"I heard you," Riley said quietly, standing just inside the hallway arch.
Satoshi's heart skipped a beat.
She was hugging Ralts like a stuffed animal, big eyes flicking between him and Ashwatthama. "You said you got married again."
Satoshi glanced at Shirou in panic—who said absolutely nothing, just raised an eyebrow like, Well?
He turned back toward her, crouching down to her level. His voice was gentle, if a little thin. "I… I'm still married to Shirou, sweetie. That hasn't changed."
Riley blinked. "But now you're married to him, too?" She pointed at Ashwatthama, who froze mid-step, visibly restraining a twitch.
Satoshi winced and nodded. "...Yes. That happened. It's… complicated."
Riley tilted her head. "So now we're a bigger family?"
Satoshi hesitated, glancing at Shirou for help. The man simply moved toward the table, taking plates with a kind of grim, practiced acceptance. Leave this to me, his eyes seemed to say.
Satoshi turned back to Riley even if he wanted to yell at Shirou to help him with this instead. He smiled, even if it didn't reach his eyes this time.
"Yeah," he said at last. "We're a big family now."
That seemed to satisfy her. "Okay! I like big families."
Ralts gave a psychic hum of agreement.
As Riley went to set the final spoon in place, Satoshi exhaled like he'd defused a time bomb. He turned toward the table—just in time for Shirou to pass him a bowl wordlessly. Their fingers brushed. It grounded him more than he wanted to admit even if he was a bit angry at him.
Together, they began serving the food.
Ashwatthama sat at the end of the table like he wasn't quite sure he belonged there—massive, silent, cautious. His posture screamed tension. Rigid shoulders. Hands on his knees. Back straight like a soldier on display. Or he was until he took his first spoonful. It was simple—just broth and rice, a hint of curry and seared vegetables—and as soon as it hit his tongue, something shifted.
His eyes widened slightly. His breath caught—not dramatically, just a stillness that rang louder than words. For a moment, the fire in his eyes shone as he looked down at the bowl like it held something sacred. Then he took another bite. Then another. The silence changed—less coiled, less sharp. His posture eased by fractions.
Riley, emboldened, began peppering him with questions. Did he have any powers? Did he like dogs? Could he lift a car?
Ashwatthama answered slowly at first, voice low and carefully measured. But after a few minutes, the edges of his tone softened. Not warmth—but something adjacent. Something willing.
Satoshi relaxed, finally sitting down. He still felt like a bundle of frayed nerves, but when he saw Shirou sit beside him and gently nudge over a glass of water, he smiled—grateful, if tired. Shirou didn't speak. He didn't need to, because, for now, dinner was safe. And the newest member of their "family" hadn't burned down the house. Yet.
.
Riley was halfway through her second helping of rice, swinging her legs cheerfully beneath the table, when she looked up and said, completely unprompted, "It's good that your bed is big, huh? So I can keep coming when I have nightmares."
Satoshi choked softly on his water.
Ashwatthama blinked.
Shirou paused mid-bite.
Riley, oblivious to the freeze around her, kept eating cheerfully while Ralts hummed in agreement from the windowsill.
"Sometimes I dream of the bad place," she continued. "But it's better when I wake up next to someone. I feel safe."
Satoshi reached over and gently patted her head. "Of course, sweetie. You're always welcome."
But he didn't look at Shirou or Ashwatthama, because he didn't need to. They were all thinking the same thing. They needed to talk about the bed and where people would be sleeping.
But not right now.
.
Riley hugged Satoshi tightly before going to bed, already in her soft pajama set with Ralts curled against her. She gave both Shirou and Ashwatthama brief nods of approval before padding to her room, flicking on the small star-shaped nightlight by her bed.
"She's very… adaptable," Ashwatthama muttered, watching the door close gently behind her.
Satoshi chuckled weakly. "You'd be surprised what kids can handle once they feel safe."
A long pause followed. Then Shirou folded his arms and said it plainly: "We're not all sleeping in the same bed."
Satoshi looked at him, flustered. "I wasn't suggesting that!"
Ashwatthama raised an eyebrow. "She just assumed."
"Because she's a child and she thinks we're all married and that means we all sleep together!" Satoshi protested, already turning pink. "Emotionally, not—not...ugh."
Shirou sighed. "Then who sleeps where?"
Another beat. Then, awkwardly:
"…We could rotate?" Satoshi suggested.
Ashwatthama crossed his arms. "I don't share a bed."
Satoshi blinked. "Oh. That actually solves part of it."
"I'll sleep on the floor," Ashwatthama added. "I've done worse."
"You're not sleeping on the floor," Satoshi said immediately, indignant. "There's a guest room. With a bed. That has sheets. And walls. You're a person, not a tool."
Ashwatthama said nothing—but there was the faintest flicker in his expression. He didn't answer. But he didn't argue again either. Then Shirou rubbed at the bridge of his nose as if just realizing something. "Wait, no. We're going to have to sleep together."
Satoshi immediately flushed. "Wha—uh—I—what?!"
"I mean in the same room," Shirou clarified with a flat look. "Same bed. We don't have a choice."
Ashwatthama raised a brow. "I don't share beds."
