V1C2

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“Hey, I wanna go here! I wanna try their beef fried rice!”

Karin thrust her smartphone into my face as we walked. Her request

for this lunchtime was a Chinese restaurant she’d supposedly looked

up in advance.

“Where are we, anyway? I think we’re lost… Wait, Sub-Level 12?

That’s below sea level, right? Is that really ok?”

“You like Chinese, dontcha Eri?”

“As much as the next guy, sure. But this place…their menu’s got

nothing but the tingly kind of spicy. Don’t they have any of the

hotter Japanese-style stuff?”

“What’s that now? I’m hearin’ a lotta grumblin’ for someone who

woulda just gone and gotten us stuck in an infinite loop if I’d left

it up to them! Unidentifiable red grease on one side, somethin’ you

could eat with one hand in five seconds on the other. Just hit up

Caren’s place in Shibuya if that’s what you want!”

The boy was clutching the smartphone he’d been handed with both

hands, staring intently at the screen. Karin placed her hands on his

shoulders and addressed him mock-apologetically.

“You listenin’, kid? This girl’ll burn your sense of taste right

out. Hang around with her for too long, and you’ll end up rolling

around on the floor with smoke comin’ outta your ears. And don’t even

get me started on the horror that’ll be waitin’ for you the next

morning…”

The boy nodded. “I see.”

“Y-you’re saying that, but it’s not like you eat anything other

than junk food. I’m getting ulcers just thinking about it.”

I still had some reservations about our choice of dining

establishment, but in a sense I was in luck – it happened to be

located near a district that I needed to visit in order to make some

purchases. And time spent delving the bowels of this labyrinth was

hardly time wasted, even from a work perspective. I might have

already known these places as points on a map, but it was always a

very different experience to visit them for real.

–

We descended an elevated walkway at a leisurely pace, bound for a

city block filled with commercial facilities. Our route had been

slightly roundabout, but it was more than worth it for the view.

Through the spaces between the high-rise buildings we could see the

artificial shore, where beachgoers’ parasols bloomed like a garden of

flowers. Windsurfers’ colourful sails adorned the open ocean.

Out of nowhere, Karin prodded me in the side. “She says she’s

wonderin’ how your wound’s getting’ on.”

“Kouyou, you mean?”

She nodded. At that moment, the Ogress dispelled her spiritual form

and manifested next to us. The walkway creaked a little, as hundreds

of pounds of artificial matter formed from concentrated mana suddenly

settled on top of it. The townspeople around us started at her

monstrous appearance. A youth gliding past us wobbled on his electric

skates, and almost fell over.

Kouyou walked alongside us with heavy steps, matching our pace, her

white kimono fluttering behind her. It was almost like a barrier had

been erected down the middle of the walkway.

“It’s fine. To tell you the truth, it still hurts a lot, but I’m

alright. Thanks.”

I stretched upwards a little to place a hand on her neck. Her eye

swivelled around for a moment to hold me in its gaze, her head still

drooping forward, and then she returned to spiritual form.

“…Hm? Kou-you?” The boy looked around us in confusion, and

stretched out a hand to the space that Kouyou’s massive bulk had

occupied until a moment ago.

“Kouyou’s still here, with us. She never leaves Karin’s side. She’s

just in spiritual form right now.”

“…That’s amazing.” The boy must have been shocked to his core,

because his eyes were wide as saucers. You know you can do the

same thing if you try, right? Knowledge like that would have been

even more basic than common sense for an ordinary Servant, but even

that seemed to be beyond him.

“I know, right? There’s no way I could ever get her on an elevator

in a million years. And she sends escalators into reverse, too!”

“Amazing.”

“I’m sure you could find something else to compliment her on”, I

muttered. Karin’s face was positively glowing, as she waxed lyrical

about Kouyou like a proud mother. Suddenly, she whirled around to

look at me.

“Anyway, I was thinking. Don’t you think it’s about time you gave

this kid a name? Since you’re in charge of him now and all. I know

what Caren said, but I’m pretty sure she just meant it from an

administration perspective. You can’t expect to actually call him

“(TBD)” forever.”

“Well, we have been.” That said, what she said made sense. I’d

been mulling it over too, in some corner of my mind. The problem was

that the true name I’d had so much confidence in - Saint-Exupéry

– had been politely but firmly turned down by Ms. Fujimura, and I

was struggling to make any more progress.

“This Exupéry guy

didn’t have any nicknames, did he?”

“He did, but…just “Saint-Ex”, I think.”

“Not exactly the cutest name in the world, huh… How about Little

Prince?”

“A little bit on-the-nose, don’t you think? And it doesn’t exactly

solve our problem. It’s not like we can just casually call him that.”

I admitted that it suited him, but it wasn’t a name you could use in

the middle of the street. Karin crossed her arms, and pulled a

thoughtful face.

“Yeah, guess you’re right… Lots of nobility among Servants

anyway, so it could get pretty confusing. We think he’s French,

right? How do you say “little prince” in French?”

“Look it up yourself, why don’t you… “Le Petit Prince”, I

think?” I was pretty sure, anyway. I remembered it from the title

of the book in France, its country of origin. “Hoshi no Ouji-sama”,

in Japanese.

“I see, I see… Then how about we call him ‘Pran’?”

“'Pran’…” She’d taken it from the French pronunciation. We

might as well just be calling him “Little Prince” as far as

meaning went, but this way seemed much more like a name. I turned

back to him with a sigh.

“Would you let us call you Pran for a little while? I’d like to fit

you with a classification tag as well. I don’t want you wandering off

and getting yourself lost.”

He nodded with surprising vigour – although I could not swear to

how much of what I was saying he understood.

“Praaan.”

“Don’t stretch it out. It’s a short sound. Pran.”

Karin gave a carefree laugh as she watched our exchange. “It’d be

nice if you really were the Little Prince, huh, Pran? Just like Eri

says.”

“I think maybe we should be trying to find his Master, rather than

playing at True Name Discernment.”

The child himself, as usual, seemed nonplussed.

–

Once the pedestrians around us had thinned out, Karin leaned over to

murmur in my ear. “So, who was the scary lady back there?”

Her eyebrows were knotted seriously as she whispered, but I could

sense that on some level she was putting on an act. As likely as not,

Chitose had stirred a different kind of curiosity in her to what she

felt towards my mysterious Servant, and she was enjoying the novelty.

“The hell was that “Stigmata” stuff all about, anyway? Eri, you

called her Chitose, right?”

She rested her head on my shoulder, and then started to slide her

face in even closer. She could be a real nuisance sometimes.

“C'mooon, just tell me. It’s some super secret thing that you don’t

want anybody asking about, ri~ght?”

“Then don’t ask me. And you’re way too close.”

“My bad, failed my will save. Anyway, you know her, right? I guess

that suuuper retro getup makes sense if she’s one of Caren’s friends.

She’s not one of your upperclassmen at school, is she? Don’t tell me

she’s famous?”

