Chapter 34

At the Academy, all eyes were on Shirō and Rin the moment they stepped through the gates. Whispers followed them like shadows. Some stared in awe, others in fear, but most just gawked. Rin had to smack more than a few heads to get them to focus. Her smacks came in carefully measured doses, just enough to sting, never enough to kill. Mostly.

Of course, it didn’t help that Shirō was basically a walking, talking magical nuke. Everyone knew the stories. The one who crushed the Holy Grail War with a rain of Excaliburs. The one who made Gilgamesh retreat. The girl who could erase you from existence with a casual flick of the wrist. And yet… she smiled like an idiot, offered to carry books for strangers, helped first-years with their enchantment homework, and once fixed a vending machine with magecraft because it ate someone’s change.

It was that kindness that made everyone a little too comfortable.

Too many upperclassmen started asking Shirō for help with “just a little training.” Too many clueless flirters tried their luck. Too many tried to get close. Rin wasn’t having any of it.

She made it her mission to personally explain, in detailed, vivid, borderline illegal terms, what would happen if anyone dared take advantage of Shirō’s kindness. Some called it a threat. Rin called it a clarification.

And while Shirō was still undeniably the strongest creature on the planet, not a single person dared to spar with her. Not because of what she might do, but because of what she might accidentally do. Nobody wanted to end up buried under a mountain of mana-enhanced swords or become the subject of the next Clock Tower safety regulation.

Even so, life at the Academy had never been livelier.

qoOop

It was colder than it looked, the wind pressing sharp and clean through the open green of the hills. The ruins of the once great castle stood like tired sentinels, carved from age and battered by rain, wind, and time. Tourists littered the place, snapping pictures, reading plaques, laughing, snacking, posing beside reconstructed stone thrones, but none of them really felt it.

None of them really understood what lay beneath their feet.

Rin walked a few steps ahead, arms crossed, a scarf wrapped snug around her neck. “This is the place. Camelot. What’s left of it.”

Shirō followed, quiet. She looked like a normal girl in a hoodie and jeans, but her presence didn’t lie. Magic pulsed faintly around her like a heartbeat, resonating in strange, old ways. Behind her, Archer walked calmly, hands in his pockets. And trailing a bit farther, red-faced and absolutely mortified, Sakura shuffled along, still in her ridiculous cat maid outfit, thanks to Rin’s very creative punishment system.

Tourists stared. Some whispered. Cameras clicked. Sakura tried to vanish into her sleeves, but the cat ears refused to disappear with her.

“Rin,” Shirō finally said, slowing as they approached a small stone memorial fenced off near the edge of the ruins. “This place... it’s loud.”

Rin glanced back. “Loud?”

“I mean... not sound. But the mana. The land. The air. It’s like it’s crying.”

Archer looked toward the hillcrest. “Residual traces. It’s not just ancient. It’s legendary. The stories... they’re heavier here.”

They stopped at the grave. A simple stone, with words worn nearly smooth from the wind. It had no royal seal, no fanfare, just a name etched faintly.

Artoria Pendragon. King of Knights.

Shirō slowly knelt and touched the edge of the stone. Her fingers trembled, just slightly.

“She was...” Rin began, then stopped, uncertain. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You already feel it, don’t you?”

“This body. It’s hers.”

“It’s yours now,” Rin said quickly. “But yeah. Technically... you’re inhabiting what was left of her spirit origin.”

“I can’t tell where she ends and I begin sometimes,” Shirō murmured. “The weight... it's not mine. It’s hers. The regrets. The decisions. The endless war.”

“Artoria never wanted to be king,” Archer said softly, stepping up beside them. “She was chosen. Or maybe... she chose herself because no one else could. But she gave up everything for it. Her name. Her face. Her happiness.”

“She wanted to become a perfect king,” Rin added. “Flawless. Incorruptible. But people don’t want a perfect king. They want someone they can blame when everything falls apart.”

Shirō looked up. “She pulled Caliburn from the stone, right?”

“Yeah. She was just a girl. But she wasn’t allowed to be just a girl anymore,” Rin said. “They trained her like a weapon. Called her a symbol. Her heart... it never had a place in that kingdom.”

Sakura, awkwardly silent, finally whispered, “But didn’t she win? She saved Britain.”

Archer shook his head. “She preserved it. Held it together by sheer will. But it was never a true victory. Camelot collapsed. The knights turned on each other. She saw herself as a failure.”

