactly, but it sure looked like it." Ayako nodded. "As for the last piece of evidence I have-"

"Maita Rei." Rin concluded, nodding to herself. "Yes, the woman who didn't even like Paris-san, at all, yet found herself utterly unable to resist him whenever he showed up again in her life."

"Indeed." Ayako concurred. "Now, it could be of course that when God was handing out male charm and charisma, Paris-san took an extra helping, but recently, I learned all about this strange world full of amazing things, and I cannot help but wonder if Paris-san wasn't using some kind of… 'help'."

"A love-spell, you mean?" Rin raised an eyebrow, before shaking her head. "Something like that does not exist."

"Good to know, but it wasn't what I meant." Ayako corrected her. "Like I said, his clients are clearly going through withdrawal symptoms, and while I know that there's no such thing as a love drug in the normal world, I don't know that for sure about the Moonlit World."

"Something as intangible and undefined as love cannot be artificially created, with either a spell or a drug." Rin repeated.

"What about a drug that can make you obsessed with someone though?"

"…Well." Rin hesitated in her reply, her brow creasing deeply as she thought. "I cannot entirely rule out the existence of such a substance. Considering Hypnosis exists, it is not unthinkable that a Magus somewhere managed to crystalize that power and alter it in such a way that it induces obsession."

"So it is possible?" Ayako asked eagerly.

"That it is possible does not mean it is what happened though." Sakura reminded them, her brow creased just as deeply as Rin's. "I mean, can you honestly believe that a Magus would waste that kind of power on preying on rich women for years?"

"He might have been doing other stuff on the side." Ayako tried, defending her theory. "And it does explain the behaviour of his clients."

"It is an explanation, yes, but there is no proof it is the correct one." Sakura countered, her voice rising slightly. "I for one find the idea of Carlton Paris being a Magus exceedingly unlikely."

"He could have stolen the powder?"

"We don't even know whether there is a powder at all, Ayako."

"But if we assume for the moment that there is…"

"Which we have no proof of-"

"You know what? We're going to determine this once and for all." Rin interrupted their discussion, looking quite fed up with their back-and-forth. "Tomorrow, we're going to visit Maita Rei again, or judge Koyama, or that idol, or whoever, and I will examine them for any possible traces of Magecraft. That should tell us whether Paris was indeed a Magus or a thief or something."

"Ah, that's a good idea, Nee-san." Sakura agreed, happy that her sister had managed to settle the issue so decisively.

"Yes, good going, Rin." Ayako praised her enthusiastically.

"Hm, well, naturally." Rin huffed, flipping her hair over her shoulder, before looking down her nose at them. "So stop your senseless bickering. What would Emiya-kun think if he saw you squabbling like that?"

"Nothing wrong with a lively discussion, Rin." Ayako grinned. "It wasn't as if we were arguing."

"Hm." Rin closed her eyes for a moment, before she sighed deeply. "Well, whatever. Do we want to visit Rei-san again today or shall we wait until tomorrow?"

"Senpai is due to call in an hour, so I think it would be better to wait until tomorrow." Sakura replied, casting a look at the phone with a soft smile. "We aren't in a rush."

"Very well." Ayako nodded, before frowning. "No, wait. I have to visit my parents first tomorrow. We have a doctor's appointment together in the morning."

"Your health comes first of course." Rin said sagely. "We can wait until you're back."

"Indeed." Sakura agreed.

"Thanks, girls! I appreciate it." Ayako beamed, giving Sakura a kiss on the cheek and Rin a pat on the shoulder.

"That is nothing to thank us for." Rin grumbled, before spluttering angrily when Ayako gave her a kiss on the cheek as well.

She really was so adorable.

---

It was nearing eleven in the evening when the dinner rush finally came to a close in the main cafeteria of the Clocktower. Just about everyone had eaten their fill by now, and after they'd had a last drink, the guests started wandering off again, to their Workshops, their offices, their beds, or even to actual pubs to continue drinking.

With the rush over, there was a lot of cleaning up to do. Shirou had been all poised to help out with that, but Emmanual and Syr had resolutely forbidden it. The Vice Director was waiting for him after all, and there was no way they were going to make her wait for any longer than was absolutely necessary.

