Disclaimer: Fate/Stay Night and Persona 3 Reload are not my property. The only thing that belongs to me is the creation of this crossover between both worlds.
" " Character speaking
" " Character thinking
" "What the character reads
Chapter 2: Omens Beneath the Cross
The night cloaked Fuyuki's church in a veil of darkness, pierced only by the faint glow of starlight. The imposing and austere building stood as a silent testament to time. Each stone seemed to carry centuries of stories, and the shadows cast by nearby streetlights lent the place an air of solemnity and detachment.
Bazett Fraga McRemitz paused before the massive wooden doors. Her sharp, calculating reddish-brown eyes scanned the structure with a focus that betrayed her outward calm. In her right hand, she firmly but casually held a briefcase, a gesture embodying the confidence of a seasoned combatant.
"A place as neutral as it is dangerous" she murmured, her words laden with pragmatism.
At her side, Makoto Yuki stood relaxed, hands in the pockets of his jacket, his posture nonchalant. Yet his deep blue eyes, filled with unfathomable secrets, carefully observed every corner, every shadow.
"Neutral, huh?" he echoed, breaking the silence with a casual, almost irreverent tone. "Doesn't seem very welcoming."
Bazett didn't turn to him, but her response was as direct as always.
"We're not here to feel welcome, Lancer."
Makoto smirked faintly, the kind of expression that balanced sarcasm and genuine amusement.
"You're right. Architecture isn't my thing."
Without further delay, Bazett approached the doors, stopping just before pushing them open. She turned to Makoto, her unwavering gaze a silent command.
"Lancer, you'll stay outside."
Makoto raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms with a deliberate show of disbelief.
"Excuse me?"
"It's neutral ground. Combat is forbidden here, and we don't need to cause unnecessary trouble."
Makoto let out a theatrical sigh, though his gaze held more curiosity than irritation.
"Neutral doesn't mean safe, does it?"
Bazett tightened her grip on the briefcase slightly, her voice calm but cold.
"That's why I trust myself. I don't need you to follow me."
Makoto's smirk widened, a spark of mockery in his expression.
"Then if something happens, can I say:I told you so?"
Bazett didn't respond. She simply turned to the door and pushed it open firmly. The heavy sound of the wood moving resonated in the air, as though the church itself acknowledged her presence.
Crossing the threshold, the atmosphere shifted. The air was denser, almost laden with something intangible yet palpable. The dim light from the chandeliers flickered against the stone walls, creating shadows that seemed to move on their own. Stained glass windows, with their intricate designs, filtered light into muted hues that barely softened the oppressive ambiance.
Near the altar, beneath the dominating cross, stood Kirei Kotomine. His tall, upright figure merged with the solemnity of the place. His hands were clasped before him, and his neutral expression radiated a calm that felt almost inhuman.
"Bazett" he greeted, inclining his head slightly. His deep voice resonated in the vast interior like a whisper that nevertheless commanded attention.
Bazett returned a slight nod, her tone professional but tinged with familiarity.
"Kirei. It's a pleasure to see you again."
Kirei's gaze shifted to Makoto, who was idly observing the stained glass windows as if they were more interesting than the man before them.
"I assume this is your Servant" Kirei remarked, allowing a faint smile to cross his face without disturbing his composure. "Lancer, I presume?"
Makoto turned to him with deliberate calm, his eyes glinting with a touch of irony.
"What gave it away?"
Bazett, clearly annoyed, shot a warning glance at Makoto, but Kirei showed no sign of discomfort.
"A combination of intuition and logical deduction" Kirei replied serenely.
Makoto tilted his head, as if evaluating the words, and responded with a tone of innocence that fooled no one.
"How logical would it be to bring a stranger to a neutral church?"
Bazett, exasperated, stepped forward.
"Lancer, that's enough."
Makoto shrugged, but before he could say more, his gaze fixed on Kirei with a spark of interest.
"Why seven Servants?" he asked abruptly, without preamble.
Kirei blinked slowly, his expression remaining as serene as ever.
"It's the limit established by the founders. More than seven would jeopardize the Grail's stability."
Makoto nodded, as if pondering the answer.
"And what if someone tried to exceed that limit?"
Bazett closed her eyes briefly, as if questioning how she ended up in this situation, before placing a firm hand on her Servant's shoulder.
"Lancer."
Kirei, however, didn't seem offended. If anything, his smile seemed to widen slightly.
"That's an interesting question, Lancer. But some answers can only be discovered through experience."
Makoto smirked challengingly before stepping away from Bazett, apparently satisfied with the response.
Finally, Kirei produced a sealed envelope from his robe and handed it to Bazett.
"Here is your authorization letter. Everything you need is inside."
Bazett took the envelope swiftly, nodding in gratitude.
As they turned to leave, Kirei spoke again, this time addressing Makoto directly.
"Lancer, mind your curiosity. Not everyone in this war will be as patient as I am."
Makoto glanced over his shoulder, smiling with almost insolent confidence.
"I'll keep that in mind."
