Time is the fairest thing in the world.
Because no matter what happens—no matter who dies—it keeps moving forward exactly the same.
And so, before long, morning arrived.
On the television, the local news was already running a report about last night's "gas explosion" at the Einzbern castle.
"Good morning, citizens. This is Fuyuki City's Morning News. Early last night, a violent explosion occurred at a privately owned castle located in the outskirts of Fuyuki, causing significant damage to the structure itself and to the surrounding forest. According to professional assessment by city officials, the cause of the incident was a gas leak…"
The anchor wore a stern expression as they described what had happened.
The footage quickly switched to the battlefield where multiple Servants and magi had clashed. Reporters bustled about, narrating and interviewing. Trees lay shattered. The castle had been mangled beyond recognition. The ground was carved with trenches and cratered with massive pits—and even through the screen, there was a sense of lingering "something" in the air that ordinary people had no words for.
"Although the incident has been classified as a gas leak, interviews indicate that nearby residents claim they saw a bright golden light tear across the sky at the moment of the explosion. Many believed it was a plane crash or a meteor impact. However, hikers who were camping nearby insist they captured photographs of phenomena that defy the laws of physics. Let's take a look."
The host displayed the photographs obtained from the campers.
The shots were blurry—hands shaking in the dark—but the key details were unmistakable.
And the moment those images appeared, the people watching from their respective televisions—Ritsuka, Irisviel, and even Tokiomi Tohsaka—couldn't help but pause.
Because what the pictures captured was Iskandar's thunder-chariot smashing down from the sky into the Einzbern castle.
Not only that—there was also the golden river of light carved open by the Sword of Promised Victory, and the overlapping radiance of Noble Phantasms released by Diarmuid and Gilles de Rais.
No question about it.
That was their handiwork.
"These damned ancients… making this much of a spectacle," Tokiomi muttered, staring at the densely packed bill the Holy Church had delivered to his home. His scalp practically tingled.
As Fuyuki's local leyline administrator—and because he had coordinated with his old friend Risei Kotomine—Tokiomi would receive a measure of "assistance" during the Grail War.
In exchange, he was responsible for helping the Church handle the cleanup.
Which, translated into plain language, meant:
He had to pay.
Money was a triviality to magi, mere worldly dust—yet the number on that bill was still a gut punch to the Tohsaka family's already strained finances.
Tokiomi couldn't help cursing those Servants who clearly had no concept of restraint.
As for Ritsuka, watching the broadcast, he felt some mild helplessness at the fact that despite their dispersal wards, hikers had still managed to snap photos.
But he wasn't particularly worried.
This was Fuyuki, during a Holy Grail War.
The ones who should be getting migraines were the supervisors—and Tokiomi.
And look.
The "responsible party" had arrived right on cue.
"Now, we would like to invite one of last night's witnesses: the priest of Fuyuki City Cathedral, as well as a noted geographer, physicist, chemist, and theologian—Father Kotomine Kirei—to provide an explanation."
"Father Kotomine, hello. Could you explain what happened last night?"
"It was, without question, a gas leak," Kirei replied expressionlessly into the microphone—having spent the entire night doing cleanup with Hundred Faces Hassan—then calmly confiscated every photograph while the host was still processing the words.
"Cough… cough…"
The host and crew froze.
They stared at Kirei's face—still as an ancient well—and for a moment, there were so many things to criticize that they didn't even know where to begin.
"Um, Father Kotomine… as we all know, gas leaks shouldn't produce a thunder chariot or golden meteors, right…?"
The host forced down the urge to scream and asked the question with professional seriousness.
Kirei clearly had no interest in bantering with civilians. He produced a complete set of "official certification documents" from the local police—documents Hundred Faces Hassan had arranged by masquerading as an officer at dawn—and slapped them onto the desk.
"Read it."
"This is…? 'Mass hallucination event caused by gas leak at approximately 00:xx'?"
"You're serious?!"
The host read it once, then read it again, and finally looked up as if reality itself had offended him.
What kind of lunatic report was this?
There weren't even gas pipelines in that forest!
And what—every phone camera got hit by an "electronic virus" at the same time?