That Karin had happened to meet me at the lecture had been the worst

luck. Although Chitose’s existence wasn’t really much of a secret -

any resident of Mosaic City could find out about her if they looked

in the right places, or asked one of the Caren Series.

“Famous, huh…well, she used to be, I guess. Not so much any

more.” I resigned myself to telling her the truth. It was better to

come clean and explain now than have her poking around in strange

places.

“Chitose’s…she’s my grandmother.”

“Y'what? Your grandmother? So she’s like…an old lady?”

“That’s right.”

“But…wait, you mean…?”

Karin looked at me blankly, her expression frozen in surprise. For

better or for worse – mostly worse – we’d known each other for a

long time, but the only other time I’d seen her look this shocked was

when she learned that I didn’t possess a Holy Grail. Even so,

eventually her insatiable curiosity won out.

“People from before the war can’t reverse their ages like that, can

they? Even if they could, wouldn’t it take, like…all their Command

Seals…?”

“Chitose’s always looked like that, since a long time ago. But she

really is my grandmother.”

“You’ve gotta be pullin’ my leg.”

“She’s not exactly famous, but she’s well-known in certain circles,

I guess? The girl in the hat must have something to do with that.”

“Then…she’s a magus? You’re tellin’ me your granny’s an actual,

proper Master? Eri, that’s crazy. Damn, this is something really

big…” Karin paled, and she stared at the ground with a hand over

her mouth. Pran gazed up at her, a concerned expression on his face.

“Hahah. Seeing this reaction makes me wonder why I didn’t tell you

sooner.” I cracked an awkward smile. This hadn’t gone as I

expected.

“I-I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

A true magus, whose lineage dated back to the pre-war era. That

pointed to a deep connection to the previous Holy Grail War.

–

Karin, with the sensibilities particular to the post-war generation,

had rarely spoken to me about her household. As a result, there was a

limit to how much I knew about her family situation.

I did know that her house was located in Shibuya, that she had

siblings, and that she attended the middle school in her district.

Her parents, much like the rest of their generation, had been granted

Holy Grails; however, they had not accepted them. They rejected their

usage wholesale, and had apparently never so much as activated their

Command Seals, while their Servants remained stowed away and

unsummoned. There were not many such people in this city, but they

did exist.

Such a strict worldview would undoubtedly have had some effect on the

way they interacted with and raised their daughter. I couldn’t see a

Servant so visibly abnormal as the Ogress Kouyou being well-received

in her household, and I didn’t think it was a coincidence that Karin

came so often to visit me and spent so little time at home. Perhaps

it had been the fact that I had been visibly making a living on my

own, free of the ties of family, that had put her at ease around me.

Karin spoke very little for a while after that – or so I thought,

but by the time we’d finished our lunch at the Chinese restaurant not

only had she returned to her normal self, she was even more

boisterous than usual. If she was going to be like this, perhaps I

should have pinned her down with a more serious response.

From there, the three of us set a course for our new destination,

where I had some business: a throng of innumerable tiny shops nestled

beneath the overpass, selling all variety of magical items.

Collectively, they was known locally as the “Akihabara Department

Store”. If you asked any one of the multiplicity of eccentrics who

made their living here, they would tell you that in the past this

place dealt in parts of electrical appliances, and that its nickname

came from the jargon of that time.

Since coming into possession of a highly-versatile kind of magic in

their Command Seals, the people of this city had come to be connected

with magecraft, and had pooled their knowledge to build for

themselves a highly unique magical culture. From the perspective of a legitimate magus, the

amateurism on display here would probably be cause for loud and

derisive laughter, but both the Holy Grail and the municipal

administration AI permitted it. Perhaps the obsessive dispositions

that this place fostered resonated with them.

I too made frequent use of this place. For better or for worse, the

inexperienced and naïve teenager Utsumi Erice was still permitted to

bumble along in her role as Reaper, and no small percentage of that

time was spent in this witches’ den.

–

The surface floor of the Department Store was nothing more than shops

selling souvenirs for visitors - little talismans radiating

Akihabara’s trademark brand of sketchiness, curse-charms, room decorations to

satisfy anyone’s vanity. Hidden among this array of knick-knacks were

items that would exhibit genuine – albeit weak – effects, in

exchange for expending some of the owner’s Command Seal. They could

be thought of like little gates that gave the mana manifested by the

Command Seal shape and direction.

Pran and Karin were both looking around in amazement. Something

caught Karin’s eye and she stopped in her tracks.

“Hey, it’s that kinda creepy-cute doll. So this is where they sell

it! It’s pretty popular among the higher years at school.”

“Ugh, that thing’s gross… What is it? Is it supposed to absorb

your bad luck for you?”

“Apparently, if you keep it on your person, you can see your

Servant’s dreams. And different dolls show you different dreams.”

“Huh…”

It might as well have been snake oil, and an effect like that meant

nothing to me anyway. I could understand why Karin was talking about

it positively, but I still didn’t feel good about it.

“Hey, I’ll get you one if you want.”

“For me? I don’t need one.”

“Come on now, don’t be like that…”

In the end, the doll wound up being foisted onto Pran.

–

As we made our way deeper into the heart of the labyrinth that was

the Department Store, its atmosphere began to change, and the faces

of the people around us took on a much seedier bent. Perhaps the most

notable change was the gradual appearance of shops tended by Casters

– Heroic Spirits versed in magecraft. Their trade was in tools they

had crafted from scratch, or charms made by tinkering with or tuning

existing goods, and their prices were extremely steep.

The ichor that was healing my stomach wound at this very moment had

originated from one of these places. A few drops of this liquid,

sealed inside a small glass bottle the size of my little finger,

would cost a month’s living wage.

I’d better stock up on charms while I’m here. But that’s not the

real reason I’ve come to this place…

–

At a corner of a road deep in the Department Store’s heart, far from

the sight of any passers-by, Karin’s feet stopped abruptly as though

they had been glued to the ground. Next to her, the boy stopped too –

or rather, he struck his head on something sharply, and staggered

back.

“Ouch…”

“H-hold on a sec, Eri – I can’t get through.”

“There’s a wall here.” The boy spread his hands out in midair, as

though acting out a pantomime in the middle of the street. I could be

less sure what was happening to Karin, but for her part, she looked

as though she was experiencing some form of psychological resistance

to proceeding any further. In light of where we were, I could

immediately hazard a guess as what was happening.

A screen that impedes spiritual beings? I’d

never even realised that there was a mechanism like that installed

here. Apparently, neither fully-materialised Servants nor Servants in

spiritual form like Kouyou were exempt.

Kouyou materialised next to Karin, and thrust the tip of one wicked

claw into the invisible wall. Under the strain, an intricate,

glittering magical symbol flowered in midair like an inkblot. She

leaned in to deliver an accompanying headbutt, and the surrounding

walls and floor began to audibly creak. Even Pran lent his aid,

pushing valiantly against the back of her leg.