Bazett didn't wait any longer and gave him a gentle push toward the exit. As they crossed the doors, the fresh night air enveloped them, dissipating the church's oppressive atmosphere.
"Is it necessary to irritate everyone we meet?" Bazett asked, her frustration unmasked.
Makoto gazed up at the starry sky, his expression serene.
"I wouldn't call it irritating. It's gathering information."
Bazett shook her head, though she couldn't help but feel a small measure of admiration for her audacious Servant.
"Welcome to the Holy Grail War, Lancer. I hope you don't make me regret it."
Makoto smiled, this time with a warmth that contrasted with his usual attitude.
Don't worry, Bazett. I haven't even started yet."
The church fell into complete silence after Bazett and her Servant departed.
Kirei Kotomine remained motionless, his gaze fixed on the cross above the altar. Despite his apparent stillness, his mind was a torrent of thoughts, like an underground river flowing forcefully yet unseen.
His fingers played idly with the rosary hanging from his hand. A faint smile crossed his lips, a gesture more cruel than pious.
"The Command Seals on her hands…" he murmured to himself, his voice barely audible as it blended with the shadows of the church—. What a waste. If only I'd had the chance to... borrow them.
It was true that he regretted not obtaining Bazett's Command Seals. In more capable hands—his hands—they could have been an invaluable tool for shaping the war to his favor. Yet at the same time, there was something deeply satisfying about imagining Bazett's expression when she finally faced the reality of her situation.
"Her confidence in having summoned the true Cu Chulainn…" His smile widened as he bowed his head slightly, closing his eyes as if savoring the thought. "There's no greater delight than watching an illusion crumble before its creator's eyes."
The echo of his words stretched through the empty church, amplifying the weight of his voice.
"A legendary hero reduced to an insolent youth... A —student hero,— perhaps that's what he could be called" Kirei's brief, dry laugh reverberated like a somber bell.
Suddenly, he sensed a familiar presence behind him, even before the sound of footsteps reached his ears. He didn't need to turn to know who it was.
"You take far too much pleasure in these trivialities, priest" spoke a deep, authoritative voice, laden with disdain.
Kirei lifted his gaze to the cross for one moment longer before turning slowly. There stood Gilgamesh, the King of Heroes, approaching with an almost otherworldly grace. The light from the candelabras reflected off the golden accents of his armor, making him appear all the more majestic.
"Gilgamesh" Kirei greeted, inclining his head respectfully, his tone reverent yet devoid of submission.
The King of Heroes stopped before the altar, crossing his arms as he regarded the spot where Bazett had stood minutes earlier with disdain.
"That woman, Bazett…" he said with a mocking smile. "What a pathetic scene she put on. Her fervor in protecting those Command Seals was almost entertaining."
Kirei responded with a slight curl of his lips, as if sharing in Gilgamesh's amusement.
"She is a proud woman, but her pride blinds her. She doesn't comprehend the extent of her own powerlessness."
Gilgamesh chuckled, a brief but scornful laugh.
"And her Servant…" he continued, his tone dripping with mockery. "Does she truly believe that boy could be the hero of Ulster? What a sad joke."
Kirei nodded slightly, a flicker of malice gleaming in his eyes.
"The irony is exquisite, I must admit. The stronger her conviction, the more painful her fall when she discovers the truth."
The King of Heroes regarded Kirei with interest, his crimson eyes glowing like embers.
"You seem to enjoy her misfortune far too much, priest. Does that not contradict your role?"
Kirei raised an eyebrow, his expression remaining serene.
"My role, as you well know, is merely an instrument of divine will. If that will includes showing Bazett the futility of her efforts, who am I to question it?"
Gilgamesh laughed again, this time more drawn-out, clearly enjoying the response.
"Your hypocrisy is almost as entertaining as her delusions. But tell me, priest, do you truly believe that child has any purpose in this war?"
Kirei paused, as if carefully weighing his words.
"A purpose? Perhaps not. But even the most insignificant pieces can serve a function... under the right circumstances."
Gilgamesh regarded the priest silently for a moment, as though assessing the truth of his statement. Finally, he turned and began walking toward the exit, the black fabric of his undershirt rippling slightly in a faint breeze.
"I hope this war offers me more than simple fools and farces, Kirei. Don't make me regret allowing you to remain by my side."
Kirei inclined his head slightly, a gesture that could be interpreted as both reverence and indifference.
As Gilgamesh disappeared into the shadows, Kirei turned back toward the altar. His eyes fixed on the cross for a long moment, his mind once again returning to Bazett's face, to the pride and confidence he had seen in her.
"It will be interesting to see how much she can endure before reality consumes her" he murmured, his words echoing like a somber refrain in the dim church.
The candlelight flickered, casting shadows on the walls as if responding to unseen forces, pushing back the cold night air of Fuyuki.
The small temporary base she had set up lacked any sense of warmth: just a desk, a map covered in marks, and a bed. Everything necessary for war, but devoid of any personal touch.
She shrugged off her coat with a sigh and draped it over the back of a chair. The war had barely begun, and she already felt that something was amiss. That gnawing sense of uncertainty, of things slipping out of control, was a thorn lodged in her mind.
