Beta read by Paragon of Awesomeness and Shigiya.
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-The Capital, Imperial Palace-
(Early in the morning)
"The Beasts are dead?"
This was the first piece of news Honest heard upon waking early in the morning. The old man had been expecting a day of peace, one where he could indulge in his favourite meals with nothing but silence for company after getting the usual formalities out of the way. But that simple plan crumbled the moment his spies entered with the daily report, delivering news that caught him completely off guard.
"Did… did he kill them?" he asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear it from his subordinate's mouth, fingers gripping a thick slice of roasted meat that he had yet to bite into.
"From what we gathered, former General Liver was taken out by our target at the conclusion of a direct one-to-one confrontation. His comrade Daidara is believed to have fallen while fighting an unidentified member of Night Raid who wields the Teigu Lionel, alongside the former Prime Minister's daughter, Spear." The informant, hidden in the shadows, wearing thick layers of dark clothing such that neither their face nor gender could be discerned, continued to give out the details while stepping forward and placing several documents on the prime minister's desk. Honest gave the papers only a cursory glance before turning his eyes toward the grand view of the Capital, which stretched far beyond the windows of his quarters.
"A failure to the end," he said, voice low with disdain evident in his words. "So confident, that man. He swore up and down that he'd take care of that boy. Yet in the end, all he was capable of was dying like a pathetic pig. Makes you wonder whether he ever deserved the title of 'Beast' or if the old general just lost his edge with age and his blind devotion to Esdeath."
The shadowed informant gave no response. Their role was not to offer opinions. Any misstep, even a careless remark, could end their life.
"What about the bodies?" Honest asked, reclining back slightly.
"They were retrieved by one of the Jaegers' units."
"Someone from the old Jaegers or Wild Hunt? Which is it? Do not make me guess."
"We suspect it was someone from the now disbanded Wild Hunt. Dorothea seems the most likely candidate."
"I see," Honest muttered, grabbing a whole turkey leg and tearing into it with a loud bite. He was hardly troubled by the loss. True, it meant the enemy had likely seized another pair of Imperial Arms, but those could be taken back eventually. A minor setback at worst. The Empire still had many trump cards tucked away, and new talents that can be easily manipulated pop up in abundance by the year.
'Then again, he was not supposed to survive this long to begin with. But even then, it just ends up working in my favor in the long run.'
As he continued to gorge himself, a faint tremor beneath his feet drew his attention. Honest paused mid-chew while eating a whole roasted ham, raising an eyebrow. His gaze shifted toward the courtyard, where he saw several of his personal soldiers frantically running below. They moved in a disorderly fashion, a clear sense of panic spreading among them. From his view behind the window, he watched them scramble to reach the building. But before the last of them could enter, they froze in place, as if struck by some invisible force.
"What is going on out there?"
His words were followed almost instantly by the sound of rapid footsteps. Turning on his heel, he saw an armoured soldier rushing toward him. Blood was splashed across the man's face, and terror evident in his expression.
"Prime Minister!"
"What is going on out there?" Honest demanded again, this time with a slightly irritated tone in his voice, his eyes dark with suspicion. An assassination attempt? Night Raid? The North finally make a surprise attack on the Capital? The unease began to coil inside his chest like a tightened noose.
Those people were getting too comfortable lately.
"Prime Minister, you should leave as soon as possible. We do not know what happened to her, but she stormed into the building unprovoked and attacked anyone who tried to stop, urgh!"
The soldier's words halted in an instant. Blood bubbled up from his mouth as he staggered, eyes widening in disbelief. Slowly, his gaze dropped to the massive icicle skewering his chest, its jagged surface glistening red with his own blood. He tried to speak, but no sound came out beyond the wet, rattling coughs spilling more crimson down his chin. Desperation flickered in his eyes as he looked at Honest, silently pleading for help.
But the old man didn't move. His attention was already elsewhere, fixed on the figure advancing through the corridor like a vision born of a nightmare. Footsteps clicked rhythmically across the marble floor, precise and unhurried. Honest squinted toward the end of the hallway.
"What seems to be the problem, General?" he asked evenly, managing to stay composed, but there was a taut edge beneath the words that betrayed the tension tightening in his throat. It did not take an expert to figure out why she had barged in here like this.
She walked with grace and the menace of a reaper. The blue-haired woman strode forward in a slow, deliberate pace, blood splattered across her face, down her pristine uniform, and soaking the heels of one of her boots and leaving tracks on the polished floors. In one hand, she held her rapier, its narrow blade still slick with fresh gore. On the other hand, she dragged a man by his hair, who thrashed against her grip in vain.
"Ugh! L-Let me go! B-bitch, you'll be hanged for this! D-Don't you know who I am!?"
His protests came out in uneven gasps, angry shouting, pitiful whining, and the occasional desperate insult spat between labored breaths. None of it slowed her.
Honest's lip curled in annoyance as recognition sank in. 'What is that idiot doing here?'
The man looked familiar, though Honest hadn't laid eyes on him since his last birthday banquet. The resemblance between them was faint but noticeable, deep brown hair streaked with a few strands of blue, the only trait linking them aside from distant blood.
Iokal.
A pathetic excuse for a member of the nobility who coasted through life clinging to Honest's name and the faint blood relationship they shared, showing no aptitude for anything beyond indulgence and vanity. No cunning. No foresight. No value. Honest had once gifted him land and enough coin to live comfortably, just to be rid of his idiocy since the man's death as a distant family member would have been somewhat detrimental to his reputation at the time.
"And now this," Honest muttered under his breath, barely masking the sour bile settling in his stomach. 'Last I remember, I provided him enough to keep him well-entertained and out of my sight for the remainder of both our natural lifespans. How in the Emperor's name did he get tangled up with Esdeath of all people?'
He didn't need to be told something had gone terribly wrong. Esdeath's presence alone, combined with her dragging Iokal like a bag of garbage while covered in the blood of a good portion of his personal guard, spelled out the message very clearly.
"Honest," Esdeath said. Her voice was flat and cold, barely there, trailing off like she cared more about the color of the curtains. "You've put on even more weight these last few days."
She didn't hurry. The bodies, blood, none of it seemed to touch her, even as sticky drips slid off the blade in her hand. Corpses littered her wake. She barely spared a glance at the dead soldier as she stepped over him, her eyes cold and impossible to read, like nothing here really mattered and she had all the time in the world.
"Hohohoho, you think so? I must confess I've noticed it myself, actually. Stress, you see. The burdens of leadership weigh heavily when you're trying to keep the Emperor undisturbed by such matters. Everything's been a bit… chaotic," Honest said, spreading his hands with a theatrical sigh, the joviality in his voice masking the knot forming in his gut. "But I've heard of your little excursion to the late General Nagumo's old estate. A smashing success, I hear. One of those damnable Night Raid assassins, dead. Now that is no small feat since it's been quite some time since anyone has been able to take one of them down. Truly a service to the Empire worthy of someone of your calibre, General."
