Unlimited Souls Works Chapter 0 (Oneshot?) (Patreon)

Beta read by Shigiya and FabledLife So... This is the surprise I wanted to show y'all during my birthday... Surprise!Before I say anything, NO, I am not starting a new series. This story was mostly written in my spare time (Yes, I surprisingly have some) and as a way to get some new ideas for my existing stories. Writing something different does help to avoid writer's block. Aside from this story, I had several other ideas. There was a Taimanin x fate one, Snafu x Highschool of the elite, Code Geass one and so on. I just chose bleach cause I just happened to watch the anime and it inspired me. So yeah, I'm not sure if there will be more chapters. Just wrote it cause I wanted to. If y'all are interested, I can write another chapter or another oneshot of the other stories ideas above. We'll see. I'll probably have a poll or ask the people on discord or just do both. Like seriously, I can't make regular updates of another story, I physically can't... Yet. I still strive to become on the same level as Neonzangetsu one day. So, hope you enjoy it!...-Chaldea-"Order up, number seventy-four!"  A rough, barking voice cut through the chaos in the dining hall, loud enough to scrape against the cacophony of pots clattering and pans slamming in the kitchen. The fumes of braised beef hung thick in the air, swirling together with the sharp, heady reek of herbs and the biting sweetness of freshly diced onions. Baskets buried in oil spat and hissed with wrath, as if each fry was a tiny beast struggling in a miniature volcano, while the rhythm of blades chopping through produce kept pace with the din. The glut of food streaming across counters, piling on stovetops, looked fit to sate a battalion, if not a city’s festival. In truth, it may as well have been. To cram a whole legion of Heroic Spirits full to bursting was a task best suited for an army in itself, given the motley crowd here; monsters, divine entities, and gluttonous kings with bottomless stomachs and all demanding...A normal chef would have long since broken down under the overwhelming pressure, lost to the endless tide of orders. But for one particular Archer Servant, it was a welcome distraction, a hobby, or just a new job where his hands worked when idle and his mind could briefly rest from the constant struggle of missions.  "Here’s another batch of burgers," came a cheerful voice, accompanied by the sound of a heavy tray being set down in front of him. "Three well-done, three medium-rare, and one vegetarian. Exactly how they asked."  He glanced at the tray and gave an impressed look. "All that in only five minutes? You’ve outdone yourself, Boudica."  The former queen, red hair pulled back into a practical ponytail, brushed a damp strand from her cheek. She wore no regal attire now, only a shirt and plain trousers, the former sticking slightly to her skin where a splash of water had hit her earlier. Despite her modest look, the pride in her expression carried the dignity of a monarch.  "Hehe, it isn’t that impressive," she replied, adjusting the tray with a small smile. "Good time management, proper preparation, and enough practice make it possible. Also, Tamamo helped me prepare the ingredients, saving quite a bit of time."  Emiya allowed himself a smirk. "And here I thought Raikou was the fastest in the kitchen. Better watch out, she might lose her title at this rate."  The queen’s eyes brightened at his jab, her grin widening. "You think I’m aiming for her? Just you wait. And Emiya—" she pointed toward him with mock seriousness, "—I’m coming for you too, along with that title of Chaldea’s mother!"  His brow twitched at the words. That title again. A name tossed around the halls far too often lately, pinned onto him without his consent. Why it had been “mother” instead of the more sensible “father” remained an unanswered mystery, and the one who had first whispered it into the crowd was another puzzle he had yet to solve. He was betting that a certain red-haired master was the culprit, but lacked proof at the moment. No matter how often he tried to stamp out that ridiculous title, the label clung stubbornly like a rash. Despite Boudica fitting that role far more than anyone, given how she kept treating everyone like her kids! He had long since given up correcting people, instead choosing to ignore them while focusing on his task.  “W-Where are your clothes!?” A commotion came from the other side of the kitchen, where he was sure to be heading, a startled Hans. He did not even have to guess much to know what happened, given that he heard Tamamo’s voice as well as her serving another order. Boudica, also coming to the same realization, just shook her head. “She accidentally ripped her apron away again, didn't she?” “Yes.”“Can you make something more sturdy?” “I believe it is in our best interest to teach her to put on more clothes rather than just an apron and panties.”She nodded, “You do it, she never listens to me.” Of course, the girl never listened, “You are too nice to her… and everyone else, for that matter. I've rarely seen you scold her despite her deserving it on numerous occasions. Even if you do scold someone, the next minute you treat them with dessert to make them feel better because you feel bad for scolding them. Aren't you supposed to be a queen? Pretty sure you had to have a firm hand to rule a kingdom.” “Now you're the one giving me a lecture and then wonder why you got that title.”That stunned the Heroic Spirit, who felt like he was treated unjustly here, “A-Am I not even allowed to give some advice anymore?” His reaction made the woman chuckle, “Fufufu~! No~! Nothing like that~! I guess you just give off that kind of feeling that even some of the older residents feel scared or intimidated whenever they either don't eat properly or waste food. You somehow even managed to make Nero not cause a ruckus, despite her… personality. Anyways, I give Tamamo a talking to, but not expecting anything to change, I'll leave the rest to you and Raiko.” She said before leaving and tapped his shoulders a couple of times.Before he continued his usual work, Emiya went to the counter next to him, where rested his current project, something that was not savoury but sweet. He was working on a small strawberry cheesecake, decorated carefully with glistening stars and playful figures, a design that had taken him well over an hour to get right. His hands moved with precision, steady and slow, ensuring not a single blemish spoiled the work. At last, he set a single crimson star in the centre of the dessert. “There. Done,” he murmured, exhaling deeply. Lifting the cake, he carried it to the cooler corner of the kitchen, away from the heat of the grill and the constant clatter of pans. It was quieter there, but unfortunately, he had failed to notice a certain Irishman lounging nearby, watching him with curious eyes.  “You know,” the man said, his tone half-amused, “you’re a strange one, but I never took you for someone with a taste for cute little things like that. If it’s for me, though, I’ll gladly accept it, pal. Cake is cake, no matter how childish it looks.”  Grease-coated fingers began edging toward the cheesecake, while his other hand clutched a half-finished burger. Still chewing noisily, he made it clear he intended to snatch a piece. Archer’s reflexes were quick, and his hand shot out, a metal spatula being conjured and slapping the encroaching fingers away before they could ruin his work.  “Hands off,” the white-haired Servant said firmly, narrowing his eyes before the spatual disappeared. “Or no more of those custom double-decker burgers for you.”  “Tch, stingy guy. Here I thought we were friends,” Cu muttered, pulling his hand back, though his grin betrayed that he wasn’t all that upset.  Emiya reached for the fridge, pulling out a drink he had stored earlier. The liquid was a bright pink, a simple pink lemonade that Raiko had prepared for him. Still, he had insisted on making the presentation elaborate: a small paper umbrella tucked into the glass, edible glitter lining the rim, and a star-shaped slice of lemon balanced neatly on top. It was gaudy by his standards, as he preferred something direct and minimal when it came to food, but he had someone specific in mind who would appreciate the extra touch.  “What the hell do you want? I’m busy here,” he said, setting the drink aside before washing his hands.“Do you even need to ask? I’m bored, man!” Cu leaned back in his chair, spinning his spear lazily in one hand while still gnawing on his burger. “When was the last time we went out with Master on a mission? It’s been so long my spear’s practically begging to stick it in someone.”  Emiya didn’t even look at him as he responded in a dry tone. “She took you to the last singularity less than a week ago.”  “See? That’s ages ago. I know she’s got to divide her time between us, what with how many Servants are hanging around, but eating and sleeping all day is dull. There’s got to be better ways to spend my time.”  “Go fishing,” “Where? The artificial lake we made got torn apart by that crazy lass with the tentacles. I still feel those slimy tentacles go to places they should never go. Eurgh, disgustin’!” Cu shook his head, grimacing at the memory and clenching a certain part of his body, as if in fear of getting another repeat.  “Isn’t your teacher still here? Ask her to keep you busy.”  “She’s workin’,” Cu complained, rolling his eyes. “Preparing for the next mission or doing someone a favour. Said it had to do with runes, so she kicked me out. Can’t blame her, I’d probably just mess it up and blow the entire place into a crater. Those runes are boring anyway. Speaking of boring, pass the hot sauce, will you?”  Archer grabbed the nearly empty bottle from the shelf and handed it over without much thought. His eye twitched when Cu, instead of pouring what little remained over his fries, tilted the bottle back and drank the contents in one long gulp.  “Whew! That’s good stuff! You should make more of it,” Cu said, satisfied, before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.  The memory came back to Emiya of the last time the man had asked for spicier food. Da Vinci had provided him with enhanced chili peppers, and when Cu tried cooking with them, the entire kitchen was filled with coughing and sneezing before he demanded milk and water through watery eyes. Even Heroic Spirits, resistant to ordinary discomforts, had been driven out in a fit of watery eyes and burning throats, leaving only Archer and Boudica to salvage the ruined meal. Da Vinci had been right about the peppers being dangerous for humans, but for Servants, they were potent enough to work without real harm. Cu, however, had been consuming them with such enthusiasm that Emiya half suspected he was becoming addicted.  “No, but seriously,” Cu leaned forward, pointing with the tip of his spear at the cake Archer had just finished. “What’s the cheesecake for? You’re not exactly the type to indulge in sweets, and you definitely don’t waste time on decorations like that for yourself. So tell me, who’s the lucky gal? Is it Ishtar?”That made him freeze for a moment and look at the person in front with confusion. "Why her? You think she likes these kinds of things?"  Cu shrugged, resting the weight of his spear against his shoulder. "We haven't talked much, but I see her following you around every now and then. A man can make a guess or two, especially with the way she tends to look at you when you aren't paying attention. It's not the distrustful glare Kama shows to you and that blacksmith when those girls hang around them, kinda different, I tell ya. I know the whole idea of her being a pseudo-servant shouldn't affect her personality this strongly, but some traits of your last master are starting to come through, including her fondness for you."  "I never noticed. Also, she's not technically Rin. They are just similar in nature, both have the complete inability to speak honestly. She knows me as a Nameless Heroic Spirit and is just being attentive for no reason." His mild response earned an immediate roll of the eyes from the blue-haired spearman. "You bastard, pretendin’ to be calm and collected all the time. I know deep down you’re happy, but you just refuse to admit it. Don’t worry, I've got your back. With my help, you’ll win her heart in a day and in your bed soon after. Let ol’ pal Cu be your wingman, and I’ll set you flying."  Emiya's face twisted as though he had bitten into something sour, his displeasure deepening when Cu puffed out his chest and struck a pose that was meant to look impressive. Instead, it made him look ridiculous, and the archer’s expression said as much.  "Who are you and what have you done with Lancer?"  "Hey, it wasn’t that bad. Mondricardo said it sounded cool and awesome."  "I’m fairly sure he finds everything to be cool. He probably said that just to spare your feelings. Even if it looked bad, which it does, he’d say otherwise."  Without lingering on the exchange, Archer took up a large platter, arranging everything with the same care he applied to most of his tasks. The cake was set carefully in the middle, the drink steady at its side, and a small box tied with a neat knot completed the display. The gift was modest and unassuming, but it was the best he could manage under the circumstances.  "I’ll make sure to prepare more later, extra spicy, but for now, can you do me a favor?"  The teasing mood slipped from Cu’s face, replaced with an easy smile that was straightforward and genuine. "Ask away."  "I want you to take this platter and bring it to that girl over there." Emiya inclined his head toward the far corner of the kitchen, careful not to point directly. Cu followed his gaze without issue, spotting the figure immediately. A young child sat alone at one of the tables, her upper body folded over the surface as though she had run out of strength. A wand hovered idly near her hand, moving faintly as though reacting to her state.  "Tell her this is a small gift from the kitchen staff. Don’t say anything unnecessary, and don’t tell her it came from me."  "Sure, not that I mind, but why aren’t you doing it yourself?" Cu lowered his voice, mindful of the others moving about the kitchen. It would not matter much, since half the Heroic Spirits present could hear a whisper from absurd distances, but it was instinct to be discreet.  "I don’t think it’s necessary. Service is busy, and we’re buried under orders. I need to get back to the others and lend a hand." The reply was practical, though there was a flicker of hesitation before he turned away.  "Yet you still spent a lot of your time on this, though," Cu said, narrowing his eyes at the platter. "Every detail’s precise, even down to a single sprinkle. You’re not doing this out of routine. Is it because she came back from that mission with your master yesterday, looking beaten up, and you, for some reason, can't just go up to her to ask what's wrong?"  Archer paused for a moment before answering. "I'm not going to entertain the second part of your question, but as for the first, I can’t blame her. She faced down a giant and managed to bring it down with Artoria’s help. That’s no small feat. A creature like that hasn’t been seen since the Age of Gods, and it carried power no ordinary being could even imagine. It’s a miracle she came back alive at all."  "Coming from you, that’s quite the compliment. You never fought anything like that yourself?" Not really, when he thought it over, ever since his summoning in Chaldea, the fiercest opponents he had encountered were lesser dragons. Then another, more dangerous one that had occurred during the time he supported Siegfried in putting down the beast near the coast. Outside of that singular battle, it was mostly strange and weaker phantasmic creatures, numbering in the hundreds. They were troublesome to kill, certainly, but not quite on the same level as facing something colossal. Beyond them were other Servants, altered versions of familiar ones, and the occasional rematch with a certain arrogant king of heroes.  “Not that I’ll pretend to know the best course of action,” Cu spoke with his usual bluntness, “but even an idiot like me knows it’d be better if you just hand it over yourself instead of actin’ like some shy lad too scared to speak up.”  He waited for a response from Emiya, though none came. The man simply turned away, walking back into the kitchen and joining the others who were still grilling meat, preparing more burgers for the gathered servants.  “Tch, coward,” Cu muttered under his breath. He picked up the platter of food carefully, balancing it before heading over to the far table where a young girl sat by herself.  From the corner of his eye, he watched the scene unfold. He did not intervene, but he noted the exchange silently. Some of Cu’s points he found himself agreeing with, but others he found too reckless or careless to support.  When the rush of lunch finally subsided, most of the servants returned to their quarters. The kitchen emptied, leaving only himself and Boudica behind to scrub and clear the mess, with Raiko and Tamamo having some duties to attend to. The sound of dishes being stacked and water running filled the otherwise quiet room.  “Finally back!” A feminine voice shouted, breaking the silence. His moment of calm was quickly interrupted by a familiar individual, exasperated and ragged, one that sounded like it had clawed its way back from the depths of hell itself.  “She’s back,” Boudica said with a faint smile as she wiped down the counter. “And from the looks of it, things didn’t go too badly.”  “With Artoria at her side this time, I doubt much harm came to her. Mash is with her as well, which makes things easier.” Archer spoke in his measured tone, his eyes shifting toward the door as the homunculus entered. She wore ordinary clothes, her usual armor nowhere in sight, and nestled against her chest was a deceptively cute creature, a dog-like companion whose presence radiated power despite its small size.  “Welcome back, Mash, and you as well, Master,” Emiya said as he moved forward. He was the first to greet them, his gaze falling on the red-headed girl who stumbled in behind Mash. She looked pale, drained of energy, her whole demeanor resembling someone who had dragged themselves out of a battlefield drenched in fire and ash.  “You look in rather rough shape today,” he noted.  Her response came not in words but in action. She collapsed onto her knees, clutching at his legs as tears spilled freely down her face. Her sobs were loud, raw, and unrestrained, and the wet traces of snot already threatened the fabric of his trousers. His smile tightened into a strained expression, but he did not push her away. Instead, he let out a weary sigh and reached down to pat her head with slow, steady motions that usually had the girl purring like a cat.  “All right, all right. Everything’s going to be fine. Just breathe and tell me what happened,” he said.  “Waaaaaah! Emiya! I need your help!” she cried between choked sobs. “It was so damn hard out there! We had to fight hundreds of enemies at once. It felt endless, like no matter how many we beat down, more and more kept coming! Even Mash got worn out from smashing her shield against them into a bloody pulp. Tell him, Mash! Tell him our woes!”  “It wasn’t quite that bad,” Mash answered softly. “We did have help.”  “Artoria was too busy fighting her damned sexy sister!” the girl blurted out, barreling straight through Mash’s gentle caution as if it were a wet paper bag. “Which meant yours truly had to deal with the bucket-load of nightmare garbage she coughed up. Look at this! Just look at my clothes—I’m pretty sure they’re ruined forever. And the stench? Don’t even get me started, it’s like a landfill married a wet dog, then died!” She punctuated the tirade by stabbing a finger at the greasy, otherworldly ooze splattered all over her outfit, some of which had the audacity to hitch a ride onto Archer’s apron the instant she grabbed him.“Next time, just come with me,” she demanded. “I need your wide-range super AOE Noble Phantasm to rain a tsunami of swords on those worthless mobs! It’s such a drag without it, and Mash gets surrounded on every side without someone blowing away the numbers.”  Archer let out another breath, still getting used to his Master’s eccentric behavior. “I still don’t know if I like you calling my magecraft as if it were some kind of game.”  “But it’s the right way to think about it!” she shot back, still not backing down on this topic despite numerous attempts from other people.  Unfortunately, he couldn’t argue with her logic. Even if he tried, the girl’s stubborn streak would never allow her to concede. He remembered a past instance where she had locked him in a debate for hours until he finally yielded.  “Well,” he said finally, “if you don’t mind me tagging along, then I have no objections. But it would be more efficient if you brought Ishtar instead. With her Noble Phantasm, as you so eloquently put it, she can clear away far more enemies than I can.”"But it's different, she practically nukes an entire area and I have to deal with the aftermath!"  "Since when did you care about damaging the region?" he shot back, his voice flat, completely unconvinced by her words. "In most cases, we end up fighting in remote areas, far from any civilization, or right in the middle of the enemy’s base."  This girl, though. He was sure she was hiding something. His gaze shifted to the homunculus standing a little off to the side. For most of the discussion, she had stayed quiet, her expression neutral, but the instant his eyes met hers, she faltered. She turned her head away with a guilty look, and that told him more than words ever could. He sighed before turning back to her.  "Mash."  "I-I know nothing. D-Don’t look at me like that, please…"  "Mash…" His tone carried weight, enough to make her shift uncomfortably.  “It ha-has been difficult out there! Dozens—no, perhaps more. Fifty at least?” Minotaurs, or something close enough that the distinction hardly mattered when they were charging. Still, he recalled his Master mentioning a Chimera instead, and considering the geography of the region they had been dispatched to, the presence of minotaurs seemed almost absurd. Yet they had fought them all the same. He allowed his stare to linger on Mash, disapproving but patient, until her composure cracked. Her voice slipped out barely above a whisper, so faint he might have mistaken it for the hum of an insect.  "... We kind of ended up stranded in a small village. The locals were kind enough to give us food, but the taste was… not exactly to our liking."  “Traitor! Backstabbed by sweet, precious kohai! What a cruel world I live in!” Gudako shouted, her tone switching from sorrow to outrage and back to sorrow on a dime."Ah. So that was the real reason." His attention moved to the one still clinging to his leg, refusing to let go until she had her say. "You just want a portable chef, don’t you?"  The demi-heroic spirit of the shield averted her eyes. Her cheeks colored faintly, and her words came out in a rush.  "W-Well, it’s not just about having a portable chef. Y-You’re also the best person to have with us when we’re up against several enemies at once. You know how to manage supplies during travel, too, so w-we don’t have to worry about the little things that slow us down. And… other things."  She didn’t need to continue. He understood her reasoning well enough, and knowing his Master as he did, it wasn’t surprising that she would come clean only after being pressed.  "I’ll have to ask Boudica to take over my duties. Who knows how long we’ll be gone during this next deployment?"  "Does that mean you accept!? Yippeee!"  The sudden burst of life in his Master’s voice nearly startled him. Only moments ago, she had looked utterly defeated, weighed down by fatigue, yet now she sprang upright with renewed energy. She grabbed at his collar, her eyes glittering as if salvation itself had been handed to her.  "I swear, if I eat another worm and insect dish, I’ll lose my mind and burn everything down!"  He studied her with an uneasy glance. What a frightening woman. For he knew there was a chance she was not joking at all."It’s not as if I ever refused to accompany you, Master," he said, tone level, almost caring, patting the red-haired girl once again, showing her good mood. "I am your Servant. My duty is to protect you in every situation. So when you find yourself struggling, you can rely on me. My blades, pots, and frying pan are always ready, and if you need me to cook, I can handle that too."  He hadn’t meant for his words to carry much weight, but to the red-haired girl before him, they seemed to land with overwhelming force. Tears welled in her eyes, spilling over as she pressed her sleeve against her face, sobbing softly with relief.  "See, Mash? Our hunky Mama agreed to help us."  "Senpai…"  "Not you too," he muttered in despair. That cursed title had spread across Chaldea far too quickly. Even the different Artorias had taken to teasing him with it.  "Alright then! We’ll leave in a few hours. Gather at the Rayshift chamber. I still have one more person I want to bring along. Bye, Emiya!"  With that, she spun on her heel and darted out of the room, leaving the white-haired homunculus behind. Mash remained rooted in place, looking uncomfortable, caught in the wake of her Master’s antics.  "Was it really that bad?" he asked.  Mash shook her head slowly. "Not really. The taste was just a bit too salty, and the texture… a little slimy. But overall, I guess it was okay."“Fou!” The little creature shook its head violently, its tiny face scrunching into what could only be described as disgust. It looked as though it was about to vomit at any moment, the meal before it proving truly unbearable.  “You don’t have to be polite to everything,” he said with a faint sigh, resting one hand against the table. “It’s not like the people who cooked it can hear you now.”  “I know,” Mash replied softly, her hands folded together. “I just feel bad saying it out loud. They were kind people, even if the place they lived had very little to work with. Resources there were scarce, that’s all.”  Archer gave a small nod. “All right then. I’ll get a few things ready in my room. Meet you there in a bit.”  “Thank you again, Emiya-san!” Mash said brightly, almost shouting in her eagerness.  That girl was far too considerate for her own good, Archer thought, but she had a way of being dependable when it mattered most. With that in mind, he turned and opened the door to his quarters.  