"Alright," Kirei said flatly. "This is a professional assessment. If you doubt it, you may verify it at the police station. As news reporters, we must rely on facts and evidence. The so-called golden star river and thunder chariot are merely human imagination. We must trust science."
He concluded with a straight face:
"Finally, I urge everyone to be mindful of gas leaks. Gas is dangerous. Improper usage leads to tears for your loved ones. That concludes my explanation."
With that, the exhausted Kirei stood, gathered the photos, and walked out without caring what anyone thought.
His replacement on the broadcast was his father, Risei Kotomine.
Unlike Kirei, Risei opened with a long biblical tale about negligence inviting disaster—and then, with gusto, linked the incident to fate and divine punishment.
The station panicked, terrified that an old man was about to turn their morning segment into an impromptu sermon.
They cut the feed immediately.
Click—!
Viewers stared at their televisions in confusion.
If you didn't know better, you'd think you'd accidentally switched channels and stumbled into a morning stand-up routine.
Ritsuka, watching, could only sigh and offer Kirei a few seconds of silent condolences.
Both father and son were absurd beyond belief—
but they had successfully buried the truth.
Still, forcing someone like Kirei to appear on a public news segment and deliver nonsense with a straight face… that really was asking the impossible of him.
Once the live feed was cut, Ritsuka lost interest.
"Morgan," he called toward the workshop where she was still busy crafting something, "breakfast is in the kitchen. Come out and eat whenever."
Then he stood, went to the temple gate, and found Gilles de Rais—who had been guarding through the entire night.
Day two had begun.
It was time to move again.
And it was already morning—there wasn't much time left before his appointment with Irisviel.
They couldn't afford to waste a second.
…
In a corner of Fuyuki City—at a Sichuan restaurant—
The moment Ritsuka arrived, he regretted choosing this place.
Whether it was coincidence or intent, he found himself staring at the man who had been forced into overtime for an entire day and night because of their chaos—a man who had just finished his "interview," and who was now also eating here.
Kotomine Kirei.
And when Ritsuka met that resentful, gloomy gaze, something rare happened inside him:
He felt… guilty.
He's blaming me, Ritsuka thought.
He's absolutely blaming me.
"Um, Father Kotomine," Ritsuka said, rubbing his forehead, "I don't want to pray, and I don't have any confessions today. Could you stop staring at me like that?"
"If this is truly a chance encounter, we can simply move to a private room. I won't disturb your meal."
"But I have something I want to ask you," Kirei said, lifting his eyes with unusual seriousness. "Otherwise, I wouldn't have arrived here at the exact moment you did."
"Hm—?"
The instant Kirei finished speaking, Gilles de Rais—serving as Ritsuka's guard—sharpened his gaze like a drawn blade.
And in that tiny moment of tension, the entire restaurant changed.
Whoosh—whoosh—whoosh!
Sharp sounds cut the air.
The hurried servers vanished in an instant.
The nearby diners disappeared as well.
In their place stood a Hassan with a violet ponytail, clad in a black bodysuit—
and, seated around them on both sides, four different Hassan bodies—tall and short, fat and thin—watching Ritsuka and Gilles with eyes like knives.
"…You really are something," Ritsuka said, going numb at the sight. "You replaced the entire restaurant."
He couldn't help admiring the audacity.
This was a use of Hundred Faces Hassan that even he wouldn't have thought of.
"Is this a trap, you bastard—?!" Gilles snarled, fury surging. He was about to unleash his Noble Phantasm, then put a spear through Kirei's skull—he had confidence that at this distance, Kirei couldn't dodge his speed, especially after Morgan's reinforcement—
But Ritsuka raised a hand and stopped him.
"Stop, Marshal Gilles."
Ritsuka flicked his eyes over the Hassans, then toward the door, then across the layout of the room—evaluating.
Finally, he looked back at Kirei, who still sat there with the same blank expression, and asked with weary disbelief:
"You don't seriously think this is enough to kill us, do you, Father Kotomine?"
"I'm not that naive," Kirei said. "And I'm not here to kill you."
"Then what are you doing?" Ritsuka pressed. "Did Tokiomi send you?"
"He did not," Kirei replied, shaking his head.
