Reborn in Type-Moon: Starting by Adopting Sakura - Chapter 41

There was supposed to be some old legend about magi in the Age of Gods slipping into other realms through meditation. Yuu had always figured it was mostly bullshit, but now? Maybe not.

He stared at the ceiling, trying to process what had just happened.

Birds were already chirping outside—that annoyingly cheerful morning soundtrack that meant he'd been sitting there way longer than it felt like. The curtains had that telltale glow that screamed ‘you've been up all night’. A neat rectangle of light had appeared on the wall, like the world's most passive-aggressive alarm clock.

Wait. All night?

Yuu blinked hard. In his head, the whole thing had lasted maybe a few seconds. His brain did that thing where it tried to rewind and catch the sensation again, but it was like trying to remember a dream—the harder he grasped, the more it slipped away.

He exhaled slowly and looked down.

Sakura was still wrapped around him like human velcro, one leg thrown over his hip, face smooshed against his chest. She looked ridiculously peaceful for someone who slept like she was afraid he might escape.

Which, to be fair, he kind of was.

The thing was, both times this weird meditation thing had happened, it had been in her room. Sakura really might be his good luck charm.

Almost seven. He reached over and tapped her cheek. "Hey. Sakura. Rise and shine."

Her eyelashes fluttered like tiny butterfly wings. She made this soft grumbling sound and somehow managed to cling tighter. "Mm-mm. Five more minutes."

Yuu didn't have the heart to push it. He was leaving today anyway, which meant Sakura and Manaka would be on their own for a while.

The thought should have worried him more than it did. Manaka was brilliant—beyond brilliant, really. She'd blown past "prodigy" and landed somewhere in "slightly terrifying genius" territory. But she also had this unsettling habit of approaching moral dilemmas like they were interesting puzzles instead of things with actual consequences.

Still, Yuu was pretty sure about one thing: Manaka would never hurt Sakura. Whatever else his apprentice might be capable of, that was one line she wouldn’t cross.

…

Manaka and Sakura stood outside the bookshop, watching Yuu's white car disappear around the corner.

"So," Manaka said, turning to her with that smile that could probably power a small city. "What sounds good for lunch?"

There it was again—that thing about Manaka-nee that made Sakura's stomach do weird flips. She looked like she'd stepped out of some perfect storybook, all flowing white dress and luminous skin. But sometimes, just sometimes, Sakura caught something else underneath all that sweetness. Something that made her want to take a step back.

It wasn’t exactly fear. More like the unease that crept in when she walked alone at night and thought she heard footsteps behind her. Her brain whispering danger before she even knew why.

"Um, Manaka-nee?" Sakura looked up at her with her best hopeful expression. "Could you maybe teach me how to cook? I want to help out more."

"Aww, thank you, Sakura." Manaka's laugh was like wind chimes. "But you don't need to worry about any of that. You should focus on getting ready for elementary school instead. Sensei would be so disappointed if you fell behind."

"Okay," Sakura said quietly.

"Perfect." Manaka took her hand and pushed open the shop door. The actual wind chimes above the entrance jingled in the autumn breeze, and Sakura tried not to think about how even they sounded like they were trying too hard to be cheerful.

…

Around noon, Misaya showed up at the bookshop like she owned the place.

"Is Yuu here?" she asked, scanning the shop like someone who'd already decided the answer should be yes.

"Oh," Manaka said, tilting her head with exaggerated surprise. "He didn't tell you? He left for a business trip this morning. So early too—around six, I think?" She paused, letting that sink in. "I made him breakfast before he left."

Misaya's face went through about three different emotions in two seconds flat. Shock, surprise, and then this carefully controlled blankness that probably took years of etiquette classes to perfect.

Her fiancé had literally skipped town without bothering to say a word!

"How strange," Manaka continued, her voice dripping with sympathy. "If he didn't tell you about something this important..." She trailed off with a little shrug. "Well, I suppose that means you're really just a stranger to him, doesn't it?"

The muscle in Misaya's jaw twitched.

"I mean, people tell the important people in their lives about these things," Manaka added sweetly. "But if you didn’t know... well—ahem—let’s stop with the depressing talk, shall we? Would you like to stay for lunch, since you came all this way for nothing?"

"No." The word came out clipped. "Thank you."

Even when she was clearly imagining creative ways to strangle her, Misaya kept her spine straight and her voice level.

Watching her try not to combust from pure frustration was honestly the most entertainment Manaka had gotten all week. She clasped her hands behind her back and smiled a little wider.

