Chapter 40: Going Back

               

Chapter 40: Going Back

As the 56th Cannes Film Festival drew to a close, Shinji and the Fate/Stay Night team finally received an official invitation to the closing ceremony.

Unlike the utter cold shoulder they'd gotten at the opening, the explosive buzz Fate/Stay Night generated during its screenings had clearly changed the organizers’ attitude. The staff who delivered the invitation were all smiles and bows, treating Shinji and company with ridiculous politeness.

This stark contrast made Shinji feel firsthand what they meant by "the fleeting warmth of the entertainment world."

Of course, as the ever-professional director, Shinji wasn’t about to pull any smug “face-slapping” drama like in some tacky web novel.

Instead, he politely accepted the invitation and brought Waver and Rin along to attend the closing ceremony in good faith—for Fate/Stay Night’s ongoing publicity, naturally.

That said, Shinji still thought the whole thing was just as boring as the opening.

Aside from the host giving a brief shout-out to Fate/Stay Night for “boosting audience engagement this year,” there wasn’t a single moment that held Shinji’s attention.

The awards ceremony, which should’ve been the “main event,”? Yeah, no thanks.

Shinji and Fate/Stay Night weren’t even in the running for anything, so it was just watching strangers get trophies.

Unlike the Oscars, where one movie might sweep everything, the Cannes jury preferred to "spread the love."

No monopolies. Just bite-sized trophies for everyone.

But hey, none of that mattered to Shinji.

His film wouldn’t win anything.

He didn’t even know the films that did.

And the whole thing had zero relevance to him.

In fact, he’d have rather been back at the hotel taking a nap.

If he had to say, the closing film was more entertaining than the ceremony itself.

At least it was Chaplin’s timeless classic, Modern Times.

Thus, after enduring an award show that felt more like a prison sentence, the 56th Cannes Film Festival finally drew to a close.

◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

Japan – Fuyuki City – In front of the Matou Residence.

Holding his little sister Illya by the hand, Emiya Shirou stood in front of the Matou household, pressing the doorbell with a look of helplessness.

“Onii-chan, are you sure Shinji onii-chan’s coming back today?”

Illya tilted her head up and asked adorably.

“Yeah, today’s the day,” Shirou replied, scratching his cheek.

“We’re throwing a party to celebrate how well he did at Cannes. Sold the movie for a fat stack, apparently. The problem is… he didn’t say when exactly he’d be back in Fuyuki. Even if his flight was uncertain, he could’ve at least given us a ballpark…”

Ding

“Welcome, Emiya Shirou.”

Shirou straightened up at the sound of a familiar voice.

“Oh, it’s Saber—huh? PFFF—!!!”

The moment he saw Arturia, dressed in a full-blown housemaid uniform, his soul briefly left his body and wandered across dimensions.

Even Illya’s eyes sparkled the moment she saw Saber’s outfit. Her ears twitched like an excited kitten.

“Wow~ So cute! Illya wants to wear that pretty outfit too!”

“Nope, nope, nope! Absolutely not!”

Shirou quickly pulled his little sister back, afraid she’d walk down a path she couldn’t come back from.

Saber, on the other hand, didn’t seem the slightest bit self-conscious.

She stood tall, her expression composed—like this was her actual job.

In perfect maid etiquette, she welcomed the two of them inside.

“Please come in, Shirou, Illyasviel.”

“R-Right… okay…”

Still completely overwhelmed, Shirou quietly followed behind her, forgetting entirely to ask why Saber was dressed like this.

“Emiya Shirou. Illyasviel von Einzbern. Please, make yourselves comfortable in the living room.”

After leading their guests to the living room, Arturia didn’t linger. Without a word, she turned on her heels and walked straight into the kitchen.

Shirou, still not over the whole maid thing, leaned against the doorway and peeked inside—only to see Arturia gracefully stirring a pot with a ladle.

A sharp, spicy aroma wafted out.

Shirou sniffed once—and immediately recognized it.

“…Mapo tofu sauce?”

Utterly lost, Shirou turned to the true master of the house for answers.

“Sakura, what the hell is going on here?!”

But his cries of confusion fell on deaf ears.

“Shut it, senpai. This is the good part.”

Without hesitation, Sakura shoved Shirou aside with practiced efficiency, ensuring he didn’t block her camcorder’s lens.

“This is priceless footage for extorting Onii-sama’s allowance. Don’t get in the way.”

“…What kind of nonsense is this?”

Shirou muttered, now more confused than ever.

“O youth... just be patient and watch.”

“Wait, Kirei?! You're here too—pfft!! What are you even wearing?!”

Shirou did a double spit take as he caught sight of Kotomine Kirei seated calmly at the dining table, dressed like he was about to attend a three-star banquet—complete with a pristine white napkin tied around his neck.

“I am merely undergoing treatment,” Kirei replied flatly, holding a spoon with solemn reverence.

“Oi, you’re drooling.”

Shirou couldn’t even tell where to begin with this level of absurdity.

Back in the kitchen, Arturia glanced over her shoulder and voiced her complaints mid-stir.

“Honestly, saying ‘Mapo tofu cures May blues’—Kirei, aren’t you the one who eats this every single day? Are you even sick?”

She threw a sharp look his way.

“The ingredients are totally normal too… well, except for the mountain of chili peppers. Ugh… it’s so spicy, I’m tearing up...”

“Ow… ugh… my stomach hurts. And my chest… and my arms… no strength…”

Kirei suddenly clutched his stomach and launched into the most deadpan, monotone fake illness Shirou had ever heard.