Inside lay the standard Chaldean room, the same uniform space given to every member of staff and Servant alike. At first glance, it was a plain white chamber lined with metallic walls. A neatly made bed draped in a plain sheet sat against one corner, a simple table and chair nearby, along with a modest washroom that few heroic spirits ever truly needed. In the beginning, it had been spartan, efficient, and soulless.  Over time, however, Emiya's space had changed. Slowly, bit by bit, it became his own. A collection of weapons lined one wall: a set of rifles gifted to him by a fellow Servant, and a weapon which he created himself using Noble Phantasms as an experiment. A handful of blades, above his bed, hung three medals from one of Da Vinci’s eccentric competitions—culinary contests that had amused her for weeks on end. He had earned two golds and a silver, the third trial ending in less success, given it wasn't his speciality cuisine, but still carrying fond memories.  Elsewhere, mismatched items had gathered like fragments of his many lives. A Japanese low table with a worn tea set sat beside a sleek modern television. A vintage chair stood near a stack of shields. Some of it came from comrades, some from missions, and some from his own idle interest. The pieces hardly followed a theme, yet they were always kept neatly organized. “Do you need something?” His voice carried through the room before he even turned. His instincts had already told him someone was standing silently at the door.  There was indeed a figure there. A tall man stood quietly at the entrance, clad in battered combat gear, shell casings still hanging from his belt. A cloak that resembled his own shroud, frayed and torn from battle, covered part of his face. Another new arrival. His Master seemed unable to stop summoning Heroic Spirits, as if it had become a hobby she could not resist.  “Do you have time to talk? I brought a gift,” the man asked quietly, raising a bottle of still-strength tequila he got from… somewhere. At this point, the Counter Guardian had long since stopped questioning where many Heroic Spirits kept getting items that could not be found in Chaldea.“... Sure.”...Calling the atmosphere awkward would be an understatement, even though it had been at least ten minutes by now; not a single word was uttered by either man. Both had, at least, drunk a fourth of the bottle by now. So, he decided to be the one to break the silence first. Or at least, that was his plan until Assassin decided to do it first before a single syllable left his mouth.“I did not expect you to like tequila that much, that's a surprise,” Assassin said, watching him as he swallowed the alcoholic beverage. Its pungent scent threatened to overwhelm his senses, bringing a burning sensation as if fire burned through his throat and lungs, with the person next to him doing something similar — yet his reaction was mild at most. “I don't. Not much of a drinker, but I don't mind tasting new things like these. It gives me ideas on how I can use them in other ways.” “Yes, you are part of the kitchen crew, huh… I have other bottles; I will send them to you.” Mentioned the man, Emiya had no knowledge that Kiritsugu was someone who had any interest in alcohol. He literally had little to no intact memory left of that man… not that it mattered since this one differed greatly. Both of them follow the same path and are bound by Alaya. The Emiya family truly was cursed. “Thanks, I'll make sure to use it properly.” He said, genuinely appreciating the gift.“Glad to hear that.” Again, another wave of silence fell upon them. Even the sound of their breathing was audible within the deadly quiet room. Still, he waited patiently; this man's communication skills were lacking, so he never came over without a reason. Even if he just came to hang out, that idea felt very foreign and inconceivable with the associated person.Soon, Assassin finally spoke again, “A few days ago, I met a young child down the hallway. She called me dad.” “Did she…” No emotions betrayed his tone, keeping it neutral while taking another sip. “I did not believe it at first… no, maybe I just did not want to accept it. Illyasveil, that girl... she reminds me of someone. But I can't figure out who… It's confusing.” He said, getting lost in his thoughts, reliving memories of the past, most likely. Emiya knew, for he recognised having a similar expression an uncountable number of times on himself. “Memory is a fickle thing, unreliable in the most crucial of moments.” Especially for beings like them, some could see it as a blessing, but it also had its curses.Assassin nodded, “They are. But I understood regardless, after asking around a few people.” Curious enough to look deeper, huh? He could not blame the guy. But sometimes, staying ignorant would prove to be the best solution, for the answer would only invite further regret over the choices made in the past. He did not know if the man regretted his path — he never bothered to ask, nor was he going to do so. “I wondered if that other Kiritsugu holds any regrets for the path he has chosen. I ask myself what different choices he made that led him to such an outcome and whether or not it was the right way.” He said, showing a face filled with complex emotions that could not be said to be envy or even frustration. Rather, it was an amalgamation of several feelings where he found himself unable to even identify what it was. “Better ask him yourself.” At that, Assassin chuckled. “He would kill me on sight. At least, try to. Can't blame him, I would have done the same in his place.” A grin nearly made its way to Emiya's face, already having an answer for the old man due to similar experiences. “Not wanting his daughter to be around someone dangerous, understandable. Wouldn't want some of that influence to rub off on her.”“Indeed. I heard a bit more about that life. Living a peaceful life in Fuyuki with a wife, two maids, a daughter, and a son.” A slight shift sounded from his voice at that last part, though Emiya kept a normal face and took another shot — the tequila no longer having that same punch as before. “A regular life of a civilian, it's so… odd.” “Maybe his wish came true.” He added, getting a side glance from Assassin. “There is more than one way to create a miracle; it does not need to involve any magic.” “Yet it is infinitely more difficult; might as well call it an impossibility. No matter what kind of miracle lies ahead, my way of life... my sins will never change.” Assassin argued back with a hint of self-mockery. “At least I am glad that I got to learn this, it does give some sense of odd curiosity. Hm, sorry if I am rambling nonsense.” “Maybe you should talk to her to learn more. She might appreciate the attention.” He advised, not missing the irony of his words, with Cu’s words coming back to haunt him for no reason. They were tossed to the side for now; that guy and his antics always had a habit of overstaying their welcome. “In any case, I should be leaving for now, Master is definitely going to kick this door down if I am not present in the next few moments. Thanks for the tequila, I'll have Boudica send you some sweets as thanks.” With the bottle now half empty, the scent and taste linger on his tongue and nose. His own emotions are getting a bit more breathing room, not forgotten, but numbered enough for him to keep the conversation rather pleasant despite Assassin's awkwardness in the beginning. Yet as his foot stepped outside the room, he heard the man’s voice call out to him. “Emi—no, Shirou.” “...”He stopped in his tracks, neither looking back nor answering to that name. A question blooming in his mind, which seemingly was something Assassin figured out and answered with his following words. “It was mostly a guess, given what everyone calls you, Illyasveil’s own words gave me enough to link the dots and well… just a feeling that kept bugging whenever I saw you.” “Congratulations, you are a detective,” Emiya said sarcastically.