As such, he'd practically been evicted from the kitchen, and he wasn't to come back until he had settled matters with the Queen.

"Lady Barthomeloi? I am free now." Shirou said as he walked up to the lady's table. "You had something to talk about with me?"

"Fujimaru, take a seat." She motioned towards the chair on the other side of her table, and Shirou gladly accepted the offer. "Yes, there are several matters to discuss."

"Matters that could not be discussed during or after the trial?" Shirou asked, wondering what her motives here were.

"I am aware the timing of this conversation is not ideal." Lady Barthomeloi acknowledged, looking vaguely apologetic. "However, I ask that you accept it nonetheless."

"I am here, am I not?" Shirou sighed, not missing the fact she hadn't answered his question at all. "So yeah, I accept it."

"Much obliged." She nodded, before she looked around a bit, and then muttered several spells under her breath.

The next moment, several Bounded Fields against eavesdropping went up, and Shirou, who by now was more than aware that there was no such thing as being too cautious in the Clocktower, took the liberty of adding several more himself, which got him a small nod from the brunette.

"Are you a Sorcerer?" She then asked bluntly.

Despite having expected a question like that at some point or another –she'd directly seen him turn Marie Alva back into a human after all, which could easily be mistaken for him using the Third True Magic– Shirou was still momentarily flummoxed by her directness.

Nevertheless, he answered promptly.

With a lie.

"Yes." He nodded, almost embarrassed by how easily the deceptive answer flowed out of his mouth. "I am. But you knew that already."

"I did." She seemed glad he wasn't going to try and deny it. "Are you aware of the implications of this?"

"Of me being a Sorcerer or of you knowing that I am a Sorcerer?"

"Both, and furthermore, of the inevitability of the entire Magus Association learning of this soon." The brunette warned him gravely. "Lady Montmorency has recently learned that several key-figures in the Democratic Faction are aware of your nature, and she believes a dozen others have their own suspicions. Your true nature will not stay secret for much longer."

"…" Shirou closed his eyes for a moment, wallowing in desperation as Lady Barthomeloi confirmed he was going to be even more notorious in the Moonlit World. What made it even worse was the fact that he actually wasn't a Sorcerer, but that the actual explanation would make the situation ten times worse.

God or Sorcerer, which one would attract more attention at this point…?

"I am of course aware you do not desire attention." Lady Barthomeloi sounded ever so slightly sympathetic as she said this. "And I do not plan on forcing you to stay here and serve me. I merely wish to ascertain that our agreements still stand."

"Okay, first of all, I have to tell you that I am not a full Sorcerer." That was important to get clear, at least in Shirou's opinion, before she started having all kinds of expectations from him which he could never live up to. "I have not mastered the Third, not by a long shot."

"I am aware of this too." She replied soothingly. "Mastering a True Magic is similar in that regard to mastering a Magecraft. It is a long and arduous path, and I do not expect you to perform Miracles at will."

"Yes." Shirou nodded, glad to see she understood so well. "Yes, good, thank you."

"Still, even the potential to master a True Magic is something that is not often seen." Apparently, Lady Barthomeloi had a flair for understatement as well. "As such, you have become extremely valuable, and thus coveted. You will likely receive many requests for alliances with numerous factions. In light of that, Lady Montmorency and I would appreciate some kind of assurance that you will remain in our faction."

"Of course. As long as you continue to work under the law, avoid harming innocents, and keep the Magi in line, I will stay on your side." Shirou reiterated the, somewhat implied, promise he had with her.

"That is good to hear." She didn't quite smile at him, but it was close enough. "To that same effect, I wish to discuss the apprenticeship of your friend. The one I promised you in exchange for your help in subduing the Meluastea."

"Oh!" Shirou had almost forgotten about that. "Yes, of course. That is still on, I hope?"

"It is." She confirmed. "All I need now are the details."

"The details?"

"When will she arrive? What is her field of research? How many accomplishments does she have?" Lady Barthomeloi gave him several examples, and although Shirou knew the answers to all three questions, he decided to go another way.

"Would it be possible for my friend to contact you herself soon?" The redhead asked, already drawing up ways in his head of arranging an untraceable line of communication between Rin and Lady Barthomeloi. "I think she can much better answer your questions than I."

