Shirou Emiya — Doesn't Want to Work Overtime!

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! Waaaahhh!"

The moment Suma's loud sobbing echoed through the corridor, a few geisha who weren't entertaining customers rushed over, lifting both her and Shirou up from the floor.

"Don't cry. You're lucky it was Shirou-san you bumped into. If it had been a real guest, the okā-san would've thrown a fit."

One of the geisha patted Suma's back soothingly.

"Shirou-san, come with us. You're soaked—if you don't mind, we'll find you something dry to change into."

A few others gathered around Shirou, inspecting his drenched clothes like tailors sizing up a client, whispering amongst themselves as if trying to judge whether they were salvageable.

C-Could you not… touch all over me like that? This is kind of embarrassing…

"..."

Honestly, Shirou wanted to refuse.

He was here to ask the okā-san about Kaori's whereabouts. The restaurant owner had locked his lodgings for the day, so he couldn't go back to change either. After thinking it over, he sighed.

There really wasn't another option.

Reluctantly, he nodded.

He couldn't very well traipse through someone's business dripping wet.

"Time to get changed! Come on, time to change~!"

Inside the room, Shirou felt deeply uncomfortable.

He was only fifteen—just a first-year at Homurahara Academy, for heaven's sake!

Not that he was blushing or flustered—he just felt awkward as hell. Even getting changed wasn't safe from peeking eyes.

Originally, Shirou hadn't drawn this much attention. He was just a hardworking young man who happened to be good at fixing plumbing.

But Shirou was also extremely disciplined. Between part-time jobs and helping others, he maintained a rigorous training regimen back at home.

And ever since trying to master Breathing Techniques, he had been holed up constantly experimenting and training on his own.

With no teacher, he could only rely on instinct—learning step by step, stumbling through trial and error.

And unfortunately, the locals here had very… open-door habits. Some of them would just barge into his quarters unannounced when seeking help.

Which meant more than one person had gotten an unexpected eyeful of Shirou mid-workout, shirtless and drenched in sweat.

Clothed, Shirou looked like any other soft-spoken young man—much like Tanjiro in his Demon Slayer uniform. But once the outer layer came off…

His physique—balanced, lean, and naturally sculpted—combined with his calmly handsome features, had ignited more than a few people's very specific tastes.

Strength. Chivalry. Domestic competence. Too much muscle. No—just the right amount.

Ahem.

Let's return to the main story.

After changing into dry clothes—under the lingering, disappointed gazes of the geisha—Shirou quickly made his way to the okā-san.

"Kaori from Asakusa? She snuck out again?!"

The madam slammed the table in fury, puffing sharply on her pipe.

"This is the third time this month! If Ojuhime finds out, that girl's life won't be worth a sen! Damn it!"

She stood halfway up, then sat down again. Her pipe shook as she inhaled and exhaled in rapid succession. Sweat glistened at her temples.

Creaaak.

The door opened quietly.

A breeze of laughter floated in from the corridor.

A group of young girls—barely more than children—turned the corner, surrounding a figure who walked with grace and splendor.

This woman didn't dress like the other geisha. Her robes shimmered with intricate embroidery, resplendent and ethereal—like a goddess in human form. Her beauty was arresting.

And at the head of the group, surrounded by the girls like a little shadow…

…Was Kaori.

"Shirou-san, I'm sorry for the trouble Kaori's caused."

The woman smiled gently, covering her mouth with a fan as she spoke to Shirou, who still sat across from the madam.

She gestured lightly, and one of the girls at her side stepped forward, handing over a pouch of coins.

"She made you spend quite a bit. Please allow us to repay you."

She stood perfectly still, voice calm and poised, with a trace of apology.

Shirou relaxed. Kaori was safe.

"No, it's really no trouble. I actually enjoyed walking around with her."

Faced with such a courteous woman, Shirou felt it inappropriate to bring up the marks he'd seen on Kaori. If he'd walked in on her being abused, he'd have stepped in without hesitation.

But now that the woman was being so polite, and especially with the okā-san present, it felt wrong to call her out in public.

More than anything, it was about timing—and respect.

Still…

The madam beside him looked terrified, like she'd just seen something monstrous. She sat upright, barely breathing, her pipe frozen between her fingers.

Even Kaori, usually so animated, had gone silent—head bowed like a child who'd just been scolded.

"Then I'll look forward to your next visit, Shirou-san. Perhaps tomorrow? I've always wanted to try your cooking. Sadly, I rarely get to eat outside."

Ojuhime smiled again, a breathtaking expression that could have stopped hearts.

But no one present was moved by it.

"Sure. Tomorrow works. I'm not too busy at the moment. Besides, I owe Kaori for not finishing our food tour."

Shirou ruffled Kaori's hair with a hand.

Drip.

A droplet of clear liquid hit the floor by Kaori's feet.

Shirou crouched again, gently tilting her chin up.

Kaori trembled beneath his touch, her mouth clenched shut, veins bulging on her forehead. Saliva trickled down both sides of her lips, pooling on the floor below.

"You ate so much and you're still hungry?"

Shirou frowned, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe her mouth.

He didn't notice the murderous glare Ojuhime was giving him from above.

Behind him, the madam held her breath, praying she hadn't drawn attention.

Meanwhile, crouched in front of Kaori, Shirou noticed something else—her skin.

It was no longer so bony and pale.

She looked… healthier. Her limbs rounder. The frailty from when they first met had faded.

Guess all that food finally started to pay off. Her body's getting nutrients again, starting to grow normally.

That was his assumption, anyway.

But then—

A sharp voice came from the doorway.

"Oww!"