'This guy… he’s literally faking an illness just to get more mapo tofu?!'

Shirou could only offer a weak, polite smile as he watched the twisted priest play out his pathetic act.

“Now I don’t know whether he just wants to eat mapo tofu, or if what he really wants is to see other people forced to make the mapo tofu he loves so much…”

“He’s flipped some kind of unholy switch. Does Shinji even realize what chaos he’s unleashed?”

A dry, sarcastic voice came from behind. Shirou turned—and found Archer leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, clearly enjoying the show from a safe distance.

“You people seriously aren’t going to explain anything?”

Shirou glared at the peanut gallery.

Archer just smirked.

“Why ruin the fun when things are this entertaining?”

“…You guys…”

Shirou sighed, pressing a hand to his forehead.

He would never—ever—admit out loud that he was actually kind of looking forward to Shinji coming home.

Not a chance.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Sakura was still recording Arturia like a seasoned TV director, giving her cues mid-scene.

“Okay! Now turn to the camera like a newlywed bride and say, ‘Dinner is ready, my love!’”

“Sakura… what’s even the point of all this?”

Arturia raised a skeptical eyebrow.

Sakura replied with a straight face, full of solemn nonsense:

“Come on, Onii-sama’s been gone almost half a month. His May blues must be in critical condition. We need to hit him with the strong stuff!”

“…I see…”

Arturia took a deep breath, then—with the dignity of a knight accepting a solemn quest—lifted the ladle to her face, and mimicked the heroines from Rin’s borrowed shoujo manga.

With cheeks faintly pink, she spoke in the softest voice imaginable.

“Dinner’s ready, my love…”

“YESSS!!”

Sakura pumped her fists in the air like she’d just won the lottery, bursting into gleeful laughter.

“With this footage, Onii-sama’s heart will explode with joy!!”

“Hey, Sakura, aren’t you going to record your own voice in the background too?”

Arturia tried to warn her with a frown, but Sakura was far beyond hearing anything now.

She was lost—deep in a dream world of schemes and blackmail.

“Next… What should I try next? A sexy swimsuit? Hm… no, Saber’s figure’s kinda hopeless for that… Maybe a fancy ball gown… no, no, something like that wouldn’t affect Onii-sama at all…”

As Sakura mumbled at lightspeed to herself, Arturia could only sigh in quiet resignation.

Meanwhile, at the dining table, Kirei Kotomine sat unmoving, silently wiping the drool at the edge of his mouth.

“…Is the mapo tofu… not ready yet?”

The chaos in the Matou household’s kitchen was reaching critical mass when—

Ding-dong!

—the doorbell finally rang.

“I’m home.”

Shinji’s voice echoed through the intercom.

“Master!!”

'Oh no! I forgot the most important patient!!'

Arturia’s ahoge sprang upright like an antenna detecting danger. She practically threw the mapo tofu onto the table and bolted toward the front door with full heroic speed.

Master, hang in there! I’ll heal you—I’ll definitely cure you with love and spice!

When she reached the entrance, she paused, hands neatly placed on her knees, and gave Shinji the smile she’d practiced so many times under Sakura’s brutal coaching.

“Welcome home, Master!”

Shinji blinked.

He hadn’t been expecting that.

Arturia, in a full-blown maid outfit, smiling sweetly at him like a visual novel heroine? Even Shinji was momentarily stunned.

But unlike Shirou, Shinji had seen his fair share of absurdity. After a heartbeat of silence, he casually raised a hand and greeted her cheerfully.

“Arturia. Long time no see. Did you miss me?”

He was in a great mood. After all, he’d just struck gold at Cannes.

Seeing her Master so energetic, Arturia exhaled in obvious relief.

“Thank goodness. It seems your May blues has already been cured.” She smiled as she patted her chest. “I’m glad your magic circuits didn’t collapse.”

“…Huh?”

Shinji gave her a look full of question marks.

“Circuit collapse? Saber, what kind of curse are you muttering now? Do you hate your Master that much?”

“Ah? A-Are?”

Arturia’s ahoge wobbled like a dying signal. The reaction was so adorably confused that Shinji’s brow furrowed on reflex.

“…Okay, spill it. What the hell is going on here?”

Arturia immediately launched into a serious explanation of the fearsome illness known as “May blues.”

And then, she was instantly—and ruthlessly—shut down.

“May blues is not some magic-circuit failure, Saber!” Shinji waved her off with a grin. “And besides, someone as diligent and driven as me doesn’t catch that kind of thing. If anything, Ilya’s more at risk, that little gremlin.”

“……”

Seeing Arturia’s face flush bright red with shame and her entire body freeze with embarrassment, Shinji quickly stopped teasing.

“W-Wait, I didn’t mean it like that— Hold on, what are you doing?”

Without a word, Arturia—still trembling—calmly shut the door in his face.

“Sorry, Master. You might have to wait a while before you’re allowed in.”

Then she turned, face blank, lips smiling but with absolutely no joy, and stormed back into the house.

In one hand, she held the shining golden light of Excalibur.

That day, over the peaceful suburbs of Fuyuki City, a brilliant beam of light pierced the heavens.

Later, official reports stated that it had been caused by a gas leak.

---

If you want to see more chapter of this story and don't mind paying $5 each month to read till the latest posted chapter, please go to my Patreon

Current Chapter In Patreon: Chapter 279: Kariya: I’ll Take Back My Dignity as an Uncle!

Link to the latest chapter: https://www.patreon.com/posts/132010309?collection=31097

https://www.patreon.com/collection/31097?view=expanded