He tried to sound genuine, even respectful, but the pressure in the room remained frigid. Though her expression hadn't changed, he could feel the air turning even colder with each passing second, the chill sneaking up his spine with every breath.
Then, slowly, she smiled, but it was a smile that could precede the snap of a predator's jaws.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something. His spy, the one who'd delivered the earlier report, was now encased in a block of crystal-clear ice, fear being the last expression he had. No sound. No motion. Just frozen mid-step like a life-like statue. Honest hadn't even seen it happen. His mind had tunneled in on her the moment she arrived.
He swallowed a mouthful of cold saliva and began rubbing the golden ring on his finger with slow, unconscious circles.
"Indeed," Esdeath replied with a quiet lilt, her grip unyielding on both her weapon and the pathetic man she still dragged beside her like a sack of grain. "I was rather impressed by Night Raid's overall prowess. Not bad for a ragtag group trained by a woman with such flawed beliefs. Najenda may lack proper loyalty and vision, but I'll give her this: she knows how to turn out capable killers."
The moment Esdeath stopped speaking, the man in her grip shrieked in agony.
"Uncle! Uncle! Please! This crazy bitch struck me across the face and started slaughtering everyone in sight! I was just coming to see you and she-she's gone mad! She's betrayed the Empire! She struck first! Kill her! Cut her down now!" He thrashed, trying to shake loose, tears spilling from his eyes and snot leaking from his nose as the pain from being hauled by the scalp became too much to bear. Yet neither Honest nor Esdeath so much as acknowledged him. Their eyes didn't even flicker toward him. It was as though he wasn't there at all.
Uncle? Now, of all times? It's the last thing he wanted to hear.
Honest's jaw clenched. He should have arranged for an accident when the boy was smaller. Shouldn't have let him grow up. Sentiment. Weakness. Stupid.
"A shame, truly," Honest said at last, his voice calm again. "That we lost a woman like Najenda to the seduction of the Revolutionary Army's lies. But let's set that aside for now. What brings you here so suddenly, General? I assume my men may have caused you some discomfort upon your arrival. A regrettable error. One, I will correct immediately, if you so wish."
"What? What are you saying? How can you listen to her!?" Iokal bellowed again, voice cracking with panic, his face red and swollen from the prolonged agony. "We're family! You can't just let her get away with this!"
"I would advise you to stop with the pointless pleasantries, Honest," Esdeath said sharply, her smile vanishing like the last light before a storm. Her voice was now flat, colder than the block of ice next to him, and completely devoid of patience. "I am not in a very good mood, and you do not want to make it worse."
Her eyes drilled into him, emotionless.
"You know exactly why I'm here."
So it was that issue after all. Honest stiffened, the gravity of her words dragging at his composure. He had to act fast to shape the narrative before she did.
"Esdeath, the attack on Chouri was something we agreed on long ago. Surely you remember? I merely passed along updated coordinates to the Beasts. That's all. I had no knowledge, none, that Emiya was anywhere near the area at the time."
"I beg you!" Iokal screeched again, louder now, veins bulging in his forehead. "We're blood! Don't turn your back on me, Uncle! Please!"
But whatever patience Esdeath had for him vanished in that instant. Her hand twitched. That was all. The next moment, Iokal's body collapsed to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut, while his severed head remained clutched in her fingers. His face still moved, twitching faintly as if trying to form words, eyes wide with horror but unaware of his death.
Then it stopped.
She tossed the head forward like a discarded melon. It rolled across the floor, trailing a thin smear of red, and came to rest at Honest's feet.
The eyes stared up at him, glassy and empty, yet somehow still clinging to the echo of that last, desperate plea.
"I'll acknowledge that your spies are quite capable. And they've been at least moderately useful in tracking his whereabouts these past two years. Which is why I know full well they never would've neglected something as crucial as identifying the people accompanying your predecessor," she said coldly. "You knew he would be there when you sent my Beasts after Chouri. Yet you chose not to inform me."
Honest's appetite, already waning under her withering presence, now abandoned him entirely. The cloying stench that had settled over the chamber didn't help. Death, blood, shit, and something acrid he couldn't quite place. Ah… he realized that he had pissed in his trousers. His face was drenched in sweat as he scrambled for a napkin, his pudgy hand trembling as he dabbed at his brow.
"It… it was L-Liver's decision," he admitted at once, voice cracking. There was no use in hiding behind half-truths now. "I've never broken our agreement, never! If you recall, one of the terms was that I give my full support to the Beasts. And that's exactly what I did. Liver was loyal; he only wanted to protect you and see your ambitions fulfilled. I trusted him to act in your interest, "
A blur. That was all he registered before an explosion of pain erupted in his gut.
The blue-haired woman's heel had driven into his abdomen with such force that his world turned black for a heartbeat. His entire body lifted off the ground, thrown like a sack of meat across the room. Silverware and porcelain shattered beneath him as he crashed through the long table, destroying the lavish spread of food, wine, and decorative crystal in one fell swoop. He slid across the polished floor and fell with a heavy thud behind a toppled chair, the wind knocked entirely from his lungs.
Esdeath's voice cut through his confusion, her tone cold and crisp.
"Liver was my subordinate," she said, approaching slowly, the sound of her boots sharp against the marble. "Your so-called support does not give you the right to keep secrets on his behalf. Especially not ones of this magnitude, on this subject. And don't you dare insult me by pretending you thought I already knew. I do not tolerate incompetence, and I certainly do not tolerate manipulation."
"Esdeath, wait!" Honest wheezed, struggling to lift his bulk off the floor. He leaned against a broken chair, one hand clutching his side, the other raised in placation. "I did it for your sake! For the Empire! If you and that man were to clash again, it would mean disaster! We were fortunate that your last encounter ended with you both being warped away by my son's Teigu. But I couldn't risk that happening again, we can't afford such a loss!"
"That is not your decision to make," she snapped. "Because of you, I've now lost my two remaining Beasts. Losing Nyau was my mistake, one I will carry with me. But Liver and Daidara… their deaths are on your head. And a price must be paid."
She advanced again, her rapier now gripped with intent, the elegant blade catching the light with a ghostly shimmer. Honest's breath hitched. He scrambled backward until his back hit the wall. Desperately, he raised his hand and pointed the golden ring directly at her, sweat pooling at the base of his neck.
"You w-wouldn't… think about this carefully!" These words were reinforced with the old man showing the ring on his finger.
"Do you honestly believe that pathetic trinket frightens me?" Esdeath sneered, her voice like the crack of ice. "Go on. Use it. I dare you. But know this, if you do, the price won't be that crystal embedded in your ring. Nothing will stop me from finishing the job with my own hands."
She took another step forward.
"It will be your life."