"I shall allow it." She made a strange half-circular motion with her hand, which almost seemed like a part of a spell, though it didn't carry any Magical Energy. "Monday from five in the afternoon to nine in the evening. Wednesday from nine in the evening to twelve in the night. Saturday from midday to midnight. Those are the times I will be available the coming year, bar any unforeseen circumstances."

"I see." Shirou nodded, memorising the stated times. "I will make sure she calls you so you can sort out the details."

"Nevertheless, I would still appreciate it if you could tell me her primary field of research." Lady Barthomeloi repeated. "So that I may prepare suitable lessons."

"She practices Gemcraft." Shirou decided to just tell her. "Are you familiar with it?"

"Very. It is not my preferred field, but I have considerable talent for it." The brunette sounded almost boastful as she said this, before her eyes gleamed with pride. "My Attribute is that of the Almighty after all."

That was the second time she'd told him about her Attribute, and both times, it had been with great pride. Perhaps Shirou should try to find out at some point what it was.

"I'm glad to hear you are so capable." He replied eventually, which obviously stroked her ego even more. "Have you never contemplated trying to learn a True Magic yourself?"

"I have." She confirmed, her prideful expression making place for a somewhat sour one. "I do not have talent for any of them. At least not for the First, the Second, or the Third."

"What about the Fourth and the Fifth?"

"I have never pursued them." She admitted, conveying an air of perfect uncaringness. "It is said that the First changed everything, the Second was acknowledged by many, and that the Third showed the indomitable future. However, the Fourth was superfluous, and the Fifth an outright mistake. It is the general consensus among experts that it should have stopped at the Third. I will not lower myself to the point where I study such inelegant crafts as the Fourth and the Fifth."

"Really now?" Shirou had never heard of that before, but it sounded pretty interesting. "Could you explain that a bit more?"

He knew the basics of Sorcery of course, every single Magus in the World did, but Lady Barthomeloi was the Vice-Director of the Clocktower, which meant she held knowledge he couldn't even imagine.

"Do you know what the True Magics are?" Lady Barthomeloi first posed her own question.

"Vaguely." Shirou rubbed his chin. "I would appreciate it though if you could start from the beginning. What are the five True Magics?"

"The First True Magic is commonly known as the Denial of Nothingness, but that is only a facet of it." She began explaining immediately, holding up a finger in a very Rin-like fashion. "In truth, it is Illusion. Illusion powerful enough to fool Reality itself, thereby making it Truth."

"I think I can see how that works." Shirou mused. If something was created by Illusion, but Reality thought it was real, then it was real. Whether that was objects, concepts, images, or anything else.

"The Second is the Operation of Parallel Worlds, the Kaleidoscope." Lady Barthomeloi continued, her lips pursing in distaste for some reason. "I do not believe this requires explanation."

"It does not."

"The Third, as you well know, is the Heaven's Feel, the Materialisation of the Soul. Resurrecting the Dead without any negative consequences."

"Indeed." Shirou nodded. So far, she hadn't really told him anything new, but now the Fourth and Fifth were coming, the Magics he knew very little about.

"The Fourth concerns Time Travel." She explained, her finger going down again as her face turned neutral and bored. "And the Fifth relates to the absolute control over Entropy, and thus the Heat Death of the universe."

"…Aren't Time Travel and Entropy Control essentially the same thing?" Shirou decided to ask, having learned as much during physics class. "And do they not both belong to the Second Magic anyway?"

Time and Space were intrinsically linked. One could say that without Time, there was no Space, and without Space, there was no Time. They were essentially the x-axis and the y-axis of existence, which was why the phrase 'time-space continuum' held any meaning.

"The Fourth and the Fifth are indeed essentially the same." Lady Barthomeloi confirmed immediately. "And they do indeed both belong to the Second Magic. Essentially, the Fourth is a domain of the Second, and the Fifth a domain of the Fourth. That is why they are superfluous and a mistake respectively."

"I understand." Shirou nodded, carefully memorising all he had just learned. "That is… interesting."

"It is for that reason I am surprised that the current Master of the Second, Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg, has not yet dealt with the up-and-coming Master of the Fifth, Aoko Aozaki." Lady Barthomeloi continued, before she sighed. "But the Old Man of the Jewels has never paid much heed to the rules. For all that I know, he merely considers it hilarious."

