Reborn in Type-Moon: Starting by Adopting Sakura - Chapter 16

"You weirdo! Stop being so obsessed with your teacher!"

Another heated argument erupted from downstairs.

Since the New Year, this had become a regular weekend tradition, happening about every other visit. Yuu had long since stopped bothering to react to it. Being popular was nice and all, but Misaya was still just a kid, and her father was an old friend of his.

Down in the living room, Manaka was wearing one of her sweetest smiles while staring down the furious little girl.

"I'm so sorry, but Master specifically said he's reading an important ancient text right now. Nobody's allowed to go upstairs except for me."

Technically, that was true—though Yuu had actually finished his reading about an hour ago. He just didn't feel like getting dragged into their drama. Plus, a little bit of conflict was probably good for building character.

Poor Sakura, who usually managed to stay out of trouble by keeping her nose buried in her books, had somehow gotten caught right in the middle of their argument. She looked completely overwhelmed and had no idea how to handle the situation. It was pretty amusing to watch—though of course, Yuu was really just hoping this would help her develop better social skills.

Sakura had always been a quiet, reserved child who didn't really know how to deal with other people her age, especially strong personalities like Misaya and Manaka. She'd never had to navigate this kind of interpersonal drama before, never learned how to mediate between two people who clearly couldn't stand each other, or how to assert herself without just running away. Watching her try to figure out whether she should say something to help, pick a side, or just quietly slip out of the room was actually pretty instructive.

These kinds of messy social situations were exactly what she needed to experience while the stakes were still low. Better for her to learn how to handle stubborn people and petty arguments now, when it was just weekend drama in a bookstore, than to be completely helpless when she eventually had to deal with real politics in the magical world.

Speaking of Sakura, Yuu found his thoughts drifting to Tokiomi, who was probably still back in Fuyuki preparing for the upcoming Holy Grail War. Now that Yuu had given him that snake skin that had once consumed the herb of immortality, Tokiomi would almost certainly end up summoning Gilgamesh.

Knowing how obsessed Tokiomi was with perfection and proper procedure, he'd probably use additional incantations during the summoning ritual to improve his chances of getting one of the three high-specification Servant classes: Saber, Lancer, or Archer.

Most of them were Heroic Spirits from the Age of Gods, back when mystery was far more abundant than it was in the modern world. As a result, their magical resistance was absolutely overwhelming—modern magi wouldn't even be able to scratch them, no matter what kind of spells they threw around. In other words, if Gilgamesh actually answered a summoning, he'd almost certainly manifest under one of those three high-tier classes.

But based on everything Yuu knew about Gilgamesh, and his understanding of how the Holy Grail War actually worked, none of those classes would be a good fit for the King of Heroes. The problem was that those configurations would probably summon the version of Gilgamesh from before his famous quest for immortality—the arrogant, contemptuous bastard who looked down on absolutely everyone and everything. Basically, the worst possible personality you could want in a Servant.

If Yuu had been the one doing the summoning, he would have tried to get Gilgamesh as a Caster instead. That would give him a much better chance of summoning the version that had returned from his journey seeking immortality, the one who had actually grown into a wise king that his people genuinely loved and respected.

Sure, Heroic Spirits were usually summoned in their prime state by default, but with the right incantation, it was possible to nudge things in a particular direction. Whether that actually worked or not was mostly down to luck, but it was worth trying.

Yuu thought about it for a while and finally decided to write a letter to Tokiomi, including a brief summoning incantation that might help.

Honestly, he really didn't want to get involved. Tokiomi had the kind of personality where even a well-meaning suggestion could be taken as an insult, and Yuu had better things to do than deal with wounded pride. But this was for Sakura's sake, so he picked up his pen anyway.

Two days later, Tokiomi was sitting in his study when he opened the envelope bearing Yuu's distinctive seal. The letter started with the usual polite greetings, then moved on to updates about how Sakura was settling into life in Tokyo. At the very end, almost like an afterthought, Yuu had included his thoughts on the upcoming Holy Grail War.

Tokiomi read through everything slowly, then set the letter down and walked over to the window to look out at his garden.

He was the kind of man who carried himself with natural grace and dignity, someone who had been raised to be a proper noble from birth. That upbringing had given him a certain pride that bordered on arrogance, but it was the kind of pride that came with real responsibility and genuine accomplishment. Most of his adult life had been spent quietly working toward goals that other people couldn't even understand, swallowing disappointment and setbacks without complaint, turning every failure into fuel for his determination.

The Holy Grail War was the culmination of the Tohsaka family's century-long ambition. There was absolutely no room for others to interfere or meddle, no matter how well-intentioned.

"Yuu-kun should understand that better than anyone," Tokiomi murmured to himself.

He turned his head slightly and glanced back at the final page of the letter, which was lying in a patch of slanted afternoon sunlight. There, at the very bottom, was a single line written in Yuu's curved handwriting:

"O wise king who returned from the journey for immortality, whose eyes peer into the future."

Tokiomi's expression grew thoughtful as he folded his hands behind his back.

"And yet, even knowing how I feel about this, Yuu-kun still chose to write that letter anyway."

…

Yuu set down the ancient stone tablet that contained the Epic of Gilgamesh, which told the story of the king's life in what could roughly be divided into five distinct parts. The first section described the half-god, half-human Gilgamesh who ruled over Uruk as a complete tyrant. The second part focused on his decision to go after Humbaba, with Enkidu trying to talk him out of it while Gilgamesh convinced his friend to come along anyway. The third section showed Enkidu having prophetic dreams about divine punishment for killing both Humbaba and the Bull of Heaven, which led to him getting sick and eventually dying. This whole experience made Gilgamesh realize that even the strongest heroes had to face death eventually, which started him on his quest for immortality. The fourth part described Gilgamesh returning to Uruk with nothing to show for his journey, completely devastated by the loss of his closest friend.

All of that was pretty much what you'd expect from the traditional story.

But then there was this completely bizarre fifth section that claimed Gilgamesh had somehow transformed into a wise and beloved king who led his people in some kind of resistance against the "Three Goddesses."

The whole thing was so disconnected from everything that came before it that it felt like narrative whiplash. It was like if you were watching Fist of the North Star and suddenly one of the characters started shouting "Nico nico nii~" for no reason whatsoever.

Even though this version of the Gilgamesh story appeared on the same tablet as the rest, Yuu had serious doubts about whether it was actually authentic. Based on the descriptions, even the other two goddesses mentioned didn't really match up with what he knew about Sumerian mythology.

But that was exactly what made archaeological work so interesting—you got to peel back all these layers of mystery and contradiction to try and figure out what had actually happened. At the very least, the first four sections gave him a solid foundation for understanding Gilgamesh's character development.

"Hopefully Tokiomi will pay attention to at least some of what I wrote," Yuu muttered to himself.