A few moments later, Rin sat on the couch in the Emiya living room, arms crossed and glaring daggers at the blonde sitting awkwardly across from her. Her intense eyes burned with the fury of someone trying desperately to make sense of a puzzle with missing pieces. The blonde—who was apparently Shirō Emiya—flinched under her gaze, her hands clasped tightly together in her lap as if that would somehow protect her from Rin's unrelenting interrogation.
"So," Rin began, her voice sharp enough to cut steel, "let's see if you really are Shirō Emiya." She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she stared her down.
Shirō, or whoever this was, gulped audibly. "I-I already told you—"
"Shut up," Rin snapped, cutting her off. "You're going to answer my questions, and you're going to do it right now. Got it?"
Shirō nodded meekly, her green eyes wide with nervous energy.
"Alright," Rin said, narrowing her eyes. "What's the name of our school?"
"Homurahara Academy," Shirō replied without hesitation.
Rin frowned. "Fine. Who's the Student Council President?"
"I-Issei Ryuudou," Shirō said, her voice a little shaky now. "He's a good friend of mine."
Rin's brow twitched. "What about the Archery Club? Who's the captain?"
"Uh, Shinji Matou," Shirō answered, looking away for a moment. "Though I wouldn't call him a good captain. He's… not great with people."
Rin's eyes narrowed further. "And Sakura Matou? Who is she to you?"
"Sakura? She's… she's a friend," Shirō said, her voice softening. "She comes over sometimes to help with cooking and cleaning."
Rin leaned back, her arms still crossed, her expression sceptical but less accusatory. "Hmph. Well, you've got all the answers right so far." She turned her head to Archer, who stood silently by the door, watching the exchange with his usual calm, calculating demeanour. "What do you think, Archer? Is she lying?"
Archer sighed, running a hand through his silver hair. "She's not lying. I've confirmed it already."
Rin's head snapped toward him, her expression somewhere between disbelief and exasperation. "What? You mean—"
"She really is Shirō Emiya," Archer said plainly, his eyes flicking to the blonde sitting nervously on the couch.
Rin slapped a hand to her forehead, groaning loudly. "This is insane. What the hell, Shirō? How are you a servant?!"
"I told you," Shirō said, her voice rising in frustration, "I'm not a servant! I'm an independent citizen of Japan, not some slave!"
"That's not the same thing!" Rin shouted, throwing her hands in the air. "God, I am losing my mind. Archer, go make me a coffee before I completely lose it."
"I'll do it," Shirō said quickly, standing up so abruptly that she nearly tripped over the hem of her blue dress. "I've got it. Just… sit tight, okay?"
Before Rin could protest, Shirō shuffled off toward the small pantry near the kitchen, her movements clumsy and unfamiliar. Rin and Archer exchanged a look, both of them unsure whether to be alarmed or fascinated.
In the kitchen, Shirō moved with a mixture of muscle memory and utter confusion, fumbling with the coffee maker but somehow managing to get everything in place. The sound of water dripping and the smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air.
"Uh, Archer, was itr?" Shirō called from the kitchen, her voice hesitant but polite. "Do you want anything? Tea, maybe?"
Archer blinked, momentarily thrown off by the question. "Uh, no. I'm fine."
Rin, still seated on the couch, buried her face in her hands. "This can't be happening…"
Meanwhile, Shirō returned with a steaming cup of coffee, carefully setting it down on the table in front of Rin before taking her seat again. "There. Coffee. Just the way you like it, I think."
Rin stared at the cup, then at Shirō, then back at the cup. "…Okay, now I 'really' believe you're Shirō."
Rin's explanation of the Holy Grail War left Shirō with a spinning head. Servants? Command Spells? A battle royale for a magical cup? It sounded like something straight out of a manga, not real life. Yet, here she was, sitting in her own living room, wearing a warrior's dress that didn't feel remotely like her own, listening to this madness. She scratched the back of her head, her green eyes flickering with confusion.
"So, uh… why am I like 'this' then?" Shirō asked, gesturing to herself as if her current appearance were someone else's problem to fix.
