MMMS 92

“Iri? Irisviel? Heiress of the Einzbern family?” Ryuuto trailed after her, calling out as she stormed off in a huff.

The celebration had ended… poorly.

His so-called “proposal” had gone over like a lead balloon.

Artoria had raised her voice louder than ever. Morgan’s glare had turned colder than ice. Both sisters left the table, fuming.

He’d only barely managed to keep Irisviel from leaving too—by hugging her from behind.

“Lancer and Caster were both driven off because of your careless words. Are you even reflecting on that?” She stopped and turned, arms planted on her hips as she stared him down.

"Yeah, yeah, I’m reflecting!" He threw on his most pitiful expression. "Gomen nasai deshita. I won’t say anything like that again, promise."

"This isn’t about what you say! It’s about what you think!" The crimson in her eyes blazed. "You’re the one winning every battle—and you’re the one thinking of giving up the Grail!? That’s unforgivable!"

He nearly said it.

‘Because I don’t need the Grail.’

But what was the point? He hadn’t joined this war for the wish. He just wanted the experience—the tension, the chaos, the thrill. The so-called prize at the end? A cursed cup steeped in black mud? Not interested.

But saying that out loud—telling them, "Your deepest wish is garbage to me"—would only make them more upset.

Even if he tried to explain, none of them would accept it.

Especially not Morgan.

He knew it—deep down, all three of them wanted him to be the one who held the Grail in the end.

So he stood there, playing dumb.

Irisviel drew in a breath, clearly ready to keep scolding him—

But he cut her off.

"Iri. How are you feeling? Physically, I mean."

"...Huh? I’m fine. I’m obviously—wha...?"

Her words slurred as her knees buckled.

Ryuuto caught her just in time, steadying her as she slumped into his arms, leaning against his shoulder.

He’d noticed something was off since they left the restaurant. Even long after finishing their meal, a faint sheen of sweat still clung to her forehead.

She must’ve been too caught up in the heat of the argument to realize her body was reaching its limit.

"Urgh..." Irisviel staggered slightly, clutching her side.

"I’ll call a cab."

He didn’t wait for her to argue. He slipped an arm around her waist, guiding her toward the nearest street.

As they moved through the quiet city lights, she whispered between shallow breaths, "Ryuuto... I know a temporary safehouse nearby. Let’s go there."

The ride was short. When the cab finally rolled to a stop, he stepped out and blinked up at the sight before him.

"...This place is—"

His words caught in his throat.

A sprawling traditional Japanese estate stood quietly under the moonlight, like something ripped from a historical film set. Elegant wooden gates, tiled rooftops, paper-paneled windows, and a stone path leading through a sleeping garden.

He recognized it immediately.

The Emiya residence.

Even knowing it from memory, from fiction, from Fate itself—standing before it in person was something else.

“It was purchased after the Grail War began,” she said, leaning into him. “No one’s had time to prepare it for living… it might be dusty. Or cold.”

Her eyes drifted toward the house.

"It’s fine. We’re just staying the night." he tightened his grip around her waist, feeling her weight press into him.

Together, they crossed the stone path in silence.

"...Um, Ryuuto." Her voice was soft—almost inaudible—as she leaned against him, cheeks flushed. "The key... it’s in my inner shirt pocket. The one... in the chest area."

There was a pause.

A beat of awkward silence.

Ryuuto blinked.

Then nodded.

"...Understood. Pardon me, then."

He swallowed, carefully loosening her coat with trembling fingers. The silence around them magnified every sound—the rustle of fabric, the soft hitch in her breath, the unsteady exhale that brushed his neck.

Irisviel stiffened slightly, but didn’t pull away. Her cheeks were burning, and her fingers clenched faintly in his sleeve.

“…Just… be quick,” she whispered, voice barely audible, almost shaky.

His hand slipped past the lapel, brushing against the inner layer of her shirt.

Her breath caught again—shallow and uneven—and for a moment, her forehead rested against his shoulder. Whether from dizziness or something else, he couldn’t tell.

Three full minutes passed.

Too long for a simple key.

Finally, his fingers closed around something metallic.

"...Found it."

But just as he began to withdraw his hand from the warmth of her coat—

"...Milady?"

A voice—cold and familiar—cut through the quiet.

Ryuuto froze.

They both turned.

Standing a few meters away was a tall woman with short, dark hair and a blade-straight posture. Her expression was cold, unreadable—but her voice had cracked slightly in surprise.

She was Maiya Hisau.

Her calculating eyes locked onto Irisviel, then drifted to Ryuuto. Her expression shifted—flickering through confusion, realization...

And then—

Hatred.

"...You." Her tone turned sharp. "Step away from the lady."

Before either of them could react, the night rang with a metallic click.

A gunshot shattered the silence.

A 9mm round wasn’t much. Barely enough to stop a trained soldier—let alone a man whose existence blurred the line between human and legend.

But rage had its own momentum.

For a moment, Maiya forgot the truth. Forgot the difference between them. All she saw was the man holding Irisviel—the woman she had sworn to protect.

Bang!

The muzzle flash lit the dark.

Ryuuto sighed, almost disappointed. ‘Why does this kind of crap always happen to me?’

He twisted his body, pulling Irisviel tightly into his arms and turning his back to the barrel.

He could’ve dodged it. That part would’ve been easy.

But this?

This was flashier.

And sometimes, flair was worth the risk.

Let’s hope someone appreciates the gesture.

He braced for impact—

And then—

“No!”

Irisviel moved.

Without warning, she shoved him aside.

Ryuuto stumbled, completely caught off guard. The world tilted, then slammed into his butt as he hit the ground.

Crack!

The gunshot tore through the silence, louder this time—closer.

A sharp gasp escaped Irisviel’s lips.

Blood splattered across the pale white of her coat, blooming like a rose unfolding in fast-forward.

Her body jerked, then wavered.

She’d taken the bullet. For him.

“Iri!”

“Milady…?!”

No one saw it coming.

All he could see was the red soaking into Irisviel’s clothes, dripping onto the snow-dusted ground.

Maiya stood frozen, unable to process what had just happened. Her gun still trembled in her hand, but her expression had gone blank.

Why?

Why would she protect him?

“…Goddammit.”

Ryuuto grit his teeth and sprang to his feet.

Wind kicked up around him as he closed the distance in a flash. One moment he was ten steps away, the next he was right in front of her.

He grabbed Maiya’s wrist, yanked her clean off the ground, and slammed her into the dirt like a ragdoll.

“Guh—!”

Her back hit hard. The shock rippled through her body, knocking the air from her lungs and drawing blood from her lips.

But he didn’t stop.

He wrenched her arm behind her, twisting until it cracked. Her own Glock was forced beneath her chin, the cold metal digging into her throat.

His finger slid over the trigger.

“Ryuuto—please, don’t kill her!”