“Whoa whoa whoa – Kouyou!?” Faster than I could try to stop

her, a man in his late middle age appeared from the shadows of the

passageway. I’d seen him before. He was the doorkeeper for the shop I

was bound for, and it went without saying that he was well-versed in

magecraft.

“Hey there! Don’t break it.” He waved his arms wildly, in an

attempt to force Karin and Kouyou back some distance.

“You may pass. They may not. And they can’t hang around here,

either. Send them back where they came from.”

“They’re with me.”

He shook his head expressionlessly.

“Erm…”

“What, so one look at us and we’re out on our ears? You’re kidding

me, right? Hey, hold up a moment. Now that I get a good look at you,

you’re actually a pretty good-looking guy…”

“Karin, just leave it” I chastised her, as she veered wildly from

disagreement to flattery and back again. After giving it some careful

thought, we gave up on entering the shop and returned the way

we’d came.

–

Karin’s anger was roused, and she complained all the way back.

Although, as a Master, she probably would have been able to enter if

it had been her alone.

“What was that about, anyway? They were, like, super strict.

What kind of shop even is it?”

“It’s a relic shop. It specialises in curios, artefacts, items

plundered from tombs…that sort of thing.”

“Re-lics?”

“Whaddaya mean, relics?”

Karin and Pran interjected at about the same time.

“Uh… If I said “summoning catalysts” instead, does that make

more sense?” Karin shook her head. I supposed that it was only to

be expected that a next-generation human wouldn’t be familiar with

this sort of thing.

In short, this shop dealt in items that could be used as the basis

for a summoning ritual. It was managed by the two-man team of an

aging man who purchased its goods, and a Servant whose name had gone

down in pre-war history as a formidable salesman. I was well aware

that the wares it handled were the genuine article, but I hadn’t been

aware of its security system. It wasn’t the kind of place that

children usually wandered into in the first place.

Karin’s eyes began to sparkle as I talked. “So it’s like Aladdin’s

cave in there, right? Sounds like it’s full of the kind of things

explorers and archaeologists dream about!”

“Well, maybe. Or maybe it’s all a heap of useless junk. Depends on

who’s looking, I guess. It’s not like they make displays out of it or

anything. It’s nowhere near as exciting as going to a museum.”

That said, a magus devoted to necromancy or conjuration magic would

drool over some of the goods on display there. Those traps…those

little gremlins that that woman, Kundry set…if she used a catalyst

for them, it would have had to have come through that shop.

That was my reasoning, anyway, and today I’d come to investigate

directly. I was mulling it over, when Karin suddenly pointed out

something that I hadn’t even considered.

“Well, that’s a shame. Would’ve been nice if you’d been able to

have a look around in there with Pran.”

“…What?” For a moment I was taken aback. The idea hadn’t even

entered my head.

“That’s why we’re here, ain’t it, Eri? So you can show the kid all

kinds of relics? See if you get anything out of him.”

“…Y-yeah…” I gave an extremely vague nod. Karin peered into

my eyes, her expression taking on a slightly harder edge.

“Say, Eri…let me see if I can read your mind right now. “Oh, I

guess that’s a thing we can do”…right?”

“…Yeah, I guess it is.”

“Hey now.”

It was beyond unlikely that we’d just be allowed to freely examine

the most precious of their wares - but on the other hand, ultimately

they were businessmen. Without negotiating, there was no telling what

we could wrangle. And besides, if they really had handled a catalyst

that had ultimately been used to endanger the peace of the city, the

threat of reporting it to a municipal administration AI would have

been enough to make them tell me what I needed to know.

“You sure you’re all there today, Eri? Good grief. Weren’t you on

my ass just a little while ago about this not being a shopping trip?”

“…Allow me to apologise profusely.”

Karin announced that she would soon be returning home, so our party

accompanied her to the Akihabara stationfront to see her off. To be

honest, I was itching to see the back of her.

At this time in the afternoon, the stationfront plaza was bustling

with people of all shapes and sizes hurrying briskly across towards

their destinations. The scent of aromatic spices wafted from a food

truck, and gaggles of people gathered around street performers. The

boy seemed to be a little tired of walking, and I had no choice but

to lead him onwards by his small, dainty hand. How far away from him

should I stand? How tightly should I squeeze his hand? Right now, I

had no way of telling.

I’m a babysitter, aren’t I? No matter how you slice it. I

thought about how long I was going to spend looking after this child,

and instantly came over a little more sullen. He was no battle-scared

hero deserving of respect, nor was he some cold, calculating

maverick. If he had been an oddball like that, Karin would have had

no trouble handling him for me, and in time I would have started to

feel more comfortable as well.

But he was a child, and it was inevitable that we would end up

competing over looking after him. Although maybe that was just what I

was telling myself, while I secretly nursed my irritation and

jealousy.

“Tell me if you’ve got another job, alright? I’ll come as long as

it’s not during exams.”

“I keep telling you, no. I don’t care if you’ve got exams or not,

there’s no need.”

–

Video was playing at a noticeable volume on a gigantic screen mounted

on the wall of one of the stationfront buildings. I had initially

dismissed it as nothing but advertisements, but something about it

must have caught Karin’s attention, because she had abruptly started

to gaze at it intently. I watched in silence.

A violent clash between two Servants played out onscreen, edited

together at a fast pace from footage captured from multiple different

angles. A Noble Phantasm was unleashed, and immediately accompanied

by onscreen captions. The swirling gale that it left in its wake

encroached upon the spectator seats, and a barrier moved to intercept

it with seconds to spare. The crowd behind it erupted with cheers of

amazement, more fired up now than ever.

As the drone camera continued its flight, the full spectacle – a

battlefield upon which multiple Servants duelled – came into view.

The arena was meticulously modelled on the Colosseum of ancient Rome,

although it was built on a far grander scale than the existing ruins.

“Whoa! Hey, did you see that just now?”

“It’s not my thing.”

“Eh? Eri, don’t tell me you’ve never heard of the Grail

Tournament?”

Just the suggestion was enough to make me pout. “It’s some show

they put on at the Colosseum, right? It’s just not really something I

care about.”

Now the screen had changed to a promotional video for a new

tournament series. No small number of people in the plaza had stopped

in their tracks to look up at it.

“So you’re telling me you live in Akihabara, but you’ve never gone

to see the Grail Tournament? Not even once?”

“What’s wrong with that? It’s just play-fighting, anyway. It’s all

just for show.”

“Now hold up. I’m not sure I’m gonna take that lying do–

actually, just watch for a minute.”

“I’m telling you, it’s really not my thing.”

“Come on, you know you wanna!”

“H-hey, Karin, cut it ou-” Her hands gripped either side of my

head, and forced it to look up at the screen.

It was playing through the climactic stages of an old match. From

beneath the debris hurled high into the air by the merciless impact

of a Noble Phantasm, a lone figure streaked forwards, low-slung and

fierce. Judging by her impossible speed, she could only be a Servant

- a knight, clad in armour of deep indigo. She leaped to avoid an

arrow from the enemy that pursued her, and clung to the face of one

of the many stone pillars that lined the arena.

