Reborn in Type-Moon: Starting by Adopting Sakura - Chapter 19

"The way someone chants tells you a lot about who they are," Yuu explained. "Some magi get so attached to their particular style that it becomes a kind of mental trap. In some cases, it even turns into a binding ‘curse’ of their own making."

He studied Sakura's face, making sure she was following along. "That's why I want you to understand the fundamentals first. Don't get caught up in fancy wordplay. Find the essential parts and build from there."

"I understand, Onii-sama," Sakura said, nodding.

Her serious expression made him smile. "That said, there are times when longer incantations are worth it. The more you build up that mental focus, the more power you can channel. It's all about knowing when the situation calls for it."

They spent the next few hours working through the fundamentals—how to layer multiple incantations, the timing that could make or break a spell, the ways magical circuits connected to the physical world around them. She paid attention to every word, and moments like this reminded Yuu why teaching her felt worth it.

The early morning light had shifted from red to warm gold by the time he decided they'd covered enough ground.

"Alright, that's enough for today," Yuu said, raising his hand.

Sakura felt the bounded field dissolve around them like a soap bubble popping. Suddenly they were back in the familiar workshop, surrounded by shelves of relics and mysterious objects that she'd never paid much attention to before. If she'd been more experienced, she might have noticed that every single item in the room was positioned according to some elaborate ritual pattern.

"How's the programming coming along?" Yuu asked, switching topics so casually that it took her a moment to adjust.

Sakura's enthusiasm dimmed immediately. While magecraft seemed to come naturally to her, programming was a different beast. She was doing well for a five-year-old, certainly better than most kids her age would manage, but that didn't make C++ any less frustrating.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, looking down at her hands. "I'm trying, but—"

Yuu reached over and messed up her hair gently. "Hey, don't apologize. You're doing fine. Just keep at it, okay? Show me whatever progress you can."

"Yes, Onii-sama," she said, some of the tension leaving her shoulders.

…

Tokyo Haneda International Airport.

The Vorale Airlines flight from Germany landed at Tokyo Haneda with the usual screech of tires and whine of reversing engines. Irisviel von Einzbern pressed her face to the small airplane window, watching the tarmac roll by as they taxied toward the gate.

She'd left behind a castle buried in snow, but here the December sky stretched clear and blue above the airport. Winter sunlight poured through the terminal windows, warmer somehow than anything she'd felt back home in the Einzbern estate.

“So this is where Mr. Yuu lives now?” she murmured to herself, gathering her things as the seatbelt sign clicked off.

The Holy Grail War was coming. Everyone knew how these things went for the Einzberns—they'd pour everything into it, sacrifice whatever needed sacrificing, and somehow still come up short. Whether they won or lost this time, the homunculi like her weren't exactly destined for happy endings.

But that was exactly why she'd decided to be selfish, just this once. Before everything went to hell, before duty and destiny caught up with her again, she wanted to see him. Just wanted to be Irisviel for a little while, not the Einzbern Master or the vessel or whatever other role they'd carved out for her.

She'd even dressed the part. No flowing white gowns or elaborate nobility cosplay this time—she'd raided what passed for "casual wear" in the family wardrobe. A knee-length wool skirt, leather boots that didn't have heels you could kill someone with, a cream-colored sweater. It felt revolutionary, like she was playing dress-up as a normal person.

Of course, when your idea of dressing down still involved a silver fox fur coat that probably cost more than most people's cars, you weren't exactly blending into the crowd. The silk scarf draped around her shoulders probably didn't help either, nor did the fact that she looked like she'd stepped out of a fairy tale.

The attention followed her from the gate to baggage claim to the taxi stand outside. Business travelers paused mid-phone call. A group of college students stared so openly she wondered if she had something on her face. Even trying to be just another passenger, she still drew gazes like winter moonlight given human form.

She turned heads wherever she went, but there was something about her presence—pure and untouchable as fresh snow—that kept people from actually approaching. They'd steal glances, sure, but nobody seemed brave enough to actually walk up and start a conversation.

Maybe it had something to do with the woman walking beside her.

Black business suit, perfectly tailored. Cold green eyes that seemed to take in everything around them without missing a detail. There was an aura about her that made people instinctively step aside, like their bodies knew they were in the presence of someone important before their brains caught up.

"Lancer, how did you find the flight?" Irisviel asked as they made their way through the terminal.

"Boring," Artoria replied flatly. "More so than I expected."

"Really? I thought flying might be a new experience for you." Irisviel walked a few steps ahead, hands clasped behind her back like a kid on a field trip. "Sorry for dragging you all the way to Tokyo on a whim.”

"It's fine," she said, though her tone suggested she was still trying to figure out why exactly they were here.

Irisviel glanced at Artoria, her eyes warm with amusement. “I guess for a Heroic Spirit, flying’s nothing special.”

Most Masters would’ve taken the long way—cargo ships, private vessels, roundabout routes meant to dodge attention. But she and Artoria had flown straight in, posing as a pair of tourists. That alone probably made them an anomaly.

Of course, that was only possible because Artoria couldn’t shift into spirit form. And honestly, Irisviel didn’t mind.

Actually, she was a little grateful.

Her gaze drifted over Artoria’s current outfit—plain, a little severe, but with a strange sort of charm that made her look like a model who'd taken a wrong turn at a historical exhibit.

“Traveling with you like this is... really nice,” Irisviel said. “I don’t think I could ever get tired of looking at you.”

Artoria blinked. “Pardon?”

Irisviel laughed gently. “Just saying, being stuck in physical form isn’t the worst thing. This way, I get to dress you up.”

Artoria gave her a look. Not quite a scowl, but definitely not approval.

Irisviel took that as a win.

“Let’s stop by Akihabara,” she said. “We’re already in Tokyo. Might as well enjoy ourselves a little before the war ruins everything.”

Back in the '80s, Akihabara had been all about home appliances—bulky TVs, cassette decks, overpriced microwaves. But now, just a few years into the '90s, things were changing fast. The new LAOX Computer Hall had six floors of silicon dreams and blinking CRTs. It was the kind of place you could lose an afternoon in—and for someone like Sakura, probably the perfect spot to start learning code.

The wind picked up, soft and dry, carrying the clear sound of wind chimes from the veranda.

Out front, Manaka stood in the shade, wearing a black-and-white maid uniform and holding a bamboo broom like a staff. She paused, brushing a strand of hair away from her face as she looked at the new arrivals.

“You’re here to see Master?” she asked.

Her voice was polite, but not exactly welcoming. Her eyes—dark, curious—settled first on Irisviel, then on the blonde woman beside her.

Artoria didn’t move or speak, but her presence hit like a blade half-drawn. It wasn’t something you could see—it just pressed in, like standing too close to a storm.