Chaldea is a strange place where heroic spirits from all across history gather to protect the world. Master Ritsuka Fujimaru wakes up one morning to find their pillow missing, the cafeteria transformed into a battlefield, and Dr. Roman cheerfully announcing that there's absolutely nothing scheduled for the day.
A free day. Finally.
Except it really, really isn't.
Artoria Pendragon shows up with a deadly serious expression to request that Ritsuka 'guard the cake.' Emiya starts cooking lunch fo
A Lively Day at Chaldea - Everyone Gather! The Sports Day Executive Committee Chairperson is Currently Critically Injured
Freed from the cake chaos, Fujimaru Ritsuka finally reached noon.
Stepping over the Servants scattered across the hallway—casualties of Scathach's training—they headed toward the dining hall. They'd heard last night had been quite the commotion. They weren't sure what state things would be in.
They opened the door.
Emiya was there.
Wearing a white apron, sleeves rolled up, standing in the kitchen entrance like a guardian statue. His 178-centimeter silhouette, backlit by the kitchen, had an oddly commanding presence. His reddish-brown eyes looked their way.
"You came"
"Oh. Yeah, I did"
"Perfect timing. Help me"
"I just came to eat..."
Emiya had already turned back.
"Making for everyone. Check the ingredients"
No one asked him to. He made for everyone anyway. That was Emiya. Ritsuka already knew this. They also knew stopping him was pointless.
The refrigerator swung open forcefully.
Silence.
"……"
Three seconds passed.
"Nothing"
"Ah... from last night's chaos"
"Shelves empty too"
He opened the shelves. Two cans.
"Two. Two cans for everyone at Chaldea. What am I supposed to do with this"
Ritsuka quietly took a step back. He was angry. This was angry.
Emiya sighed. Long. Deep. Then he retied his apron strings.
"……There's a storage room on the fourth basement level"
"I know. I went yesterday"
"We're going. You're coming too"
"Me?"
"Can't carry it alone. ……Please"
Just those last two words—his voice dropped slightly.
(He can say "please"?)
Ritsuka answered, a little surprised: "Got it."
---
Thirty seconds into walking the hallway, they stopped.
There was an obstacle.
A gorgeous golden sofa sat in the middle of the corridor. Over two meters long, fabric unlike anything they'd seen before, the legs carved to resemble a lion's claws. On that sofa, long golden hair spread out, the ancient king of Uruk was napping sprawled out.
It was Gilgamesh.
"……Don't put that in the hallway"
"We can't get through"
The moment they both moved right to go around.
"Come, Master"
Eyes still closed.
"Huh?"
"My chambers"
"I'm heading to the storage room right now——"
"I said come to my chambers"
Emiya tapped Ritsuka's shoulder. "Go on. I'll get the materials first," he said quietly. His voice sounded almost amused.
Ritsuka had no choice but to head to Gilgamesh's room.
---
The moment they opened the door, Ritsuka thought they'd entered the wrong room.
Three rooms' worth of space. Golden shelves from floor to ceiling. On the shelves, collections they couldn't quite identify—urns, stone tablets, small sculptures, and... for some reason, Ritsuka's pillow.
(It really was here...)
While they were internally complaining, Gilgamesh was sprawled on a sofa in the center of the room—even bigger than the hallway one—already here somehow.
"This 'sports festival' you speak of. I shall participate"
"You're going to?"
"However, I refuse tedious events. Prepare a special competition befitting my majesty"
"A special competition? What kind?"
"You decide. Something that displays my dignity"
"You're basically throwing all of this at me..."
"Do not defy me"
With that, he closed his eyes. His breathing deepened into sleep.
Asleep in seconds.
Ritsuka left the room. In the hallway, slumped against the wall, they muttered toward nothing: "A special competition..."
Nothing came to mind.
---
They hurried down the hallway toward the storage room.
Their feet stopped around the corner.
Scathach was there.
Queen of the Shadow Realm, master of martial arts. Her deep reddish-purple hair tied back, standing in the center of the hallway in training clothes. Around her, four junior Servants lined up doing push-ups against the wall. In the hallway.
"Don't rest. Stop and it's fifty more"
The Servants continued, trembling. Ritsuka tried to turn back.
