Reborn in Type-Moon: Starting by Adopting Sakura - Chapter 40

The sun found its way through Sakura's curtains, drawing a thin line of light across her sheets. 7:28 AM on the nightstand clock.

She was already awake. Had been for a few minutes, actually, just lying there in that space between sleep and the day. The air had that autumn bite to it now, the kind that made you want to pull the covers higher but also somehow made you feel more alive.

Sakura sat up and pushed the blanket away. She should have been grateful. Irisviel cared about her, really cared. Made sure she ate breakfast, got enough sleep, had everything she needed. It was more love than most people got in a lifetime.

So why did it sometimes feel like drowning?

She wanted thirty more minutes. Just thirty. But she knew better than that now.

Sakura looked at the clock again and started counting down in her head. Three. Two. One.

The footsteps came right on schedule, heels clicking against the hardwood in the hallway.

Three soft knocks.

"Sakura? Time to get up, sweetheart."

"I'm awake, Iri-oneechan," Sakura called back.

If she didn't answer, Iri-oneechan would knock again. Then she'd use those thin metal threads of hers to slip the lock and come in anyway, probably yanking the blanket clean off and letting the cold air rush in like some kind of wake-up call from hell.

Locking the door was pointless. Those silver threads could get through anything, and Sakura had learned it was better to just get up on her own than deal with the alternative.

Still, she had to admit—compared to Manaka with her perfect smile and perfect manners, Iri-oneechan was easier to be around.

"Wait, you're already up?"

The voice outside her door carried surprise, maybe even disappointment. Like Irisviel had been looking forward to her little morning routine.

It was Sunday, though the days all blended together anyway. They'd planned to go out together—something about Meiji Shrine.

Sakura opened the door. Irisviel stood there with that bright smile, looking like she'd stepped out of a snow globe, all crystalline perfection.

"Good morning, Sakura."

"Morning," Sakura said, still rubbing sleep from her eyes.

"Go get ready. We'll eat breakfast and then head to the shrine."

Irisviel sounded like a kid the night before a field trip, barely able to contain herself.

Originally, they’d planned on Yoyogi Park. The autumn leaves would be perfect right now—all gold and orange, making everything look like a painting. But then someone mentioned there was going to be a wedding at Meiji Shrine today, and both Irisviel and Manaka suddenly became weirdly interested.

Funny how they'd been getting along better lately. Actually talking to each other instead of just existing in the same space. Maybe living together really did break down walls, eventually.

After breakfast, everyone got ready. Manaka chose a soft green dress with matching socks. Irisviel went with a purple sweater under a white coat, black tights, heels that probably cost more than most people's rent. She looked like she was headed to a magazine shoot.

Artoria wore a suit, as always. The fabric of her white shirt straining against the buttons. She tugged at her collar, loosening it, but it didn't seem to help much.

Yuu was loading bags into the trunk when Manaka and Irisviel both reached for the passenger door handle at the same time. Their hands brushed. They looked at each other.

The temperature seemed to drop ten degrees.

Irisviel smiled first. "Manaka, the back seat's probably more comfortable for you."

"That's sweet of you to worry," Manaka said, not moving her hand. "But I always sit up front with Sensei."

"Really? Because every time Yuu and I go anywhere, this is my spot."

"That's only because I wasn't here."

"Funny, I could ask you the same thing."

Their voices stayed perfectly pleasant. Both women kept smiling.

Sakura looked between them for a moment, then quietly slipped into the back seat. She smoothed her skirt and turned toward the window, watching the whole thing play out like a movie she'd seen before.

The two women kept talking, their breath visible in the cold air, mixing together in little clouds that disappeared as quickly as they formed.

The trunk slammed shut. Both Manaka and Irisviel turned toward Yuu at the same time.

"Lancer, you take the front," he said, not even looking at the other two. "You're too big for the back anyway."

Artoria paused mid-chew on whatever she was eating—some kind of dried squid—and blinked. She was tall, sure, and built like she could bench press a car, but calling a woman "too big" seemed like the kind of thing you weren't supposed to say out loud.

Then Yuu handed her a bag of chips and she shrugged, stepping past Manaka and Irisviel like they weren't even there. The seatbelt barely fit around her, disappearing somewhere against her chest.

