emiya-shirou started following you
"Oh! its the harem boy " The orange haired girl whipped out her notepad."Hello,I’m Hibiki,If theres anything you need,feel free to let me know. Are you waiting for Tohno-san,or will you be eating alone?"
Harem boy?! What the hell is that supposed to mean!?
“I just came in for a drink! Can’t you at least serve a customer without insulting him?!”
1. You making me some hot chocolate
…I didn’t order this. The cat-one of them, at least-said it was on the house.
I’m not coming to this cafe anymore.
19. You trying to share a scarf with me
The old man is in one of those moods again. While this is certainly better than him loafing around like usual, my pride protests greatly. Maybe if I was younger
No, even then, I would die of shame. My adolescence only makes the current situation worse.
For some ungodly reason, Kiritsugu insisted on keeping us both warm with one scarf while we grab groceries. Unfortunately, yelling at him would only make it more embarrassing. And so I am resigned to my fate.
Mr. Claus, you know I’ve never believed in you. I didn’t believe Dad for a second when he told me about you. But, if you really do exist, please, let me forget today happened.
3. You wrapping presents
Nothing quite like the people’s ability to take an act of charity and turn it into a massive marketing ploy. I can’t help but think of the idiotic amounts of capital drawn in only from the tacky decorations the shops have draped themselves in. Still, so long as these items bring a smile to the face of the people around me, I can’t complain.
However, it seems one such person hasn’t caught onto one important part of gift giving: the element of secrecy. In the middle of my living room lies a distraught young girl, battling with tape and wrapping to conceal the selections she’s made from prying eyes. I can’t quiet my chuckle before it works its way out of my throat, sending her almost a foot into the air out of shock. Upon landing, the same mass she’s been struggling with latches on to her.
This year promises to host an interesting penultimate holiday.
3. You making an awful snowman.
The magical conditions were met. Were it a bit warmer, we’d be met with a gloomy downpour. Instead, the whole city is covered in white powder. Naturally, we took the time to enjoy it.
The tiger has now become a snow tiger, content to roll in, make shapes with, and tackle me into its namesake. Tohsaka has constructed her own frosty dictatorship, whose soft artillery is launched at me from the safety of her decidedly soft fortress. Taking the less violent option, my gentle underclassman decided to construct non-animated frost golems to greet those who would pass by our home.
However, it seems I should have spent less time defending myself and more supervising the construction. Shaking the vision blocking snow from face, I find vaguely humanoid, bipedal figures where snowmen should be.
…Poor girl was thinking too literally I suppose. Time to be a hero.
23. You sitting on my knee
Winter is cold as usual. A light veil of frost covers the grass outside to join the wind in its biting aerial assault. Thankfully, the walls of the house and central heating unit within them have all but nullified the old man’s bitter scorn.
Even the kotatsu isn’t necessary to keeping myself warm. My natural resilience to the cold is only strengthened by my usual attire. However, it seems that won’t be the only thing increasing my body temperature.
Without so much as a word, Tohsaka approaches my seat, makes one of her unmistakably devilish grins, and places herself in my lap while facing towards me. After wrapping her arms around my torso, she slides in closer.
I don’t think I need to ask what she wants for a present.
I’ll randomly generate a number from 1-24 to see how my muse reacts to:
- Your muse making mine some hot chocolate
- Your muse wrapped up as a present
- Your muse making an awful snow man
- Your muse asking for help putting up up decorations
- Your muse singing carols
- Your muse hiding mistletoe everywhere
- Your muse hitting mine in the face with a snowball
- Your muse being drunk after all the mistletoe and wine
- Your muse putting out cookies and milk for Santa
- Your muse getting a cold
- Your muse tearing down all the Christmas decor
- Your muse making snow angels
- Your muse eating too many candy canes and getting sick
- Your muse in an ugly holiday sweater
- Your muse forcing mine to wear an ugly sweater
- Your muse wrapping presents
- Your muse making yellow snow
- Your muse trying to catch snowflakes on their tongue
- Your muse trying to share a scarf with mine
- Your muse confessing their love
- Your muse inviting mine to go ice-skating
- Your muse dressing up as santa
- Your muse sitting on my muse’s knee
- Your muse attaching jingle bells to everyone
“Swords. My origin isn’t exactly fine cuisine. Now tell your mother to come get ready for dinner.”
Wakizashi Momoyama Sword
- Dated: 16th Century
- Culture: Japanese
- Medium: steel, iron, gold, lacquer
- Measurements: overall length: 91 cm. Blade lenght: 53 cm
- Attributed to Bishu Osafune Sukesada, Momoyama Period
The blade is a shinogi-zukuri (the most general style for tachi/katana and wakizashi) and it has gunome of nie and nioi with ashi and also has a slight itame (wood grained) hada. The suriage nakago (tang of a shorter blade) comes with one mekugi-ana signed Bishu Osafune Suke (sada), black lacquer saya with aogai karakusa.
