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 - Sports day, total rampage! I told you Noble Phantasms are forbidden!
Ritsuka couldn't quite remember the night before.
Making the program schedule, deciding the order of events, figuring out team divisions, writing the equipment list. Sitting on a folding pipe chair in the corner of the training grounds, dawn had broken before they knew it. When they looked up, the wall clock in the control room was pointing at six.
It wasn't that they couldn't sleep—they'd completely lost the timing for it.
Standing in the center of the training grounds—the simulation room on the first basement level—Ritsuka held the program schedule in both hands. Their eyes felt heavy. The edges of their vision blurred slightly. But today was the sports festival. They were the only executive committee chair.
(I just have to do this. Well, it'll work out somehow.)
They brushed back their black short hair and took a deep breath.
---
"Now, the first event——ball toss begins!"
Jeanne d'Arc's voice echoed through the training grounds. Her flax-colored hair swayed as she raised both hands with a smile. Her blue eyes gleamed. She was pure goodwill incarnate.
Altria Pendragon stepped forward quietly. Her long golden hair rippled. Her clear blue eyes fixed on the basket installed in the training grounds ceiling—fifteen meters high. Her expression grew increasingly serious.
"Fair and square, with honor."
She held the ball in both hands. She took her stance.
"Um, Altria, that's a little——"
Too late.
CRASH!!
The ball flew at supersonic speed. It hit the basket. The basket itself was driven into the ceiling. Cracks spider-webbed across the ceiling panel, and fragments scattered down.
"The basket... disappeared."
"Hmph. It went in."
"No, the whole basket flew away!?"
Ritsuka wrote on the first line of the program schedule in red pen.
《Ball toss → basket and ceiling destroyed. Cancelled》
Then Scáthach walked out quietly. The Queen of the Shadow Country, her deep reddish-purple hair tied back. Still in her training clothes, she held something in her right hand.
Ritsuka saw it. A spear.
"I will verify my throwing accuracy."
"That's a spear! Not a ball!"
Jeanne lunged and grabbed Scáthach's arm. Scáthach didn't seem bothered at all.
"A ball is insufficient."
"Insufficient is not the issue!!"
On the opposite side of the training grounds, a golden sofa suddenly appeared. Gilgamesh lounged upon it with ease. His long hair, two-toned gold and red, spread across the sofa's back. His sharp crimson eyes glanced briefly at where the basket had been.
"My ball must be golden, or I shall not deign to touch it. I have no interest in handling the same ball as you mongrels."
"We don't have a ball like that!!"
"Do not defy me."
He leaned back into the sofa and closed his eyes. Completely in spectator mode now.
Ritsuka took a deep breath. They filled their lungs with air and shouted.
"Noble Phantasms are forbidden! Noble Phantasms are absolutely forbidden!!"
At that moment, fragments fell from the ceiling cracks with a crash, completely drowning out Ritsuka's voice.
None of the Heroic Spirits heard them.
---
The second event was pole toppling.
The moment the Heroic Spirits split into two teams and picked up their poles, the atmosphere changed.
Their smiles vanished. Everyone's eyes became serious. This was——the gaze of battle.
BOOM!!
The first collision cracked the training grounds floor. Fine cracks spread like a spider's web, crackling as they extended.
Ritsuka blew their whistle.
Pee.
That thin sound was completely swallowed by the Heroic Spirits' battle cries.
They blew again. Once more. It didn't reach them.
Emiya stood outside the competition area with his arms crossed. His black hair was tied back, his reddish-brown eyes narrowed. He held a camera, recording the Heroic Spirits' battle. The corners of his mouth were slightly raised.
He was enjoying it.
Ritsuka felt a complicated emotion. They were the only one shouting "stop," and no one heard them. Emiya was capturing it all on film.
《Pole toppling → dozens of cracks in floor. Barely continuing》
The second line of the program schedule filled with more red text.
---
Third event: relay race with borrowed items.
"The item is——a person wearing glasses!"
All the Heroic Spirits looked at Gilgamesh at once.
Gilgamesh recrossed his legs on the sofa.
"Do you think I would lend my possessions?"
"I just need to borrow them for a moment..."
"Absolutely not."
"Please?"
"I refuse."
"...Please?"
"Do not defy me."
Even after asking a third time, his answer didn't change. Gilgamesh simply closed his eyes.
Meanwhile, Jeanne was running around the venue shouting "Let's all get along!" She seemed determined to liven up the competition. She turned a corner. She didn't make the turn.
CRASH!!
The wall broke. Jeanne disappeared into the next room.
Silence.
"...I'm fine!"