“And the Grail,” Rin said, voice tight. “She believed if she could reach it, she could undo it all. Choose someone else. Let someone else live in her place.”

Shirō's hand curled into a fist over the grave. “So... she wanted to erase herself.”

“She thought that was justice,” Archer said.

Shirō exhaled slowly. “I get it. That feeling. That desire to take it all on, alone. To burn away everything ugly by becoming something pure. I get that too well.”

“You nearly destroyed the world,” Rin muttered.

Shirō grinned faintly. “Yeah, well. Only once.”

They fell into silence for a moment, the wind whispering through the grass. A group of tourists walked by and paused to stare—then noticed Rin’s glare and hurried along.

“You think she’d hate me?” Shirō asked suddenly, eyes on the stone.

Archer frowned. “What?”

“She gave everything to protect people. But now I’ve got her body and... I eat too much, wear hoodies, sleep in until noon, and casually decimate buildings when I sneeze. It feels wrong.”

“She’d probably hate how much you talk with your mouth full,” Rin said dryly. “But no. I think... she’d be relieved.”

“Relieved?”

“Because you’re living,” Rin said. “That’s the one thing she never allowed herself to do.”

“Artoria was raised to serve,” Archer added. “You? You chose to help. You can stop. You can say no. She never had that luxury.”

“I still want to be a Hero of Justice,” Shirō whispered. “But... not by killing everyone who fails to live up to the ideal.”

Rin smiled faintly. “Progress.”

Shirō leaned closer and whispered to the stone, “You did more than enough. It’s okay now.”

The air shimmered faintly. For a second, it felt like something warm brushed past them, a soft breeze that carried no chill. Sakura blinked, clutching her sleeves tighter.

“What was that?”

“Maybe,” Archer said, voice low, “she heard you.”

They stood a little longer, the wind brushing over the grave, and then Rin clapped her hands together with finality. “Alright, we’ve mourned the past, we’ve philosophized, and Sakura’s about to pass out from embarrassment. Let’s go get lunch.”

Sakura squeaked. “C-Can I change first?!”

“Nope,” Rin said cheerfully. “You’re an inspiration to tourists.”

Shirō stood, brushing off her jeans. She looked back at the grave one more time and nodded, just once.

The King of Knights had rested long enough. Now, the strange girl who inherited her strength and burdens would carry them forward, with a lot of snacking and maybe a few explosions along the way.

After all, she wasn’t a servant. She wasn’t a king. She was Shirō Emiya.

And she would choose her own justice.

qoOop

Under the shade of a gnarled old tree on the edge of the ruins, the group had settled for a break; if one could call it that. Rin sat smugly on a blanket, sipping tea from a thermos like royalty reborn. Archer leaned lazily against the trunk, arms folded, eyes half-lidded with a bored expression that failed to hide his amusement.

And then there was poor Sakura.

Still in the frilly, ribbon-laced black-and-white cat maid outfit, complete with twitchy faux tail and oversized ears, she knelt on the grass, trying to balance a silver tray with dainty pastries, matcha, and bottled water. Her arms trembled slightly—not from fatigue, but sheer mortification.

"Here y-you go, Rin-senpai... um, p-please enjoy these humble snacks... nya~..." she mumbled.

Rin beamed, holding up a little camera and clicking a picture without shame. “Perfect. That hesitation in your voice? Really sells the whole ‘tragic magical cat servant’ vibe. You’re getting good at this.”

“I-I want to die,” Sakura whimpered.

“That’s not allowed,” Rin said brightly, taking a bite of a dainty biscuit. “We’re in Britain. Public embarrassment is part of the cultural experience.”

Shirō sighed and took the water bottle from the tray, unscrewing it with one hand while giving Rin a firm side-eye. “You’ve tortured her enough, don’t you think?”

Rin didn’t even blink. “Every time you play Devil’s Advocate, the punishment extends by another hour.”

“I wasn’t—!”

“See? That was another hour.”

“Rin!”

Just then, a group of middle-aged tourists wandered by—two women and a man, armed with phones and confused frowns. They slowed when they caught sight of Sakura.

“Oh my, is that girl alright?” one of the women asked, blinking. “Why is she dressed like that?”

Rin immediately leaned forward, grinning like the devil herself. “Oh, she’s part of a cultural exchange program. Go on, Sakura, tell them your line.”

Sakura turned a shade of red that would make tomatoes envious. She looked at Shirō, silently pleading for help. But Shirō was busy pinching the bridge of her nose.