"P-please," he gasped, his voice high with panic. "I'm begging you, calm down! I am deeply sorry you lost those two, truly, but you can't put this all on me! They made their own choices, acted of their own will! I didn't force them to keep anything from you, I didn't even know they'd chosen not to tell you, this was Liver's decision! This is all on him! Aaagh!"
He shrieked in pain.
The sound of steel slicing air rang out a breath before his body could react. Her rapier had moved like lightning, and for a moment, he forgot to breathe. Everything stopped, his voice, his thoughts, until his eyes registered the two small objects clinking softly against the marble floor.
His left pinky and ring finger, severed cleanly at the knuckle.
The ornate ring was still wrapped around one of them, blood pooling beneath it like melted rubies.
He stared at the bleeding stumps in horror, lips quivering. And then he looked up, into Esdeath's eyes, and saw no anger. No satisfaction — just something that.
"Hhhhnnnnnnnnn!" Honest bit down on his lip, causing it to bleed, to smother the scream of pain, clutching his hand with every ounce of strength he could muster to keep the blood from leaking out of his new stumps where his finger use to be, trying desperately not to pass out from the sheer agony that burned through his nerves. The pain was relentless, as if his entire hand had been plunged straight into molten lava.
"Hah… unfortunately, it's just as much my fault as it is yours," the woman said with a sigh that carried no real sympathy. "I should have anticipated his behavior. He's been particularly persistent in chasing after Emiya, and I should have tightened the leash around him sooner. Still, there's no point in regret. Let this be a lesson for the next batch of Beasts."
With those words, she slid her rapier back into its sheath, turning her back on Honest as though he were beneath further attention. Her heels clicked sharply on the stone floor as she approached the exit.
"Clean up this place. It's a pigsty. Also, I'll be keeping the recently acquired Teigu to use as I see fit."
Despite being the Prime Minister, a man whose power now rivaled that of the Emperor himself, Honest could do nothing but bite his tongue and swallow the storm of fury surging inside him. Ordering Esdeath's execution? He had a better chance of defeating the Revolutionary Army on his own than challenging that woman and coming out alive, even with the whole of the Empire's military at his beck and call.
But that didn't mean he was completely without options. There were still certain measures he had kept hidden, contingency plans best left untouched until the moment he was truly cornered… With the Emperor by his side, there was always a way out. For now, he could do nothing but stare at the carnage. His once-prized subordinates lay dead or frozen into grotesque sculptures of ice.
He cursed under his breath. He knelt stiffly, picked up the two severed fingers from the blood-slick floor, and shoved them into his coat pocket like a man forced to carry his own humiliation. Then he dropped himself onto the nearest bench with a wheezing breath.
"Both of them should have died that day."
{Break}
-Night Raid Base-
A tangle of emotions choked the air within Najenda's private quarters. There was blame, some directed inward, some cast at others, and the bitter taste of anger. Not only toward Esdeath, but also at those standing right in front of him.
And finally, disappointment.
But no words came to him. He couldn't bring himself to scold them, to demand justification for their actions. Deep down, he already knew the answer, and speaking it aloud wouldn't change a thing. There was only one sentence he could say when he saw Najenda.
"I'm glad that you're alive."
Seeing her fist tighten, the pen in her hand cracking in half from the pressure, Emiya figured out what was going through her mind at the moment.
"I wasn't there. Even though I should have been."
"It was my call that you weren't," Najenda reminded him.
"Does Bulat regret his decision?" The memory of Leone's words returned to him at that moment. These weren't children. He had no right to force his decisions or values upon them, not even if it might have prolonged their lives.
"What do you think?" she asked quietly.
"If I had to guess, he probably scolded you for blaming yourself."
She scoffed with slight amusement, "For someone you've only interacted with a handful of times, you've got a good sense of the kind of man he is."
He had wrestled with many thoughts during the long walk back after hearing of Night Raid's clash with Esdeath; scenarios, fears, and doubts. The information both he and Leone had received painted a grim picture of what might have transpired. Part of him had dreaded the possibility that someone from Night Raid had fallen at death's door.
"Did he not come back with you?" he asked, brow furrowed, having noted the man's lacking presence around the base.
"I gave him some time at Headquarters," Najenda replied, her voice softer now as she rubbed her temples. "He's training with his new Teigu; it requires some… preparations to put it simply — not something that can just be picked up and used immediately. He is also taking a bit of time to rest. He should be back here in a couple of days."
Emiya nodded slowly, shifting to lean against the wall as his gaze drifted out the nearby window. Through the glass, the grounds outside the base came into view. Two figures, heavily bandaged, one of them hobbling with crutches, were making their way as quickly as they could toward Tatsumi, who wore a grin as wide as the horizon with tears of happiness streaming down his face. The reunion ended in a tight embrace, and one of the figures — the girl—broke down into tears.
"They insisted on coming back with me," Najenda said, answering the unspoken question in his eyes. "They're mostly stable now, able to walk short distances. But wounds like those… they still take time and rehabilitation to make any kind of recovery from. Those amputations on the boy in particular will require lots of adjustment, even with the best prosthetics money can buy. Honestly, it's a miracle they survived at all."
She would have been glad to hear this news. The old woman who had risked her life to help him, now locked somewhere deep within the Capital… whether she still breathed or not was a question he had no answer to.
"I'm sorry we were not able to save the doctor."
"Don't be. It was a trap regardless."
There was nothing for him to be sorry about, saving that woman from Esdeath was a foregone conclusion even if he were to go there. The latter would have set up something to not let him have the last laugh, regardless.
"And you're not thinking of going there all by yourself again to save her?" she asked quietly.
The room fell into a hush for a few seconds. He exhaled slowly, the air heavy in his chest, and whispered, "You cannot save everyone."
"…"
Deciding to change the subject, he exhaled deeply and broke his gaze from the little reunion going on outside. "So, what now?"
"Nothing much yet. We haven't received any new contracts. It's a good moment for us to catch our breath and gather our bearings. Akame just returned from a short assassination mission. A corrupt village chief was lining his pockets by working with Honest, establishing a secret slave route. He'd been imprisoning nomadic drifters and quietly shipping them off to the Capital like cattle. Sheele's been spending most of her time at the library, same as always, and Mine… she's not exactly in the best of moods. Lubbock, thankfully, has continued his efforts to better secure the perimeter and has expanded his threads to cover a wider area. He'll know the second anything or anyone gets close."
Truly, that Teigu of his remained very useful in a wide variety of scenarios.
"A moment of peace then, even if the last one we had barely lasted a few hours. Feels like that happened a long time ago," he murmured, leaning back. "You should rest too. There's no point in wallowing in regret all day."
To Najenda's visible surprise, a hand came down gently and rested on her head.
"Just because you're the leader doesn't mean you should be constantly working and bearing all of the responsibilities in the world. Get some sleep. I'll make your favourite today for dinner."
She blinked, caught off guard by his tone. "Exactly who's the older sibling here?"