In an instant, another slash closed in on her. The pillar sailed through

the air, its base pulverised – but she was atop it now, and she was

still standing. The programme replayed her acrobatics once more in

slow motion for the viewers.

Her enemy’s power was spent, and in that moment she saw her opening.

A single bound was enough to close the distance. Her sword whipped

through the air, its thin blade shining with magical energy, and it

sang fiercely as she drove it through her foe’s chest.

It was a killing blow, with no trace of mercy.

With their spinal column precisely

shattered, her opponent was unable to maintain their physical form

and burst into tiny particles of light. Looks like they’re

done for. They won’t have gone back to the Throne, but that was

probably enough to leave a mark on their Saint Graph. Their Master

won’t have gotten off easy either.

Game Over. The name of the winners flashed dazzlingly onto the

screen. “Tournament victors – Servant: Galahad, Saber-class.

Master: Koharu F. Riedenflaus…”

Koharu…? Wait…Galahad!?

A mighty cheer arose from the spectator stands. In seconds, the arena

was blanketed in flower petals. An emblem, the symbol of the Holy

Grail enclosed by a laurel wreath, flashed up rotating onscreen, and

the programme cut to the post-match interview. Questions were being

posed to a stalwart-looking female knight – with lustrous azure

hair, and peppermint-green eyes.

“…Ah…” The penny finally dropped on what Karin had been

trying to say.

“That knight…she looks a lot like that girl from the Pre-War

Human History lecture…”

“Right? Right?”

She looked so much like her – like the girl in the hat. From her

tone of voice during her answers, to her courteous air. But her age

looked very different, at least externally, and her voice was a

little deeper. She was still young, certainly, but she had the

stature of someone in at least their late teens. There were probably

about ten years between them.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. I’ve been thinking all this time, I’m

sure I’ve seen her somewhere before…”

I couldn’t deny that my interest was a little piqued by the

unexpected connection. “Do you think they know each other?”

“Know each other? I’m telling you that’s her! Haruko’s probably

just a false name. She’s a super-famous athlete in the Grail

Tournament, right? She’s going in disguise!”

“What? But…” I failed to conceal my confusion, and received a

punch to the shoulder from an exasperated Karin for my trouble.

“Or are you gonna tell me that isn’t your thing either? Even my

little brother could have guessed that!”

“Give it a rest, will you? Why do I even have to care about these

things, anyway?”

“Well, I guess.”

–

Even so, I knew the basics. The Grail Tournament was, in short, a

sport – a game in which opposing fighters competed, safely and

legally, within the bounds of predetermined rules. The wielding of

powerful weapons, and even the unleashing of Noble Phantasms, was

monitored and controlled by the Holy Grail through its municipal

administrators. It was a world about as far removed as it was

possible to get from the shadows in which I crawled.

“Hang on, she said “Galahad”, right…? So one of the Knights

of the Round Table has been summoned? And they were here? In

Akihabara?”

I couldn’t believe it. It couldn’t be real. Galahad, the Knight of

the Grail. Son of Lancelot, the Knight of the Lake, and the noblest

holy knight to ever sit at King Arthur’s table. And…she was a

girl…? You can’t be serious…

Almost as shocking was that I had heard nothing of this from my

master. The Knights of the Round Table possessed powerful magic, and

a strong connection to the Grail; they could potentially affect the

city’s functions. The Knight of the Grail, all the more so.

“Someone from outside of Akiba, I guess. There’s no end to the

people coming in from other districts with their sights on the Grail

Tournament.”

“It gets crazy dangerous around the Colosseum every season, thanks

to the fans making a spectacle of themselves. It’s no end of trouble

for me.”

“Oh? Sounds like a handful.”

“It’s just…it’s just a graveyard, that place. It’s a great big

graveyard.” Part of me had grown irritated with the know-it-all

expression plastered on Karin’s face and wanted to hurry up and

change the topic, so I’d started speaking more harshly than I meant

to. But at the same time, these were my true feelings.

“Grail Tournament? What a load of crap. It’s just a game, right?

It’s all just make-believe. I’ll never understand what enjoyment

people get out of turning Servants into an exhibition. Don’t the

fighters know they’re just being turned into commodities to bring

more spectators to the show? We twist the ideas they held dear and

lay them out for everyone to see, and we trivialise the skills they

spent their entire lifetimes perfecting – how can that be ok?

Servants aren’t meant to be our slaves!”

Karin stared back at me, not the least bit cowed, but I continued

with my tirade.

“Maybe the people in the stands feel like they’re fighting

alongside the competitors, but that only lasts until they get bored

and find something else. How are they supposed to understand how the

Servants in the arena feel from behind a safety barrier?” It was a

grotesque farce, that had propagated in order to make Heroic Spirits

mistake themselves.

Karin had waited carefully for me to finish my piece, but now she

spoke. Her voice was quiet, but laced with anger.

“How dare you make fun of something people are serious about.”

She grabbed me by my necktie and pulled me in. From up close, I could

see her eyes were blazing.

“Honestly, I’ve never even really paid much attention to the Grail

Tournament. But that attitude of yours is wrong, Eri.”

“Huh?”

“How sincere other people are isn’t something you get to decide.”

I immediately made to retort, but something about her gaze told me

that this wasn’t up for debate.

“You can call it an exhibition or a farce all you want, but the

people who’re in the arena, the people who’re actually there –

they’re putting everything they’ve got into making it entertaining

for us. Even the Servants – you think they get through to the final

rounds just by doing what they’re told? Of course not. What are you

trying to say, that nothing’s important unless people are dying? That

without the impact of kingdoms falling or ages ending, it’s all just

some kind of childish joke? That the kinds of jobs people wrote about

in that human history you love so much are the only ones worth

doing?”

“That’s not what I’m…”

“You seem to think old-fashioned ideas way outta the reach of the

common people are the only things worth caring about, Eri. And you

need to cut it out.”

“Well, you wouldn’t understand, would you, Karin? A…a next-gen

like you…”

She drew a sharp breath. Her eyes softened, and she bit her lip.

Finally, she gave a small sigh.

“I guess maybe I wouldn’t.”

I fell silent. I’d said something that I should never, ever say. My

anger died away, and bitter regret welled up in its place.

“…I’m sorry. That was too far.”

“It’s cool. Don’t force yourself. If that much was enough to earn

an apology, we’d never talk at all.”

This wasn’t her being humble. I was sure she was well aware how sharp

her own words had been.

Patience was far from Karin’s greatest virtue. Often her emotions

would flare, and we would fight.

–

But we would never, ever allow things to stay that way.

–

Karin gently took my right hand in her left, and squeezed it tightly

to her chest. Her right hand she opened, and extended towards me.

“Karin…”

Gingerly, I took the hand she offered me, and pressed it to the gap

between my breasts. From the places our bodies touched, I could feel

her heartbeat through her school blouse – and she could feel mine.

