Shirō barely had time to react before Archer lunged at her. Even with Excalibur in her hands, even with the knowledge that she now wielded one of the most powerful swords in history, she was completely and utterly outmatched.
The moment she raised her blade to block, Archer's twin swords slammed against it, sending a shockwave through her arms. The impact rattled her bones, nearly making her drop Excalibur.
"Too slow," Archer said, his voice flat, unimpressed.
Shirō gritted her teeth and forced herself to stay on her feet. 'This is fine. I have Excalibur. I can fight him now!'
Wrong.
The instant she thought that, Archer twisted his grip and knocked her sword aside. Before she could recover, a sharp kick slammed into her stomach, launching her backward. She hit the ground hard, coughing as the breath was driven from her lungs.
"Get up," Archer commanded.
She did. Of course, she did. She refused to stay down. Not when she was supposed to be Saber. Not when she had 'Excalibur.'
She charged forward, gripping the sword with both hands. If she could just land one hit—just one—then maybe she could prove she was improving. But Archer saw it coming from a mile away.
His movements were so 'effortless', like he wasn't even trying. He sidestepped her strike with infuriating ease, twisting his body as his swords flashed.
Shirō gasped as she barely managed to parry one of his attacks, but the second sword was already coming. Her balance was off. She tried to move, but it was too late. The blunt edge of his blade slammed into her ribs, sending her sprawling across the dojo floor.
She groaned, gripping her side. Damn it, that hurt.
Rin, who had been watching from the sidelines, let out an exasperated sigh. "You have Excalibur, Shirō! Use it properly!"
Shirō pushed herself up, her hands shaking. "I 'am' using it properly!"
"No," Archer said flatly. "You're swinging it around like a child with a stick."
Shirō grit her teeth. "I 'just' got it!"
"And that's why you're losing." Archer twirled his swords lazily, his expression unreadable. "If you're relying on Excalibur alone to make up for your lack of skill, you'll die the moment you face someone competent."
She hated that he was right.
But she 'had' to get better.
With a frustrated growl, Shirō steadied her stance and charged again. This time, she tried to be smarter about it, faking a swing to the left before shifting her weight and aiming for his right side.
It didn't matter.
Archer still blocked her with terrifying ease. With a flick of his wrist, he twisted his blade and 'disarmed' her.
Excalibur went flying.
Shirō barely had a second to process this before Archer's knee slammed into her stomach. The pain was instant and overwhelming, knocking the wind out of her.
And he 'still' didn't stop.
Before she could even collapse, Archer grabbed her by the front of her armour, hoisted her up, and 'threw' her across the dojo.
Shirō hit the floor hard, her vision blurring from the impact. She groaned, trying to push herself up, but her arms refused to cooperate.
Rin winced from the sidelines. "Oof. That looked painful."
Archer sighed, rolling his shoulders. "And that's what happens when you rely on a weapon without skill."
Shirō coughed, glaring up at him. "You—"
"Again," he ordered.
Shirō groaned, but forced herself to stand. She didn't care how much it hurt. She had to get stronger. She 'would' get stronger.
[—(/-\)—]
"Saber-chan, why are you bandaged like this?!"
"Saber-san?!"
Shirō barely had time to react before Fuji-nee and Sakura rushed toward her, eyes wide with concern as they took in her current state. Bandages wrapped around her arms and torso, a dull ache pulsing through her body with every small movement. It was nothing. Just the result of Archer completely and utterly wrecking her in training.
She should've expected this reaction.
"Oh, it's nothing serious," Shirō—no, Saber—said quickly, raising her hands in what she hoped was a dismissive gesture. "Just some light practice. Ouch."
Fuji-nee did not look convinced.
"Light practice? Saber-chan, you look like you got hit by a truck!"
She kind of felt like she got hit by a truck.
Sakura frowned, gently touching Shirō's arm. "Are you sure you're okay?"
Shirō mustered the most reassuring smile she could manage. "Really, I'm fine! It's just… Archer can be really enthusiastic when teaching."