"There's no rule that says the younger sibling can't take care of the older one, especially when the latter is clearly on the verge of doing something idiotic," he replied flatly, giving her a pointed look that made her scowl.
"I wasn't planning on doing anything."
"Good. Let's keep it that way. Sometimes doing nothing is exactly what a person needs."
He gave a casual wave as he turned and left the room. Najenda watched his back disappear beyond the door, then turned her gaze toward the clock on the wall. A long pause passed before she wandered over to the mirror. Her reflection stared back at her: pale skin, dark circles framing weary eyes, a worn face marked by responsibility and sleepless nights. She let out a long, tired sigh.
. . .
The first person he ran into after leaving the room happened to be Akame. The black-haired assassin stood quietly near the window, her eyes fixed on Tatsumi, Iyeasu, and Sayo speaking animatedly amongst themselves nearby. Her face was unreadable, expression blank as always. As he approached, she turned and acknowledged him with a brief nod.
"Not going out hunting today, I see." Emiya broke the silence between them first.
"I'm… I'm not that hungry."
He blinked. That was unexpected. He hadn't known her for long, but even in his short time among Night Raid, it was clear as daylight that Akame had an appetite that bordered on pure comedy. She had once tried to swipe an entire roasted Danger Beast over the fire, not that long ago, and it had taken him drawing his blade to keep her back.
For her to say she wasn't hungry? That was alarming.
"I heard from Leone that your mission went well," offered Akame.
"Depends on how you look at it," he shrugged. "Fighting two of Esdeath's top subordinates wasn't something we were prepared for. It was meant to be a simple escort job. But since the former prime minister and his daughter made it to their destination alive, then yes, I suppose it was a successful mission."
She nodded, then continued to speak. "Does this mean that all of the Beasts have been killed by your hand?"
He gave her words some thought, letting the silence stretch between them as his mind traced back over the recent string of battles. "Leone and Spear were there as well, I was handling Liver, and they Daidara — so I can't exactly take full credit. But what even prompted the question? Is something bothering you?"
Her silence served as an answer itself.
"Now that she's lost all of them, does that mean Esdeath will be arranging for new members to replace them?"
"Most likely," he answered confidently, knowing Esdeath's overall personality all too well. "She's already been down one Beast for a good while, and spy reports state that the original purpose of the Jaegers was to find a worthy replacement. Not hard to imagine that offer now extending to all three positions."
That woman, she would never allow something like this to sit unresolved for long — she hated leaving loose ends. In a way, always thinking ahead, always preparing her next move, even if no danger had come to threaten her life. As he spoke, the pieces finally fell into place in his mind, and he began to understand why Akame had been acting so oddly upon remembering the Jaegers.
"You're worried that your sister will be chosen, aren't you? That one day I'll end up facing her in battle and may have to kill her as well?"
Akame tensed. It wasn't overt, but the subtle tightening of her posture and the brief widening of her eyes betrayed what her lips hadn't spoken. She looked at him then, her crimson eyes meeting his grey ones with a flicker of uncertainty.
"How much do you know about us?"
"Enough."
The story of two sisters and several other children sold to the Empire and then trained to become the perfect killing machines. With one of them defecting for reasons he was not exactly aware of, but figured the Revolutionary Army was not stupid enough to neglect doing the proper research on their recruits.
"That's pretty vague," she said with a slight frown.
He only shrugged in response.
"I have my ways of gathering information. But I also think you might be overthinking things. If you don't want me to kill her, then I won't." That caught her off guard. She hadn't expected an answer like that. But he wasn't finished. "I think you have a bit of a misconception about me. I don't kill every opponent just because they stand in my way. It's just that lately, that outcome seems to repeat itself more than I'd like. It doesn't mean they deserve to die simply because they serve the Empire. Not everyone in their ranks is evil. Some genuinely believe they're helping people. Some try to change the Empire from the inside. Others are just trying to survive, doing the jobs given to them. If I had the choice, killing would never be my first option."
He paused for a moment, studying her carefully.
"And I doubt your sister is truly that loyal to the Empire."
At that, Akame shook her head. She looked more relieved than anything else, a quiet breath leaving her lips as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
"She wants to kill me."
"You do have a strange sibling dynamic," he muttered, just low enough. Still, from what he'd seen, this wasn't even close to the most twisted. Mages where he came from liked to settle their family affairs with poison or blades to the ribs. Assassinations were more common than breakfast.
He pushed down the memory that came unbidden, a girl with violet eyes, smiling even though her soul had been smashed to pieces and nothing inside her was truly whole as she hid a deep seeded pain.
"Leone said something similar about the relationship between you and General Esdeath."
Well… he could not argue against that.
"Fair enough."
The girl hesitated then, her body shifting with uncertainty. Another topic she was hesitating to bring up? But upon hearing the next few words, Emiya realized he was just overthinking things.
"By the way… I heard you're going to make Najenda's favourite dish. What would that be?"
He should have known.
"So you are hungry after all, huh? What was that earlier about not having an appetite?"
She avoided his gaze, her eyes darting to the trees as if hoping the wind would distract from her embarrassment.
"I'm just asking out of curiosity."
"You'll see," he said, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips as he turned and began walking away. She followed close behind.
.
.
.
He was, without question, someone she couldn't quite get a full read on. Not that Akame claimed to have the same insight into people as Leone or their leader, but she was no fool either. She could spot details others might miss. Subtle things. Hints. Tells. But when it came to the man she had just spoken with, it was hard to say.
Yes, he was their ally. Their comrade. That much was clear. But the true source of his drive, the reason he had come this far to support them, remained a mystery. At first, she'd accepted the simplest explanation, that he was Najenda's younger brother and shared her disapproval of the Empire's tyranny. That alone was reason enough for him to fight.
But after hearing about his connection to the one who perhaps posed the biggest threat to their cause, their past history, and even details about their latest encounters—she started to doubt some things.
'Do you see her as an enemy… or do you still see her as a friend?'
The question echoed in her mind as she made her way through the forest, the sound of her boots brushing against the leaves. The answer didn't matter. Not really. Her own goals would not change, regardless of his. At the end of the day, her sister remained her priority above all else.
"Arch—um, Emiya?"
"Hm?" The white-haired man halted mid-step and glanced back at her, curiosity flickering faintly in his gaze. If she wanted to get near Kurome and finally be done with matters of the past without needing to have him deal with everything on his own, she had only one solution in mind.
"If you're assigned another mission… may I accompany you this time?" she asked, this being the best solution she could think of to her inner dilemma.
"That's an unusual request," he replied without skipping a beat.
The only time they had traveled together was alongside Najenda, Leone, and Tatsumi on their return to the Capital. Now that she thought about it, they had never been on a mission with just the two of them, or really fought together. A pause hung in the air before he added,
"Still worried about our last conversation?"
"Partly," she admitted, lowering her eyes for a moment. "You seem to have a kind of… tendency to draw out Esdeath and anyone who serves her. If I'm to fulfill my purpose, then staying near you would be the most efficient means of doing so."