This was our little ritual. A humble promise known to us alone.

We leaned our faces in close, and whispered quietly.

“You know, we only fight because we don’t understand well enough

yet.”

“Understand each other, you mean? I don’t think we’ll ever manage

that as long as we live.”

“Well, what’s wrong with that?” She flashed a grin. “Damn. I’m

pretty sure I was still taller than you just a little while ago…”

“Only by a little, though.”

“Where do you get off, suddenly overtaking me?

“It’s 'cos I’m hitting my growth spurt.”

“Eh? So am I!”

This time, I was the one who smiled.

I was me. And Karin was Karin. Even without the next generation of

humanity, or the Holy Grail, or any of that, we understood that deep

down we were different people. It was inevitable that our different

viewpoints would come into conflict. But we were irreplaceable to

each other. If one of us ever lost the other, that would be the end.

Lost…?

Karin suddenly broke away and looked around us. Startled, I followed

her gaze.

“Hey, where’d the shrimp go?”

“E-eh!?”

In the midst of the hustle and bustle of the stationfront plaza, we

had lost sight of Pran. He had wandered off somewhere while our

attention had been occupied by the TV screen, and our argument

thereafter.

“Why can’t you just look up his tag, Eri?”

“Uh…truth be told, I haven’t actually attached it yet…”

“…You need to get that head of yours looked at.”

In the middle of our frantic back-and-forth, Karin’s attention was

suddenly diverted elsewhere. She was conversing wordlessly with a

Servant currently in spirit form – quite literal telepathy.

“…Damn. Momi’s saying she got so caught up in our argument, she

forgot to keep an eye on the shrimp.” Karin let out a rueful groan,

and she covered her forehead with her. Her Command Seals flared on

the back, and Kouyou came into view, her great head drooping

remorsefully.

“Hey, it’s not your fault,

alright? This is a bit

of a pickle, though…”

Safeguarding this Servant had been an assignment like any other, and

I should have treated it as such. But instead, I’d been looking down

on it as glorified babysitting - and now this. How irresponsible

could I be?

Karin, ever the optimist, grinned at me - “We’ll find him in a

flash, don’t you worry!” - and we split up to search.

–

Worry twisted in my guts, and my composure level was dropping rapidly – but for all that, finding the child didn’t even take ten minutes.

“So that’s

where he was? Good grief…”

In a corner of the plaza, a man in a Hawaiian shirt plucked lazily at

the strings of a guitar. A typical street musician, of the kind one

could find almost anywhere in Akihabara’s shopping district. Pran had

crouched himself down next to him, and was listening intently to his

performance. This concert, however, had an audience of one. All of

the other pedestrians hurried past, not one of them stopping. During

our child-hunt, we had paid most attention to flashier performers who

had drawn much larger crowds, and had overlooked this place.

A guitar case lay open at his feet

for people to toss coins into. A meagre collection of coins and notes

– physical money was considered minor currency in this town – was

visible inside, but I could hardly call it a good day’s takings.

Honestly, it might even just be money he’s put there

himself beforehand to prime the pump…

The guitar player was an unremarkable man, with an unshaven face

covered in dark stubble. He could not have been that old: late

twenties, perhaps, or early thirties. His weary appearance seemed

vaguely familiar to me - perhaps I myself had passed him by many

times in the past, although not once had I really looked at him.

His black hair was messy, and now

that I looked closer I could see that his eyes were blue. He had a

long nose, and features that seemed somehow Mediterranean. Is

he a Servant…? The possibility

came immediately to mind, but there was no-one nearby who looked

anything like a Master.

A cord connected his guitar to an amp speaker, which broadcast its

melody at a rather conservative volume for a street performer. My

knowledge of music was virtually nonexistent – but now that I was

stood before him, listening, even I could sense an astonishing

mastery in his playing. His melody was lonely, and passionate, and it

spoke directly to the heart.

Had that sound been what had drawn the boy here, to where he squatted

now beside him, enraptured? If so, could he perhaps be a Servant with

some connection to the arts? It merited consideration. Relics weren’t

the only things that might hold clues to his true name.

But alas, this performance was fatally ill-suited to the bright and

cheery resort atmosphere of Akihabara. It did not take much thinking

to understand why his guitar case was so empty. In the evening,

perhaps it would be different – but in this splendid sunlight,

beneath this clear blue sky, few tourists or townspeople would want

to indulge in this requiem he played.

“Damn, it’s like a funeral in here.” Harsh words in my ear, and a

hand clapped on my shoulder. The musician glanced up for a moment in

the middle of his performance, to look at Karin, who had rejoined us

and now stood at my side. He slowed his playing, and spoke.

“Are you two with the kid, by any chance? He’s been sittin’ here

watchin’ me for a while now, all on his lonesome. Thanks for yer

custom, by the way.” He flashed a grin, and Pran bowed in response.

He probably didn’t understand what was happening.

“That’s right. He’s with us. We took our eyes off him for a moment,

and he wandered off.”

He peered at me closely. “…Well, you sure ain’t his sister. And

it’s not like Servants just go and get themselves lost.”

“You think we’re up to something, old man? You don’t know how much

we’ve been running around looking for this kid.”

“Hey, could you cut it out with the “old man”? There’s a lotta

shady sorts around here. They’ll go out lookin’ for families,

'secure’ their lost kid, an’ then demand a reward.” He

wasn’t wrong. That was the reason we were more panicked than usual.

“So, what are we gonna do? Tell you what, why don'cha tell me this

kid’s name. And if you can’t, I’ll report you.” Command Seals

glowed on the back of his upraised right hand, in the distinctive

polka-dot pattern that indicated an ordinary citizen. His Master

status was given, not innate.

This is bad…We’d only just

decided on calling him “Pran”. The odds he would respond to it

were not encouraging. I was on the point of revealing some details of

our situation in an attempt to convince him – when suddenly he

raised his hands in mock surrender, and gave a derisive laugh.

“Gotcha, didn’t I? I just got a bit jealous watchin’ you two havin’

such a nice time out in the sunshine, so I thought I’d have a bit of

fun.”

“…You want me to knock you into next week?” Karin wheeled

around with a swish, and feigned the motion of driving home a reverse

roundhouse kick.

“Whoa, easy there! They say you should let sleeping JKs lie.”

“Good job I’m a JC then, huh?”

“Oh, you’re a next-gen? Yeah,

that’d explain it.” He plucked a battered box of cigarettes from

his pocket, but then glanced at Pran and put it back. This

plaza’s a no-smoking area, anyway.

He at least seemed like someone we could talk to.

“Um…this boy’s name is Pran.” I ventured. “It’s a bit

complicated, but-”

“Eh, don’t worry yourself about it.” His candid attitude was a

breath of relief.