"You there, Master"
"……Yes?"
"Don't run"
"I have urgent business at the storage room——"
"Ten minutes. Get in line"
Ten minutes. By Servant standards.
Fifty push-ups. Fifty sit-ups. Ten round-trip sprints down the hallway.
Ritsuka was given the same routine as the Servants, at the same pace. On the fourth sprint, their legs tangled. On the sixth, their vision blurred. After the eighth turn, their legs stopped.
They couldn't stop. Their hand hit the hallway wall, and they slid down. Knees hit the floor. Slowly, their cheek touched the cold ground.
Cold. So cold.
"Stand"
"……Just a moment"
"Servants don't wait. Neither do you"
"I'm not a Servant though..."
"I know. That's why I train you"
The logic had come full circle.
Ritsuka somehow got up. They ran the last two sprints. Their arms were shaking. They ran anyway.
When it ended, they knelt on the floor again. Scathach calmly gave instructions to the junior Servants.
---
"Everyone!"
The voice from down the hallway was bright and clear.
Jeanne d'Arc approached at a light jog. Her flax-colored long hair swayed. Her blue eyes shone. Her expression was a full smile. Goodness incarnate walking in human form.
Ritsuka looked up from their knees.
"The director of the Chaldea Goodwill Grand Sports Festival has been decided!"
Three Servants remaining in the hallway clapped.
Ritsuka had a bad feeling.
"It's Fujimaru Ritsuka!"
"I didn't agree to this"
"Master can do it. Absolutely. A wonderful event where everyone becomes closer——"
"Wait, I'm supposed to have today off——"
"Everyone's looking forward to it!"
Jeanne clasped her hands together, looking straight at Ritsuka. There was no malice in those eyes. Absolutely none. That was the problem. They couldn't get angry.
Their communication terminal vibrated.
"——Ah, Ritsuka."
Romani Archaman's voice. Chaldea's medical chief, a man with a somewhat fluffy way of speaking. Even through the terminal, his warmth came through.
"I'm in favor of the sports festival too. It's a nice day off, and everyone seems excited about it. I'm counting on you, Ritsuka"
The communication cut off.
Ritsuka, still on their knees, looked up at the ceiling.
Their escape route had vanished.
---
The training grounds—the simulation room on the first basement level—had a single folding chair in the corner.
Ritsuka sat there.
A stack of memo papers on their lap. A pen in hand. Event requests from the Servants kept piling up.
"Do a ball toss."
"Cavalry battles are the standard."
"I wish to observe from the stands."
"I will not participate in competitions lacking training value."
The Servants made their requests and left. Not one offered to help. Only Ritsuka wrote the documents. In Ritsuka's handwriting.
Event proposals, team divisions, equipment lists, schedules. All of it.
Their legs still ached from Scathach's training. Their right arm was sore. The neck pain from yesterday hadn't gone away.
Footsteps approached the storage room. Emiya.
Food bags in both hands, he stood at the edge of the training grounds. He took in the mountain of documents and Ritsuka slumped in the center in a single glance.
He said nothing. He sighed.
He came to Ritsuka's side and crossed his arms.
"……Can't be helped"
"Yeah"
"I'll make the lunch boxes. That's all. Don't thank me"
He turned away. But his ears were slightly red.
"……Thank you"
Emiya didn't answer. But he didn't leave.
For a while, they were both silent. From far across the training grounds, the faint sound of Servants laughing. They were talking about the sports festival. They sounded happy. Really happy.
Ritsuka set down their pen.
They looked at the mountain of documents. Papers filled with their own handwriting.
They looked at the ceiling.
(Why does this have to be me...)
They muttered it silently. It didn't become sound.
No pillow. No rest. No strength like the Servants. No special magical talent. Nothing. Just swept up, tossed around, exhausted. It's been like this since coming to Chaldea.
——Do I even have a reason to be here?
The words spilled from their mouth without becoming sound.
Today, for the first time, their real thoughts.
Words they hadn't told anyone.
The training grounds' lights flickered slightly. Something might be happening somewhere in the facility. The Servants might already be moving in preparation for tomorrow's festival.
Either way, the documents in Ritsuka's hands wouldn't decrease.
Emiya was still there. Standing without saying anything.
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