Shirou Emiya — Doesn't Want to Work Overtime!

A sharp yelp and the heavy, suffocating atmosphere in the room instantly broke apart.

The madam, clutching her pipe with trembling hands, hurried to the doorway.

There, sprawled out flat on the ground, was the same woman who had earlier collided with Emiya Shirou—still clutching a cleaning rag, looking for all the world as if she'd just thrown herself down.

It seemed she'd been tasked with cleaning the corridor after clumsily spilling tea earlier. Now, just as she reached the doorway, she'd managed to trip and fall with a crash.

At least, that's what it looked like on the surface.

Whether there was something deeper to it, Shirou neither knew nor cared to speculate.

"Uu—! I'm sorry!"

Suma clutched her head, eyes welling up with fat tears, threatening to overflow.

"Stop crying! Why are you so timid? It was just a little accident—no one here is going to do anything to you!"

If it weren't for Suma's rather pretty face, the madam would have tossed her out of Tokijiro House ages ago. With a personality like that, she could barely manage a conversation with customers. Who'd want to chat with a geisha who burst into tears at the drop of a hat? Before you'd even exchanged a few words, you'd be stuck comforting her, wasting half the night.

The okā-san could only sigh inwardly, wishing she could toughen Suma up a little. It felt like a losing investment—Tokijiro House was never short on girls to serve.

"If there's nothing else, Kaori and I will be going now."

Ojuhime shifted her posture ever so slightly. On the surface, her words were impeccably polite, but everyone present could hear the underlying finality—there would be no arguing with her.

Even if something had come up, Ojuhime was never one to linger.

Well, unless Shirou felt like showing off his cooking right there—maybe then she'd stay.

Before long, Ojuhime, Asakusa Kaori, and their attendants left the room one by one.

As they reached the corridor, Ojuhime paused a moment beside Suma but said nothing. Watching from behind, Shirou had no way to tell what expression she wore as she glanced at Suma.

What was clear, though, was that this oiran's status here was extraordinary—even the madam deferred to her.

As long as Kaori's safe, that's good enough. I was really worried she'd get lost in the crowd, Shirou thought, watching Asakusa Kaori disappear down the corridor after Ojuhime. There were still too many questions he couldn't answer, but in the end, things had turned out alright.

He wasn't particularly interested in the famed oiran—no matter how odd the madam acted around her.

Shirou wasn't the type to pry into other people's secrets. There were all kinds of people in this world—kind, cruel, everything in between.

He had no interest in judging others by his own standards, and even less in imposing those standards on them.

Shirou didn't meddle in other people's lives. He just did his best to make sure the people around him didn't end up crying.

Just as he'd always tried to stop Shinji from hurting others, rather than wasting time trying to change Shinji's mind.

As the group left, the madam was still scolding the weeping Suma, who sat sniffling on the floor.

"Well, since Kaori-san is alright, I'll be going," Shirou said, having confirmed Kaori's safety. He saw no reason to linger.

The okā-san seemed to want to keep him, but Shirou merely thanked her and left Tokijiro House without another word.

For a freshly minted high school student, hanging around places like this isn't a good look, Shirou thought to himself as he hurried away…

Soon he found himself back at the entrance to the restaurant. The upstairs passage was open—seemed the owner didn't intend to lock him out for the night.

As he fished for his key and unlocked the door to his little room upstairs, Shirou mulled over everything that had happened that day.

The restaurant's second floor had two layers of security. The first: you couldn't even reach the stairs unless the boss unlocked the downstairs door. The second: a few trusted employees carried their own keys.

Of course, a door like that meant nothing to Shirou. With his physical conditioning, he could just climb the wall and get in through a window if he had to.

Not that he would, of course.

I should check on Kaori again tomorrow.

He couldn't be sure Kaori wouldn't face more abuse. On the surface, Ojuhime didn't seem violent, but the madam's strained expression said otherwise.

All I can do is hope nothing happens to her. There's really nothing I can do…

Just like with Shinji and Sakura, he thought bitterly. I could never keep Sakura away from Shinji, no matter how much I wanted to.

He'd often seen the bruises Shinji left on her.

Lost in these thoughts, Shirou practiced his reinforcement and projection magic, let himself absorb the feeling of Wind Breathing, and soon drifted off to sleep.

Night passed quietly.

But for many, that peace was only an illusion.

...

Morning sunlight spilled across the world as usual, warm and gentle. Every time it touched Shirou's face, it felt like a newborn being cradled by its mother—like invisible hands softly stroking his cheek, a comfort you couldn't help but crave.

Who could resist the sun?

But somewhere else, a resident lying in bed blinked groggily at the unexpected warmth.

Didn't I draw the curtains? After last night's party, all I wanted was a decent sleep…

But the dazzling light forced him to open his eyes.

"Who turned the lights on this early—ahh…"

Yawning, the man sat up in bed, rubbing his bleary eyes.

"…What the—?!"

"This… Am I dreaming?"

He slapped himself hard.

"Ow! Ow! That hurt—so I'm not dreaming!"

"Oh god—"

He forgot all about his stinging cheek. What he saw in front of him was enough to drive everything else out of his mind.

He was bathed in sunlight—and spread out before him was a massive, perfectly circular patch of bare earth.

It looked just like the destruction left by Shinra Tensei in Naruto: nothing left but emptiness.

That empty lot had once been a residential district, houses standing side by side.

This lucky—or unlucky—man had woken up right on the very edge.

He could see the smooth border right next to his bed, clean and precise, as if the land hadn't been cut or dug—no scattered soil, no broken wood.

The newborn sun quickly filled the empty space.

And as more and more residents woke up and took in the nightmare outside their windows, fear rippled through the crowd.

No one had any idea where the people who'd lived in all those houses had gone.