"And 'asking questions'—is this really how you do etiquette?" Ritsuka glanced at the surrounding ambush, speechless. "Pin the other person down first? Are you that afraid I'll run?"
Then he added, dry as dust:
"Should I expect five hundred axemen waiting outside, and you'll smash a cup as the signal?"
Gilles's forehead veins bulged. Even restrained, he looked ready to explode.
Kirei didn't respond.
Ritsuka lowered his voice deliberately and spoke toward the room:
"Hundred Faces… what have you built from countless minds? A desire of a hundred souls wrestling for a single self? Foolish."
Snap.
The Hassans stiffened, like gears suddenly jammed.
Their bodies betrayed them—dropping to their knees toward Ritsuka.
"What—?!" They snapped out of it quickly—assassins of the highest caliber—but the moment they tried to rise and retaliate—
Ritsuka's voice cut through again, cold and absolute.
"Offer up your head."
A familiar line.
A familiar terror.
"—First Founder!"
The Hassans all dropped back down, shock rippling through them.
Ritsuka didn't waste the opening.
He kicked and flipped the entire table, using it to block Kirei's line of sight for a heartbeat—then drew a ridiculously stylish little handgun from his sleeve and aimed it directly at the "death point" above Kirei's head.
In an instant, the initiative reversed.
The Hassans twitched to move, but Gilles stepped forward like a fortress of iron, shutting them down with presence alone.
In less than a second, a mutual hostage situation—
became Ritsuka holding Kirei at gunpoint.
Ritsuka met Kirei's eyes.
Kirei met his.
"…"
"…"
No one spoke.
Ritsuka didn't pull the trigger.
Kirei didn't move either.
As if by unspoken agreement, the two simply sat back down.
The restaurant returned to an eerie calm.
And for a brief moment, both sides' Servants looked… a little dumbfounded.
"So," Ritsuka said at last, resting his chin on his hand, "what exactly do you want to ask?"
"Something related to our last conversation," Kirei replied, retracting the Black Keys at his fingertips and raising his eyes again.
Whether it was their previous contact, or what Assassin's investigations had turned up, the boy in front of him was… fascinating.
Born from a traditional mage lineage, yet by nature a genuinely decent young man—helpful, even when it gained him nothing, even when it didn't affect him at all.
He had a magus's power, but not a magus's arrogance or distortion.
He looked like a fairy-tale ideal of a "good" magus—the sort the world would naturally like.
And because of that, Kirei couldn't understand what Ritsuka pursued.
What his fixed goal was.
What he truly desired.
In their last talk, Kirei had already sensed it—his lifelong confusion might, somehow, be answered through Ritsuka.
That was why he'd come today.
"My last conversation…? If you mean that 'wish' you mentioned, I honestly don't remember clearly. But whatever."
Ritsuka waved it away, then—without waiting for Kirei to continue—pointed at the rice cakes still on Kirei's plate, gesturing for a share.
"Before you interrogate anyone, take care of basic needs first."
Kirei blinked, then quietly slid the plate over.
"Here."
"Good."
Ritsuka ate without hesitation.
For a while, neither of them spoke, and the silence became increasingly strange.
When only two pieces remained, Ritsuka picked one up and offered it back.
"Here. Aren't you eating?"
"…Huh?" Kirei looked genuinely caught off guard. "I can go without."
"No. That wastes food," Ritsuka said seriously. "I can't finish it. And if you don't eat any, I'm going to assume you poisoned it."
"…I didn't poison it."
Kirei sounded like he'd lost the ability to argue.
In the end, he took the piece and ate with Ritsuka.
"Hey," Ritsuka said, "Father Kotomine—actually, I'll just call you Kirei. We've known each other long enough. That okay?"
Kirei nodded. "Mm."
He didn't mind the familiarity.
"From what you just said, I can roughly tell what's going on," Ritsuka continued, eyes sharp. "You're not here on Tokiomi's orders. You chose to come yourself. But given Tokiomi's personality, he wouldn't let you do that unless something changed, so…"
Ritsuka blinked.
"You two fall out?"
"No," Kirei said, shaking his head. "Teacher said I've already graduated. He no longer needs my help."