"You answer 'me,' Emiya-kun!" Rin snapped, crossing her arms with a glare. "How the hell did you become your own servant?"
"I don't know!" Shirō shot back, throwing up her hands. "I didn't even know servants existed until five minutes ago!"
In the corner of the room, Archer stood stiffly with his arms folded, his eyes closed in an attempt to look calm. Internally, however, he was far from it. His past self was Saber. His past self was Saber. His 'past self' was 'Saber.' The thought looped in his head like a broken record, threatening to shatter what little composure he had left.
Rin, determined to make sense of the situation, leaned forward and grabbed Shirō's hands, startling the blonde. "Alright then, where are the Command Spells?"
"The what?" Shirō yelped, nearly pulling her hands away.
"The Command Spells!" Rin repeated, holding onto her hands tightly and scanning them like a hawk. "Every Master has Command Spells. You 'must' have them somewhere!"
"I don't know!" Shirō protested again, her voice rising in frustration.
"There 'has' to be some Command Spells," Rin insisted, narrowing her eyes. "If you summoned yourself as a servant, they're somewhere on your body." She straightened, her expression turning resolute. "Alright, Emiya-kun, take off your clothes."
"W-WHAT?!" Shirō's face turned bright red as she instinctively wrapped her arms around herself. "Why would I do that?!"
"I need to check for the Command Spells," Rin said matter-of-factly, as if this was the most logical request in the world.
"That doesn't mean I'm just going to strip in front of you!" Shirō shot back, her blush deepening. "What kind of ridiculous logic is that?"
"Ridiculous?" Rin's brow twitched, her tone dangerously low. "You're the one who somehow managed to become your own servant, and 'I'm' being ridiculous?"
"Yes!"
"You are 'impossible!'" Rin huffed, glaring at Shirō with all the irritation of someone dealing with a particularly stubborn child.
"Uh, do I get a say in this?" Shirō muttered, shrinking back into the couch.
"Absolutely not!" Rin barked.
Archer sighed heavily, cutting through their argument like a sword through paper. "It doesn't matter," he said, his voice calm but firm. "Whether she has Command Spells or not, it's clear now that Shirō is a Saber-class independent servant. That's all there is to it."
Rin turned her glare on Archer. "Independent or not, she's still connected to the Holy Grail War, which means we need to figure out what she plans to do about it." She crossed her arms again, looking back at Shirō. "Alright, Emiya-kun. The real question is: do you intend to join the war or not?"
Shirō blinked, the weight of the question pressing down on her. "Join the war?" she repeated, her voice quieter now.
"Yes," Rin said firmly. "This war isn't a game, Emiya-kun. There will be a lot of deaths. Servants, Masters, even civilians—everyone involved gets dragged into this cycle of violence. You can't just sit this out if you're part of it."
The room fell silent as Shirō thought. Images of the fire that had devastated Fuyuki City all those years ago flashed in her mind, along with the faces of people she'd sworn to protect. Death and destruction, repeated endlessly, like a circle with no escape. And now, here she was, somehow tangled up in that same cycle again.
"I…" Shirō hesitated, her hands clenching tightly in her lap.
Seeing her pause, Rin's expression softened—just slightly. "You're coming with me," she said decisively.
"Huh?" Shirō blinked in surprise.
"I'm taking you to the church," Rin explained. "The overseer of the war is there, and he'll help us sort this out."
Shirō frowned, glancing down at her hands. "The church…?"
"Yes," Rin said, standing up and dusting off her skirt. "It's where the overseer—my guardian, actually—monitors the war. If anyone can explain this mess, it's him."
Shirō nodded slowly, though she still looked uncertain. "Okay… I guess that makes sense."
"Good," Rin said briskly, turning toward the door. "Let's go. And try not to do anything stupid, Emiya-kun."
Shirō sighed, standing up as well. "I'll try my best…"
Archer followed them out, his usual smirk replaced with a pensive frown. His past self was Saber. No matter how many times he thought it, it didn't get any easier to accept.
TO BE CONTINUED