"That does sound like the Zelretch I have heard about." Shirou nodded. He'd mainly heard about that guy from Rin, who hadn't been shy about telling him of the Kaleidoscope's antics in relation to her family, so while he wasn't an expert by any means, he knew enough to say that that guy did not play by anyone's rules but his own.

"That is all I know about the True Magics." Lady Barthomeloi admitted, tapping a single finger on the table. "There is some technical stuff, but that would take too long to explain and mostly consists of formulas anyway."

"I see. Thank you for the explanation." Shirou thanked her. He would take her words with a grain of salt of course, as they could very well be wrong in some way, but they were good to use as a baseline going forward.

For a few seconds after that, it remained quiet. By now, Shirou knew enough about Lady Barthomeloi's mannerisms to know that that meant she was about to change the subject.

"Grover Meluastea's remains have gone missing." Indeed, when she spoke again, it was about something completely different. "He was executed immediately after his trial, as per your request, but soon afterwards, his body and his head disappeared."

"His remains have gone missing?!" Shirou spluttered, gaping when Lady Barthomeloi nodded in confirmation. "How?!"

"We do not know." She admitted sourly, having the grace to look contrite. "None of the Bounded Fields were disturbed, and the guards did not see anything and were not assailed or otherwise compromised."

"So it was a really skilled thief." Shirou concluded, before realising there was another explanation. "If he didn't walk away himself."

"Lady Montmorency verified personally that he was dead." Lady Barthomeloi protested, though she didn't sound at all certain of her case. "His head had been cut off."

"He may have been dead at that point, but that is no guarantee that he is gone forever." Shirou shook his head. "There was no way something that malicious would die just because he was killed."

"Malicious?" Lady Barthomeloi slightly narrowed her eyes at him when he used that word. "Is this related to your request to have Grover Meluastea executed as soon as possible while you remained silent for the other members of his family?"

Shirou thought for a moment, hesitating on what to tell her, but then he just decided to inform her of everything he saw in Grover Meluastea. The hate, the contempt, the maliciousness, and above all, the sheer evil that was absolutely and utterly inhuman.

By the end of it, Lady Barthomeloi's jaws were clenched, though whether it was because of anger, fear, nervousness, or another emotion entirely, Shirou could not say.

"We will continue to look into the matter." She promised him.

"I will as well." He nodded, already making plans in his mind to scour the Clocktower for any trace of that evil creature. "If either of us finds him, we must make sure to burn his remains to ash."

"We will." She agreed, before leaning back into her chair, dispelling her part of the Bounded Fields around them. "There is nothing else I wish to discuss with you tonight, Fujimaru. I thank you for your time."

"There is no need to thank me. You are the Queen after all." Shirou smiled in good humour, also dispelling his part of the defences. "Your wish is my command."

"Oh? That did not seem to deter you from making me wait tonight."

"There are limits of course." Shirou's smile became wider at her somewhat pouty remark. "Cooking comes first. You should know your place."

"You are an impudent one."

"I try. I wouldn't be much of a Sorcerer otherwise, now would I?"

"I suppose not." Lady Barthomeloi sighed, before both she and Shirou fell silent when Lia came up to them, holding the check for the lady's dinner.

The blonde waitress put up a strong front, with her head held high and her back straight, but neither Shirou nor Lady Barthomeloi missed the shaking of her knees or the drops of sweat going down her temples.

"You can leave the bill there." Lady Barthomeloi said, motioning for Lia to place the check on the table, which she promptly did, before leaving without another word.

Shirou reached out to pick up the bill at the exact same time that Lady Barthomeloi did. Their hands collided, and they ultimately only managed to push the piece of paper off the table entirely.

"Ah." Lady Barthomeloi made a surprised sound, before she began to get up from her chair.

"No, allow me." Shirou quickly shook his head, already out of his seat, kneeling on the floor to grab the bill, which had fluttered under the table. He might not pay much heed to proper protocol around the Queen, but even he drew the line at having her crawl on the ground in front of him.

In fact, he'd rather not have any woman crawl on the ground at all if he could help it. Picking something up for a lady was nothing but good manners after all.

Unfortunately, in his need to be polite and well-mannered, Shirou had forgotten that the brunette was wearing a skirt again, and that she tended to sit either with her legs crossed or with her legs slightly spread.

