Sometime earlier, Tsutsumi woke up early. His eyes shifted toward the sleeping blonde in the corner, bundled up tightly in a blanket. She looked almost buried in it.
Like her, he also saw her memories when he fell asleep. A side effect of the shared contract.
But for him, none of it was new. Thanks to the Form Ride: Arthur card, he already knew everything about her long before this. Her story, her past, all of it. He understood it, but he didn't really feel anything. At that time, his thoughts had been focused on a different blonde.
Looking around at the destroyed house, Tsutsumi let out a small sigh before getting up. He started cleaning the place, repairing whatever was still repairable.
He could've just left.
But he didn't. He had already figured out that this was another Holy Grail War. Not the same as the one he'd fought in, but close enough. The structure was similar, and so was the prize.
A wish.
Which was enough to make him stay. If he won, maybe he could remove the curse of Decade.
He didn't want to be the destroyer of worlds. He just wanted a quiet life with the people he cared about. But he still needed his power to find and protect those he cared for. Giving it up wasn't an option.
So, since he was staying anyway, he might as well clean up his new house.
The place was big, and the layout was almost identical to the home where he first found Miyu in her world. But aside from that resemblance, this house had nothing special.
Once the kitchen was done, Tsutsumi started making breakfast. The food was simple, but warm enough to fill the empty air of the somewhat empty home.
After he finished cooking, he turned around and immediately spotted a yellow ahoge sticking out from behind the corner. Even without seeing her face, the loud growling of her stomach told him exactly who it was.
"As expected of a useless Saber, already dead but still hungry for food," Tsutsumi said.
He tilted his head slightly, and a golden sword flew past him, stabbing straight into the tatami mat.
"Shut it, you bastard! Whose fault was it that I'm like this?!" Artoria shouted.
If he hadn't cut off 95% of her magic supply, she wouldn't be living like a starving stray with barely any energy left.
In a normal Grail War, a Servant losing their supply meant their Master's death was almost guaranteed.
But after last night, she had seen enough to know that Tsutsumi didn't have that kind of weakness.
He didn't actually need her help. He could fight on his own just fine. And that was what annoyed her the most.
Tsutsumi suddenly pulled out a small mirror and held it out to her. "Look into this, and you will see the one responsible for your current state."
Artoria's eyelid twitched the moment she saw her reflection.
Then she launched herself at him.
...
"The Holy Grail War is a war between seven magi, who will summon seven Heroic Spirits to fight each other to the death. The winner gets a wish from the Holy Grail," Artoria explained, right before opening her mouth like a starving animal and devouring the rest of Tsutsumi's breakfast in one bite.
"So it's not that different from what I remember," Tsutsumi murmured. He was sitting cross-legged on her back, using her like a chair, pinning her to the floor as if it was part of the morning routine.
"What do you mean?" she grunted, trying to push him off while craning her neck up at him.
"Nothing." He finally stood and started cleaning the mess they made. Again.
Somehow, her existence made any room look like a crime scene.
Back in Miyu's world, he had learned how to sense when a Heroic Spirit was nearby.
So, ideally, he wanted to run around and hunt down the other Servants. The only problem was the difference between worlds.
Like how in his world, he was Jiro Kyoka's childhood friend, but in other worlds, they never even met.
Tiny differences that would snowball into completely new timelines.
And since Tsutsumi didn't know this world or the exact rules of this Grail War, he wasn't going to act recklessly. This world wasn't collapsing, and he didn't have a reason to become the enemy of humanity.
So there was no reason to turn into the monster he kept trying not to be.
"Put on some clothes." He pointed at her, annoyed at the sight of her walking around wrapped in the same blanket like a cold burrito.
"I can't! You only give me enough magical energy not to get erased by the world! And you tore my dress off last night!" she snapped. "I'm not wasting my remaining supply on clothes!"
As a Heroic Spirit, her body and outfit were constructed from magic energy. With enough magic energy, she could restore anything instantly.
But with barely any left, wasting even a drop on clothing was basically volunteering to die.
And honestly, that death was more humiliating than getting turned into a weapon and watching herself being used to attack her own ally.
"Tch. Put this on." He clicked his tongue and tossed his shirt at her. "I don't want an exhibitionist Servant."
She glared but didn't complain. She pulled the shirt under the blanket and slipped it on.
On her 154-centimeter frame, his shirt, thanks to his 173 centimeters, looked less like clothing and more like a suspiciously short dress.
"Why does a man like you even wear pink?" she muttered, staring at the black-white-and-pink pattern like it insulted her ancestors.
"It's magenta. Not surprised you're color blind." he said right before a pillow crashed into his face.
"Shut it! Does anything good ever come out of your mouth?!" she yelled, turning away with an annoyed huff. She wrapped the blanket around herself again like she was hiding from reality.
Tsutsumi blinked.
He remembered Artoria being this unreachable king who didn't understand human emotions.
Right now she looked more like a moody teenager than a knight.
Unbeknownst to both of them, this shift happened because of Tsutsumi.
During their first meeting, he had utterly violated her and used her in a way Morgan couldn't.