"He intends to walk the rest of his path alone. He doesn't want to involve me."
"…That's… quite a resolve," Ritsuka muttered, his expression turning strange.
"Not only Kayneth… even Tokiomi has that kind of resolve. That's unexpected."
Then he looked straight at Kirei.
"So your one reference point is gone, and you came to me because you want answers."
"…"
Kirei didn't deny it.
He didn't need to.
The hunger in his eyes made the truth obvious.
"Alright. I get it." Ritsuka leaned back. "The people I'm waiting for aren't here yet, and you don't look like you're planning to jump back into the war."
"So, for the sake of our past talks, I'll help you a little, Kirei."
"Are you trying to recruit me?" Kirei asked, still careful. "I won't do anything that harms my teacher."
"No," Ritsuka said bluntly. "This isn't recruitment. It's just daytime conversation between Masters in a Grail War."
"Fights happen at night. It's daytime now. Talking doesn't violate anything."
"And for you, getting your answer matters most."
Kirei nodded slowly. "Yes."
"Before I answer you," Ritsuka said, "I have a question for you."
He looked Kirei directly in the eyes.
"What do you think the essence of desire is?"
Kirei froze.
Not long ago, someone else had asked him the exact same question.
Gilgamesh.
But even though the words were identical, the feeling was completely different.
From Gilgamesh, the question was temptation.
From Ritsuka, it was… a genuine inquiry.
And unlike the inexplicable danger he felt around the King of Heroes, being with Ritsuka gave Kirei an odd sense of ease—almost relaxation.
It wasn't something he had ever felt with Tokiomi, or even with his father.
For him…
Perhaps this was what people called a confidant.
A friend.
Though he wasn't sure a person like him was even capable of making one.
"I don't know," Kirei answered honestly. "I've been searching for that answer myself."
Ritsuka nodded, then offered his own:
"Then I can tell you the answer. A wish is simply the scenery your heart longs to see."
Scenery he longed to see…
Kirei stared down toward his chest, trying to listen to the stillness there.
What did that quiet heart want to see?
What did he long for?
There was nothing.
An emptiness.
A sincere confusion—like some vital piece had been missing all along.
"Then… what scenery do I want to see?" he asked.
"How would I know?" Ritsuka shrugged. "Isn't that something you should ask yourself?"
"Then what you said just now—"
"I'm only pointing you toward the direction," Ritsuka cut in. "What it is, whether you can actually see it—that depends on you."
"On me…?"
"Yeah." Ritsuka wiped cream from his fingertips. "You know you're not 'normal,' right? You claim you have no wishes. You wear the face of someone without desire."
"But do you understand why the Grail chose you?"
"That may have just been an accident," Kirei said after a pause.
"There are no accidents," Ritsuka replied calmly. "No coincidences. Only inevitability."
His finger moved in front of Kirei's eyes—then gently tapped the spot over Kirei's heart, leaving a small smear of white cream on the black fabric.
"Something here has been missing for a long time. That's why your wish can be right in front of you—and you still can't recognize it."
"Missing…" Kirei lowered his eyes.
Against black cloth, the white stain was glaringly obvious—like a piece absent from a void.
"Yes." Ritsuka's voice was steady. "When something is empty, you naturally want to fill it. You search for what can complete it."
"That may be why the Grail chose you."
Kirei's eyes shifted, thoughtful.
Both Ritsuka and Gilgamesh had pointed out the same 'missing piece' in him.
But their approaches were fundamentally different.
Gilgamesh wanted to fill that absence with a specific thing—pleasure.
Ritsuka wanted Kirei to decide for himself what should fill it.
"Because you have nothing, you can still gain something," Ritsuka said, tapping his chin. "Because you're imperfect, you can still become complete."
"This is just my view, but—perfection is despair. It is excellence beyond everything that came before."
"And that's exactly why you must never be allowed to be perfect."
"Humans are creatures who suffer under that contradiction—seeking stimulation and satisfaction, always struggling forward."
"So, Kirei… this imperfection, this absence, is the trial your God gave you."
"And in the end, you'll become truly complete."
"Do you understand what I mean?"
Kirei's eyes widened.