Currently, it was the latter position, and Shirou was painfully reminded of that when he looked up from where he'd picked up the bill and was greeted with another perfect view up Lady Barthomeloi's skirt.

"Ghk!"

Once more, the sight struck him completely silent.

He could only stare, just like before, at the forbidden sight that no man other than him had ever had the privilege to see. His eyes followed the length of her pale thighs, which looked just as delicious as they had the last time, to the intersection of her legs, unreasonably curious as to whether she was wearing the black panties again.

Vaguely, he knew that he should probably, no, definitely stop looking, and that he was being a terrible pervert again. Most of his brain however was entirely occupied by the fact that she was wearing a different kind of underwear today. Instead of the lacy black panties from last time, this looked like light-blue lingerie, again very sheer and only just able to hide the treasure below.

He couldn't see her butt this time, as she was seated, which made Shirou feel unreasonably disappointed, but that was more than compensated by the fact that her panties turned out to be side-tie panties, fastened with nothing but mere bows on either side, looking like they could be undone with nothing but the merest tug on the loose strings.

Just as he thought that, his hands twitched, as if they would like nothing more than to give that merest tug.

All that and more shot through Shirou's head in a fraction of a second, the sight burned into his memory.

Then, from one second to the next, self-preservation took over, and he rose, so quickly he almost jumped into the air.

"Fujimaru?"

His ears were burning, his breathing was slightly heavy, and he was seconds away from having a very awkward reaction down below. In the end, it was only by biting his own tongue so viciously he drew blood that he was able to calm down.

"Fujimaru, are you well?"

"Please allow me to pay your bill." Shirou said the first thing that came to mind once he'd regained some control over his vocal cords.

"Pardon me?"

"Your check. Please allow me to pay."

"There is no need." Lady Barthomeloi shook her head after a moment of surprise. "This was my own supper, and I do not believe-"

"Lady Barthomeloi." Shirou interrupted her strongly, before taking a deep breath. "I insist."

"…" She seemed taken aback by his vehemence, the gears in her head busily turning for a moment, before she decided that this wasn't a matter worth arguing over. "Very well then. Thank you, Fujimaru."

"No, Lady Barthomeloi." Shirou shook his head, before giving her a shaky smile. "Thank you."

With that last remark, Shirou threw a wad of cash onto the table, before he stumbled away, eager to create some distance between him and the brunette, in case she figured out what had happened.

If he had a penny for every time that he'd been given a look up the Vice Director's skirt, he'd have two pennies now. Which wasn't much, but still two more than he'd ever expected or hoped to have in his life.

Why did that keep happening? What were the odds of such a ridiculous thing happening not just once, but twice, and in such short succession at that?

He would almost say that she'd showed him on purpose, if he hadn't known her to be incapable of being so roundabout and subtle. If she'd wanted him to look under her skirt, she would have just lifted it for him.

Was this his luck again? That seemed far more likely, and once more, Shirou wasn't sure to curse it or to thank it with all his heart for the situations it kept putting him in.

In the end though, he had already thanked Lady Barthomeloi for the view, which meant he'd just curse his luck instead.

---

"I know what you're thinking, mistress, but this was not my fault, I swear."

"Shut up, Ratbag." Altrouge Brunestud, Ninth of the Dead Apostle Ancestors, sneered at her most brainless servant, her teenage features, normally so adorable yet refined, distorted in something utterly grotesque. "I already know that. If I'd had even one inkling of a suspicion that it was in fact your fault, I'd have hung you from the ceiling already. Rather tell me what happened instead of making excuses."

Ratbag shivered at the threat. Being hung from the ceiling might not sound so bad for a Dead Apostle, but Altrouge had a flock of pet-crows with her that had been trained specifically to viciously peck out the organs of anyone put in that position, something that made the experience a thousand times worse.

It had been the death of many Executors and Enforcers, and numerous Apostles had been permanently traumatised by the punishment.

Ratbag had experienced it six times already, and he was in no rush to raise that number to seven, so he swallowed all his prepared excuses and instead gave a proper progress report.

It wasn't easy, being the personal assistant of Altrouge Brunestud, and especially not now that she was so agitated. For weeks now, her mood had been dark, and every day, it grew darker still. Something that was quite noticeable in the way she treated her servants, mainly Ratbag.

