Chapter 33: Sweet little boy… Let’s get you outside soon

Every story must end.
Whether that ending is happy or tragic is for the reader to decide.
Most readers dwell on the fate of the protagonist, judging if it is a happy ending or a sad one.

But the protagonist is not the only one who lives and breathes within a story—there are heroines, companions, and, of course… enemies.

Even if the protagonist’s ending is happy, there is no guarantee the others share that fate.
Especially the antagonist—more often than not, their story ends in tragedy. Their dreams shattered, their lives stolen.

“If this were a classic heroic fantasy, the protagonist would, without a doubt, be Emiya.
The heroine… unfortunately, wouldn’t be my sister—it’d be that second-rate copy of Artoria.
And the villains… well, that’s us.”

Shinji, lounging on the living room sofa, murmured to Rider, who stood beside him.

“No matter how hard they try, the hero and the villain can never be happy at the same time. It’s as if the world itself insists on it.”

On the low table in front of the sofa sat something resembling a chessboard. But the pieces on it were not chessmen.

There was one piece for each of the seven Servant classes of the Holy Grail War, along with seven pawn-like pieces.

On the board, two forces glared at each other. There was no time left for idle worry.

“…Maybe it’s about time I stopped hesitating.”

There was only one lingering doubt in his heart.
If he could just sweep that away, victory would be within his grasp.

“Rider… will you follow me?”

“…I will accompany you, Shinji. To the very end.”

“Really… you’ve got some nerve calling Saber incompetent.”

Opening the sliding door to the veranda to leave the room, Rin found Illya standing there, looking exasperated, while Saber had begun making breakfast behind them.

“If anyone’s incompetent, it’s the both of us…”

“Oh, shut it, Illyasviel. The moment we started depending entirely on the ‘charity’ of Caster—our enemy, no less—we lost the right to criticize Saber. I know that…”

“Then stop taking it out on her. Saber’s already in a precarious state. The last thing she needs is you shaking her up and breaking her spirit.”

Rin bit her lip. Illya was right—what she’d just done was nothing more than petty venting.

Archer’s death.
Sakura, turned into Makiri’s Holy Grail.
The Einzbern, who ruined her wish for the Grail.

No matter how strong her will, Rin was still human. She could not be untouched by anger and hatred. Her heart was in shambles.

And most of all, what ate away at her was her own incompetence.
She was a master of the five great elements, head of the Tohsaka family, caretaker of Fuyuki.
Grand titles, all meaningless now.

She had neither the combat skill to cross swords with Servants like Bazett Fraga McRemitz, nor the cunning to weave schemes like Caster.

Caster and Saber were the linchpins of this alliance. Shirou was needed to support Saber. Illya had to remain here as the “Holy Grail.”

Only Rin’s presence—or absence—made no difference at all. Her role could be replaced by Caster or Illya at any moment.

And yet, she clung to this place, fully aware of the danger. Why?
Because she was looking for a target for her anger—anger with nowhere else to go.

“…Sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I’ll go cool my head.”
“Rin…”

Illya sighed at Rin, who was being swept along by her own emotions.

“Honestly, you’re such trouble…”

Rin had lost sight of her own worth. The presence of a great magus like Caster had shaken her foundation.

Having a perfect superior at your side could work for you—or against you.
For Rin, right now, it was working against her.

“…And I’d finally thought of something, too.”

If Rin hadn’t been in this state, she could have unveiled a plan that might overturn their situation in an instant.
But with her like this, it couldn’t be put into action.

They needed to restore her usual confidence.

“If only Archer were still here…”

If he had lived, Rin would never have fallen this far.

But there was no point wishing for what couldn’t be.
Frowning, Illya considered how to bring Rin back to herself.

“I have to do something…”
“Is something troubling you?”

That voice made her look up—and her expression stiffened.

“…Kuzuki Souichirou.”

Caster’s Master.
The man who, surprise attack or not, had once thrown Artoria to the ground.

A teacher at the high school Shirou and Rin attended, but far too much of an enigma for Illya’s liking—she regarded him with open suspicion.

Unfazed by her wariness, Souichirou spoke again.

“You seemed troubled. If necessary, I can offer advice.”

“…Advice? From you?”

Illya narrowed her eyes at him, dubious. Souichirou calmly looked down at her.

“It is a teacher’s duty to counsel his students.”

“I’m fairly sure I’m not one of your students.”

“If my concern is unwelcome, then I apologize.”

Illya stared at him for a moment, then gave a small sigh.

“…Well, there’s no point in doubting you now, is there?”

With a graceful gesture, she lifted the hem of her skirt and gave a deep bow.

“I would be most grateful for your assistance… sensei.”

“Good morning, boy.”

When I opened my eyes, the witch was there.

I was so startled I couldn’t form words. My mouth opened and closed like a fish, and Caster let out a small chuckle.

“I didn’t come here to pull some wake-up prank on you, so calm yourself.”

The fact that she even knew the phrase “wake-up prank” was surprising, but for now, Shirou took a deep breath.

“Uh… do you need something?”

Judging from her demeanor, there wasn’t an emergency.

“I just thought we should talk about what comes next.”

“What comes next…?”

Caster began explaining to Shirou exactly what Rin had told Saber.

“…Sakura… is the Holy Grail…?”

That fact shook him more than anything.
Given that Sakura was a daughter of the Matou household, he should have considered the possibility—but until now, it had never crossed his mind that she might be involved in the Holy Grail War.

Because to him, she was a precious piece of his everyday life—family.

“I—I have to go help her…!”

Shirou tried to get up in a rush, but Caster stopped him.