“N-nyh!” Sakura began, barely audible. “I, um, I am a cat girl! I eat raw fish!”

The tourists stared.

There was a horrible silence.

Then one of the women took a cautious step back, clearly unsure if this was performance art, a prank show, or something deeply troubling. “O…kay. Uh, thank you for the explanation. Let’s go, dear.”

They quickly turned and walked away, muttering something about “weird anime kids.”

As soon as they were gone, Sakura collapsed to her knees, tray falling to the grass. “I want the earth to swallow me whole.”

Archer raised an eyebrow. “She didn’t even mention the part about ‘napping in sunbeams’ this time.”

“I spared her that today,” Rin said with mock generosity. “It is overcast.”

Shirō leaned forward, patting Sakura’s head gently. “You’re doing great, Sakura. Very brave.”

“She encouraged them,” Sakura mumbled. “She smiled at them while I said that…”

“Shouldn’t have tried to prank me with glitter shampoo last week,” Rin said sweetly. “Actions have consequences.”

“I thought it would make your hair shimmer…”

“It made me look like a disco ball. I had to exorcise my own bangs.”

“You’ve made your point!” Shirō said, her voice rising slightly. “Come on. Let her change already.”

Rin gave a noncommittal shrug. “Maybe after we visit King Arthur’s Round Table exhibit.”

“Noooo...” Sakura whispered into the dirt.

“You’re actually being evil,” Shirō muttered.

“You’re welcome,” Rin chirped.

Archer looked up at the sky. “You know, the Grail War was less emotionally scarring than this.”

“Don’t tempt her,” Shirō warned.

But Rin was already pulling out her phone to take another photo. “Sakura, hold up the tray again. With more shame in your eyes this time.”

“Noooo…”

And the day continued, under the shade of history and the weight of supreme magical embarrassment.

qoOop

It was supposed to be just another quiet moment under the tree, if “quiet” meant Sakura nervously balancing a tray of tea and snacks in a cat maid outfit while Rin and Shirō lounged in the shade like royalty. A light breeze passed through the old remnants of the once-great Camelot, rustling leaves and the occasional souvenir wrapper left behind by tourists. Archer stood nearby, arms crossed as usual, ever-watchful, ever-stoic… or so he hoped.

Rin had been observing him for the past twenty minutes.

Not in the casual, friendly sort of way either.

No, this was the hawk-eyed scrutiny of someone who had just put all the pieces of a very juicy puzzle together.

She narrowed her eyes, watching how Archer would glance at Shirō when he thought no one was watching. How his otherwise neutral expression softened just a hair when Shirō laughed, even while sipping tea. Or how the slightest twitch of concern flickered across his face every time Shirō looked even remotely distracted, like she was about to cause a magical accident with her tea set.

It was all too obvious now.

Rin couldn’t take it anymore.

“Oh my god,” she muttered, standing and planting her hands on her hips.

Shirō looked up, curious. “Hm? What’s up?”

Archer raised a brow. “What is it now?”

“You,” Rin said, pointing a finger directly at Archer like she was accusing him of tax fraud. “You’ve got a crush on Shirō.”

Dead silence. Like Camelot itself stopped breathing.

Shirō blinked. “Wait, what?”

Archer stiffened. “What?! No—!”

There was a loud clang as the tray slipped from Sakura’s hands and crashed onto the grass. Plates clattered, tea splashed, and her entire soul seemed to leave her body.

Shirō looked between Rin and Archer, blinking, confused, then... something almost imperceptible passed across her face. A slight downturn of the lips. A brief furrow of the brow. She looked disappointed.

It was subtle, but Archer caught it—and panicked.

“I mean, uh,” he fumbled, clearing his throat. “That’s not what I— It’s not like I—I mean, I respect her, yes, of course. She’s… you know… she’s strong. Dedicated. Dumb sometimes, but… charming? In a destructive, eat-all-my-food-and-level-buildings kind of way…”

Shirō raised an eyebrow. “Wow. Thanks?”

Archer was already sweating. “No, I mean that in a good way. Not—! Look, this is ridiculous, Rin!”

“Oh no,” Rin grinned like a fox who just discovered where the chickens slept. “This is exactly what I thought it was. You trained her, right? Taught her magic, gave her swords, probably yelled at her every time she overused her mana—”

“Don’t forget the emotional monologues!” Shirō added helpfully, holding up a finger.

Archer looked like he was about to implode.