Manaka and Irisviel looked at each other one more time, then took their places on either side of Sakura without another word.

The engine turned over, exhaust puffing white in the morning air.

They were off.

…

"It's been a while since we all went out like this," Yuu said, eyes on the road ahead.

Artoria tore open her chip bag and started eating without comment.

"It really has," Manaka said from the back seat. "You've been locked in that workshop all summer. What were you working on, Sensei?"

"Research. Hit a dead end, though. Figured getting out might help."

"Maybe I could help? If you want to talk about it."

Yuu didn't answer right away. Manaka noticed Irisviel's face go pink in the seat beside her. ‘Why is she blushing?’

"Sorry I've been so absent," he said finally. "I kept meaning to take everyone to the beach this summer. Then I looked up and it was almost November."

The tension in the car seemed to ease a little.

"That's okay," Manaka said, and meant it. "We have next year. The year after that. Lots of summers ahead."

"Yeah," he agreed.

"Next summer we should all go together," Sakura added quietly.

All of us. Together.

Next year.

Manaka glanced sideways at Irisviel. Irisviel was looking out her own window.

The car went quiet.

"Yeah," Yuu said, his voice softer now. "Next year, let's all go to the beach."

…

Over Tokyo, clouds had gathered thick and gray. Rain began to fall in fine threads, each drop catching what little light remained of the afternoon. Autumn had arrived without announcement, the way seasons do—sudden and complete. Against the workshop window, rain traced thin rivers down the glass.

Yesterday, they had walked the paths of Meiji Shrine. The wedding they'd hoped to see had already ended, leaving only scattered petals and the lingering scent of incense. Yuu had shrugged it off, mentioned other ceremonies, other chances. Irisviel said nothing. She'd stopped beneath a maple tree, red leaves bright against the gray sky, and Yuu had watched her watch them fall.

Now he sat alone in his workshop, surrounded by half-finished equations and scattered notes.

The change of scenery hadn't cleared his mind the way he'd hoped. The soul interception problem remained—stubborn as a locked door. All summer's work had brought him close: he could craft a Lesser Grail from base materials, shape it, give it form. But the soul fragments of defeated Servants would still drift toward the original, toward the Einzbern creation. His Grail would sit empty, useless.

Studying Irisviel and the Dress of Heaven had taught him the mechanics, but not the deeper current that pulled souls toward their destination.

He leaned back in his chair. "Maybe I need to see the Greater Grail itself."

In the Einzbern workshop, months ago, he'd found a leather-bound notebook tucked between dusty tomes. The "Winter Maiden," it had called her—Justeaze Lizrich von Einzbern, the heart of the Greater Grail that the Three Families had forged. She'd become the furnace, the core that drew everything toward it.

The notebook had mentioned a place: Mount Enzō, in Fuyuki.

He'd have to go there. Study the source itself.

Yuu stared out at the horizon, his mind churning like a washing machine stuck on spin cycle. By now, that mountain was probably crawling with magi ready to tear each other apart. Just another Tuesday in the world of the Holy Grail War.

He should have figured this out weeks ago. But hindsight was just another way to torture yourself, wasn't it? Plans never survived contact with reality anyway. Still, the timing couldn't be worse. Fuyuki during the Grail War meant running into people he'd rather pretend didn't exist.

Especially since he'd heard Kayneth was in the mix this time.

Honestly, Yuu would have been perfectly happy never thinking about Kayneth again. They used to be friends—or at least, the Clock Tower version of friends, where you collaborated on research and pretended to enjoy each other's company at academic functions. Everything had been fine until that afternoon at the café.

When Miss Saijou had mentioned Kayneth's name while he was examining Iskandar's cloak, Yuu had actually frozen. Because suddenly he was back on that terrace, watching Sola-Ui Nuada-Re Sophia-Ri walk up to their table with an enormous bouquet of red roses.

She'd handed them to him. Right there. In front of Kayneth.

Yuu could still see Kayneth's face in perfect, excruciating detail: the way all the color had drained out of it before flooding back in a distinctly green shade that had nothing to do with the lighting.

He had always known Sola had a thing for him, but it was the most surface-level attraction imaginable—the kind where someone likes your jawline more than your personality.

