Chapter 15: Partners in Crime

       

Chapter 15: Partners in Crime

Lord Aozaki’s voice wasn’t loud—but it was just loud enough for the people around them to hear.

It was clear he wanted attention. To humiliate Touko in front of an audience.

But Touko wasn’t some helpless pushover either.

She calmly took out a cigarette and lit it, her expression one of utter disinterest—like she hadn’t even noticed her grandfather’s words.

“Ooh, this should be good.”

Shinji halted mid-step, completely forgetting the snacks he was about to grab. With keen interest, he turned to watch the Aozaki family drama unfold.

Meanwhile, Zouken had already found himself a chair, settling in like it was a theater performance.

“The old man’s gone too far,” he muttered. “Calling his own granddaughter a stray dog? Tsk. If anything, that girl’s a very pretty bitch.”

“...Ojii-chan.”

Shinji pinched the bridge of his nose.

“If you can’t say anything remotely decent, just shut up.”

Zouken only chuckled, completely unfazed, his gaze still glued to the brewing storm in the crowd.

The confrontation between Lord Aozaki and his granddaughter continued.

“Grandfather, please don’t get so worked up.”

Aoko stepped in quickly, offering a strained smile as she tried to ease the tension—while also shooting pleading looks at her older sister.

But Touko, of course, didn’t back down in the slightest. In fact, she glanced sideways at her grandfather with visible disdain.

“You’re still here? Didn’t you say this wasn’t a place for strays to scrounge food?”

CRACK

The table next to her exploded into splinters.

Judging from the burst of mana, Shinji could tell—that was Lord Aozaki’s doing.

“Grandfather!”

Aoko stepped closer and whispered urgently, “This is a banquet hall. There are outsiders here.”

That seemed to bring the old man back from the edge of a full outburst. His rage simmered, but he didn’t explode.

Instead, he jabbed a finger at the hall’s entrance.

“Get out. This is no place for third-rate magi. You’re no longer of the Aozaki family—you have no right to be here!”

Touko paused mid-smoke, her eyes narrowing behind her lenses.

Oh, she was angry too—furious, even—but unlike her grandfather, she had restraint.

With this many big names in Japan’s magecraft world present, getting into a shouting match would only tarnish her reputation, and that would be bad for business.

So she forced herself to take a deep breath and replied calmly:

“I was invited here by a client. It has nothing to do with you.”

Lord Aozaki opened his mouth to launch another jab—but Touko didn’t give him the chance.

She stood up, brushing off her coat with a snort.

“Here I thought this would be a high-class affair. Turns out it’s just another trashy gathering. I’m out.”

Waving her hand without a care in the world, she turned and walked straight out of the hall, not once looking back.

“Ojii-chan, if you’ll excuse me.”

Shinji’s eyes flashed.

He’d seen all he needed to see.

Without hesitation, he followed after her.

“Go on, go on,”

Zouken waved his cane cheerfully, as if sending his grandson off on a date. Frankly, he seemed thrilled that Shinji was chasing after her.

With Touko gone, the mood in the banquet hall grew heavy.

Lord Aozaki remained silent, unmoving, and nobody else dared speak up.

Everyone knew about the fallout between him and Touko. It wasn’t a secret. At least not in Japan’s magical circles.

But knowing and getting involved were two different things.

No one here was stupid enough to take sides.

On one hand, the grandfather was a powerful and well-connected figure in the Association—not someone to offend lightly.

On the other hand, the granddaughter was a renowned expert in crafting magical tools. Sooner or later, they’d probably all need something from her.

So the guests did the only thing they could: they kept their distance and pretended none of this had happened.

“Grandfather… please don’t be angry anymore.”

Aoko stepped forward hesitantly, putting on a brave face. She didn’t want to get involved in the mess between her sister and grandfather—but unfortunately, she was the only one left who could even talk to the old man.

“Angry?” Lord Aozaki suddenly gave a dry laugh. “Why would I be angry? She’s no longer a member of the Aozaki family. What she does has nothing to do with me.”

Aoko forced a smile, but inside, she couldn’t help feeling bitter toward her grandfather’s overbearing nature.

Even if my sister didn’t meet your expectations, couldn’t you have just made me the family head? Why go as far as disowning her and cutting ties completely? What exactly are you trying to prove?

“Enough. Come now, I’ll introduce you to the promising young talents of Japan’s magecraft world.”

With a sharp, huffing snort, Lord Aozaki led Aoko in another direction of the banquet hall.

“Aoko, keep your head straight. Absolutely do not mingle with shady types.”