The iron tsuba has a kemari and willow signed Shoami Kanenori while the fuchi-kashira (set of hilt collar and butt cap) is a shakudo (a billon of gold and copper - typically 4-10% gold, 96-90% copper - which can be treated to form an indigo/black patina resembling lacquer) with gilt of chrysanthemum and butterflies.
Forcing her hands to unclench, Sakura smoothed her skirt down and silently followed Senpai, her head still bowed. She didn’t look back as Neesan went off in the other direction to do… damage control. There was no other way to describe it.
It’s all my fault. She should never have said anything, even if Niisan would’ve just punished her more harshly later for withholding information. If she hadn’t, they could have continued the way they were supposed to: without anyone knowing, especially Senpai and Neesan. Sakura knew they had both been aware for some time that she occasionally drew Niisan’s ire, but she’d tried so hard to hide it anyway, to not burden anyone else with her problems… and today, finally, she’d failed so spectacularly that she’d never be able to cover it up. Nothing would ever be the same again, and that terrified her.
"Ah—" Sakura nearly jumped out of her skin as the sudden warmth of Senpai’s jacket settled on her shoulders, turning to stare at him with wide eyes as he wrapped an arm around her. "S-Senpai…?"
“Sakura, I’m sorry. All I want to do is help you. Please, let me.”
She couldn’t believe it. Niisan’s invective had been blessedly nonspecific, but still foul enough that its implicit meaning would be clear to anyone who took a moment to think about it. There was no way Senpai could still accept her after learning that. He should be turning away from her in disgust, so why, why was he looking at her like that, serious and concerned, clearly earnest?
"…A-all right," Sakura finally responded, her voice barely above a whisper, and pulled his jacket tighter around her.
It wouldn’t last, she knew already, but she’d selfishly enjoy it while she could.
Being a superhero isn’t an easy task. For the longest time, I didn’t even understand what it meant. Now, I know it means doing whatever I can to help the people around me smile. However, even that hasn’t solved all of my problems.
Here, punishing the wicked will only cause further strife. As a tool made for reproducing blades, beating up bad guys is always what’s come naturally. Unfortunately, that’s only made Sakura cry.
It’s obvious Shinji’s done more than hurt her. I don’t know when he crossed the line or what line he crossed, but I know I should have done something to stop it. How could I be so blind to the pain in her chest she’s been carrying? No one suffer like this, especially not someone so kindhearted and innocent as her.
I wish I could do more than this halfhearted gesture of comfort; that there were some way I could bring out the bright, beautiful young woman who would so selflessly come to my aid without request. It hurts me that she might never show that face again. What’s worse is that Tohsaka clearly cares about her as much as I do, if not more. Whatever happens, I have to find a way to help Sakura smile again.
We carry on in silence out of the entrance of the hospital with my arm still around my trembling underclassman. It’s far too soon to ask her about what she’s been through and would more than likely only worsen the situation. Before we can get her to open up, we need to place her in a safe environment, and my home is the best bet.
The walk isn’t short at this speed. If I were on my own, even without strengthening my legs, it would have taken me approximately fifteen minutes. Escorting Sakura requires we both travel at a deliberate gait. Navigating the streets together closes off a few routes I could have navigated alone but, we reach our destination nonetheless. Allowing her to keep my jacket wrapped around her, I quickly move to the kitchen and brew some tea for the both of us.
“Is there anything I can do for you? Anything at all, just name it.”
It had been one thing when I had accidentally created a situation where our future children could speak to us. It was only natural that Shirou had jumped in beside me. He wouldn’t let me deal with a crazy situation, even one of my own making, by myself.
But this time he had replicated the conditions by himself. I thought that Shirou didn’t want to be a father - I though he was terrified by it.
What if I was wrong?
What if he really wanted children? Why else would he seek them out?
I don’t think I’m ready for children. Getting married was one thing, but children? We can’t have them in the Carnival. How would we explain them when it finally ended?
…but look at how Kiritsugu responded to them. Look how Shirou responded to them.
"If it would make him happy…"
Seems I’m not the only one lost in thought. Tohsaka is clearly pondering something intensely. At this point, I’m surprised she hasn’t put on her glasses yet. Better snap her out of it.
…No response. This is fairly normal for her when she gets like this. Only one way to get through to her.
“Tohsaka…? Tohsaka. Tohsaka!”
“I hear it’s a magical place.”