"You will," Shirou said coolly, "if the social worker shows up and Riley tells them we don't all sleep in one bed even if we're a 'happy family', then..."
Satoshi groaned into his hands. "She would say that."
"She just now assumed we will be sleeping together, we don't need to explain later why we do not do so," Shirou deadpanned. "So unless we want to make our adoption case harder, we need to keep up appearances."
Ashwatthama looked unimpressed. "So this farce includes sleep now?"
"It includes stability," Shirou snapped. "And safety. She's not going to feel safe if her 'new dads' are all suddenly spread across the house."
Satoshi rubbed the back of his neck. "Okay, but—logistics. Bed size. Proximity. Elbows."
"I've slept in tighter spots," Shirou muttered.
"Speak for yourself!"
"I am."
Ashwatthama rolled his shoulders. "Fine. A couple of nights."
Shirou gave a tight nod. "Minimum until the social worker visit."
Ashwatthama turned toward the master bedroom with all the reluctant dignity of a man walking to his own trial. Satoshi stared after him with wide eyes, looking like he was halfway to cardiac arrest.
"We'll need body pillows," he muttered. "And maybe a wall. And maybe holy water."
Shirou smirked faintly, walking past him into the room. "Just don't sleep nude."
Satoshi followed, groaning under his breath.
Ashwatthama, already standing at the foot of the bed, grunted. "If either of you snore, I'm leaving."
The bed luckily didn't creak under the weight of three grown men, none of whom looked remotely comfortable with the arrangement.
Satoshi was in the middle, stiff as a plank, arms folded on top of the blanket like he was bracing for an explosion. Shirou lay on his left side, at Satoshi's right, arm tucked beneath his head, watching the ceiling with a tired but calm expression. Ashwatthama, shirtless again and radiating body heat like a furnace, was on Satoshi's left—flat on his back, arms crossed, gaze pointed firmly at the far wall like it owed him money.
Nobody spoke for a long moment.
"…This is weird," Satoshi muttered.
"No argument here," Shirou said.
Ashwatthama grunted. "Humans have invented houses with multiple beds. Why aren't we using them?"
"Because," Shirou said patiently, "our future adopted daughter just assumed we would sleep like a happy trio, and we've got a social worker on the way who'll probably ask her questions."
"And The Company already registered our marriage," Satoshi added under his breath. "Against our will."
"That too," Shirou muttered.
Ashwatthama growled lowly. "This Company seems less like a sponsor and more like a parasite."
"It's both," Shirou and Satoshi said at the same time.
They shared a brief glance. It was almost funny. Almost.
Satoshi cleared his throat. "Look… we're stuck like this for now, but maybe it wouldn't be bad to, I don't know, talk. Get to know each other?"
"You want to bond?" Ashwatthama said dryly.
"We're in the same bed," Satoshi snapped. "Let me have something, okay?"
Shirou chuckled, amused despite himself. "Go on then, Husband. Break the ice."
Satoshi exhaled. "Okay. Um… Ashwatthama, what do you think of the Protectorate? From the information you were given by the company."
"Cowards playing soldiers," he said instantly.
"...Okay, fair," Satoshi muttered.
"They hoard power, bow to politicians, and barely keep control over their own. And when cities burn, they'll save themselves first."
"...That's also fair," Shirou admitted.
Satoshi rubbed his face. "And the Company?"
Ashwatthama's jaw tightened. "Manipulators. Better at it than most magi, ready to play pupeteers and pull the strings, with little care for the lives they play with."
"Yeah," Satoshi said softly. "They are like that."
Silence fell again.
"What about you two?" Ashwatthama asked. "How'd you end up married before I got here?"
Satoshi opened his mouth, but Shirou cut in smoothly. "The same Company stunt. Apparently every companion we summon will be married to Satoshi. He summoned me first and we didn't know we were married until later."
Ashwatthama looked at him. "And you stayed?"
Shirou shrugged. "He cooked."
"…Seriously?"
"I've stayed for less. Also, we thought I was going to be the only husband, so there's that."
Satoshi groaned and buried his face in a pillow.
Ashwatthama didn't laugh, but the corner of his mouth might have twitched.
"Do you trust him?" he asked Shirou suddenly.
Shirou looked at the ceiling for a long moment. "Yes. Against my better judgment."
Ashwatthama turned toward Satoshi. "And you trust him?"
Satoshi peeked out from the pillow. "He saved a bunch of people. Saved me more than once. And didn't murder me when he had the chance. So… yeah. I do."
Ashwatthama looked between them. Then lay back again. "…I don't trust either of you yet."
"That's okay," Satoshi said. "We'll earn it."
The room fell quiet again. This time, it wasn't tense. Just heavy with unspoken thoughts and three heartbeats gradually syncing in shared silence.
Eventually, Satoshi yawned. "Okay. Let's just… try to sleep. Please don't snore."
"You know I don't," Shirou said.
"I grind my teeth," Ashwatthama warned.
"…I'll sleep with earplugs, just in case," Satoshi muttered. "And kick you both if you need it."
And somehow, that made all three of them chuckle.
.
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Also, if you want to support me and read chapters ahead, go to my p@treon: JorieDS