“Well, you did watch him for us

while we were looking. I’m not sure it’s thanks enough, but if you

don’t mind…” I picked up a square plastic container from where it

lay inside the narrow guitar case on the ground, uncertain as to what

it was. He’s selling this, right? I think it’s some kind of

media…

“Oh, you’re buyin’? Sorry to ask this, but have ya got cash? The

purchase code should be on there.”

“Whoa, is that a CD? That’s hella neat!” Karin looked at the

object I held in my hands, and beamed. The man’s face lit up, and he

leaned forward. He was sat down with his arms and legs bent, so it

was a little hard to tell, but he was fairly tall.

“Oh? You know about these?”

“Course I do! We’ve got rental shops in Shibuya, right? It’s pretty

fashionable to walk around with an MP3 player nowadays. What are you

doing in front of a station with a bunch of street performers?

Wouldn’t you be better off going there instead?”

“Well, 'ppreciate the advice, but…I think Akiba’s more my speed.”

Hm? What’s that? Looks a bit like an anime girl… The

design on the T-shirt he was wearing beneath his Hawaiian shirt

suddenly caught my eye. Now that I thought about it, his guitar case

was also covered in similar-looking stickers, and I could see

something like a keyring dangling from it.

“Excuse me, but…you’re not an 'otaku’, are you?”

“Yeah, one of those” he nodded with a smirk.

–

“Otaku” was a term for a group

of people from the pre-war world, most notable for their unique brand

of thinking, creativity and consumerist culture. The influence this

exerted over their daily activities and lifestyles was far too great

to dismiss as a simple hobby. Their culture had spread far and wide,

and for a time they could be found all across the world world in

various guises, but as a faction they had held next to no political

power. Eventually they had fallen into decline, almost taking

pleasure in their irrelevance – my master’s words, mind you, not

mine.

My hypothesis was that perhaps, their culture had been somewhat akin

to a religion. And I understood that there was a time when Akihabara

had been regarded as one of their holiest sites. These days this town

was known for its beach resort and the bazaar of magical goods that

was the Department Store, but even now antique shops and hangout

spots stubbornly persisted to cater to these “otaku”.

–

“Name’s Kuchime.”, he said. “A plain ol’ guitar player, as you

can see. You girls come to Akiba often? If there’s any anime songs

you like, I’ll play 'em for ya.” And he strummed a bar or two of a

cheerful tune.

“…Wow!” Pran’s eyes sparkled at this new melody.

Karin, meanwhile, exploded with laughter. “Ahahaha! You really need

to get a cooler pick-up line.”

A “pick-up line”? Was that what this was?

The notion of a society of free love had been developed by the ancient peoples of Greece and Rome, and although it had been lost during the Dark Ages, it had been rediscovered

in recent times and was to some degree alive and well in this new

world. There were even those who warned that should we lose it, we

would cease to be human. To me, however, the idea was still an

unexplored continent that lay beyond my understanding, and something that could be even more dangerous than a Servant gone insane if one was not careful.

I had thought that Karin, as my peer, had more or less shared those

reservations - but today, she looked a little like she was on the

brink of becoming an explorer. Or was this perhaps the distinctive

urge to feign adulthood that came with puberty?

“Let me hear that last song one more time. It’s pretty. Does it

have lyrics?”

“That it does. I wrote 'em down on the booklet in the CD case.”

I handed her the slip of paper. She scanned it, and her face immediately creased in distaste. “……Damn. This is…dark. Like,

super depressing.”

Certainly, the lyrics on the page were far from lighthearted. It all

but invited criticism like Karin’s.

“Kuchime, do you do, uh…vocals? Do you sing as well?”

“Sure do. Or sometimes, anyway. Those lyrics are just a little

somethin’ I made up for the song. I’m an improviser at heart.”

“Improv, huh? That’s pretty cool. But…” Looking satisfied,

Karin made a proposal. “Can’t you play something more…you know.

Something to lighten the atmosphere? Something that’ll make me wanna

lose myself in the rhythm and dance? Oh, and no anisong. Something

you’ve made yourself.”

He ran his hand roughly through his

hair, and grinned. “Well, it ain’t exactly in-character for

me…but it’s my first request in a while. Let’s see what I can do.”

Kuchime’s melody echoed once more around the plaza. Before, it had

clung to the surface of the wintertime river like a fine mist, but

now, in answer to Karin’s request, it bounced hither and thither like

a tumbling ball.

–

With the change of melody, even our secluded corner of the plaza

suddenly felt as though it were bathed in sunlight. Passers-by halted

in their tracks, and a crowd slowly began to gather around us,

arranged in a half-circle with Karin and Pran in the front row.

Ugh… I’m not good with this kind of atmosphere. And

even if I was, I wouldn’t have the right to be here anyway.

Step by step I beat a tactical

retreat, drawing back to a place where I could watch them from a

distance. Music really is powerful, huh… It’s seized

these people’s hearts so easily, and changed the mood in this place

so quickly. Suddenly, I realised

that Kouyou had appeared by my side. Here, in this spot where we

wouldn’t bother anyone, she lay down with her belly to the ground,

listening quietly to Kuchime’s music.

Finally, Karin began to step in time with the twang of the guitar,

and was soon starring in her own street performance.

“Didn’t she say she needed to go home soon? Is she sure she should

be doing this?” I put the question to Kouyou, but she simply

rustled her head, and plucked at the air with a claw.

“Eh, you can play the guitar too? …Oh, the koto’s more your

forte. I see.”

–

Truth be told, I could not perfectly understand what Kouyou was

saying. It was was thanks to the Mystic Code app I had installed in

one of my forelocks that I could communicate with her on this level

at all. It guessed the general gist of what she was saying, based on

samples of previous conversations and interjections from Karin, and

showed me what it conjectured to be its broad meaning –

effectively, analysing and translating her body language in real

time. In Kouyou’s case, I was able to communicate with her clearly

and in person, so the translation accuracy was particularly high.

This was one of the problems that came part and parcel with

Berserkers, but Karin didn’t seem as though she minded it in the

slightest. She had told me in the past that, although she was her

Master, even she did not hear Kouyou’s thoughts as human speech;

rather, they came to her as wordless ideas.

Incidentally, this app did not work at all on Pran. It had only

returned the vaguest of suggestions, so in the end I had removed him

from the list of targets.

–

“Hmm. Is Karin good at dance classes at school or something? Now

that I think about it, I guess we do have those…

…Wow, there’s even more people coming.”

Slowly but surely, the plaza had filled up with people. The crowd

that had gathered stamped their feet to the rhythm of the guitar,

enraptured by the dance. In the centre of the ring, Karin surrendered

herself to the music, transforming pure joy and elation into balletic

motion – and her dancing drew forth new melodies from Kuchime’s

guitar, and mingled with his humming vocals like another instrument.

La-la, la, la-la - now she herself began to sing, wordlessly,

defiantly. It sounded like a challenge to Kuchime: I’m the one of

us who’s enjoying this moment to its fullest. Is that all you have?

I could never beat her. Really, I couldn’t. She

whirled alive and free, hair flying, sweat glistening on her skin,

and even I was transfixed. Kouyou gave a low growl.