“I highly doubt you tried to keep it a secret, given your true name and mine… ours.” He hesitated, contemplating his next words, but then steeled himself before Emiya felt the guy looking at him directly. “I won't ask for the details, you won't share them either way, and it is not my place to ask such a thing. But… the Kiritsugu you knew… what you are now… was it because… because of m—”“You overthink this matter a bit too much, old man.” He cut Assassin off, getting a surprised look from the latter. “The man I knew was a broken shadow of his former self, barely clinging to life. A man who was ready to abandon his dreams because he could not pursue them anymore and had lost too much to summon the willpower. Yet despite that, he saved a young boy from a fire, giving him hope, and shared with him a dream when the boy was nothing but a hollow shell of a human. Despite the outcome, he couldn't have known how things would have turned out in the end — he was no oracle. In a way, he gave the young one a reason, a purpose to continue living on by inheriting those flawed ideals. He was a hero in his eyes. Later on, as much as the grown boy may have harboured some resentment for having his father set him down this path, the final choice was ultimately his own. He has no one else to blame but himself. You and him… have nothing in common.” Assassin sat there in silence for a few seconds. “Then how about now? Do you accept this life you are forced to live?” To that, Archer just had a faint smile show on his face when a certain memory from the war surfaced in his mind. Then his moments here, the countless memories, the trinkets on his walls summoning those moments again. He knew his answer. “I am trying my best. That's it.”Maybe it was an illusion or a trick of the light, but he definitely saw a smile on Assassin's face. He definitely differed from the old man he knew; these two were nothing alike. “I see, then… that's good. I'm glad. Take care of her, too, please.” Not really good when it came to verbal communication, but Emiya still understood what was going on here. The realization nearly made him burst out in laughter, which he held back. “Humph, there is no need to state the obvious.” He answered with an audible scoff. “Also, a bit late for trying to be a father… but, well, it's better late than never. Everyone needs to start somewhere.”Assassin said nothing, finishing his glass. Emiya, on the other hand, just left without leaving any parting words; communication really was not the man's strong suit, and being around that person also made him suffer this unfortunate affliction. …The conversation was brief. Emiya listened, gave a few words in return, and closed it there. Other matters pressed on him, and he soon found himself heading toward the Rayshift chamber where his Master was waiting.  When he arrived, he stopped at once. His Master was dressed in something different this time. Instead of her usual outfit, she now wore a tightly fitted red latex-like suit that clung close to her frame. A cutout across her hand left her Command Seals visible.  “A new Mystic Code?” he asked, curiosity slipping into his tone. Keeping track of every invention Da Vinci produced had become almost impossible.  “Yes!” Gudako spun in place with a grin, clearly pleased with herself. “Pretty cool, right? Da Vinci told me it comes with a bunch of new support functions, which I really needed last time. Plus, it’s supposed to give me better protection. The only thing is…” She paused and frowned, turning sideways in an attempt to look behind herself. “I think it makes my butt look huge. Doesn’t it?”  Her grave tone over something so trivial nearly drew a laugh from Emiya, though he kept a straight face.  “But then again, it’s not as bad as Mash’s armor,” she remarked flatly.  “Senpai?!” Mash cried out, her voice sharp and wounded. Her face flushed as she looked down at her own uniform, suddenly self-conscious. “That’s not fair!”  “I didn’t mean it that way,” Gudako said, though she hardly sounded convincing. “But seriously, it’s pretty obvious. What if this thing tears in combat and ends up showing my chest or something lewd like that? Sure, maybe it’d look kind of hot, but that’s not the kind of priority I need right now!”   “Her inventions have always held up,” Archer replied, his tone calm, neither laughing nor scolding. “I doubt anything like that will happen, Master.”  Gudako tapped her foot impatiently, arms crossed. “Can’t you use your magecraft to make it look better? Something cuter, at least? You made a firearm for Alter Artoria… Altoria? Altria? Uh… scary Artoria, yeah, sounds better, of all people. Don’t tell me you can’t adjust one outfit for me.”"It's not the same, nor is it really that simple," Emiya said exasperatedly."Sure it is. I bet you don’t want it because you like how it looks on me. Not that I can blame you. I do look rather good," she replied, tilting her head toward the mirror with a playful smile. Her gaze lingered on her own reflection, fingers lightly brushing along the edge of her sleeve as if appreciating the detail more than she intended to admit. For someone so lively and unpredictable, she was difficult to pin down. Reading her moods was like trying to catch smoke with bare hands.  "Have we been briefed on what we should expect on the other side?" He asked after a pause."Patience. We should wait for our last member to arrive," came the reply through the intercom. A holographic panel flickered into existence above them, revealing Da Vinci, who appeared halfway buried in scattered papers and hovering charts. Her eyes darted from one sheet to another, lips moving with quiet calculation before she turned her attention back toward them.  Thankfully, the wait wasn’t long. The air shimmered faintly at the edge of the platform, and another figure stepped through. To Emiya’s surprise, it was her of all people.  "I’ll be tagging along! Thank you for having me!" Illya’s voice rang brightly, her smile wide and almost too cheerful for the circumstances. She looked far more at ease than the last time he had seen her.  "Glad you could join us, Illya. But still, don’t you want some time off?" Gudako asked, her earlier mischief fading into genuine concern. "After what happened, you’ve more than earned a rest."  "Do not underestimate her!" shouted Ruby, the sentient wand, as it zipped around in a blur of red light. "Illya has more than enough in her to keep going a thousand times over if she so desires!"  "Please shut up, Ruby! You’re embarrassing me!" Illya’s cheeks flushed as she grabbed the wand mid-flight.  "What? You’re the one who said it, word for word. Like that time you claimed that even if a god appeared before you, you’d summon the strength to—" Ruby’s words were cut short as Illya shook the wand furiously, slamming it against the wall.  "I said, Stop embarrassing me! I never said anything like that! Ruby’s just spouting nonsense again!" Her voice was loud, her face now scarlet as she tried to stifle the mortification.  Emiya couldn’t help but chuckle quietly. For all of Ruby’s antics, the girl’s reactions were genuine, unguarded in a way that made her seem someone her age should be. Still, he was worried. Ruby’s habit of twisting words and exaggerating every situation might one day start rubbing off on its master, which was not an appealing thought.  It was strange, he reflected, to see this version of Illya. She laughed, stumbled, and argued like a child. She wasn’t the broken girl trapped within the Einzbern castle, forced into the role of a false Grail with a fading body. That Illya bore the scars of solitude and resentment. This one, however, shared only the same face, the same silver hair. Everything else was startlingly different, almost like looking at an alternate life that could have been.  "Oh, I see Emiya-san is joining us today as well!" Ruby suddenly shouted, slipping free of Illya’s grip and darting up again. "Did you hear that, Illya? Now you’ll have great food along the way too!"  "Am I really just a portable chef for you all?" Emiya muttered, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "I can fight just as well as I can cook, you know."  "But can you fly?" Ruby countered smugly. Despite lacking a face, its tone carried enough mockery for Emiya to imagine one. The urge to grab the wand and smash it against the floor rose in his chest, though he restrained himself. His silence, however, seemed like an admission of defeat, which only made Ruby more pleased.  "That’s what I thought."  "All right, children, enough fooling around. The Rayshift system is ready." Da Vinci’s voice cut through the chatter. Her expression tightened, though her tone stayed professional. "I’ll keep you updated as soon as you arrive on the other side. I still need a few more readings before I can provide anything concrete, so bear with the delay."  "It’s fine," Gudako replied, stepping toward the chamber. Mash followed beside her, steady and quiet, and Emiya moved to join them. Just as he approached the device, he felt a small tug at his cuff.  Looking down, he saw Illya pulling gently at the fabric, her fingers barely holding onto him.  "Yes?" he asked, his voice softer, almost formal, as though uncertain what prompted her hesitation.  "Um… thank you for the gift earlier," she whispered, her head bowed slightly. The words were so quiet he almost missed them. For a brief instant, his eyes widened, though he masked it with a calm smile.  "It was the kitchen staff’s idea," he said lightly. "I only helped with the details."  "No. I can tell you were the one who made it personally for me," she replied, her tone certain. Why? He was not sure; not like Boudica, Raiko, or even Tamamo’s cooking was any less than his. "Also, Lancer is a terrible liar."