He'd learned the rest of the story later from May Riddell Archelot, who had a talent for knowing everyone's business. Sola hadn't inherited her family's crest, which meant she'd been raised like a prize heifer, groomed specifically for whatever political marriage would benefit her family most. And lucky her—they'd picked Kayneth. The same Kayneth who'd been sitting across from Yuu that afternoon, probably thinking about how nice it was to have a quiet cup of tea with a friend.

Yuu rubbed his temples.

It wasn't like Kayneth was trying to be subtle about the Holy Grail War. Word had already made it to the Tokyo Mage Association, and when you're one of the Twelve Lords of the Clock Tower, people notice when you so much as sneeze. Every conversation, every travel plan, every dinner reservation probably got dissected by someone.

Kayneth wasn't hiding his intentions because he didn't need to. For him, the Grail War was probably just another line item on his already impressive CV. Win or lose, he'd still be Lord El-Melloi, and that was really all that mattered.

There were plenty of things about the Clock Tower that Yuu would be perfectly happy never thinking about again. But Fuyuki wasn't optional anymore. The Holy Grail War was basically a gladiator match between magi, and Yuu had to keep reminding himself that his specialty was research, not getting his face punched in.

Still, he couldn't just leave Irisviel hanging. Sakura would be fine back in Tokyo with Manaka keeping an eye on her, but Irisviel was a different story entirely.

The whole "omnipotent" Grail thing had always struck him as overselling, anyway. Could it really grant something completely absurd like turning every woman in the world into his personal fantasy? The logistics alone seemed impossible.

If something could actually grant any wish—truly any wish—then it wasn't just magecraft anymore. It was capital-M Magic, the kind that bent reality in ways that shouldn't be possible no matter how much time or effort you threw at the problem.

Yuu suspected the "omnipotent" Grail had some pretty significant fine print.

Either way, he had work to do.

He settled into his chair and activated what he'd always called Item Record—basically turning his mind into a very sophisticated filing cabinet. He could scan an object, absorb every detail about it, and store that information in perfect clarity. It was like having a library in his head, except infinitely more organized than any library had a right to be.

Because here's the thing about mage combat: amateurs threw around flashy spells, but the professionals played chess. Information was everything. Know a little more than your opponent, and you'd already won half the battle.

In a war involving Heroic Spirits, that advantage could mean the difference between victory and becoming a footnote in someone else's legend. Figure out a Servant's true identity fast enough, and suddenly you had a roadmap to all their strengths and weaknesses.

No matter how legendary they were, Servants still answered to their magi. Which meant the real game was always between the people pulling the strings.

…

As autumn started winding down, Yuu broke the news to Manaka and Sakura: he'd be out of Tokyo for a while.

Both girls immediately volunteered to come along, because of course they did. But this wasn't some weekend getaway—people were going to be trying to kill each other. Taking them into that mess wasn't just stupid, it was borderline criminal. So he shut that down fast.

To make up for disappointing them, he agreed to grant each of them one small favor. Manaka handed him a protective charm and made him promise to keep it with him. Sakura's request was simpler: she wanted him to stay with her tonight, just holding her hand while she slept. Yuu suspected she was still worried about things that went bump in the night.

...

That night, the autumn moon hung over Akihabara like something out of a movie.

By the 1990s, you wouldn’t see a soul on the streets past ten, leaving everything quiet and still.

Manaka had claimed the spot by the window, chin in her hands, staring up at the moon with that distant look she got sometimes. The moonlight caught her face just right, turning her into something ethereal and untouchable. Her eyes were fixed on the sky, and Yuu had no idea what was going on behind them.

In the next room, Sakura had already drifted off in her silk pajamas, still clutching his hand with a contented smile.

Yuu sat propped against the headboard, letting a bit of cool air under the blanket before closing his eyes and slipping into meditation.

Then—zzzt.

Something flickered across his consciousness like a radio trying to find a station. A connection formed for just a second, then vanished.

Images flashed through his mind, too quick and blurry to make sense of. But in the mess of fragments, he caught something: light. An endless ocean of it, and somehow, impossibly, a coffin floating in the middle.

The flashes didn't feel like dreams or memories. They felt like information, like someone had tried to download something directly into his brain.

Yuu's eyes flew open. "What the hell was that?"