Her answer drew a quiet, amused chuckle from him. At first, she blinked in confusion, uncertain what she had said that warranted that kind of reaction. He didn't make her wait long.
"You make it sound like I'm a curse, just dragging trouble around behind me."
"Ah—" She suddenly realized how it must have come across. Her choice of words may have been far more blunt than she intended.
"There's no need to explain," he said with a small shake of his head. "I get what you meant. And worst of all, I can't even deny it. My luck truly is abysmal."
"Then do you agree?" she asked quickly, the eagerness slipping through her otherwise calm voice.
He hummed, tapping his chin in mock contemplation. "That depends. I've got a rough idea of what most people here can handle. But you need to understand something. If I go anywhere near the Capital, there's a strong chance Esdeath herself will be close, like you've mentioned, and come for my head. I can deal with her. But I'm not so sure about you. I won't bring anyone along who'll just end up dead or damn close to it — you know what happened to Bulat."
"I understand," she said plainly, lifting her still-sheathed katana and holding it horizontally in front of her like a quiet oath. "Then let me show you what I'm capable of."
He gave a casual shrug. "Fine by me. But if you lose and I tell you to stay behind, you'll do it. No complaints, no hesitation. Understood?"
"Understood," she said with a quick nod, her movements as swift and sharp as a hen pecking at grains. "I don't plan on losing. So, when do we start?"
Her eagerness, barely restrained before, now surged forward too quickly. In response, he reached out and gently tapped a finger against her forehead, pushing her back a step.
"Easy there. As much as I'd like to settle this now, I've got a promise to keep in about an hour, and I still need to make some preparations for it. Someone's been getting a bit bold lately, and I said I'd deal with it. And of course, there's still supper after that, which I doubt you want to delay."
"Eh?" That caught her off guard, enough to throw her thoughts into disarray. She tried to imagine who he could be referring to, but not a single face came to mind. "I don't think I know who or what you're talking about."
Before he could answer, a sharp sound cut through the air. Both of them froze as a high-pitched whistle grew louder. Their heads turned just in time to watch an arrow split the air and strike a nearby tree trunk dead-center. It embedded itself cleanly, splitting another old arrow in half with surgical precision.
"Oh ho… she's gotten better," he muttered with the faintest hint of a smile.
The black-haired assassin caught his comment and spotted the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. With only one person in their entire group wielding a bow and arrow — excluding him, of course — she instantly knew who was responsible for that and why.
"Did you see that?" Mine's voice rang out from across the field, unmistakably triumphant. The pink-haired girl stood tall with her chest puffed out in pride, flashing a smug grin in Archer's direction. "Looks like you might not be the best archer around anymore."
"Someone's gotten confident," he replied as he began walking toward her, casually tracing the edge of his own bow with a plain, unassuming arrow. The sight of the weapon made Mine's expression twist into one of mild revulsion with the slightest hint of envy, a scowl creeping onto her face. He noticed immediately.
"Does it not please you? When I made it, aesthetics weren't exactly high on my list."
"I'm still stunned you even call that thing a bow," she shot back, her tone laced with disgust. "You can't even pull it without risking having your fingers sliced or pulling like ten different muscles."
"You want to give it a try again?"
"No, I prefer keeping my graceful fingers unmangled, thank you very much."
Akame, who had been quietly listening to the exchange from behind, let their banter fade into background noise as her mind drifted back to the conversation from earlier. Yet just as she was losing herself in thought, something soft brushed against her foot. She looked down.
"Meow?"
A black cat blinked up at her, its coat impossibly soft and sleek like velvet, its eyes dark and glistening like polished obsidian. It moved near her leg, its fur so fluffy she felt an overwhelming temptation to touch it. She gave in without a second thought.
"Meow," it murmured again, stepping forward and rubbing its face against her shin, purring as her fingers found the top of its head.
Woosh.
The sound of arrows slicing through the air reached her ears, snapping her out of the moment. She scooped the cat into her arms and turned her attention back to the field, watching the two figures ahead of her. At some point, Mine and Emiya had evidently started another competition, with Mine trying to reclaim her title as the best archer in Night Raid.
The pink-haired assassin let loose her eleventh arrow, and it embedded itself deep into the same point of a distant tree. The hole had been carved halfway through the trunk, forming a narrow tunnel of splintered wood.
Emiya matched her with ease, releasing another arrow. He observed and evaluated her next shot with ease. "Your form is perfected. At this point, it's not about technique anymore. The only question is how long you can maintain that state without slipping up even a little."
"Shut up!" Mine snapped, glaring at him over her shoulder. "I could keep this up a hundred more times if I felt like it!"
As if the world had taken offense to her boast, her next arrow veered just enough to miss its mark slightly, striking the intended tree off-center. Her mouth dropped open in disbelief.
"This is your fault! If you had just stayed quiet, I would've stayed focused and nailed that shot!"
"Not like you get the luxury of silence during real battles," he said smoothly. "If that's how you see things, I hope your enemies are polite enough not to taunt you while you're aiming."
While the two continued bickering, Akame turned her attention back to the cat in her arms. Its presence here was strange. Their base was nestled deep within a forest crawling with Danger Beasts, the sort that even seasoned hunters avoided unless they had a full squad with them. A lone domestic animal wandering into this place should have been unthinkable.
Yet she reasoned that not all creatures were blindly attacked. Some predators likely ignored animals too small or swift to waste energy on. Still, the cat's appearance here was an oddity.
She lifted it gently and held it up so they were face to face. The cat tilted its head to the side, gazing at her as though it didn't understand why it was being inspected so closely.
"Meow?"
A strange thought passed through her mind, as fleeting as it was unexpected. Without thinking, she voiced it aloud.
"I wonder what you taste like."
Unfortunately, she was a second too late to realise her blunder. The creature within her grasp let out a sharp hiss, wriggling free with feline agility before darting away into the underbrush. Akame stood frozen for a moment, her arm half-raised and a guilty expression creeping across her face.
"Ah, sorry," she muttered, clearly regretful.
All she received in return was a sideways glance, cool and dismissive, accompanied by another displeased hiss from the cat as it slinked into the undergrowth, only to be intercepted once again. This time, the victor of the contest and reigning best archer in Night Raid caught the creature by the scruff of its neck. He stared at it silently for several seconds, suspicion flickering in his eyes. The cat, unfazed, gave a soft meow, almost as if trying to win sympathy.
After a moment, he released it.
"Word of advice," he said with a dry note of amusement, glancing back at Akame, "while I've never tried it myself nor ever intend to, I don't believe cats make ideal creatures for consumption."
"Wait, there was a cat!?" Mine's voice rang out from behind, her tone bursting with disbelief. She whipped her head around, scanning the area in a frantic attempt to spot the elusive feline before rushing off to try to find and cuddle it.