“What are you doing!? We have to go—Sakura—!”

“Calm down. If you make a wrong move now, it’ll trigger the final battle with the Makiri. And in our current state, we’d be at a disadvantage. Do you want to get Saber and the others killed?”

“Th—that’s… but still—!”

He had been right there, closer to her than anyone, and yet he hadn’t noticed what she was going through.

If Sakura was suffering, there was no way he could just sit back.

“She’s family!”

Shirou pleaded with Caster. If she was in pain, he had to save her.

“No.”

Caster’s refusal was flat and cold.

“At the very least, we can’t break this current balance.”
“But…!”
“Calm yourself, Emiya Shirou. One way or another, the fight with the Makiri is inevitable. And when it happens, Matou Sakura will appear. Whether you save her or destroy her, you’ll need power to stand against the Makiri’s forces.”

As he was now, he couldn’t do either.

“Then… what should I do?”
“You need to gain power. And you need it immediately.”
“How…?”
“There’s one quick way to make you stronger. But it—”
“Tell me what to do! If it makes me stronger, I’ll do anything—!”

As Shirou leaned in, Caster spoke quietly.

“You’ll relive Archer’s past.”
“Relive… his past?”

When Shirou tilted his head, Caster elaborated.

“Before, I showed you his past in the form of a dream. This time, you’ll live it as if you were him. But it’s dangerous—very dangerous. If you’re not careful, Archer’s personality could swallow your own, just as Saber, in his dream, was nearly consumed by Artoria’s.”

“A-And… that would make me stronger?”

“There are magecraft techniques that allow you to summon and possess your past self, inheriting its skills. This is a variation on that. I’ll take the experience I preserved from the Heroic Spirit EMIYA and pour it into you, his counterpart. It should enhance not just your combat ability, but many other aspects as well.”

“…Alright. Then let’s do it right now.”

For some reason, Caster’s expression turned irritated at his quick acceptance.

“Caster…?”

“I figured you’d say that, but I thought you’d hesitate a bit more.”

“…Huh? What are you getting at?”

“Knowing full well how Archer’s life was steeped in regret… you do realize you might be making Saber feel the same way, don’t you?”

Shirou nodded.

“Yeah. If my personality gets overwritten by Archer’s, Saber will be sad. I’m sure of it.”

Because he knew—Saber truly loved him.

“That’s exactly why—I’ll come back as myself, no matter what.”

Shirou spoke firmly.

“I’ll never do anything that would make Saber sad. No matter how reckless it is, I’ll see it through, and in the end… I’ll make sure she’s smiling.”

“…I see. So this isn’t a decision made by throwing yourself away.”

“Yeah. Because making her sad would be doing exactly that. I love Saber. That’s why I’ll never do something she hates. I’ve made up my mind.”

At those words, Caster couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“—Good. Right now, you really are good. Not quite on Souichirou-sama’s level, but a fine man all the same. Now, steel yourself. Archer’s past is anything but gentle. It’s like walking through a swamp full of filth while swallowing lead, while the fires of hell scorch you without end. His grief and his rage will become yours, and they will try to swallow you whole.”

“I understand. If that’s what it takes to protect Saber and save Sakura, then so be it.”

“In that case, at least eat the breakfast Saber made for you first. A meal full of her love will make you feel like you have to come back no matter what, won’t it?”

“…Yeah. You’re right.”

Deep in the earth, in a place thick with the stench of rot, a girl smiled.

“—It’ll be born soon.”

Her belly was round and swollen. She gently stroked it, almost rocking it.

From his place in the shadows, Assassin held his breath, slightly startled by the sight.

The woman before him looked far different from the one he’d seen right after he’d been summoned into Sasaki Kojirou’s body.

Her grotesquely distended belly contrasted sharply with the rest of her body, which had withered thin, as if shrunken. Her face was gaunt, her bones nearly jutting through the skin. Her complexion—never good to begin with—had worsened further.

Most likely, whatever was inside her was constantly draining her life force.

That’s a human… and at the same time, something else entirely.

He didn’t fully understand why she had conceived such a thing. But he could guess.

The cause was the death of Matou Zouken. Until then, Zouken had been controlling Sakura. With him gone, she had apparently become capable of pregnancy.

Her age had never been the issue—it had always been possible. But every time she took in a man’s seed, she would convert all of it into magical energy. That, she had stopped doing.

Without being converted into magical energy, the sperm had fused with one of Sakura’s eggs, becoming a fertilized embryo. That much could explain the pregnancy.

But Zouken had died only a few days ago, and yet Sakura’s body already looked like that of a woman about to give birth.

The identity of the sperm’s owner was also unknown. It was certainly not Shinji—he treated Sakura only as his sister, and though that didn’t stop him from lusting, he had never actually touched her.

Nor had there been any intercourse with anyone else. Since Zouken’s death, all the human sacrifices had been taken into Sakura through “meals” alone. The only sexual acts she had engaged in recently were limited to solitary play with the aid of worms.

“Soon, my little boy.”

The dreamy expression on her face struck Assassin as… off.

The boy who served as her master had described her as broken. But was this truly the face of a broken woman?

It was certainly tinged with madness. Yet most women, in truth, carried a trace of madness hidden deep inside, behind a thick mask.

The hysterical woman. The one with sticky fingers. The one who blames others for everything. To single out such women as special cases is a mistake.

They say women are creatures of mystery—of bewitchment. All women carry that side within them. The only difference lies in how cunningly they can hide it.

Shinji had seen her madness and decided she was broken. But this woman—

“Sweet little boy… Let’s get you outside soon.”