In that instant, the heart that had been silent for so long—
seemed to beat again.
"Imperfect… becoming complete…" Kirei murmured. "I think I'm starting to understand."
He glanced at the Command Spells on his hand and nodded softly.
"You're right. I think I understand why the Grail chose me."
"And perhaps… I should continue pursuing the Grail."
Ritsuka immediately shook his head.
"Kirei, have you considered something?" he said evenly. "If the Grail gives you a 'piece'—how can you be sure it's the piece you actually need?"
"The Grail claims to be an omnipotent wish-granter, but none of us truly know if it is."
"And if the piece you gain isn't the one you really want… what then?"
Kirei fell silent, thinking.
Ritsuka's point was painfully clean.
If he entrusted everything to an uncertain object—how could he even confirm the result was truly his?
He didn't know what he wanted.
So how could he judge whether he'd received the "right" thing?
"…You may be correct," Kirei admitted slowly.
Then he lifted his head and asked, quietly:
"Then what should I do?"
"Don't wish blindly," Ritsuka said. "Confirm."
He placed a hand on Kirei's shoulder.
"If you're lost, then first confirm what kind of person you want to be. Make a real choice."
"Then find a way to become that."
"Confirm…" Kirei repeated, eyes still hazed. "How do I confirm what I want to become?"
"It's simple," Ritsuka said. "If you can't decide what you want to be—start by deciding what you don't want to be."
"Don't want to be…"
"Yeah. Let me ask you." Ritsuka raised a finger, guiding him. "Do you want to be a villain who commits evil without restraint?"
"No."
"Do you want to be a vicious criminal?"
"No."
"Do you want to be a false, frightening little man?"
"No."
Ritsuka smiled.
"See? You already know perfectly well. Saint Church honors graduate, indeed."
"You know what's right and wrong. You know what you shouldn't become."
He patted Kirei's shoulder once, gently.
"So if you still don't know what you should be—stop asking others, stop wandering blindly."
"Trust your own heart, and follow its pull."
"And if you truly can't find it, use elimination. Cross out what you shouldn't become, one by one."
"Someday, you'll find the answer."
Ritsuka glanced out the window as he stood.
Outside, a white-haired woman had appeared—
and beside her, a dazzling figure clad in gold.
The people he'd been waiting for had arrived.
It was time to say goodbye.
"It's about time," Ritsuka said. "I've told you what I can. The rest depends on what you choose."
His tone carried something rare—trust.
"You may still be lost, but I believe that whatever you choose, it'll be what you truly chose."
"Wait." Kirei abruptly looked up, asking one final question.
"Ritsuka… what kind of person do you think I should become?"
"You're asking me?" Ritsuka turned back, smiling as he shook his head. "Didn't I just tell you? That answer is yours. What I give you won't be the answer you want."
He paused, then added one thing—firmly, without hesitation.
"But there's one thing I'm certain of."
"No matter what happens, you won't be a bad person."
"After all," he said, eyes bright with amusement, "you're the priest who stood next to me and cursed that old worm together."
"So go be a good person, Kirei."
Ritsuka smiled, voice warm.
"I'm looking forward to seeing what your future ends up looking like."
"Be a good person…" Kirei murmured.
After the boy left, the words kept echoing in his ears.
Kirei lowered his head, as if seriously thinking.
And when his eyes landed on the small white smear of cream on his black clothes—right over his heart—
a faint glimmer of color returned to those once-empty eyes.
He was still lost.
But at least now…
he had a direction.
And perhaps all he could do was keep searching—
until the day he became something that could truly fill the missing piece.
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
Uma Musume, But I Only Have Five Years Left to Live (Chapter 120)
Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 100)
Ben Tennyson Wants to Join the Justice League (Chapter 100)
TYPE-MOON: Redemption Beginning with the Holy Grail War (Chapter89)
Yu-Gi-Oh! — Transmigrated into the White Dragon Girl (Chapter86)
"Is this chat group even serious?" (Chapter63)
I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter75)
Can Playing Games Save the World? 53
Crossover Anime Multiverse: The Demon Hunter of an Unnatural World 57
From Junkman to Wasteland 35
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