“No, she’s not…she’s not getting picked up. She’s just messing

around…”

The Mystic Code app could read nothing more into the vacant look in

Kouyou’s eyes, but to me she looked troubled, and deeply sad. It was

only a guess – but she was the lead player in the legend of the

Ogress, the tragic heroine, the villain to be slain. Perhaps this

spectacle had stirred something within her.

But Karin danced, paying no heed to the mind of the crowd, the melody

of the guitar draped around her like a veil. Joyful, and carefree.

Her song echoed around the square, in answer to the humming of Kuchime’s vocals. The child stood enraptured, as though he were committing

every note to memory.

His gaze was fixed on Kuchime, who lowered his eyes away from the

crowd as he played, as though rejecting against the reality that he

was here in this place. Perhaps it was just a habit of his, but the

sight stayed with me.

That night, an unexpected visitor called on my apartment: Manazuru

Chitose, my grandmother.

–

It was the first time she had ever visited me here. When I saw her in

her black sailor uniform, looking up at me through the monitor of the

security camera installed on the outside street, I had rubbed my eyes

and then immediately suspected some kind of trap.

“I won’t be long. But there’s something that it’s important I tell

you, Erice.”

But it had been Manazuru Chitose, in the flesh. She was at ease as

she entered, paying no mind to the magical security measures I had

installed or the barriers I had erected to deter passers-by. Had she

had some instruction for me, a message or a word to Ms. Fujimura

would have been enough. The fact that she had come all the way here

in person set me on edge. And even if that weren’t the case, you

could hardly say the two of us have a good relationship.

It had to be something to do with the boy. I could think of nothing

else.

Pran had just finished his takeout dinner. I’d tried my hardest to

avoid any overly-exciting dishes. He sat on the floor, on the

opposite side of the room to the table across which Chitose and I

faced each other, playing precariously with some toys I had brought

out for him.

“My…so that aeroplane was in your apartment all along? It brings

back memories…”

“…Mm.”

This was a disaster. Her timing couldn’t have been worse – on

account of the aeroplane she was referring to being one of the very

few items I had brought with me from the house in Shinjuku. It was a

propeller plane, painted red and white: Caudron C.635 Simoun

“F-ANRY”. The plane beloved by Saint-Exupéry,

and a final memento from someone very dear to me.

“So? What do you want from me?” Bluntly, I broke the silence. I

already knew what she was going to say. I didn’t want to put it off

any longer.

–

“Say – it’s been a long time since you two last saw each other.

Why don’t you take this chance to have a bit of a catch-up?”

The interruption came from a man dressed in a double-breasted vest,

and a sharp necktie coloured a deep, sober red. He had removed his

suit jacket and held it folded in his arms. He had appeared

spontaneously from nowhere, but he was leaning against the wall a

short distance away as though he had always been there, watching us

calmly. Chitose shot him a reproachful sidelong glance.

“G-good evening, Lucius…Mr. Lucius, I mean.”

“Bonam Noctem, Erice. What an array of teaware you have

here. Would you mind if I brewed some? I feel a little parched.”

“I, um…no, I don’t mind. Some of it, uh…might be getting old,

though.” I had a feeling some of my tea had remained untouched ever

since the time I had first moved here, when I had excitedly bought it

in.

The man pulled various tins of tea leaves down from the shelf and

stared at them, comparing. Pran put down his model aeroplane,

tottered to his side and began imitating him in an attempt to help.

In the midst of his discussion with the boy, he turned back to me.

“Ah yes, that’s right. I would much prefer it if you would just

call me Lucius, as you used to. You need no formalities. Is it not

unfair, that only Chitose should address me that way?”

“A-alright.” I stammered. In stark contrast to my nervousness,

Chitose just expelled a tired sigh – and then drove her point home.

“Is it not ordinary for girls of a certain age to maintain a

respectful distance from fully-grown men? You should take care not to

become too familiar, or it may be thought unseemly.”

“Haha, you’re right at that. I’ll bear it in mind.”

Try as I might, I could not stop my attention from being drawn to the

crooked cross-shaped scar on his cheek. The suit was a new look for

him, but his smile was the same as it had always been.

–

Lucius: the Servant who had stood by Chitose’s side through many long

years. The person I respected above all others. The man I adored.

Much like Ms. Fujimura, he had known me since I was a baby. He had

taken the role of my teacher, and had strictly hammered into my weak,

infantile body the skills I needed to protect myself. With the

unbreakable iron conviction of a soldier, he had taught me to stand

back up whenever I fell, and to push onwards until my work was done.

He had taught me of the value of defeat, and the fickleness of

victory.

–

Chitose’s voice pulled me back to reality from idealised memory.

“When I said there was something I wanted to talk with you

about…” She placed the tip of one dainty finger on the rim of the

teacup. “I meant that I want you to refrain from your work for a

little while.”

“…Wh-…What?”

I blanched bone-white. This was absurd.

“…You can’t! I won’t!” I kicked the chair away and slammed my

fist on the table, staring Chitose down.

“What right do you have to…to…!”

She sipped her tea in silence, her facial expression deliberately a

little hurt. “I’ve already discussed it with Caren.”

She said it as though it was nothing, but that was the final nail in

the coffin. This was not a decision that could be overturned. My

grandmother was prone to jokes, but not to deception. In Mosaic City,

her final word was equal to the judgement of the Grail.

But even understanding that, my anger would not be quelled. She would

steal my work from me? Then for what did I leave that house? For what

had I become reviled as the Reaper, as I cut down Servant after

Servant!?

My shoulders heaved with ragged breaths. I somehow calmed myself.

“What do you mean, “For a while”…?” I asked.

“I mean two months at the least. There is something I need to

investigate first.”

“And my work will get in your way, will it?”

She nodded wordlessly. I turned my gaze to Lucius next to her, as

though pleading for help – but all he did was furrow his eyebrows a

little, and return a pained smile. A warning, that there was no

meaning in further pressing Chitose for her reasons.

–

After that, Chitose asked me a number of things about Pran, but my

head was in a daze, and I cannot recall what I answered. Her

questions seemed innocuous, but that only served to highlight the

absurdity of her taking such an interest in this single meaningless

Servant. It had all simply been my misunderstanding. This child who

had appeared before me was nothing unusual or special.

After they departed, I was left staring at the teacups that remained

on the table. I knew that if I wasn’t connected to Chitose by blood,

I wouldn’t be so irate. I would be burning with the desire to break

free of these shackles that had been placed on me.

But that was beyond me. Beyond me, who had chosen to run instead of

fight.

It had been a busy day. A day of fortunate and unfortunate meetings.

But even so, it had ended without having to end a Servant’s life.

So today had been a good day.

–

I had bathed, and I had tended to my wound. My body still itched for

the ached and pains of my daily training, but that would have been

irresponsible when I was still barely out of my sickbed. I would

stretch for a short while, and then I would go to sleep. I flung

myself onto the bed of my darkened room, too exhausted to even turn

on the light.