Aoko’s smile twitched unnaturally. It was already a miracle she’d kept it up this long.

. . . . . . . . .

Meanwhile, on the other side of the hotel, Shinji had finally found Touko.

She hadn’t left the building—just settled herself into a couch in the hotel’s ground floor lobby.

“Mind if I sit here, senpai?”

Despite asking, Shinji didn’t wait for permission before plopping down beside her.

“Maa~ with such a handsome kouhai, how could I say no?”

Touko chuckled, not the least bit bothered by his sudden company. She didn’t hurl any sharp remarks either—something Shinji noted with faint surprise.

Her letting him sit here... was a small but clear gesture. It meant she recognized him as an ally. After how alone she’d just been upstairs, that counted for something.

Shinji raised a brow, surprised she accepted the senpai–kouhai dynamic so easily.

After all, it was a term he’d deliberately used to close the distance between them.

Technically speaking, their fields of study at the Clock Tower were entirely different. At best, you could call them fellow alumni.

“My apologies, kouhai,”

Touko snubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray, then slid her glasses up to rest on her forehead. Leaning back lazily, she spoke in a deliberately casual tone.

“If I’d known that old fossil was going to make such a scene, I wouldn’t have bothered showing up. I must’ve really ruined your evening, huh?”

“Not at all. I’ve had a bone to pick with that geezer for a while now.”

Shinji gave her a thumbs-up.

“The nerve of him, acting like he knows better than me when it comes to magecraft.”

“Oi oi, you really gonna say that to my face?” Touko playfully glared at him. “He is still my grandfather, you know.”

“Yeah, well... he doesn’t treat you like family, so why should I?” Shinji shrugged, looking completely innocent.

Touko didn’t say anything for a long moment.

She couldn’t deny it.

Bzz bzz

A notification broke the silence between them.

She casually pulled out her phone, glanced at it once, and stuffed it back into her coat pocket without responding.

“It’s from my little sister. Wants to have dinner with me and gramps sometime, talk things out properly.”

She said it with such nonchalance that Shinji couldn’t help but look at her with a skeptical tilt of the head.

“Is your sister holding a grudge against a restaurant or something?” Shinji deadpanned. “If you and your grandfather end up in the same place again, odds are you’ll demolish the entire venue.”

“Fufu. Well, you never know~” Touko chuckled. “Aoko’s always had these naïve little fantasies about reconciliation.”

'Or maybe she does have a personal grudge against a restaurant.'

Recalling the moment that red-haired woman secretly gave him a thumbs-up, Shinji got the distinct feeling she wasn’t exactly the most well-behaved soul either.

“Personally, I think there’s an 80% chance you and Lord Aozaki will start fighting the second you meet again. And once that happens, things’ll get ugly.”

Shinji rested his chin on his hands and gazed directly at her.

“Which is why I suggest solving this at the root.”

Under his intense stare, Touko felt a weird chill crawl up her spine.

'What’s with this kid... is he planning to come after me?'

Her guess wasn’t wrong.

Shinji was planning to go after her—but not in the way she imagined. Not her body.

Her talents.

“Senpai. Lord Aozaki’s stubbornness is legendary. He’s never going to listen to you. Worse, he’s going to keep spreading negative impressions of you until no one wants to deal with you anymore.”

“So, what? You want me to become a Magician and shut him up forever?” Touko scoffed.

“With the decline of mystery in the world, the chances of a new Magician being born are near zero,” Shinji replied flatly. “I’m talking about taking away his influence in the magecraft world.”

Touko let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh.

“That’s impossible.”

Though she absolutely despised that old fossil, Touko was well aware of the man’s status in the world of magecraft.

He might not be the most powerful mage in the world, but in the Far East? His word was practically law.

“Who says it’s impossible? If the magecraft world undergoes a reform—if the whole game gets reshuffled—there’s a real chance those old relics get swept into the trash heap of history.”

As Shinji said this, a gleam lit up in his eyes.

“Senpai, I have a plan...”

And with that, Shinji began to explain.

He didn’t focus much on his efforts in film and entertainment. Instead, he zeroed in on the core of it all: his goal to fundamentally transform the world of magecraft itself.

A new order—where practical, results-driven magecraft becomes the mainstream, and stubborn old fossils like Lord Aozaki are gradually pushed into irrelevance. No more influence. No more power. Just outdated voices in a world that no longer listens.

At first, Touko couldn’t take him seriously. She thought this little kouhai was delusional, building castles in the sky.

But the more she listened, the more her expression shifted.

Sure, it was just a blueprint for now—but if he actually pulled it off...