…

Far west of the city center, beyond the deep mountain ranges of Fuyuki, a long stretch of national highway carved its way through undeveloped forest. The asphalt stretched endlessly ahead, a two-way road that seemed abandoned in the late hour. Streetlights were few and far between, casting weak pools of yellow light that did little to push back the darkness. No other cars shared the road—just empty lanes that disappeared into shadow around each bend.

The highway felt isolated, as if the world had forgotten this particular strip of civilization and left it to the wilderness.

A white car's engine roared through the silence, its headlights cutting bright cones through the black air. Behind the wheel, Irisviel drove the single-cylinder engine at over 110 kilometers per hour. Her small hands gripped the steering wheel, but her violet eyes kept losing focus. She'd blink hard, shake her head slightly, then stare ahead again as if trying to see something that wasn't there.

"Hey, Iri, you mind slowing down a little?" Yuu shifted in the passenger seat, glancing at the speedometer. It wasn't that he questioned her driving ability—she'd proven herself capable enough on the highways leading out of Tokyo. But ever since they'd entered these winding mountain roads around Fuyuki, something was off. She kept drifting, both mentally and literally, and it was making him increasingly nervous.

The noise slammed into them—blinding headlights, then the roar of a truck horn.

HOOONNNK—!

A massive freight truck came barreling toward them from the opposite lane. The driver, probably scared out of his mind by their speed on these narrow curves, was laying on the horn for all he was worth. The sound seemed to bounce off the mountainsides and come back at them from every direction.

Irisviel blinked at the noise, her hands jerking the wheel to the right. The car lurched toward the metal guardrail, tires squealing against asphalt.

"Iri!" Yuu reached over, steadying the wheel. "Pull over. Now."

The white car gradually slowed, tires crunching over gravel as it rolled to a stop on a small flat area beside the road. She turned off the engine and engaged the handbrake, but she didn't move from her position. She just sat there, staring through the windshield.

From their elevated position on the mountainside, the lights of Fuyuki city spread out below them. Thousands of tiny points of warm light dotted the dark landscape—houses, streetlights, stores still open in the night. It looked almost peaceful from this distance, like stars that had fallen to earth and decided to stay.

The dashboard's soft green glow was the only light inside the cabin now. Yuu could hear the engine ticking as it cooled, the faint whisper of wind through the trees outside. In the back seat, Artoria sat perfectly still, her green eyes reflecting the distant city lights as she watched the landscape scroll past the windows.

"Okay, what's going on?" Yuu turned in his seat to face Irisviel properly. "You've been distracted this whole drive. Talk to me."

Her hands remained curled around the steering wheel even though the car was stopped. Her feet, encased in soft velvet shoes, had moved away from the pedals but seemed reluctant to relax.

"…Yuu."

"Mm?"

"…I'm sorry. I'm sorry for dragging you into this."

She turned her gaze toward the distant city lights, but he could see her reflection in the windshield—the way her eyebrows drew together, the tight line of her mouth.

Five more kilometers. That was all that separated them from Fuyuki's leylines. Once they crossed that invisible boundary, there would be no pretending anymore. The Holy Grail War would officially begin, and with it, all the danger and violence that she had tried so hard to explain during their journey from Tokyo.

She had spent weeks preparing herself for this moment—mentally rehearsing what she would say, emotionally steeling herself for what was to come. She had convinced herself that sharing everything with Yuu, facing this trial together, was the right choice. The only choice.

But now that they were actually here, now that she could see the lights of the city where so much blood would be spilled, fear was eating away at her resolve.

What if Yuu got hurt because of her? What if her decision to involve him in this war—her war, her family's war—led to something terrible happening to him? What if she had to watch him suffer for a cause that had nothing to do with him?

She couldn't even complete the thought. The possibility was too horrifying.

This was her responsibility—her burden to carry. The Einzbern family’s mission had nothing to do with Yuu, and yet here she was, dragging him into her problem.

"…But I should never have—wait, Yuu—what are you doing?!"

Silver hair whipped across her face as he suddenly opened his door. Before she could process what was happening, he had come around to her side, opened her door, unbuckled her seatbelt, and pulled her out into the cold night.

"Didn't we make plans to go to that beach resort next summer?" His voice reached her like a pocket of warmth in the freezing air. "The one with the little café you saw in that travel magazine? You planning to make me break that promise?"

He pulled back just enough to look at her face. "Because if you are, I think you need some serious punishment for that."

"Y-Yuu...?" Her voice came out smaller than she intended.