Being picked up like she weighed nothing, having her Dragon Core ripped out, turned into a sword, and used to cut down her own ally, it cracked something inside her. Not physically. Something else. Something she didn't want to think about.
She subconsciously shoved those memories into the Throne of Heroes, like leaving a note for her other self to one day get revenge.
And doing that accidentally peeled back the king-like shell she kept around herself, called King Arthur.
Whenever she saw him, it was like a cruel reminder that she wasn't some untouchable king, but she was also a human who could be hurt in ways that she hadn't expected.
If ripping out the Dragon Core was the first blow, turning her into Excalibur and making her harm her own ally was the second. Being tossed aside once he was done using her crushed whatever remained of her royal composure in front of him.
Showing that she might once have been this untouchable king in the past, but when in front of him, she was no more than a tool in his eyes.
Now, when she is around Tsutsumi, she doesn't bother pretending to act like a knight in front of him.
So when facing him. She instinctively reverted to a more feminine version of herself, turning back into the girl she once was, who hadn't pulled the sword out from the stone and become king.
They both didn't know about this, and neither cared.
Artoria didn't feel like she needed to keep up the image of a knight and a king when in front of him, and Tsutsumi still didn't care enough to think deeply about it.
Using Creation, Tsutsumi made a pair of short jeans and tossed them to her.
"Put this on. We're going shopping," he said, already wearing a different shirt.
"Why?" she asked, slipping the shorts on under the blanket.
"Because I may dislike you, but I don't hate you."
She paused. Dislike and hate sounded the same to her, but whatever.
Then he added, "To turn you into a slave and strip you of all your rights."
"I KNEW IT! There really is nothing good that comes out of your mouth!!" she shouted.
...
In the streets of Fuyuki, Tsutsumi and Artoria walked side by side, drawing more stares than either of them appreciated.
Artoria, with her foreign features, already looked like she'd stepped out of a magazine. Tsutsumi, meanwhile, had hair colored in a gradient of purple and magenta that practically screamed for attention under the city lights.
"Just so we're clear, this is not a date," Artoria said flatly, matching his stride.
"It never was one," he replied just as drily. His only objective was to get her some clothes so she wouldn't be half-naked around the house. Sure, he could just give her more magic energy, but granting extra power to someone who might stab him in his sleep didn't exactly seem wise.
They headed toward the Fuyuki mall, crowded, bright, and loud, and went straight for the women's clothing section.
"I don't know what to pick. I'm not good at this..." Artoria murmured, staring at racks of dresses, blouses, skirts, and more lace than she thought could exist in one place.
Raised as a boy, trained as a knight, and accustomed to armor plates rather than frills, her taste in fashion was… minimal. A shirt she could move in and pants that didn't restrict her, those were already luxuries in her eyes. The only reason she'd ever worn that armored dress was because her knights and Merlin insisted on it.
"Same..." Tsutsumi admitted. This was the first time he had ever taken a girl shopping for clothing and underwear.
"Figures..." she muttered, annoyance edging her tone. "So what is my budget?"
Of course she expected him to pay, since she literally had no money on her.
"Pick whatever you like so we can leave," he said, already feeling dozens of stares drilling into him from every direction. His androgynous face and lean build weren't helping; half the women in the store looked like they were trying to decide if he was a pretty boy or a handsome tomboy.
"Ryoko, how does this one look?" Artoria asked, turning toward him while holding up an outfit.
His eyelid twitched.
In Japan, using someone's given name outside of family or close friendship was borderline rude. And Artoria, who had clearly learned this, was abusing the knowledge with a smirk.
"Tch! Horrible," Tsutsumi shot back. "You look like some girl trying to crossdress as a man."
Artoria glared daggers at him, but didn't deny it. She simply grabbed another set of clothes and moved on.
The ordeal took far longer than it needed to. Artoria dragged him through every aisle, made him give opinions he didn't have, and even pulled him toward the underwear section.
Watching the annoyance build on his face only made her smile more. She purposefully slowed down, switching from one style to another with exaggerated deliberation.
"In the end, you just pick the same pair you started with," Tsutsumi muttered as they finally left, Artoria carrying several bags.
"I have no idea what you're talking about. These were simply the most comfortable." She said it with a knowing smile. Torturing him for hours while the female staff eyed him like a rare animal? Truly a delightful experience. Seeing him annoyed and uncomfortable was the best thing she'd had since her summon.
As they were walking back, a loud growl suddenly escaped Artoria's stomach. Her eyes immediately locked onto the row of restaurants lining the mall walkway.
"Tch, you're lucky the fridge is broken," Tsutsumi sighed. Remembering the fridge back home was broken during their fight.
They entered a casual restaurant, and Tsutsumi, along with the waiters, watched as Artoria steadily built walls out of empty plates around herself.
"Huh… maybe this is the real reason why Britain fell," he muttered.
Artoria shot him a chilling glare but didn't stop eating. In fact, she increased her pace slightly, as if she intended to bankrupt him out of spite.
Too bad for her, Azu had already hacked into the system. Every bill they racked up was quietly redirected and covered without Tsutsumi paying a single yen.