“That’s kinda hot,” she muttered, smirking.

Something clicked inside her.

She poked Shinji lightly on the chest with one finger.

“So that’s it, huh? You came looking for me on purpose—wanted to pull your senpai onto your pirate ship.”

“I’m serious,” Shinji replied with a calm smile. “I’ve been wanting to reach out to you for a long time. Just never got the chance. This party was the perfect opening.”

“I see...”

Touko toyed with her cigarette pack absentmindedly, her face blank but her thoughts racing.

She had her own sources of information, and she knew about what the Matou family and the magus in Fuyuki had been up to recently. Everything Shinji said matched up. He wasn’t bluffing.

What she didn’t know was just how far he could go.

Still… this kouhai’s plan was tempting.

'Screw it. Worst case, I just pull out if it doesn’t work.'

Given her age, Touko figured she could wait it out until that stubborn old man finally kicked the bucket and she'd be free to do whatever she wanted.

But really, what fun was dancing on a grave compared to a victory right in his face?

Touko knew exactly what would hurt her grandfather most.

Not physical defeat.

Not death.

But having the entire magecraft world deny his ideals—disregard him as obsolete—treat him like he no longer existed.

That would break him more than any blade ever could.

'Just imagining the look on that old man’s face when the world no longer cares about his opinions... delicious.'

A smirk curled onto her lips without her even noticing.

“Two years.”

“Huh?”

Shinji blinked in confusion.

“You’ve got two years. That’s all I’m giving you. If nothing’s come of your plan by then, I’m out.”

Given Touko’s age, two years was something she could afford to waste. But more than that, she was curious. Just how far could this ambitious kouhai actually go?

“Of course,” Shinji agreed without hesitation.

If two years passed and he still hadn’t made any progress, then honestly? That would just mean he was hopeless. Not even Touko would need to say anything—he’d be the one digging a hole and burying himself out of shame.

“Oh, and don’t forget—pay me.” Touko flashed a mocking smile. “Your senpai doesn’t come cheap.”

“Your compensation will be more than satisfactory, I promise.”

Shinji truly needed someone like Touko. She was a top-tier craftswoman—an absolute monster when it came to producing high-quality mystic tools.

Originally, that position had been meant for Medea. But due to a summoning mishap, Shinji had missed the chance to recruit her.

Thankfully, Fate/Stay Night didn’t require many custom-made magical props, so Shinji had managed so far. But for his next film? That might not be the case.

Touko’s addition filled a gaping hole in his team’s production staff.

“Then I’ll be counting on you, Senpai.”

“And I’ll be watching you, Kouhai.”

The two shook hands, sealing their alliance.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

After the banquet, Shinji returned to Tokyo to resume post-production on Fate/Stay Night.

Touko had agreed to join his team, but she didn’t immediately move to Fuyuki. She still had commissions to wrap up first.

Shinji wasn’t worried, though. He knew her well enough—if she said she’d join, she would. No flaking. That was just the kind of person Touko was.

Besides, Fate/Stay Night's post-production still wasn’t finished, and his next film project wasn’t even past the “New Folder” stage. Even if she showed up now, he had no work to give her.

With her scheduled to officially join in spring, Shinji shifted his focus entirely to Fate/Stay Night’s completion.

Before the party, he had already completed a rough cut of the film—a major first step.

But there was still a mountain of work ahead: fine edits, voice recording, music selection and composition, sound design. Every step demanded time, effort, and perfectionism.

Shinji was aiming to make Fate/Stay Night the first true commercial blockbuster in this parallel world. So naturally, his standards were nothing short of elite—comparing his work not to the garbage churned out locally, but to the masterpieces he’d admired in his past life.

And great films didn’t come from cutting corners.

Shinji threw himself entirely into work at Tsuburaya Productions’ post studio. He shut out the outside world entirely—even spent New Year’s 2003 working in the editing suite.

Even when Lord El-Melloi II reached out from England to discuss potential partners in North America, Shinji just flat-out ignored him.

“The movie’s not even finished! Why are you talking about exporting eggs when the hen isn’t even laying yet? That’s a later problem!”

He had no idea what kind of “surprise” Waver’s silence would bring him later.

During this period of intense work, Shinji received massive help from the Tsuburaya post-production team.

While their philosophy on filmmaking was outdated, their technical skills and experience were rock-solid. They gave Shinji invaluable assistance and insight.

And finally—after more than two months of tireless effort, in early March 2003—the post-production of Fate/Stay Night reached its initial completion.

Which meant one thing:

The screening of the first cut, the all-important preview that would determine its path to release, was just around the corner.