Her voice came from the next room.
Ritsuka looked at the program schedule. They added red text to the third line.
《Relay race → failed as competition. One wall destroyed》
---
Between events, Ritsuka sat on a folding pipe chair.
In front of the makeshift table set up as a water station. They poured themselves a cup of water and held it in both hands. Their hands trembled slightly. The exhaustion from staying up all night was seeping through. They could tell their face was pale.
Someone stood beside them.
It was Scáthach. Expressionless, she placed a cup in front of Ritsuka.
"Your complexion is poor, Master. Do not overexert yourself."
"Thank you..."
They reached for the cup.
"——But training is another matter. There is no rest in cultivation. Do not slack off in the afternoon events."
Ritsuka's hand stopped. They froze, cup in hand.
(Is this concern or a follow-up blow? Which is it?)
But it was true that Scáthach had brought water without being asked.
As Ritsuka brought the cup to their lips, Jeanne's eyes lit up beside them.
"Scáthach, that was kindness, wasn't it!? That was consideration, wasn't it!?"
"Be silent."
An immediate response.
Ritsuka gave a wry smile and drank the water. It was cold and delicious. Just that much made them feel a little better.
---
Afternoon. Mounted combat.
The Heroic Spirits collided literally.
The entire training grounds shook.
BANG! CRASH! CRACK!!
Every time a pair of Heroic Spirits collided, the floor trembled and the walls groaned. Ritsuka stood off to the side trying to referee with a flag. They took a step toward the next judging position.
That was the moment.
CRASH!!
Something came loose above. There was no time to look up.
"Master!"
Altria's hand pushed Ritsuka's chest. Hard. Without hesitation.
Ritsuka flew backward. They hit the floor. Their elbow slid. Their knee scraped. A grinding sensation and hot pain shot through them.
The old ceiling inspection panel crashed directly where Ritsuka had been standing. A dull sound. Dust rose into the air.
"...!"
They put their hand on the floor. They looked at their elbow. The skin was scraped, red. The knee was the same. Not a serious injury. Just blood seeping through.
Altria leaned down to look at Ritsuka.
"Are you alright, Master?"
"...Yeah. Thanks."
They answered. But they couldn't stand up.
Not because of the elbow and knee pain.
Something deeper inside had snapped.
Altria had already turned away. She was heading back to finish the mounted combat. The Heroic Spirits' voices echoed through the training grounds. Someone was laughing. Someone was shouting.
Ritsuka didn't stand up.
They walked alone to the wall at the edge of the training grounds. They leaned against it and slowly slid down to sit. They hugged their knees.
(I can't do this anymore.)
The exhaustion from staying up all night. The arm muscles worn down from defending the second cake. The legs worn out from Scáthach's training. The fact that "Noble Phantasms forbidden" had never reached anyone's ears.
It all crashed down at once.
"...Everyone's just doing whatever they want."
The words came out. Words no one would hear.
"No one listens to me. Whether I'm here or not... it doesn't matter."
In the center of the training grounds, the Heroic Spirits were happily competing in mounted combat. Altria was shouting with honor. Scáthach was applying pressure in silence. Gilgamesh was watching from the sofa, smiling faintly.
Not one of them was looking for Ritsuka.
They hadn't noticed Ritsuka was gone.
The communication terminal vibrated.
Romani Archiman's name appeared. Chaldea's medical chief. The warm-voiced man who always seemed a little unreliable.
"Ritsuka, are you okay? Your elbow and knee—are they injured? ...If needed, I can call this off."
There was a slight pause.
"...It's fine. Never mind. Do whatever you want."
"But——"
They cut the connection.
A cheer rose from the center of the training grounds. One of the teams must have decided the match. The Heroic Spirits erupted in excitement.
Altria's voice carried. "Next is the relay race—we shall decide it fairly!"
Scáthach crossed her arms. "If there is a training element, I will participate."
Gilgamesh sank deeper into the sofa. "For me to run... well, I shall observe."
None of them looked toward Ritsuka.
Ritsuka watched from the wall's edge. It felt like they had become invisible. Chaldea's only Master. The sole human tasked with protecting human history alongside the Heroic Spirits.
Yet in this moment, they felt like the most nonexistent person in the world.
The program schedule lay on the floor, filled with red text. They had no strength to pick it up.
Sitting at the edge of the training grounds, hugging their knees, Ritsuka didn't move.
——Then.
A short distance from the competition, Emiya lowered his camera.
Slowly, his gaze turned toward the wall's edge.
His reddish-brown eyes found the small shadow sitting against the wall.
Emiya said nothing. He simply stood there, camera in hand.
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