“And of course,” Rin said sweetly, “she called you senpai, didn’t she?”

Both Archer and Shirō choked simultaneously.

“I never—!” Shirō began, but her voice faltered.

“You totally did,” Rin cackled, already pulling out her phone. “Oh my god. I’m sending this to Illya. She’ll scream.”

“Rin—!” Archer hissed, his composure breaking as he lunged forward, but Rin expertly danced out of reach, waving the phone high above her head.

“Smile for the camera, lovebirds!”

“RIN!!” Shirō and Archer both yelled in unison.

Sakura, meanwhile, had dropped to her knees beside the spilled tea set, hands over her face in secondhand embarrassment. “Please… end me…”

“Okay, okay,” Rin giggled, finally lowering her phone. “I’ll stop. But seriously, you two. Just admit it.”

Shirō looked at Archer. Archer looked at Shirō.

Both of them turned red. It was like watching two microwaves overheating at the same time.

“I don’t know,” Shirō mumbled, scratching her cheek. “Maybe it’s just that… we’ve been through a lot. And he knows how I think. Sometimes I don’t even have to say anything, and he gets it. I mean, he is me… sort of… but not really? He’s more of a sarcastic older version who thinks my decisions are dumb but still backs me up anyway.”

Archer blinked. “That was… oddly accurate.”

“And I guess,” Shirō added, more quietly, “it’s nice. Having someone who’s seen the worst of you and still sticks around. Who says you’re dumb and reckless but doesn’t leave.”

Archer looked away, ears pink. “Well… I did say I’d watch over you. And I wasn’t lying.”

Rin raised her hands. “Awwww. That’s actually kind of sweet.”

“Shut up,” Archer muttered, embarrassed.

“I’m still recording.”

“RIN.”

Sakura peeked from behind the tree where she had taken cover. “So… are they dating now? Or…?”

“I think we skipped like, six steps,” Shirō said, crossing her arms. “Do we date first? Is this dating? I mean, he did teach me how to dual-wield swords and yell at the moon.”

“It’s not dating unless there’s ice cream involved,” Rin declared.

“Please don’t give them ideas,” Archer said, rubbing his face.

“I like ice cream,” Shirō offered, trying not to smirk.

“Stop encouraging her!”

But by now, Rin had collapsed into the grass, laughing.

“God,” she said, wiping a tear from her eye. “This is better than any Clock Tower drama. You two are adorable.”

“We’re not—” Archer started.

“Fine,” Shirō interrupted, brushing dirt from her jeans. “We’re not dating. Yet.”

Archer nearly tripped over his own boots.

“Y-Yet?!”

Rin looked like she’d been given a front-row ticket to a circus she didn’t even know she wanted to see.

“I’m not saying no,” Shirō shrugged. “I mean… you’re not a bad option.”

“I trained you to wield swords, not flirt!”

“Yeah, but you didn’t say I couldn’t pick up new skills.”

Rin groaned. “Please, you two. At least pretend to have shame.”

Sakura let out a tiny, hopeful giggle. “Does this mean I don’t have to wear the maid outfit anymore?”

Rin stood up and dusted off her skirt. “Oh no. You’re still in punishment mode. But maybe I’ll let you pick a different animal theme.”

Sakura’s face crumbled. “Nooo…”

Shirō smiled as she picked up one of the dropped cupcakes, brushing off a leaf. “You know, for a moment, I really thought this trip would be boring.”

“Yeah,” Archer sighed, standing beside her. “I should’ve known better.”

They shared a look. Not quite a confession. Not quite denial. Something warm, awkward, and oddly perfect in its ambiguity. The kind of moment only two emotionally stunted sword nerds could appreciate.

Under the ancient tree in the shadows of Camelot, surrounded by the ghosts of knights and too many tourist cameras, they stood like idiots pretending they weren’t slowly becoming something more.

Rin stood beside them, watching with a knowing smirk. “God help the world if you two ever have kids.”

Archer turned crimson. “RIN!”

Shirō blinked. “Wait, that’s a thing we could do?”

“NO, IT’S NOT—”

Laughter echoed through the ruins as the sun dipped behind the stone towers, bathing the scene in gold and mischief.

And somewhere, in the breeze that rustled the trees, it almost sounded like someone was laughing with them. Maybe Artoria. Maybe just the wind. Either way, the day ended not in drama or tragedy, but with a ridiculous kind of joy only found when fate, friendship, and embarrassment collide under an ancient sky.

Only one more chapter left.