"I can't focus like this," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
Her gaze drifted to the room's other occupant. Makoto Yuki, her Servant, sat in an armchair by the window, one leg crossed over the other, his head tilted slightly toward the glass. His posture was relaxed, almost careless, as if he were idly watching time pass instead of preparing for war.
"Servant," she called, crossing her arms.
Makoto slowly turned his head, his gray eyes meeting Bazett's. His expression held neither surprise nor annoyance, only a calmness that unsettled her.
"Yes?" he replied, his tone neutral.
Bazett pressed her lips together, trying to suppress her growing irritation. Something about him, about that distant attitude, clashed with everything she had expected from a Servant.
"I want answers," she finally said, her voice firm like an order. "Who are you really?"
Makoto blinked, as if the question carried no weight for him.
"Makoto Yuki. I'm your Servant."
"I'm not asking about your name," Bazett cut in, stepping closer to him. "I'm asking about your identity. What hero are you? What era do you come from?"
Makoto observed her silently for a few seconds, his eyes never leaving hers. Finally, he turned his gaze back to the window.
"I'm not a hero."
The answer was so simple, so direct, that Bazett was momentarily at a loss for words.
"That makes no sense," she countered, trying to regain control of the conversation. "All Servants are heroes. They represent legends, stories of people who achieved great things."
Makoto rose from the armchair slowly, turning to face her. Though he wasn't taller than her, something about his presence made her take a step back.
"Legends aren't always the truth," he said, his voice quieter but heavy with meaning. "Sometimes, stories are just that: stories."
Bazett frowned, unsure how to interpret his words.
"Then why are you here?" she asked, her tone now more inquisitive than confrontational. "How did you end up as my Servant?"
Makoto shrugged, as if the answer didn't matter much to him.
"I don't know. I guess something in my life made me fit this war. But there's no point in worrying about the past."
Bazett crossed her arms, feeling like every response from Makoto was like trying to catch smoke with her hands.
"And what am I supposed to do with you?" she asked finally, her frustration evident. "If you're not a hero, if you don't even know why you're here, how can I trust you?"
Makoto looked at her steadily, his gray eyes reflecting an almost otherworldly calm.
"You don't need to trust me. Just give me orders, and I'll follow them."
The simplicity of his response left Bazett silent. She had expected resistance, arrogance, or even some attempt at manipulation, but what she found was something far more unsettling.
Makoto stepped toward the map hanging on the wall, studying the marks and annotations Bazett had made.
"This is the battlefield, right?" he asked, pointing at the lines she had drawn on the paper.
Bazett nodded, still trying to process what she had just heard.
"Yes. The marked areas are possible locations of the other Masters and Servants."
Makoto nodded slowly, his eyes tracing each detail on the map.
"Tell me what you need me to do. I'll start there."
Makoto's pragmatic response reminded Bazett that, in the end, this war wasn't about trust or understanding. It was a matter of strategy and survival.
"For now, I need you to keep watch over this area," she said, pointing to a specific spot on the map. "There's likely to be activity there, but I'm not sure what kind."
Makoto nodded once, his expression unchanged.
"Understood."
As he headed toward the door, Bazett watched him with a mix of frustration and curiosity. There was something deeply enigmatic about him, something she couldn't ignore.
"Makoto," she called before he left.
He stopped, turning to look at her.
"Yes?"
"I'll trust you for now. But if I ever think you're not who you claim to be…"
"You'll break the contract," he finished, his tone as neutral as ever. "Understood."
With those words, he left the room, leaving Bazett alone with her thoughts and a growing sense of unease. As she stared at the map, she couldn't help but wonder whether this Servant would be an asset or a liability in the war.
But Makoto, walking through the streets of Fuyuki, harbored no such doubts. His purpose was clear: to assist Bazett as best he could, for things would undoubtedly grow more complicated once the Holy Grail War began in earnest.
Chapter End
This chapter focused on exploring the dynamic between Makoto and Bazett, which is clearly strained from the very beginning. The reason is simple: Bazett was expecting the hero Cu Chulainn, not a "heroic teenager." It's no surprise that both Kirei and Gilgamesh doubt Makoto's abilities based solely on his appearance as a student.
Undoubtedly, many things will change. For instance, Kirei won't have Lancer under his control this time. The simplest way I came up with to achieve this was to have Makoto choose to follow Bazett, regardless of whether she liked that decision or not. Additionally, I wanted to highlight Kirei's evaluation of the situation.
Perhaps the next chapter will take place on February 1, 2004—the day Saber is summoned.
As for the Chaldea Omake, I'll write it after the next chapter, since I prefer to first explore interactions with the Servants from Stay Night.
For now, I plan to let Bazett catch a glimpse of Makoto's past and include some more relaxed moments before the war officially begins.
I've read your comments, and I truly appreciate you taking the time to share your thoughts on the story.
Wishing you all an excellent day!
P.S.: I'm unsure about including Social Links; I think it might work better for something like Ataraxia or even FGO.