His lips moved. "Sakura is the Juice-Squeezing Princess."
After saying that, he foamed at the mouth and collapsed to the floor, unconscious at the age of seventeen.
Assassin, I Want...
By the time Shirou opened his eyes, it was probably some unknown hour in the morning. The sunlight was bright, birds sang and flowers bloomed, and everything was peaceful—except his vision was a little green. Was that the color of the sun?
"Senpai? Senpai?"
A familiar voice reached his ears. When was the last time Sakura had woken him up? It seemed to have been when they were fixing appliances before. Back then, they had been in the storeroom, and Sakura liked to sweep her hair behind her shoulders.
But this time, Sakura was not speaking beside the bed. She was under the covers, looking at Shirou with a flushed, bashful face.
"Good morning, Sakura." Shirou moved his already parched lips. After being drained dry yesterday, he truly had no strength left.
As a soft body pressed against him, Shirou realized that Sakura still was not wearing anything. And, without a doubt, neither was he!
Shirou felt as if his head were splitting apart. Did that mean that after he had been drained dry last night and collapsed, he had been squeezed again? And now, was he about to be...
No way. Let me take a day off!
"Could we not hand in the marital dues first thing in the morning?"
"Alright, Senpai." Sakura frowned with some difficulty, but said nothing else as she put on her skirt. "Senpai should get up now. It's already seven. You used to get up at six."
"Today is different." Shirou shook his head, his brain still buzzing.
"Alright."
Sakura closed the door behind her, and Shirou could finally sleep a little longer.
Projecting