The second day of the Holy Grail War, in Fuyuki City's shopping district.
The sun hung in the November sky, its light mild, and the temperature on the street was just warm enough that people did not have to pull their coats too tightly around themselves.
Compared with when Mayuri had passed through the day before yesterday, the street was much quieter today.
Foot traffic was probably only sixty percent of normal. A few shops had only raised their shutters halfway, and the owner of the convenience store on the corner stood smoking in the doorway, his movements languid.
The commotion in Miyama Town last night had been suppressed through bounded fields and information control.
But the story that "a series of gas pipeline explosions had occurred in that area" had still spread.
People in the surrounding blocks were all somewhat uneasy.
Mayuri walked down the sidewalk in a cream-colored hoodie and dark jeans.
Tokiomi Tohsaka had arranged these clothes for her so she could blend in with ordinary people when she went out during the day.
Her hood was down, and her long, pale champagne-blond hair hung down her back, swaying gently with her steps.
Judging by appearances alone, she was an ordinary girl with a slender figure who was a little too pretty.
She carried a convenience store plastic bag in her left hand, containing two two-liter bottles of cola and three bags of chips in different flavors.
In her right hand was a skewer of grilled dango she had just bought from a roadside stall. She took a bite, chewed twice, and frowned slightly. The soy sauce flavor was a little strong.
But she kept chewing.
She rarely got to come out.
Stay at the Tohsaka Residence long enough, and it really could drive a modern person up the wall.
Mayuri had spent two full days inside that mansion with its old-world elegance, getting a very direct taste of just how far a mage's household was removed from modern life.
There was no television, no computer, and no cell phone anywhere in the house.
The sound system was a record player from who knew what era, and the records beside it were all classical music.
The kitchen did have a refrigerator and a gas stove, but those already counted as the most modern things in the entire house.
There was no Wi-Fi.
That alone was enough to make someone from the twenty-first century suffer for a while.
Tokiomi Tohsaka did not seem to consider this a problem at all.
The man's usual pastimes were making tea, reading leyline observation reports, and writing things that looked like academic papers.
He could sit quietly at his desk all afternoon, writing on parchment with a brush, occasionally raising his teacup for a sip before continuing to write.
His expression remained composed throughout.
Mayuri had tried to imitate him.
Fifteen minutes in, her legs had started shaking.
So when Mayuri worked up the courage that morning to ask Tokiomi Tohsaka for funds to go out and buy supplies, her tone was about as earnest as someone who had spent three days walking through a desert begging a camel for water.
Tokiomi Tohsaka glanced at her, drew several banknotes from his wallet, and handed them over.
There was something of an "understandable" air to the gesture.
He had probably noticed that his Servant had been getting rather stir-crazy in the mansion over the past two days.
In any case, Mayuri had money now.
The plan was simple, too: buy enough snacks and drinks for the next few days and stockpile them in her room.
At least she would have something to stuff into her mouth when she got bored.
Strictly speaking, a Servant's Spirit Origin did not require food, but they still had a sense of taste, and eating was no different for them than for the living.
Biting off the last grilled dumpling, Mayuri tossed the bamboo skewer into a roadside trash can, turned a corner, and headed toward the next convenience store.
Then she saw a familiar figure emerging through the automatic doors of an arcade across the street.
Short, bright golden hair, crimson eyes, and a boy's face that was far too exquisite.
He wore a short, dark jacket over that ornate black-and-gold ceremonial outfit.
The jacket was unzipped, exposing a little of the outfit's golden patterns beneath its open front.
Young Gilgamesh had a lollipop in his mouth, his left hand tucked into his jacket pocket and a stuffed toy in his right, probably won from a claw machine.
The boy strolled out of the arcade, his crimson eyes sweeping over the street.
Then he spotted Mayuri.
His eyes lit up.
"Yo."
He took the lollipop out of his mouth, his lips spreading into a grin.
"If it isn't Miss Angel. You finally decided to come outside today."
Mayuri paused.
Young Gilgamesh.
The King of Heroes.
The King of Uruk.
The possessor of Gate of Babylon and Sha Naqba Imuru.
A character who consistently ranked near the top in Fate series popularity polls.
And now he was standing outside an arcade with a lollipop in his mouth, calling her Miss Angel.
Mayuri took a deep breath.
"Archer."
She first answered with his class designation, then quickly organized what she wanted to say in her head.
"Gilgamesh, huh."
Kid Gil blinked his crimson eyes.
He did not particularly react to being addressed by his true name.
At the harbor on the first night, Iskandar had already set the bar very low for revealing one's true name. After that, people calling each other by their true names was not so strange.
"Why are you sticking your nose into a Holy Grail War when you've got nothing better to do?"
There was a trace of genuine puzzlement in Mayuri's voice.
"Doesn't your treasury already have every kind of treasure anyway?"
"Whether I come or not is my choice as king."
Kid Gil put the lollipop back into his mouth, his words muffled.
"Besides, what's so interesting about staying in the Heroic Spirit Hall? There aren't any arcades."
He waved the stuffed toy in his hand. It was a plump white Shiba Inu, shoddily made and obviously a prize from a cheap claw machine.
Yet the boy held it quite naturally, without the slightest awkwardness over "the King of Heroes actually playing a claw machine."
As far as he was concerned, everything in the world was his treasure, and this Shiba Inu was no exception.
Mayuri was just about to reply when she caught sight of two more figures approaching from the other side of the street.
More precisely, one large figure and one small one.
The smaller one was a boy with messy dark brown hair, wearing an ordinary student's jacket and trousers. His face was pale, the circles under his eyes were dark, and his steps were unsteady, as though he had not slept all night.
Waver Velvet.
The larger one...
Mayuri nearly laughed.
Iskandar wore dark blue trousers and a white crew-neck T-shirt.
A colorful world map was printed across the shirt's chest, with bold black lettering beneath it: Daisenryaku.
The shirt was very large, with more than enough room for a normal adult man.
But on Iskandar, who stood over two meters tall with frighteningly broad shoulders, the fabric was still stretched taut. The sleeves gripped his thick arms tightly, looking ready to split at any moment.
The King of Conquerors strode down the shopping street, his short red hair conspicuous in the sunlight.
His amber eyes looked this way and that, and every so often he let out an "Oh" or a "Hmm."
Waver hurried along beside him with small steps, his expression practically spelling out, "Why did I come out with this guy?"
Iskandar was the first to notice Mayuri and Kid Gil.
More precisely, he first heard Kid Gil call her Miss Angel.
The King of Conquerors could hear his Master's cries for help even on a battlefield. Voices a dozen or so meters away on a quiet shopping street were nothing to him.
He stopped and looked at Mayuri first.
A girl with long, pale golden hair, a cream-colored hoodie, and a convenience store plastic bag in her hand.
Then he looked at Kid Gil.
A boy with blond hair and red eyes, a lollipop in his mouth and a stuffed Shiba Inu in his arms.
An angel.
Iskandar quickly went over it in his head.
That blond Servant hovering in midair at the harbor the night before last, the Tohsaka Family's Caster.
This brat called her Miss Angel, so that lined up.
A Servant suspected of being an angel-that was quite a background.
The King of Conquerors cleared his throat.
The sound was not loud, yet it carried over all the noise on the shopping street.
Waver's shoulders jerked, and several passing pedestrians turned to look at the giant of a man who looked as though he had charged straight out of a gym.
"What a coincidence!"
Iskandar made no attempt whatsoever to lower his voice.
"Isn't this the Tohsaka Family's young lady?"
He tipped his chin at Mayuri, then turned his gaze toward Kid Gil.