IBHJ 1116

"Mmm... This is so delicious~!"

Shirou turned from the fire, his bandaged face giving Artoria a weary look. She sat on a rock nearby, devouring her fish with pure joy. "Could you eat a little quieter?"

He should have known better - she'd almost fallen for his act until she remembered his pants. The same pants she'd apparently studied quite carefully before he knocked her out. That realization had led to her tackling him and pounding him with her fists. Now here he was, making peace offerings with grilled fish.

"Quiet, you." Artoria shook her fist at him. "Don't think a little fish will make up for everything. If you don't want another beating, you better keep the food coming."

"Yeah, yeah..." He sighed at her demands.

She took another bite, her eyes lighting up with delight. She struck a pose with her staff. "Behold - a beautiful witch with golden hair, enjoying food that makes even the moon jealous. Who could this brilliant and talented witch be? Why, it's me!"

Shirou stared at her. Indeed, you have a pretty face. Such a shame you're a weirdo.

With another sigh, he handed her the fresh fish. "Here, take it. Don't bother thanking me."

"Thank you? As if! We're not done with the whole ambush thing, Sh... Sh..." She stumbled over the sounds like a first-year language student before giving up. "Sherou!"

"Pfft!" He nearly choked. "It's Shirou, not Sherou!"

"Your name is weird - it's not my fault I can't say it," she said between bites of fish.

He shook his head. Even knowing this was the empire's Artoria didn't make it any easier to handle her.

The bushes rustled behind her. A massive boar burst out, charging straight at her back.

Before he could shout a warning, Artoria grabbed her staff and pulled out a hidden sword. Metal flashed, and the boar's head dropped to the ground.

"Trying to sneak up on me again? Too bad! A witch only falls for the same trick once."

Shirou stared at her. Great, more work.

He sighed, picked up the small knife she'd given him for the fish, and walked toward the dead boar.

"What are you doing, Sherou?" She watched him curiously.

"Making roasted boar. Isn't that what you want?"

"What? I didn't... wait." Her eyes went wide. "You can cook pork too?"

"Sure. Roasted, braised, stir-fried, shredded... quite a few ways."

Her eyes lit up like stars. "Are you some kind of master chef, Shirou?"

"No, just a traveler. Most of us learn to cook. Though without proper tools, roasted meat is all I can manage."

"I can fix that! I'll make whatever tools you need." She stared at him with pure delight - not seeing him as a person anymore, but as a walking restaurant.

His mouth twitched as he sighed. "Fine."

He was about to start on the boar when something hit him. "Wait, did you just say my name right?"

"Meat, oh meat, sweet little meat, big juicy meat, all my lovely meat..."

Artoria sat on her rock, singing to herself. He sighed - she was lost in her meat dreams now.

Working quickly, he butchered the magical boar. With Artoria's alchemy helping with the tools, he prepared dish after dish.

Skewers, braised meat, roasted ribs... The smells made Artoria drool as she stared at the feast, completely mesmerized.

"I'm done." He slumped against a tree with a yawn, watching her circle the food like an excited child, making happy noises.

It had been so long since he'd seen her this carefree.

But still—

"Please, no more boars." He closed his eyes. "I can't move another muscle."

Without the black mud or formless vortex, he felt his human body's limits.

Running from soldiers for half a day, swimming through rivers, facing the cold wind, going hungry... It was amazing his ordinary body, with no divine or dragon blood, hadn't given out yet.

He hadn't touched any of the meat. This Artoria wasn't his - she guarded her food fiercely, and he didn't want another beating.

Yet here he was, in this situation.

On British soil, of all places.

It hurt.

So tired, so cold... If he fell asleep now, he wouldn't end up at the Throne of Heroes... right?

As his eyes drifted shut, the smell of meat reached him. He opened them to find skewers held in front of his face.

"Is this..."

"You're not eating?" She waved the skewers. "Better hurry, or I'll take them back."

"No, I'll eat." He took them. "Just surprised you'd share food."

"What?" Her blue eyes narrowed. "Shirou, what kind of person do you think I am?"

What kind of person?

Do you really want to know?

Glutton, lioness, food hoarder, violence-loving maniac, weirdo, flat-chested, and a parallel version of my child's mother...

"I am Avalon's first human witch, sister to Apostle Pendragon, outstanding in character and studies, fair and just, with talents that shame the sun and entrance the moon."

He stared at her. Definitely a weirdo.

"I may be an apprentice now, but I will be a great witch like my sister – an Apostle!" She crossed her arms. "Facing someone as amazing as me, you actually suspected that I would be greedy and eat alone? I am offended!"

"Right, I see how noble you are now. Sorry for doubting you." He glanced at her skewer. "But you might want to eat that before it gets cold."

Better not to provoke her, he thought. Being Morgan's sister, she might have the same sadistic streak. Safer to stay on her good side.

She stuffed the meat in her mouth at his reminder, her cheeks bulging out like a chipmunk's. The tender chunks practically dissolved on her tongue - crispy on the outside but still perfectly pink in the middle. Savory juices dribbled down her chin while she wolfed it down, clearly loving every single bite.

"I'll let it slide this time. Next time you're getting turned into a frog."

Maybe chew before you talk? He smiled and shook his head.

When she finished eating, she tapped her staff on the ground. Mana pulsed through the air. The earth shifted, trees bent, and suddenly there stood a perfect wooden cabin, glowing with warm light from within.

"Time for bed..." She stretched and walked into the cabin. A moment later, she poked her head out, looking at Shirou who hadn't moved. "Aren't you cold and tired?"

"I am."

"Then come inside!"

"...That wouldn't be proper, would it?"

"What's improper about it?"

Her blue eyes held nothing but genuine confusion.

Something clicked for him then. Different person, different personality, but Artoria is Artoria. Those innocent eyes, that inherently good nature - some things never changed.

"If you're sure it's okay."

He stepped into the cabin. The refined exterior hadn't prepared him for the inside.

Every room was perfectly arranged, almost luxurious, with delicate furniture and fresh coffee waiting. This wasn't some thrown-together shelter; it was a carefully crafted woodland boudoir.

"A witch must live elegantly," she said, lifting a coffee cup. "And elegance starts with after-dinner coffee."

She handed him several cotton quilts. "Let me know if you need anything else before I fall asleep."

"Thank you."

"No need to be formal. You made me that wonderful food - even if it only filled me up 30%."

Same old Artoria - a bottomless pit for food.