They arrived at the Association mess hall—a space that looked more like a polished restaurant than a cafeteria, the fine furnishings clashing awkwardly with their sportswear. The squad settled in, their chatter easy and unhurried. Shiro sat slightly apart, a small notepad in her lap. Her pen scratched steadily across the page, the only way she could slip her thoughts into the noise around her.
Meanwhile, Nathaniel and George were caught up in a petty debate. George insisted he wasn't wasting his battery on "stupid arguments," while Nathaniel pressed him to charge his phone. The truth came out soon enough: George's charger had been snapped during the wall break, a shard of rubble lodging into it mid-impact. He muttered that he'd pick up a new one—eventually.
Alucard's hand shot out, plucking George's phone from his grip with the kind of effortless authority that made the younger cadet bristle. Without a word, he drew a sleek power bank from his coat and connected the phone.
"Stop bickering," he said, tone flat but edged with condescension. "And carry more chargers."
George scowled, muttering something under his breath, but didn't take the phone back.
Alucard chuckled, a low laugh rumbling under his half mask, and smirked as he handed both the power bank and George's phone back to him. The timing was perfect—they were already at the cashier.
Shirou tugged lightly on Arc's sleeve. He glanced down, catching the small, subtle smile she wore as she held up her notebook. A single line in neat handwriting waited for him.
He read it, nodded once, and without hesitation ordered, "One serving of fries and wings, and a grape juice." He added his own, "And a burger with cola," before sliding the tray along.
Shirou's shoulders relaxed a little, satisfied.
Alucard chuckled, a low laugh rumbling under his half mask, and smirked as he handed both the power bank and George's phone back to him. The timing was perfect—they were already at the cashier.
Shirou tugged lightly on Arc's sleeve. He glanced down, catching the small, subtle smile she wore as she held up her notebook. A single line in neat handwriting waited for him.
He read it, nodded once, and without hesitation ordered, "One serving of fries and wings, and a grape juice." He added his own, "And a burger with cola," before sliding the tray along. Shirou's shoulders relaxed a little, satisfied.
Behind them, Ria leaned halfway over the counter, tapping her finger like a drummer out of tempo."Yeah, yeah, I'll take the triple-stack platter, extra sauce. Don't be stingy this time—I'll know!" Her voice carried across the hall, a few heads turning.
Oliver muttered under his breath, keeping his hood up as he scanned the menu with all the enthusiasm of someone reading an obituary."Salad. Plain. Dressing on the side."Ria whipped her head toward him, exasperated."Salad?! What are you, a rabbit? Live a little, shadow boy."Oliver just gave her a look from beneath his hood that said more than words ever could.
George shuffled forward next, still holding his reclaimed phone like it was precious cargo."Uh, just… chicken strips. Easy on the spice," he mumbled, clearly still annoyed about the charger argument. Alucard slapped him lightly on the shoulder."Pathetic. Spice builds character.""Yeah? Maybe that's why you're seven feet of bad attitude," George shot back.
Erementaru finally stepped up last, his gait deliberate as the metallic limbs of his bionics clicked softly against the tiled floor. He folded his arms, peering down at the board as though every choice was a matter of strategy."The steak bowl. Medium rare. And black tea."The cashier barely blinked, but George leaned toward Arc with a whisper, "He orders like he's planning a battle campaign."
By the time they all carried their trays to an empty table near the window, the clash of personalities was almost louder than the clatter of dishes in the hall. Ria was already teasing Oliver, George was sulking over his charger, and Alucard looked smug about it all. Shirou sat down quietly beside Nathan(Arc), jotting a quick note before sliding it toward him, her eyes glimmering with quiet amusement.
For a fleeting moment, it felt less like a squad of Knights and more like a group of misfit friends stumbling into something like normalcy.
The booth felt like home—like a family gathered for dinner—and that was what Erementaru valued most: his subordinates living their lives well. To him, that was the point of life, something meant to be savored after the grind of duty and survival.
A faint swell of guilt tugged at him, though no trace showed on his face. Behind the visor, his eyes flared with a muted orange glow before dimming, a sliver of energy bleeding from the pores of his prosthetic arm beneath the table. He stilled it quickly, fingers brushing the ring on his steel digit, the nervous habit of a man suppressing ghosts. Blurred memories threatened to resurface, jagged flashes of pain and loss, but he shoved them back down, replacing the flicker of weakness with a subtle smile. He could feel every scar where flesh met alloy—those junctions where his humanity and machine clashed—reminders he carried quietly, unseen, as the voices of his squad filled the air like a shield.
"Hey, George, you're spilling sauce again," Ria barked, laughing as she shoved a napkin across the table."Not my fault the bowl's too small," George shot back, grinning, static dancing faintly over his fingertips as he waved her off."You'd electrocute yourself before you learn table manners," Alucard rumbled, voice muffled behind his mask.Shiro tapped her knuckles on the wood, signing quick gestures that made Ria choke on a laugh, while Oliver leaned back with a dry smirk, throwing in a barbed remark that made the others howl.
Their voices filled the space with warmth and noise, the sound of bonds forged through hardship. Erementaru listened in silence, letting the laughter wash over him. To them, it was just another night. To him, it was a fragile, precious thing—worth more than any battle he'd ever fought.
Shiro tugged Nathaniel's sleeve, her hands flickering with quick, precise signs.Nathaniel blinked, then snorted—actually snorted—before trying to smother it with his fist. A laugh burst out anyway.
"Wait, wait," he signed back, his motions a little clumsy but understandable. "That's messed up."
Shiro's shoulders shook with silent laughter, her face half-hidden behind her notepad.
The rest of Squad 4 stared. To them, it was just Nathaniel and Shiro trading gestures before he suddenly cracked up like a lunatic.
"What the hell was that?" Ria demanded."Yeah," George added, "since when do you know sign language? And why does it feel like you two just defamed one of us ?"
Nathaniel raised his hands defensively, grinning. "Relax, relax. Just… work talk."
But the truth was simple .Shiro had signed: "You're lucky Alucard cant understand us. Otherwise we would have our heads bashed in.", Nathaniel had learned sign language to speak with Shiro more effectively
yet someone watched them from the back of the restaurant they looked on from a booth in the corner she looked relatively normal an above avarage looking salary woman here brown eyes behind their glasses looked on at squad 4 specifically at Nathaniel as her yes seamed to pulse red.
The squad finished their meals and clocked out for the day.