So far, she had limited herself to verbal abuse, but there was no telling when that might escalate to violence and torture once her irritation had reached critical levels.

Being cooped up inside the long-forgotten palace of some Nubian king who had ruled three thousand years ago, accompanied only by Ratbag, several mute guards, and a misbehaving dog, would be enough to get under anyone's skin, let alone someone as short-tempered as Altrouge.

She was reaching her boiling point, which was evident from her flushed face, her cramped hands, and the folds and tears in her once-pristine white dress. Where before she'd looked as regal as a seventeen-year-old girl could possibly look, now she looked about to bite someone's head off.

Ratbag's head, to be more precise, so the Apostle started talking quickly.

"We managed to kill all the Executors that made their way inside your base, your highness." He began with the best news he had. "Six were killed by the guards, one was killed by Primate Murder when she ran into his cage, and two were killed by you, oh Bloody One."

The corpses of those Executors were still lying next to her throne, their throats slashed and their bodies drained of every last drop of blood.

"You are sure those were all of them?"

"Very sure, mistress." Ratbag nodded eagerly.

"Very well. Continue then. How did they manage to find us?"

"This palace is saturated with Ancient Magics, it is bordered on all sides with endless desert, and it is not on any map in existence." Ratbag muttered, before raising his voice. "It has to be a traitor. We were betrayed. Someone revealed your location to the Burial Agency. There is no other possibility."

"Tsk." Altrouge clacked her tongue in annoyance. "Who?"

"That is unknown. Personally, I suspect it might have been king Trhvmn. He likes his little games, and revealing your location does sound like something he would do to pester you."

"No, Trhvmn is too busy with his grand project. He wouldn't waste time and effort on bullying tactics, not now, not when I have just agreed to join him." Altrouge said, sounding absolutely certain of herself. "Marol should have informed him by now about the arrangements of our deal."

"Marol." Ratbag spat out the name, anger rising inside of him at the mention of that guy. A young upstart who'd only gotten his position as Ancestor by sucking up to the King of the Dead Apostle Ancestors. A worthless bug through and through.

"Yes, Marol." For the first time since the conversation had begun, Altrouge smiled, though it was by no means a nice smile. "You should take an example from him. He was exceedingly polite, unlike you, not to mention powerful, unlike you."

"…" Ratbag gritted his teeth, unable to deny it. Marol might be a useless suck-up, but he was strong alright. His abilities were utterly terrifying.

"He's a whole lot better than you. You just scurry around my feet all the time, being annoying and useless." Altrouge crossed her legs, leaning with her cheek against her fist. "Are you not ashamed of yourself?"

"Yes, mistress." Ratbag nodded, falling to his knees and pressing his face into the ground. "Very ashamed."

"Good." She grinned, before her expression straightened out again. "Find the one who revealed my location to the Church and bring them to me, Ratbag. I want to give them a special punishment."

"Of course, your highness." Ratbag remained in his kow-towing position for a moment longer, before he rose and left the throne room, recognising the dismissal for what it was, holding his head high as he walked outside.

Once he was out of his mistress' sight though, he slumped against the nearest wall, muttering curses under his breath.

Ratbag was an Apostle of almost eight hundred years of age. He wasn't as ancient as the old guard, like Merem, Gransurg, or Trhvmn, but he was a lot older than most Ancestors, including Altrouge.

Despite his age however, he was sorely lacking in power, to the point where even Apostles that were five centuries his junior could easily best him. No one knew why that was, why he was so weak, but it had made him into an outcast, banished by the other Apostles who feared contracting his 'weakness-virus'.

Of all the Ancestors, Altrouge Brunestud was the only one who ever even acknowledged his existence. Ratbag didn't understand why, but for some reason, she always seemed to look after him in her own, rather cruel way.

It really made no sense. Altrouge Brunestud had managed to steal Arcueid Brunestud's hair and used it to claim a part of the power of Type Earth. She had tamed Primate Murder. She was an existence that was acknowledge by Trhvmn Ortenrosse himself.

Yet she still allowed Ratbag to stay at her side.