“What?”  “Basically, he tried to look smart and mysterious, but it really didn’t work out. He kind of sucks at lying,” Ruby remarked, her tone light but cutting enough to earn a chuckle from Emiya. He couldn’t exactly blame her for being blunt. Truthfully, it was his own fault for handing the task to the Irishman in the first place.  “It was nothing. Did you like it?” he asked, trying to shift the conversation.  “Yes! It was one of the best things I’ve ever eaten,” she replied with a bright smile. “Eh—?” Her words caught short, faltering as she froze. A hand descended from above and settled gently on her head, fingers running softly through her hair. The Counter Guardian wore an expression not often seen upon him. It was a smile. Not absent from his character, but rare enough to feel special in the moment.  “Happy birthday, Illya.”  “—!” She shivered slightly, her gaze dropping before she looked back up at him. For a heartbeat, her eyes mirrored the warmth he carried, as if they reflected each other. “Hehehe… T-Thank you!”  With that said, the two made their way toward the center of the chamber where the others were waiting. The hum of machinery filled the room, gears grinding and magical currents building. The air shimmered with the density of mana, the Rayshift system preparing itself for its next journey into a singularity.  “Coordinates locked. Target established, singularity confirmed,” Da Vinci called out from her console, her hands working across the array of glowing screens. “Adjusting frame stability… calibrating output… and we’re nearly set! Don’t move too much once the shift begins. I don’t want to scrape what’s left of your molecular patterns across a hallway in Chaldea.”  As the light beneath them began to flare, seconds ticked by. Normally, the process was smooth, a brief flash before arrival. This time, however, Archer felt a tremor run through him. It wasn’t only him, either.  “Is it just me, or does this feel like it’s taking longer than usual?” Gudako asked, her brow furrowed. Mash also glanced around, her expression uncertain.  The energy only continued to gather, swelling beyond the standard limit. What should have been a momentary surge dragged on endlessly, until even those less familiar with the process could sense that something was wrong.  “Leonardo?” Emiya called, his voice laced with expectation. He wanted her reassurance, her explanation, perhaps even her quick fix. What he received instead tightened the unease gripping his chest.  “What!? That’s impossible! Someone from the other side is—no, not interference. A separate source? But where could it be—” Her voice cut off, drowned by the roar of the machine as its output spiked.  Emiya felt it first, that sense of looming disaster crawling over his skin. He remembered the reports of Chaldea’s early days, of the singular accident that caused devastation enough to ‘kill’ the first director. Though he hadn’t been there, the tension in the air now was far too dangerous.  “Shit, get cover!” he barked, his instincts taking over. He seized Gudako, who stood the closest to the light, by the collar and hurled her toward safety, away from the heart of the light.  “E-Emiya?!” she cried, but her voice barely registered.  His body moved before his mind could catch up. Every fiber of his being screamed of danger. He threw himself in front of Illya, shielding her with his body. His back bore the brunt of the glow, his arms wrapping around the young girl, making sure she would not get hurt. At the edge of his vision, he caught Mash stepping forward, her shield raised in defense, standing like a wall before her Master.  The energy crescendoed. A violent burst followed, a force that turned the chamber blinding white. Mash’s shield stood firm, neither cracking nor breaking into fragments under the pressure — but the same could not be said about the translucent barrier created by Illya. Cracking, much to her dismay. “Oh no!” she panicked, voice trembling.  Yet Emiya remained composed. At the last possible instant, as the shield threatened to give way completely, he shoved Illya back with one arm, propelling her as far as he could manage. His other hand lifted toward the heart of the chaos. His lips moved, though the words themselves were lost beneath the roar, only fragments escaping in whispers none could catch. Blue motes swirled, coalescing into swords and shields, layer upon layer stacking into a barrier of steel.  But perhaps he was a heartbeat too late. The light did not crash against his wall, nor break it. Instead, it seeped through, as if the blades were no more than holographic projections in its path. His barrier stood, but the radiance treated it like air, soon engulfing him wholly.  “Urgh!” The searing pain came instantly, a fire that tore through flesh and spirit alike. Then everything collapsed into darkness, with the last thing he heard being Illya's voice shouting his name. {Break}-Rukongai-Days within the Rukongai always slipped by without notice. What felt like a single pause of rest could turn into several days gone, and before long, the small bundle of rations they had managed to gather would be emptied. That reality forced Rangiku to constantly think of how to get more, yet in her current emaciated state, due to years of eating scraps, most methods were impossible. She had understood from an early age that life here was not fair. Death could arrive in many forms: a hollow’s sudden attack, or the slower, harsher grip of starvation, something she had nearly succumbed to once.  “We barely have a cup of rice left. What should we do, Gin?” she asked quietly, though her words carried the sharp edge of worry.  The boy who had been her only companion for the past few years, one with snake-like eyes and silver-white hair, glanced up at her. He was the one who had found her collapsed by the roadside, skin and bones, and given her another chance to survive.  “Eh, already? Are you sure you’re not eating twice what a normal person would? That was supposed to last for a month,” Gin replied, his narrow eyes gleaming with faint amusement as he sat cross-legged, reading through a tattered book they had scavenged from some abandoned place.  “I eat just as much as you! Are you calling me fat? Don’t make me hate you again!” she shouted back, cheeks puffing slightly as her irritation rose.  Her outburst only made Gin chuckle. It was always the same with him. No matter how hard she tried, he seemed to twist her words to his advantage, leaving her unable to win an argument.  “Silver-tongued fox,” she thought with a pout. “One day I’ll win.”  She stood up, her limbs protesting with a dull ache. Sleeping night after night on the hardwood floor of their shelter had left her body sore, though she had long since learned to live with it. Stretching slightly, her eyes roamed over the shack they called home. It had once been nothing more than an abandoned shed, tucked away in the outermost parts of the Rukongai. When they first stumbled upon it, the place was a wreck, the roof had collapsed, no door to speak of, moss was clinging to the walls, and insects were crawling in the gaps between the warped boards of the floor.  Now, after weeks of effort, it was at least livable. A torn tarp sagged above as a makeshift roof, and a ragged cloth hung where the doorway should be, giving them some small privacy from the outside world.  “Well, we still have a few hours before nightfall,” Rangiku said, brushing dust from her clothes. “We should be able to scavenge a few things before it gets too dark.”  “Yeah,” Gin answered with a small shrug, not looking up from the book.  Her gaze lingered on the worn pages he was so focused on, curiosity gnawing at her. “What are you reading anyway?”  “Are you seriously interested,” he said, tilting his head slightly, “or just asking because you’re bored?”  “Both,” she admitted without hesitation.  “Just something interesting. Talks about how a person can harness and grow their spiritual energy. There are also records and stories about soul reapers. Quite fascinating, I’d say,” Gin explained, casually flipping another page.  The orange-blonde-haired girl let out a short hum. “Will that help us find food anytime soon? Because if not, I don’t see much use for it.”  He finally closed the book halfway and looked at her with that same sly expression he always wore. “Remember what I told you when we first met? That spiritual pressure is essential if we want to live longer. With it, we won’t have to worry about starving again.”  She folded her arms, her expression doubtful. “I still don’t see how that works.”  “Spiritual energy makes us stronger. If you’re strong, then people don’t mess with you. You can defend yourself, and it becomes easier to get food. And if you keep building that strength, at the end of the road, you can become a soul reaper.”  “A soul reaper?” Rangiku repeated, frowning. The blonde girl’s tone carried more frustration than curiosity. “I’m not interested. Those rich types barely lift a finger to help us. All they do is take what little people like us manage to scrape together and consume it all for themselves. I won’t turn into one of those selfish bastards.”"Quite a bit of anger you have there, but it is misplaced. Soul Reapers are just as important as we saw them to be to the Rukongai," he said, his voice calm, though not without a hint of reproach.  "Then they sure know how to show how important we are," she said, her tone carrying a mix of frustration and disbelief. She had seen the countless people in the villages, struggling to scrape together enough to eat, living in conditions that would break most spirits, even when this was supposed to be the afterlife. Meanwhile, she had observed Soul Reapers moving freely through the streets, treated as if they were nobles, given everything without effort, living lives of luxury simply for existing. She had to risk her own life just to acquire a few scraps of bread, and the disparity gnawed at her.  "Well, I cannot disagree with you on that," he admitted, a note of seriousness in his voice. "Our society is not perfect. Some people fail to fulfill their duties, blinded by greed, forgetting those they are supposed to serve."  "You sure like to use big and complicated words for no reason. It's getting weird, Gin. Let's just find something to eat. I do not want to go to sleep with an empty stomach again," she replied, exhaling in a mixture of irritation and exhaustion.  "Do not stress about it," he said with a faint smile. "I actually already made plans today, and I have gathered a lot of food. It should keep us going and keep our bellies full for several days, if not half a month." The statement immediately sparked her curiosity, and she found herself wondering what exactly he had in mind.  "Good. But this time, I will be coming with you as well. You always go without me and come back either wounded or off doing something else. I will not hear any excuse today," she said firmly, stepping outside and giving him no opportunity to evade her request. Gin had a bad habit of wandering off to who knows where without her. Whenever she asked where he went, he would offer no answer, and the uncertainty only heightened her irritation.  "Someone's quiet and prickly today," he remarked casually, though there was a faint chuckle in his tone. "I suppose hunger really does make us different. But I was going to invite you anyway. I cannot carry all that food on my own, so I will need a helping hand."  "That much?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow. "I do not think there is any place that could hold that much food, unless you are planning on robbing a restaurant again."  He shook his head lightly, then gestured for her to follow while he took the lead. His silence on the matter made her eyes twitch, but she obeyed, falling in step behind him. Once again, she allowed herself a small doubt. Could Gin really find a way to acquire food today? Even with his odd habits, he was generally reliable.  "Hey, Gin," she began, but then paused, uncertainty creeping in as the path they followed led further away from the town. Today, she found herself questioning his direction. What she had expected to be a short journey within the Rukongai had become a walk heading outward, past the outskirts, in a direction that did not lead toward the town.  "Aren't we heading the wrong way? The town is that direction," she asked, pointing vaguely behind them.  "Now, this is the correct path," he explained, his voice low and measured. "We are not going to the center. Too many people there, and even if we had the money to buy food, carrying such an amount would attract attention. Desperate individuals might attempt to take it, and I cannot risk that."  She considered this, nodding slowly. "I suppose that is true."  Agreeing with his logic, she fell silent and continued to follow him. They walked deeper, the familiar streets fading behind them, the buildings giving way to open fields and scattered trees. As they went further, something caught her attention in the distance.  "An outpost?" she murmured, confusion lining her voice. Her eyes widened as realization struck her. Soon, she understood what Gin had planned.  "You are actually planning on stealing from a Soul Reaper outpost? That is dangerous," she asked, her tone a mix of disbelief and concern. This location was typically an established post, one where a Soul Reaper would be assigned to monitor the outskirts of the Rukongai. The land itself was vast, extending far beyond anything she had ever explored, so some level of security was expected. These outposts usually housed one or two Soul Reapers, enough to pose a significant threat if caught unprepared.  "Calm down," he said, his expression unchanging. "The last thing I want is to confront one of those people and have a sword pointed at my neck. The Soul Reaper who normally works here disappeared two days ago. I tend to stop by regularly to speak with him, and his absence was unusual. I asked around town to find out what happened. Apparently, he was sent to Earth following a promotion and a change in duties."  "Hold on! Wait a minute, back up a bit. You were talking to this person every day? A Soul Reaper? Why? How?" she asked, her voice quickening as more questions piled up in her head with each passing second. The thought alone made her uneasy. These people were arrogant and distant, often dismissive of anyone who dared approach them. She still remembered the last time she had tried to go near one to beg for a little coin or food. Instead of kindness, she had been shoved away without so much as a glance, her pleas ignored as though she were invisible. It happened more than once. She had approached several over time, hoping one of them might see her desperation, but almost every time the outcome was the same: rejection. Out of a dozen she had encountered, only one had ever been kind enough to spare her even the smallest offering. That was her reality. Yet here Gin was, saying he spoke to one daily? To her, that was almost unthinkable.  "People become easier to talk to when they’re bored and need some sort of interaction," Gin replied, his tone even, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. "Out here, no one comes by. No one bothers him, and no one interrupts. So, he spends his days staring out at nothing, with no one to speak to and no distractions to pass the time. I just happened to wander around, and eventually, I ended up being his outlet. We got to talking, and over time it became a habit. Sometimes we discuss books, sometimes bits of information about spiritual energy. Just simple things to pass the time, you know how it goes."  The more he spoke, the more stunned she became. Her brows furrowed as she tried to make sense of it all. But in the end, she decided to let it go. This was Gin, after all. He had a habit of doing things that made little sense to anyone but himself, and yet he always carried through.  "In any case," Gin went on, brushing aside her silent doubts, "the Soul Reaper or the outpost itself aren’t what matters right now. What’s important is what lies beneath the outpost. You see, he regularly leaves a stash of food and provisions. Soul Society is oddly generous with supplies for those stationed at posts like this. He usually receives more than he needs. Instead of letting it spoil or wasting it by giving it away, he stores it down below."  He gestured for her to follow, leading the way toward a dugout cellar built into the ground. The entrance looked makeshift, framed with uneven planks of wood that barely held together, though sturdy enough to serve as a storage space. It gave off the impression of something hastily assembled, yet purposeful.  "This place is locked," she pointed out as she eyed the wooden hatch. "Even if you tried to break through, there must be some kind of security measures in place. Didn’t the scary granny talk about those spells they use? Surely there would be markings or wards that would alert him if someone forced their way in."  "No need to worry, I have this," Gin said, pulling something from his pocket. He held out a small key, simple in appearance but clearly not ordinary. Sliding it into the lock, he turned it with a slow twist. The mechanism clicked, and the door creaked open without resistance.  Her eyes widened. "How did you get that key?" she asked, her surprise rising with every answer he gave.  The boy smirked lightly. "Oh, that was simple. The Soul Reaper drank too much one evening. While he was out of it, I slipped the key from his pocket, made a quick copy, and returned the original before he noticed. Easy enough."  "You’re sure he won’t find out it was us?" she pressed, still wary.  "He doesn’t give me the impression of being all that sharp," Gin replied, already stepping inside. He reached down and hauled up a sack of rice, the bag nearly as heavy as her entire frame. Just seeing that much food in one place made her mouth water. She had never laid eyes on such abundance in her life.  "So, what are you waiting for? Grab the fruit. There are plenty of apples here for you to enjoy," he urged.  Hesitation tugged at her for only a moment, but hunger was stronger. Her stomach’s gnawing ache left her little choice, and she soon found herself gathering as much as she could carry. Together, they loaded their arms with food, stepping carefully back up to the surface and glancing around to ensure no one had noticed them. Once the coast was clear, they slipped away with their bounty.  "Hahaha! With this, I can finally sleep with a full belly tonight!" she laughed, her voice carrying both relief and joy.  "Hey, wait," Gin interrupted, his eyes narrowing as he noticed something in her grasp. "What’s that in your hand?"“Oh, just saw a sake bottle and got curious. Always wanted to try one of these out. I’ve wondered why people in the Rukongai enjoy drinking them so much, even though half of them end up acting like fools once they’ve had too much.”  “...”  She received no answer. Rangiku had expected him to at least offer some comments, maybe share a laugh, or even match her curiosity about the taste. Just as she opened her mouth to question his silence, Gin’s smile slipped away. His expression hardened as his eyes swept the area with an edge that was far too sharp for his usual demeanor.  “Gin? Ah!”  Her attempt to call his name turned into a startled cry as he suddenly pulled her along without warning. The basket in her arms slipped free, tumbled to the ground as fruits and vegetables scattered across the dirt, their freshness spoiled in an instant. She grimaced at the sight, the carefully chosen product ruined, but the chance to scold him vanished the moment she realized he had dragged her behind a large boulder.  She stared at him, confusion flashing across her face, ready to demand why he would do something so reckless. Yet that thought died when she caught sight of Gin’s expression. His features, usually fixed in that unreadable grin, carried a weight she had never seen before. With a grave look and a single hand raised for silence, he wordlessly told her to stay still.  That look alone unsettled her. Gin never dropped his smile without reason, and if he did, it was never for something minor. Rangiku immediately froze in place, her body tense as unease began to twist in her chest. The ground beneath her feet trembled, faint at first but repeating again and again, like the steps of something massive moving steadily closer.  Her heartbeat quickened. Gin leaned forward to glance past the rock, and despite her better judgment, she followed his lead. Her breath caught in her throat. Her face drained of color the moment she saw it.  A Hollow.  One of those wretched beings born from souls twisted with regret and hunger, cursed to feed endlessly on the living and the dead alike. What was one doing here, in the heart of Soul Society? This was their enemy’s domain. Such a creature had no right to exist here, let alone roam so close without getting killed by the patrols!Boom.  Boom.  The ground shook with each step of the monster, the heavy thuds echoing through her chest. She covered her mouth, not wanting to let so much as a squeak out. She heard it sniff its surroundings, almost as if it knew they were here and it was just seeking them out slowly for fun. A guttural sound escaping its pale white bone-like mask, with sharp teeth capable of ripping anyone into pieces. A monster that could devour souls and forever push them into nothingness. “—!” Her moment of dread soon ended with shock, not due to the monster doing something unexpected or finding her location, but rather because Gin, who was supposed to be hiding next to her, now suddenly stood on the other side of the field, throwing rocks at the huge monster. “Hey, big guy, long way from home, aren't you? You must be quite hungry. What a coincidence, so am I.” He said casually with a sleazy grin, showing no fear whatsoever and even juggling with the rocks a bit before throwing them, though his eyes momentarily met hers, with him gesturing to her to leave when she could. ‘N-No! I can't leave you here! What are you even doing!?’ She wanted to scream those words, but no voice escaped her mouth. She just stood there, trembling with fear, as despite her intentions not to leave him behind, her body betrayed that notion and started to inch away slowly but surely. ‘He’ll die if I leave him!’So would she if she remained behind; the girl possessed no prowess whatsoever to change the outcome even if she made her presence known. “Roar!”The creature roared, rushing towards Gin with its mouth wide open, about to swallow him whole, its large hulking body making the ground tremble and causing the boy to fall down as he intended to run away or even dodge. “No, Gin!” Time seemed to have gone into slow motion. Rangiku watched with despair as the creature came closer to the boy and was about to devour him. But that moment never came, for in the next second, at the corner of her eyes, she saw something that made her momentarily pause with confusion. The sky above was deforming, like a balloon getting filled with water, expanding in a way that she could not describe it and in the next second…Boom!A white pillar of light descended right in front of her, onto the creature itself, which released a wail of pain, unable to even resist it, with its body turning into ashes in an instant, and soon clouds of dust rising into the air from the sudden explosion. “Ah!” The girl covered her face, nearly getting flung away by the sheer force alone that managed to hold on to a tree nearby, “Gin!” The Shockwave blasted for a few seconds until it calmed down, seeing no sight of the creature anymore, hope bloomed in her heart as she then rushed ahead, beating her fears in that single moment. “Kya!” But in her haste, she had missed the large hole on the ground and fell into it, rolling downwards with her skin scraping against the sharp stone, but mostly remaining unharmed until she landed on something hard enough that it probably gave her a concussion. “Ouch!” Flinching backwards and holding her head up, she winced at what the hell she just landed on as it did not feel as hard as a stone, but still hurt like hell. “Oh my, what do we have here?” Hearing the familiar voice come off, she opened her eyes back up to see the white earth boy having also descended onto the whole and still alive. “Gin, you're alive!” “Of course I am,” he said casually, then proceeded to point his finger downwards. “But is he?” ...Emiya was no stranger to a migraine strong enough that it would feel like having his head split into two, but he had to admit, this certainly ranked amongst the most painful ones he had experienced in his life, which said a lot. ‘Of course, this had to happen when I joined the team.’ While he regularly liked to joke about his abysmal luck, this time he truly blamed that aspect for what had just occurred. Nevertheless, somehow, he had survived, and his body felt mostly intact after a quick analysis showing no major wounds whatsoever. Whatever that explosion was, it was painful but did not cause any harm for some reason. “This looks expensive.”“What are you doing!? What if he wakes up? We shouldn't be messing with Soul Reapers.”“Does this guy look like a soul reaper to you? Also, if a person just fell from the sky and landed hard enough to obliterate a hollow, I doubt he's going to be waking up anytime soon. Also, just look at those clothes, they look expensive as hell. Let's just see what we can find in his pockets and then sell them on the black market. This kind of material, it's probably silk, with that we can buy enough food to last us a month even.”“Oooh, good point!” … What? He did not expect to hear two young voices speak right next to him; he did not recognise them. Yet they were trying to search his pockets for anything valuable, which he had none, and clearly, someone was trying to take off his shroud. “He's waking up!” “Shit!” His eyes opened, and the first thing he came to find was two kids. One with white hair and fox-like eyes, a blonde-haired girl with wounds and bruises on her face. Both frozen in place as if caught red-handed with their hands inside the cookie jar. Especially the boy who was trying to remove his shroud but was unable to do so. “... H-Hello… “ said the girl with a stutter, awkwardly pulling her hands away. “Um… we weren't s-stealing… anything.” “...”The girl becomes even more nervous under his stare. “Y-You can take our stuff as an apology! I-I have some sake! Please don't kill us!” “...”What a strange singularity.