Akame, meanwhile, looked even more remorseful. She stood slowly, brushing dirt from her skirt and letting out a soft sigh.
"It's just… looking at that cat reminded me of one of the Danger Beasts I hunted once," she murmured. "A Doshu Panther."
"Ah, I see," Emiya said thoughtfully. "I believe I encountered one in the past as well. Quite the difficult prey. If I recall correctly, it was ranked a B-Class Danger Beast. Not all that dangerous to the likes of us in a direct fight, but hard to track and a natural ambush predator."
"I ended up getting stranded on an island when I ran into it," Akame replied, her voice quieter now as memory took over. "I was supposed to wait for a target, but I grew hungry while waiting. Ended up hunting and cooking it. It was… honestly, one of the tastiest things I've ever eaten. At least until you came along."
Her cooking skills, she knew, were nowhere near the level of the man in front of her now. Yet what she had prepared on that island, under desperate circumstances, still lingered in her memory with vivid clarity. It might not have looked like much, but in terms of taste, it came close to what he had served her here.
If she were to come across another Doshu Panther… Akame would stop at nothing to ensure it ended up in Archer's kitchen.
"Anyway," she said after a pause, changing the topic, "you mentioned being busy with something. Were you referring to that contest with Mine? If so, I think we still have time for at least one good spar before you need to get started on supper."
He gave a slow shake of his head. "Just a small promise I made to Leone."
His eyes lowered as he stroked his chin, lost in thought. Then, a strange gleam appeared in his expression, a mix of scheming and mischief.
"That said, if things go well during that moment, I could end it quickly. Then we'd have time for our match. Though I might need your help with that."
"I'm all ears," she replied without hesitation.
"I'm giving her a massage."
"Eh?" The black-haired girl blinked at him, stunned into silence. Of all the possibilities she had considered, this was nowhere on the list. She simply stood there, staring as though trying to work out whether he was joking or dead serious.
He seemed to take her confusion as a cue to keep explaining. And he did, clearly, unashamedly, and in full detail. The longer he spoke, the more astonished she looked, her face slowly transitioning from confusion to shock and finally to sheer disbelief.
"She's going to kill you," Akame said flatly.
"Well, that's on her," he replied with a shrug. "Hopefully, it'll teach her something. Not like I'm going back on my word. It is a massage, after all. So, what do you say? Will you help me?"
She gave it a few seconds of genuine thought. Then, with a resigned sigh, she nodded.
.
.
.
Having spent her entire life navigating the filth and chaos of the slums and dealing with every sort of lowlife and oddball imaginable, Leone considered herself a fairly good judge of character. She'd sized up more people than she could count, including thieves, drunks, hustlers, and liars. But even with all that experience, she had to admit that she might have seriously underestimated the man standing in front of her.
"Wait, you were actually being serious!?" she shouted, eyes wide with disbelief, her voice echoing all around the hallway. She'd thought he was teasing her back then, just throwing out something ridiculous just to get her off his back for a bit!
Emiya came to find her, holding a small wooden box with both hands. It was filled with delicate vials of oil and a neat row of scented candles, the kind that filled the air with a warm, rich fragrance even from several feet away. The smell was oddly calming, a subtle blend of lavender and something sharper… clove? Maybe.
"I was being serious," he replied, his voice flat and matter-of-fact. "You really thought I was just saying nonsense?"
She stared at the box, eyes wide with surprise, before they rose to meet his gaze again. "Where the hell did you even get these?"
She recognized some of the items, and they were of high quality. Candles like that took time, effort, and rare ingredients to make. She would've noticed if he'd picked them up somewhere while she was with him. No way he bought them from the Capital, not once did she see him go to one of those kinds of shops.
"Oh, I just borrowed them from Najenda," he said, with a casual shrug. "Don't tell her. They're from her secret stash."
Her jaw nearly dropped. The boss had a stash like this? After all their time working together, this was news to her. She always thought Najenda lived by routine, discipline, and very little indulgence. But apparently, she had her secrets. And this man had gone and swiped some of them… Bold move. She had to give him credit for that.
"So," he added, eyeing her blank expression, "are you interested or not? If not, we can just drop this here and forget that conversation ever happened. I do have other things I could be doing today."
He began to turn away, clearly preparing to leave. But before he could take a second step, Leone surged forward, snatching his wrist with one hand while wrapping the other gently around his arm. She spun him back toward her quarters, flashing a sharp grin his way.
"Now hold on, handsome. Let's not be so hasty. I was just caught off guard, that's all," she said smoothly. "You didn't strike me as the kind of guy who'd be into this sort of thing. But I'm glad to see I was wrong."
She led him toward the door and gestured him inside with the flourish of someone both amused and intrigued. "Go on, show me what you've got. As a former expert, I'll be grading you. So don't disappoint me."
It would've been a lie to say she wasn't looking forward to it. The constant pressure of missions, stealth kills, and prying secrets from the scum of the slums, and it took a toll. Physically, mentally, spiritually. She hadn't relaxed properly in months beyond enjoying a few drinks at whatever tavern she deigned to grace with her presence when the opportunity arose. And though she wouldn't admit it aloud, another part of her was very curious to see how his hands would feel on her.
A slow, sly smile spread across her lips as she gave him a playful nudge. "If you meet my standards and perform well as a masseuse, I'll make sure you get a reward you won't forget."
He only hummed in response. A soft, amused sound.
"We'll see about that," he said.
That was it? No sarcastic comeback, no smug flirtation, not even a snort? Just agreement? Too clean. Too smooth. Suspicious.
Her eyes narrowed. Was he playing her? Maybe he'd built all this up just to stop halfway through, leave her frustrated and begging for more. The thought wasn't entirely unpleasant, but she wasn't about to give him the upper hand. No, if he thought he was going to tease her, he'd better be ready to keep up the act until the very end. He had to be nervous, too — just good at hiding it.
They walked together toward one of the lesser-used rooms in the hideout, one of the many unused chambers within the base. But when she pushed the door open, Leone stopped dead in her tracks.
Right there in the middle of the room stood a massage table. A proper one, clean and cushioned. It looked like it had been brought in just for this.
She blinked, dumbfounded, then turned to Archer slowly, suspicion creeping into her voice.
"Where the hell did you get this thing from? Mine's the one who keeps track of the base's inventory, and I know for a fact we don't have something like this lying around, or else she would have told me, if only to bully me into pampering her on it."
"I made it."
"How?"
"Magic."
Once again, his response came dry, almost indifferent, so lacking in energy or effort to convince her that she wasn't quite sure what to make of it. Still, despite how deadpan he always sounded, the buxom woman found herself believing him. His abilities were bizarre to begin with, and she had already seen him do stranger things than make furniture pop up out of nowhere.
