Reborn in Type-Moon: Starting by Adopting Sakura - Chapter 5

Breakfast was... relatively normal.

Soft, fluffy steamed buns. Elegantly twisted fried dough sticks. Rich, fragrant soy milk steaming gently from porcelain cups.

Manaka had taught herself to cook all kinds of dishes just to stay here. Her skills were impeccable—one of the main reasons Yuu hadn’t sent her away. Constantly eating out was a hassle, and he had no interest in hiring a maid.

He took a bite, then glanced across the table. “Sakura, did you sleep well?”

“Mm…” The little girl gave a shy nod, her legs dangling from the tall chair.

She kept stealing glances at the girl sitting across from her—the one who had made breakfast, smiling so gently. So beautifully. But every now and then, when their eyes met, Sakura felt something cold crawl down her spine.

She lowered her head and focused on her food, answering only when Yuu spoke directly to her.

He took another bite and observed her quietly. Still nervous. But that would pass with time, he figured.

Turning to his assistant, he said, “Manaka, I’ll be heading to the Reiroukan today. I might not make it back for lunch. As her senpai, I want you to look after Sakura.”

Manaka smiled. “Of course, Master.”

After a short pause, he added, “And take her outside. Let her get used to the neighborhood.”

She nodded gracefully, like a well-mannered noble lady.

Sakura’s lips parted, just slightly. She looked like she wanted to say something.

Manaka noticed it instantly. “Is something wrong?” she asked, her tone light, her smile unchanging.

Sakura flinched and gripped the hem of her skirt. “N-no... nothing.”

Yuu stood and picked up his coat. “I’ll be off, then.”

“Have a safe trip, Master,” Manaka said sweetly, rising just enough to offer a perfect little bow.

…

9:36 a.m.

Tokyo – Reiroukan Main Estate

The mansion looked like it had been transplanted from Europe. White stone walls, arched windows, and a roof of weathered slate. It didn’t just stick out in Tokyo—it made the whole street feel like the wrong country. The kind of place you'd expect to see in a political drama, not tucked behind hedges in Minato Ward.

But it wasn’t the house that mattered. It was the name behind it—Reiroukan. One of the oldest magus bloodlines in the Far East. Not just powerful in the thaumaturgical sense, but politically entrenched. They had fingers in every pie worth touching—ministries, corporate boards, even a few places that didn’t officially exist.

As the wrought-iron gates opened with a quiet hum, Yuu stepped through without hesitation. The front path curved gently past trimmed hedges and a koi pond that mirrored the mansion’s white stone walls. He didn’t slow down until he reached the garden, where a young girl turned at the sound of his footsteps.

Her face lit up the moment she saw him.

“Uncle Yuu! You came!” she said, racing toward him with a bright grin. “Look, I finally learned it!”

Misaya was about seven, maybe eight. Her long black hair shimmered in the sun, strands catching the light like threads of silk. Crimson eyes met his—bright and sharp, too clever for a kid her age.

She stopped in front of him, catching her breath, then held out both hands like she was about to show off a magic trick.

“Watch!”

She took a small breath, straightened her back, and began the chant.

“Shape ist Leben.”

Her hair fluttered—not from wind, but from mana. Threads peeled loose from her locks like strands being spun from shadow itself. They twisted in the air, weaving together into the shape of a winged creature. In seconds, they had formed a creature no bigger than a cat: an obsidian eagle, detailed down to its sharp beak and tiny feathered wings.

This was the same magecraft Yuu had learned years ago—from a little girl who once gave him a tour of the Einzbern Castle workshop. Misaya’s crimson eyes reminded him of hers. The resemblance wasn’t just in color—it was in the way they lit up when they cast something right.

Back then, the old head of the Einzbern family, Jubstacheit von Einzbern, had told Yuu that Irisviel was their finest creation. Their masterpiece. But Yuu suspected that masterpiece had come into the world earlier than planned. Likely because of the deal he’d made with them. Without it, they wouldn’t have opened their workshop to an outsider—let alone handed over internal magecraft.

Misaya’s spell didn’t come close to Irisviel’s. The eagle she’d formed was unstable, flapping erratically as it hovered just above her palms. It wobbled midair before landing with a soft pap in the grass.

Still…

“Not bad,” Yuu said.

Her face lit up again. “Then—! Uncle Yuu, will you accept me as your apprentice now?”

Yuu folded his arms. “Hmm… in terms of magecraft, your father’s among the top magi in the Far East. You’d be better off learning from him.”

Misaya’s expression fell apart like a popped balloon. She grabbed onto his pant leg, clutching it like a protest sign.

“You liar! Big liar! You said if I learned that spell, you’d be my Master!”

Yuu sighed, raising a hand to his temple. What he actually said was: “Learn this spell first.” He hadn't realized she’d already turned that into a blood contract.

He didn’t need to raise his voice. “Misaya. That’s enough.”

A man stepped into view from the garden path. His black suit was crisp, the kind that didn’t wrinkle even after a long day. Sharp lines, simple cut—more diplomat than aristocrat.

He looked a little like Tokiomi Tohsaka—same sharp features, same unreadable gaze. But the resemblance ran deeper than appearance. There was something about the way he stood, hands clasped behind his back, as if he were already disappointed with everyone in the room.

“No more tantrums,” he said without looking at her. “Go to the study and transcribe Codex Thaumaturgica three times. I’ll inspect your work this evening.”

Chastened by her father’s voice, Misaya reluctantly released Yuu’s arm. She shot him a pout, tugged down her lower eyelid with one finger, stuck out her tongue, and stomped off across the grass in her white stockings.

“My apologies,” Lord Reiroukan said with a faint sigh. “She can be a handful.”

“No need to apologize.” Yuu replied, amused. “She’s got a strong personality—that’s not a bad thing.”

“Please, have a seat.”

A white wrought-iron table and a matching set of chairs were arranged on the lawn. Reiroukan gestured toward them with courtesy.

As they sat, the older man glanced sideways at him. “You’ve been attracting attention lately. Even the Sajyou girl has expressed interest in apprenticing under you, hasn’t she?”

Yuu gave a small shrug, brushing it off. “Rumors tend to grow legs. But I didn’t come here to talk about that.”

He reached into his coat and pulled out an envelope.

“I’ve brought the amount we agreed on. Could you arrange the introduction to the seller?”

Reiroukan’s expression shifted. A brief pause. Just enough to raise a flag.

Yuu narrowed his eyes slightly. “...Is there a problem?”