That was one way to put it.
Fuji-nee crossed her arms, looking far from satisfied but ultimately sighing in resignation. "Well, if you say so…"
Thank God.
Sakura glanced toward the kitchen. "Should I make dinner tonight? You should rest, Saber-san."
Shirō blinked. "Huh? Oh, no, it's fine. I can cook."
Before either of them could protest, she quickly made her way to the kitchen, ignoring the soreness in her body as she grabbed the ingredients. This, at least, was something she could still do properly. No getting thrown around, no humiliating beatdowns—just simple, straightforward cooking.
By the time she finished making dinner, Fuji-nee and Sakura had already set the table. As they started eating, Shirō watched nervously, wondering if her cooking tasted any different now that she was technically not Shirō anymore.
But to her relief, neither of them seemed to notice anything off.
"Saber-chan," Fuji-nee said between bites, "you cook just as well as Shirō!"
Sakura nodded in agreement. "It's delicious."
Shirō sighed internally. Good. That was one less thing to worry about.
As they continued eating, everything seemed to settle into a comfortable, peaceful atmosphere. But then—
Fuji-nee suddenly perked up, her eyes lighting up with an idea. "Oh! I should call Shirō on video!"
Shirō's entire body froze.
"Oh, uh, no need!" she said quickly, waving her hands. "I mean, he's probably busy—"
But Fuji-nee was fast. Before Shirō could even stand up, she had already pulled out her phone, holding Shirō in place with one hand as she quickly dialed with the other.
And then—
"You are my special~"
Shirō's phone rang.
The whole room fell silent.
Fuji-nee and Sakura blinked.
Shirō stared in horror.
The cheerful, unmistakable ringtone echoed through the room.
Fuji-nee slowly turned her head toward the kitchen counter. Sakura hesitantly stood up, walking over and picking up the phone that was definitely ringing.
The caller ID? Fujimaru Taiga.
The owner of the phone? Saber.
Shirō felt her soul leave her body.
Fuji-nee and Sakura looked at her. Then at the phone. Then back at her.
A long, awkward pause.
"Saber-chan…" Fuji-nee finally said, her voice slow and suspicious. "Why do you have Shirō's phone?"
Shirō's mind went blank.
"Um, uh," she stammered, scrambling for an explanation. "He… left it with me?"
Silence.
They didn't buy it.
Their faces screamed disbelief.
Sakura frowned slightly, holding the phone carefully in her hands as if waiting for a better answer. Fuji-nee squinted at her, lips pursed, clearly thinking very hard about something.
Shirō gulped.
This was bad.
This was so bad.
They weren't asking any further questions, but she could feel their suspicions growing by the second. How the hell was she supposed to explain this?!
No, wait—she just had to redirect their attention!
"Uh, I mean—maybe Shirō just forgot to take it with him before he left?" she tried, forcing a nervous laugh. "You know how forgetful he can be!"
Fuji-nee and Sakura exchanged glances.
"…I guess that's possible," Sakura admitted slowly.
Fuji-nee hummed, still looking skeptical. "But wouldn't he have noticed by now?"
Shirō stiffened.
Crap.
She needed to end this conversation now.
"I'll just return it to him later!" she said quickly, standing up and snatching the phone from Sakura's hands before they could argue. "No problem at all! Haha! Anyway! We should probably finish eating before the food gets cold, right?"
She sat down.
She started eating.
She pretended really hard that nothing had just happened.
Fuji-nee and Sakura stared at her for a long moment.
Then, slowly, Fuji-nee shrugged. "Well, whatever. I'll just call him again later!"
Shirō barely managed to stop herself from choking on her food.
Sakura, though still looking suspicious, let out a small sigh. "…Alright. If you say so, Saber-san."
Crisis barely averted.
Shirō focused on her food, doing her best to ignore the way her heart was still pounding.
She really needed to be more careful.
[—(/-\)—]
TBC