'I should start asking him to make better furniture for my room after this,' she thought, tapping her finger against her lip. Luxury had never been a real priority for Night Raid. Practicality was enough. But if this guy could just conjure things like this without any kind of strain, then maybe it wasn't unreasonable to get a few days of royal treatment. Yet, despite the playful thought, her instincts twitched, nagging that something about the whole setup didn't sit quite right.
"What are you doing?"
On the other side of the room, after placing the candles at key points around the space and lighting them one by one with a calm, steady pace, he turned to see the blonde woman crouched beneath the table. Her golden hair hung forward as she squinted up at the underside, going so far as to sniff it and squint suspiciously looking at every inch of the table.
"It's not like a Teigu or Shingu or one of your noble fantasies things, right?"
"It's Noble Phantasm. And no, it is not an Imperial Arm or anything remotely similar. This is a massage table and nothing more. Why on earth would I make such a tool in the shape of a bed?"
Leone paused, considering his words. After a beat, she gave a short nod, deciding she was probably just overthinking it. If there had been anything truly dangerous about it, she figured her instincts would've screamed louder. Regaining her confidence, she rose to her full height, hands on her hips, then let out a deep breath and gave him her usual smirk, though with a hint of danger to it.
"If this whole thing is just your idea of a joke, this is your last chance to say so. Or else, you might cross a point of no return."
"You know, Akame was talking to me earlier about having a good spar together, and in times like this, ensuring that my combat skills are up to par probably should take priority—"
Woosh!
He didn't even finish his sentence before a bundle of clothes and lacy, scandalously daring underwear smacked him right in the face, mid-word. The jolt sent his train of thought into full stop. He yanked the mess of clothes off his head, blinking, stunned and then he just stared, because there was Leone, sprawled out naked on the table, skin so pale and perfect it glowed in the candlelight, a soft blush rising on her cheeks. Her huge tits were pressed against the massage table, making them stand out from the side, while her ass, thick, round, completely bare, was sticking up in the air, jiggling with every little movement.
"So are you getting started or not?" Leone taunted, her voice low, sultry, daring him and then she wiggled her ass, the plump flesh quivering, her smirk only growing sharper as her half-lidded eyes locked onto his face, drinking in his stunned reaction.
She closed her eyes, heart thudding, breaths shallow and tight. And then, a sound, the padding of footsteps drawing closer, closer, closer… Her breath caught, a sharp gasp dragged from her as the first cold drops of oil splashed onto her bare skin.
Instant goosebumps. A tremor shot through her spine, her body arching at the shock of sensation.
But then his hands were there, hot and sure, gliding through the oil in deep, slow sweeps. His fingers dug in between her shoulder blades, strong and relentless, moving lower, lower, tracing every dip and rise of muscle with absolute certainty. A low moan broke from her lips before she knew it, with each stroke she melted a little more.
"Mmmm—that's it…" she whimpered, voice vibrating with pleasure.
God, the way he moved. Every touch calculated, perfect, working her over with a rhythm that never faltered, each squeeze and stroke blurring the line between torment and bliss. His palms worked from the back of her neck, over her sensitive spine, down to her waist, then lower, kneading her buttocks and thighs and calves, marking every spot that made her shudder. Never rushed, never clumsy, just relentless, addictive pressure as if he knew exactly where her nerves burned hottest…!
"Y-You're really good at this," she finely pushed through her lips with a smile, but hid the underlying pleasure coursing through her body.
"Is that so?" he replied, his voice still maddeningly calm as his fingers worked their magic. "Glad to have your approval."
Enjoyable as this was, something about his collected tone rubbed her the wrong way. Was he seriously this unaffected? She was lying there in full view, completely exposed, and he was talking like a monk reciting scripture. Lubbock and Tatsumi, along with countless other guys she'd known, would've killed just to see her like this, much less touch her. Was he blind, gay, or just this unaffected by women?
She didn't think for a second that she lacked appeal. Still, as much as she wanted to poke at his composure, the words she intended to tease him with kept slipping away. His thumbs pressed into her shoulders, releasing tension she hadn't realized was there. He moved to her arms, then down to her hands, and for a moment, it felt like she was resting on a bed made of clouds rather than solid wood.
Despite having woken up not long ago, already rested from the night before, this massage lulled her into a foggy calm. Her core began to warm with an ache that was far from drowsy, and her thoughts wandered, lingering on the faint details of his face as he worked. There was something oddly captivating about his eyes, the lines of his jaw, the total ease in his movements.
"Have you ever massaged someone else?" she managed to ask, her voice hushed now. "From what I'm feeling, it sure does feel like it. You're way too good at this for it to be your first time."
His hands paused on her lower back for the briefest second, then resumed.
"I have. Though it's been a while since the last time."
"With the boss, or that crazy bitch?"
"It started with Najenda wanting a shoulder massage because she'd pulled a muscle while training. Then she kept asking for more, and before long, Esdeath ended up finding out somehow and began to demand massages from me as well while bringing massage oils and incense for me to use for them. Neither of them would let me live in peace if I didn't accept. Nothing new there."
Quite a way to summarise it. She could tell there was more to that story than he was letting on. His voice, as always, gave away little, but the more she listened to the way he spoke of Esdeath, the stranger their dynamic sounded. There was something underlying there. A thread of familiarity. Not quite warmth, but not enmity either.
"What exactly do you feel about Esdeath?" she asked casually. "From the few titbits I keep hearing about the two of you, and how she's relentlessly chasing you down, it doesn't feel like a relationship you'd expect to see between enemies. Did you love her? Were you two a couple?"
"Not really," he replied at once.
His answer came so quickly, she couldn't decide if he was being honest or simply shutting down the conversation. But he kept speaking. "Esdeath and I were many things. Lovers weren't exactly one of them. She wanted a rival more than anything, someone to push her beyond all limits and hone her edge against. Though she wasn't against the idea of finding a romantic partner in the future, her requirements were a bit… unreasonable, to say the least."
Leone had a hard time imagining anyone wanting to become Esdeath's boyfriend without being suicidal or a complete masochist.
"So you two never mingled with one another?" she asked, eyes closing as she relaxed atop the massage table once more.
"…Not in the way you're thinking."
That pause caught her attention. It was brief, but deliberate. Her ears pricked up as though she were listening to a particularly juicy bit of drama in those stage performances she used to watch. And yet, oddly enough, a tiny part of her felt slightly frustrated by the lack of info as it became clear there was indeed something between them but Najenda's brother was being annoyingly evasive about it.
"Esdeath is a complicated person," he added, voice turning softer, and almost wistful. "Even I can't make sense of her thoughts most of the time. Nor what she really wants."
"That wasn't a no," she said slyly, smirking now.
Despite everything, the idea still amused her. "And despite being a crazy bitch, she's undeniably beautiful. I can't blame you if you slept with her. Who could say no to someone who looks like that?"
"I didn't sleep with her."
He spoke more firmly this time, his hands tightening slightly at her hips as he said the words, making her squeal with surprise at the sudden grip.
