MMMS 118

“I really… have become quite strange.”

The words slipped out before Artoria could stop them. She wasn’t even sure who she was talking to—herself, maybe. The steam rose around her, softening the air, but it didn’t blur the strange warmth stirring in her chest.

She hadn’t forgotten what Ryuuto truly was.

A Beast.

A calamity born to end the world.

In her mind, a Beast should’ve been a nightmare made flesh—some monstrous dragon blackened by sin, or a grotesque form crawling out of myth. Something she could point her blade at without hesitation.

But Ryuuto wasn’t that.

He was lazy when he could get away with it. Smug, certainly. And too indulgent by half. But not evil.

And somewhere along the way, she’d stopped keeping her distance.

She’d always lived for others. For her kingdom. For her ideals. Even after death, she hadn’t changed—she became something even less human. A tool for judgment. A blade wrapped in divine titles.

She was summoned to eliminate evil.

That had been her only purpose.

But now…

‘If Ryuuto disappeared, would the world really be better for it?’

“That child hasn’t done anything wrong,” she said quietly, her fingers stirring the bathwater.

She shifted, the movement sending ripples through the tub, her body swaying gently beneath the surface. But just as the heat lulled her into deeper thought, the bathroom door swung open with a clack.

“Ah—!”

She sprang to her feet, water sloshing violently. Her stance snapped into instinct—shoulders squared, ready for battle—before she recognized the intruder.

Ryuuto.

And barely clothed, no less. A towel hung low around his waist, droplets of water still clinging to his collarbone from his own bath.

“M-Master!?”

He blinked at her. “Good evening, Lancer. You don’t have to stand on ceremony for me…”

His gaze flicked—couldn’t help it.

Artoria’s wet skin glowed under the light. Golden hair clung to her neck. Her breasts, only half-covered by her arms, shimmered above the waterline like something carved from moonstone.

The sight left him momentarily breathless.

Her Majesty the King, in full regal form—bare, beautiful, and completely unprepared to receive guests.

Artoria dropped like an anchor back into the tub, face blazing red. She crossed her arms over her chest again, trying to disappear beneath the surface.

“W-Why are you in here!? This is my bathroom! Get out now! If you don’t—I’ll have to be very rude!”

She sank lower in the tub, but it was a losing battle.

Her body was simply too tall, her figure too well-developed. No matter how much she tried to hide, the water only came up so far. Her smooth shoulders stayed exposed. Her thighs, drawn slightly inward, still shimmered just above the surface. Her chest—regal, uncooperative, and very much present—refused to disappear beneath the waves.

She had never resented her body quite like this before.

Ryuuto stood at the doorway with both hands on his hips, a towel slung low on his waist and no hint of shame anywhere in sight.

“Iri said you had something important to say,” he said. “So I came over.”

“Eh…? I was planning to talk to you, but—who just walks into someone else’s bathroom!? Why didn’t you wait in my room!?”

“Because I just finished bathing at Iri’s place,” he said, completely unfazed. “Came straight here in a towel. I was freezing. Your room was empty, and I saw your laundry basket—figured I could sneak in a second bath and warm up. You wouldn’t seriously send me back out into the cold, right?”

His delivery was too casual. Too smooth.

Artoria’s stomach tightened.

“…Wait. Master.”

Her voice lowered.

“You just said… you bathed. Together with Irisviel?”

“Yeah.”

He nodded without hesitation.

Half true.

He’d used Iri’s bath, sure.

But the part about bathing together was a comfortable lie.

“Mm…”

Artoria’s toes rubbed together beneath the water as she turned her head, trying to act indifferent. Her cheeks, however, were already flushing a dangerous red.

She didn’t know what frustrated her more—Ryuuto’s calm reply, or her own reaction to it.

It wasn’t like she wanted to be bothered. It wasn’t like she cared what he did with Irisviel. Not really. And yet…

“…In that case,” she muttered, barely audible, “you may enter and bathe too. But you’re not allowed in the tub.”

Ryuuto blinked. “I was planning on that even if you didn’t say it.”

He stepped inside, sat down directly in front of the shower, and turned it on. Warm water poured over his back and shoulders as he started washing himself. No teasing. No lingering glances. Just a normal bath.

Which somehow made Artoria relax.

And—if she was honest with herself—a little disappointed.

So today, he truly didn’t have anything improper in mind. Not after the exercise he’d had with Irisviel in her bedroom.

She sank deeper into the bath, letting the steam blur her vision.

“By the way, Lancer,” he said between rinses, “what was it you wanted to talk to me about?”

“…”

She didn’t answer right away.

Her eyes drifted toward him, still standing beneath the running shower. Water streamed down his back, pooling at the base of his spine before running off in smooth lines.

Come to think of it… this was the first time she’d seen her Master’s body. The body of a boy.

His arms were slender, almost delicate. No sign of heavy training. His skin, pale and unscarred, held a faint glow in the mist. Even wet, he looked more like a sculpture of androgynous beauty than a young man.

In fact, he reminded her of herself at fifteen—still poised on the line between youth and adulthood, before war and kingship carved her into something harder.

She swallowed.

Her gaze drifted lower.

To his waist.

And then—

“…Ugh!”

Her head snapped away, face flushing a deep crimson.

‘Why is only that part already so… so grown-up!?’

She clutched the edge of the tub like it might stabilize her thoughts.

“Cer—Lancer? Did you hear me?” Ryuuto called over his shoulder, voice half-lost beneath the splash of water.

“W-What…? Sorry, what did you just say?” she stammered, finally yanking herself out of the downward spiral her brain had chosen to plummet into.

But just as the words left her lips, a sudden light flared through the foggy bathroom window—white and brilliant.

A heartbeat later:

Rumble… rumble…

Thunder rolled across the forest beyond the castle walls. And then—without warning—the entire bathroom went dark. The lights flickered once, then died.

“Enemy attack!?” she shot upright, water spilling in all directions. Her eyes darted, alert and sharp.

Ryuuto remained perfectly calm, still lathering his hair with a head full of shampoo.

“No. All the enemy Servants are gone. That lightning strike probably just hit the main generator. Power outage.”

She blinked. Her body, slick with bathwater, was halfway into a combat stance.