“Hey. Could you perhaps open this?” The small figure of the boy

stood in front of the curtain, illuminated a little by the faint

light filtering through.

“You sure talk funny… Um, do you want to see what it looks like

outside?”

I roused myself sluggishly, and opened the window lock at the bottom

of the leg of the bed. The window was elevated a little from the

floor, and on the other side was a small veranda with a rickety

handrail. There was nothing to see outside but the back alleys of

abandoned buildings.

In the darkness, the boy let out a small sigh. But he remained

squatting by the window, winding himself into the curtain, his golden scarf

floating in the night breeze.

“The moon’s covered by clouds, so you can’t even see the beach.

Actually, before that - just make sure you don’t fall, alright?”

“I won’t fall.”

“Ok.”

–

I staggered back to bed, and soon I was sound asleep. I’d avoided

mentioning it to Karin, but last night, the boy and I had ended up

sleeping in the same bed. I had been loathe to drag the folding bed I

kept for these occasions from the storage room, and it was covered in

dust and not immediately usable. And in any case, the bed this room

had come with was king-size, and too wide for a single person.

But no matter how large my bed was, no matter how soft or warm -

I would always be denied a tranquil sleep on days when I had struck

down Heroic Spirits. Their maledictions continued to ring in my ears,

raging at the untimely dissolution I had forced upon them.

“Ah…oh no. They’re coming…”

The evil spirits writhed beneath my skin, clamouring with impatience.

If I didn’t wrap myself with bandages, my bedroom would end up awash

with blood again.

–

These evil spirits had tormented me ever since I had first drawn

breath, and it had not been Chitose or Lucius who had told me how to

parley with them, but Caren. My master. She had taught me – to seek

to compromise with them, rather than see them as a problem to be

solved. To come to the realisation that no-one could save me from

this. To see that this was not a senseless agony that had been

imposed upon me, but rather that I had been granted the wisdom of

truly knowing the suffering of others. Forgive them their crimes, and

accept them into your heart, she had said.

Did I suffer this curse because I lacked a Holy Grail? Or did I lack

a Holy Grail because of this curse? It doesn’t even matter, not

really. But I want to know – why only me?

These were questions for my parents, but they were no longer in this

world. All I had left was endless repetition, asking and answering my

own questions thousands upon thousands of times.

If I didn’t start thinking more constructively, I would end up unable

to move forwards. So I might as well think about what business

Chitose had coming here.

–

Chitose was a recluse to the core, and rarely left her house, let

alone the Shinjuku district. The fact that she had come to Akihabara

alone was proof of the sheer abnormality of whatever was happening.

She had not just come for a friendly talk with my master. Her

attention was fixated on the Akihabara district as a whole, and the

need had arisen to crack the whip over Ms. Fujimura directly.

Caren Fujimura might currently be the administrator of Akihabara, but

in the time immediately after the reshaping of the world, her

jurisdiction had been Shinjuku. Afterwards, she had relinquished her

administrator privileges to the lower-ranked members of the Caren

Series, and moved her base of operations of Akihabara. It was she, my

master, who held the highest rank among the Caren Series of municipal

administration AIs. The other Carens were copies, each with their own

unique orientation. Perhaps that was why their personalities all

slightly differed.

Well, 'slightly differed’ doesn’t really describe it…they’re

like completely different people. Although I’m not really convinced

what the advantage is to that.

It would be a mistake to expect compassion and understanding from

Manazuru Chitose. I was under no illusions about that. I had had

absolutely no intention of staying that house in Shinjuku to become a

magus - no matter how much I might be imitating one in my life here.

Through my work, I had learned that the people known as “magi”

were incorrigibly self-centred creatures. More than a few lurked in

the shadows of this town, attempting to meddle with the Grail in some

nefarious way or other. I had clashed many times with their Servants,

and seen first-hand the callousness with which they handled them.

Perhaps there’s something afoot in the shadows of this town…and

she’s concerned for my safety? Although even that concern would

be the self-centred sort, that was ultimately only for her own

interests.

I had little idea what Chitose’s

goals might be, but perhaps by separating me from Caren, she was

hoping to lessen the burden on the municipal administration AI. Even

with more copies, she was struggling to keep up, and this city was

beginning to groan under its own weight. A symphony of contradictions

and hypocrisies. And if that was the case…

–

…Then more must die. More, and yet

more evil Servants must die by my hand.

–

A whisper slipped unbidden from my

lips. “So the war…isn’t over yet…”

I unconsciously clapped a hand over my mouth. That was a dangerous

thing to think. If I was not more careful, I would be removed by the

Holy Grail.

No matter how much I worried over my many questions, no answer would

be forthcoming. In an attempt to distract myself, I reached for an

object made of glass and leather on my bedside table, and held it in

my hands. It was one of the items I had brought with me from my old

house, along with the model aeroplane from before: an antique-looking

pair of aviator goggles. Although they were actually intended for

motorcycle use.

A sudden tiny cry startled me. Looking frantically to the window, I

saw the boy leaning out, about to fall. I hurriedly scrabbled to him

and pulled him back, holding him close.

“Damn it, I told you this would happen!”

“The sky. I can’t see it.”

So he’d been trying to catch a glimpse of the sky. We could go up to

the roof, but it wouldn’t make much difference. It was saturated with

light pollution.

I was very aware that he was a strong-willed child, and there was no

telling what he might get up to if I left him alone. Left with little

choice, I lifted him up onto my lap, and sat facing backwards on the

veranda. With the metal latch of the curtain as a handhold, I leaned

precariously out into the night.

“Maybe you can just about see it from here. What do you think?”

Above our heads, framed by high-rise buildings, we could see a tiny

patch of night sky. As I’d expected, it was a bleary, leaden shade of

grey. The child clung to me as he craned his neck to look.

“…”

“…That’s how it is.”

As a Servant, he was powerless. He didn’t even know his own name.

There was no telling when he might become my next assignment. And if

he did, I would kill him.

…Ah…

A single tear trickled down his cheek. He said nothing, but his body

was trembling.

“I won’t leave your side. At least, not until I know who you are.”

Inconceivable words, coming from my mouth. I knew they were nothing

but cheap lies, but now that I could feel the faint warmth of his

body, I could no longer think clearly. He had said there was

something he had forgotten - “Not until we find it”, I told

myself vaguely.

But the child shook his head firmly. “We can’t stay together.”

“…I know. You’re right, I know.”

Was it his solitude, that his tears were for? The uncertainty of

being under a starless sky?

If only we could have seen the lights of an aeroplane as we looked up

at the darkness. If only we could have followed that trail, a trail

carved by a man, across the nighttime sky. But there were no

aeroplanes to be found anywhere in this new world. Such was the

future that the Holy Grail had made.

That night, we went to sleep as two strangers in the same bed. I left

the doll from lunchtime next to my pillow.

I did not dream.