"You're asking a lot of personal questions," he added, tone dropping low again. "I just said it was complicated."
"So I guess this is further confirmation that you're a virgin," she stated, her grin going sharp and wicked. When her words couldn't rattle him, she knew she'd have to up the ante. With a dramatic flick of her hair, she spun around on the bed, putting her whole body on display for him. Her shoulders rolled back, her golden hair cascading down her back like a golden waterfall and the way his eyes widened for a fraction, even for a split second, ohhhh that was all she needed to keep pushing him further. Victory.
"I can't say much about Esdeath," she purred, "but she's got one hell of a body despite that rotten personality. That said, I can ABSOLUTELY hold a candle to her."
She grabbed his hand, bold as ever, and pulled it up to her large bountiful tits. The heat of the contact jolted through her, straight to her core, but the look in his eyes? Still unreadable, still making her want to push EVEN FURTHER.
"Want to give it a try?"
At this point, she was certain there was no way he could keep up that calm, focused expression. Even someone like her was starting to feel the burn of her own daring, cheeks warming, stomach knotting, thighs clenching. Still, she held her ground. If she backed off now, it would mean admitting defeat. And she wasn't about to let that happen.
'Come on. Just start blushing already. Start stammering, do something—!'
Whatever she was about to think next, however, completely flew out the window the moment he moved. Without warning, his arms wrapped around her waist, strong and precise, and in a single smooth motion, he lifted her off the bed with ease. Her legs came up off the sheets, and she let out a small gasp, startled at how quickly the tables had turned.
'Wait, is he seriously going to…'
Her heart skipped a beat. Maybe she'd gone a bit too far. Should've known better than to try and tease someone who'd had years of dealing with Esdeath of all people. This backfired. "A-Ahahaha… w-we… um, slow down there a bit handsome~ I know you're eager, but maybe we can start slow…"
Rather than carrying her to another room or responding to her challenge in kind, the man simply flipped her over and dropped her unceremoniously back onto the massage bed, her body bouncing lightly against the sheets.
"Ah!"
"Alright," he said calmly, settling himself into a ready position beside her again. "Time for the main massage."
"Wait, what?"
Just as she was about to rise and turn over to see what was going on, two shadows emerged from nowhere, latching onto her arms and legs and pinning her in place with a swiftness that made resistance impossible. The blonde was caught completely off guard, but what truly made her breath hitch was the pair of crimson eyes staring directly into her own — unmistakable, familiar, and not at all where they were supposed to be.
"Akame!? What are you doing here!?" she cried out, her confusion mounting with every second that passed.
"Sorry about this. He promised me he'd cook a whole bunch of whatever food I wanted if I agreed to help him with this," Akame replied flatly. Her voice was calm, though there was some regret in her expression. That flicker was enough to make Leone's concern twist deeper in her gut.
"Wait… If you're here, then who's—" Her words froze in her throat as realization dawned. "Sheele!?"
The bespectacled girl perked up at the sound of her name, lifting her hand in a mild greeting. "I was bored and wanted to help," she said simply, as if that explained everything. Then, looking toward Emiya, her brow creased. "So what exactly is going on here?"
Emiya, standing just beside Leone, let out a quiet hum. Her body was entirely vulnerable now, pinned without mercy, her usual strength rendered irrelevant, and her Teigu off to the side with the rest of her clothes. A strange feeling was beginning to creep through her — something akin to helplessness, yet felt oddly exciting, one she wasn't used to and couldn't put into words.
"Didn't I tell you?" he said. "I promised you a massage that would leave you unable to stand the next morning. I intend to keep that promise."
She felt the sensation of a liquid being poured over her and could easily smell the oils, followed by the firm pressure of Emiya pressing both his thumbs against the middle of her back. It was deliberate. Calculated.
"It's clear to me you weren't fully satisfied with my earlier technique. There's still tension buried deep in your muscles. So, the only solution left… is a deep tissue massage."
"Wait, what—?"
She barely managed to form the words before he pushed hard.
"Aaaah~!"
Silence followed.
One second. Two. Three.
But it wasn't a scream of pain that cracked through the room, or a simple groan of discomfort that slipped out. No. What erupted from Leone's lips was something utterly unexpected, hungry, pleasure-soaked moan, raw and shameless, echoing off the walls and making everyone, herself included, freeze in pure, stunned shock.
Leone's eyes flew open, her head jerking up. Across from her, Akame just stood there, paralyzed, her own eyes huge, the usual cool mask on her face shattered—even as her grip stayed ironclad on Leone's forearms. For a long, stretched-out moment, they just stared, locked together in mutual disbelief, hearts pounding in their throats.
Then Leone's gaze narrowed.
"Not. A. Word."
Akame nodded, barely bobbing her head.
"Now lemme just—hnnnngh!"
Another sound escaped her mouth, making the girl bite her lips to hold herself back, this one more ragged than the one before. Her body trembled under the pressure as Emiya's fingers sank into places that felt far too deep to be legal. Pain and pleasure warred across her nerves, neither side victorious, both clashing and blending in an odd sensation that made her jaw clench even as the result left more and more of her body feeling strangely relaxed.
"I'll kill you," she muttered eventually, voice hoarse and lacked any amount of heat. She had no energy left to struggle, and her body felt too at ease to muster up any kind of struggle. Akame and Sheele had finally released her limbs and now stood in front of her, but all she could do was glare at them with every ounce of indignant rage her spirit could summon.
"Sorry," Sheele mumbled, not quite meeting her gaze.
Creak.
The sound of the door opening brought the mood in the room to an abrupt halt. All four of them turned, breath catching in their throats. Panic prickled at the edges of Leone's thoughts — if it was Najenda, she was going to have questions. If it were Tatsumi or Lubbock, either one of them might faint or worse, ask something stupid that would only make this even harder to explain.
But instead, standing in the doorway, they saw a girl with long, soft orange hair and a lollipop resting between her lips. Her pink eyes scanned the scene slowly, clearly registering what she was seeing. The tilt of her head suggested she wasn't entirely sure if she was dreaming or had just stumbled into some surreal nightmare.
"Uhm… we're like, under attack right now," the girl said at last, chewing her candy slowly. "But since you're all obviously… busy, I'll just leave you as you were."
With that, she closed the door without another word.
There was a pause.
"Who was that?" Emiya asked, frowning as he glanced toward the now-closed door.
No one answered.
Then…
"Wait, what was that about an attack?" asked Sheele, the woman tilting her head in confusion.
---------------
The next 5 chapters of Snafu, and my other Fate fics (Fate Coiling Sword with 3 chapters, A Fake Familiar Reborn with 3 chapters, Steel Eyed Faker soon to be 3 chapters, Hound having 3 and To love a sword having 4 chapters) are already available on my P@treon. With 4 more Broly chapters at /NimtheWriter. Also, I post commissioned arts on each story, already posted a few on an Archer's Promise, Broly and Snafu.