Whatever the cause though, Ratbag was grateful, and he always tried to be as useful as he could be to her. Admittedly, he didn't always succeed at that, but in general, he thought of himself as a pretty decent personal assistant.

At least as long as Altrouge didn't give him impossible tasks, which she tended to do rather frequently, unfortunately.

Today was no exception.

"Find the traitor, she says! Well, how!?" He hissed to himself, still leaning against the wall behind him. "Our faction is massive, and there is no shortage of Apostles in it who know our location or could find out rather easily. Our forces are spread out over Europe, and for security purposes, most of them are keeping their actions a secret. And I'm supposed to find the traitor, who may or may not exist, among them while I am stuck here? That is impossible!"

"No." He replied to himself, perking up as he realised something. "It isn't. I have friends, don't I? Friends who can help me."

"They aren't friends." He then frowned, his enthusiasm dimming again. "They just owe me favours."

"That's good enough." He waved away the issue he had raised. "They will still help me. If we use the corpses of the Executors, they can trace them back to their leaders. They specialise in that kind of stuff."

"Perhaps." He allowed. "But let's not get too enthusiastic. The woman who got caught by Primate Murder did not leave a corpse behind, I cannot get at the corpses in her highness' room, and the Executors who were slain by the guards were removed after their deaths."

"Find them again." He urged. "I need them."

Following his own advice, Ratbag broke out into a sprint, hurrying towards the place where most of the Executors had been killed. The guards had likely eaten most of the corpses by now, but he didn't need a lot. A single bone or piece of flesh would be sufficient for him to use as a lead.

He would track down the leaders of these Executors, and through them, he would find the traitor.

Ratbag wasn't a fool though. He had not told Altrouge, but he knew perfectly well that something wasn't adding up here.

If this traitor had indeed told the Church that Altrouge was at the Nubian palace, they wouldn't have sent a mere nine Executors. They would have brought an army, filled with their strongest soldiers carrying their mightiest artefacts. They would possibly even have asked help from the Clocktower, or rather, Lorelei Barthomeloi.

That was the only logical course of action when they had a real shot at killing one of the two mightiest Dead Apostle Ancestors in existence. A victory like that would have been worth almost any cost.

That the attacking force had been such a small group did not add up at all.

It was another mystery to solve on top of the rest, but Ratbag wasn't discouraged. If anything, he was elated. Solving puzzles and challenges was what he enjoyed most in life, and, at the risk of sounding arrogant, he was really quite good at it.

He hadn't survived for over eight centuries because he was bad at what he did.

There was no doubt in either Ratbag's mind that he would find the traitor, though if his suspicions were correct, that would only be the beginning.

Game on.

---

And with that, I finish the chapter. Hopefully, I only need to write like two more or something before I can have Shirou depart from the Clocktower, but we'll have to see.

Not that leaving will mean that he gets away scot-free, but that is a story for another day.

For the record, Kaneshiro Yoko, the big woman at the beginning, has some Oni-traces in her bloodline, which is why she is so huge. In the Nasuverse, having an inhuman cultivation isn't that rare in Japan.

Grover Meluastea isn't gone. He was certainly beheaded, and that was rather debilitating for him, but not fatal. He'll be back, with a grudge.

Shirou finally gets to spend some time in a kitchen again. Let's all be pleased, and let's all laugh at the few Magi who just wanted a nice dinner in the cafeteria and then found out that Shirou Fujimaru is the one preparing their food.

Now, some of you might have noticed that I didn't make Shirou a god of cooking, like some other fics do. I did that deliberately, as frankly, Shirou is good, very good, but not at the level of a professional cook, especially not when cooking for dozens of people at a time.

His home-cooked meals set people at ease and make them happy, they don't give cringy foodgasms.

And yes, Shirou getting a look up Lady Barthomeloi's skirt is going to be a running gag. No, she is not doing it on purpose, they are genuine accidents.

For the record, what Lorelei says about the True Magics does not have to be true. What she told Shirou was her understanding of them, but hey, if she actually understood what the True Magics are, she would have been able to use them herself.

As for Altrouge and Ratbag, I just wanted to write a duo with such a dynamic, and I figured I could use the Dead Apostle Diva and a guy I stole from Shadow of Mordor for that.

Hope you all enjoyed it. Have a nice day.

Ted is hauled out of his room by several guards.