The afternoon sun spilled gently through the hallway windows, casting long golden lines across the floor. Students shuffled past with the usual mix of chatter and dragging footsteps, but two boys stood out slightly from the crowd—not because they were loud, but because they didn't quite fit into it.
Shirou and Kazuhiko walked side by side, their steps slow and casual, as if drifting rather than heading somewhere in particular.
"Never thought you were actually in my class," Kazuhiko said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. His tone was casual, but a little amused.
Shirou glanced sideways at him, raising an eyebrow. "You know, I thought I was pretty infamous in that class... but I guess there's still someone who doesn't know me."
The camera would pan slightly as Kazuhiko blinked, genuinely confused. "Sorry, Emiya. I don't really pay much attention to the people around me."
Then he tilted his head. "Though... what do you mean by infamous?"
Shirou exhaled through his nose—half a sigh, half a chuckle. "Well, I did cause a scene yesterday."
Kazuhiko came to a slight stop, eyes widening. The background chatter dimmed slightly, as if the sound mix deliberately softened to highlight his reaction."Wait—are you saying you're that guy who ran out of school?"
Shirou nodded silently. There was no attempt to explain or justify. Just a simple, accepting nod.
A beat passed. Then Kazuhiko laughed—not mockingly, but with the slight awe of someone realizing they're talking to a bit of school legend.
"Wow... You actually did it."
Shirou raised an eyebrow again. "You mean?"
"Like, breaking school rules. Did you get called by the teacher?"
Shirou shook his head, his voice calm. "Not yet. Maybe they don't care that much... considering it was the last class before school ended."
A gust of wind stirred through the hallway, rustling the hem of Shirou's blazer as the two continued walking. The bell tower in the distance chimed softly—signaling that lunch break was nearing its end.
"Ah, Hikigaya!"
Shirou kept walking, unfazed. The name still didn't feel real to him.Must be calling someone else, he thought casually, not even turning around.
Kazuhiko glanced sideways but said nothing, and the two of them continued down the hallway, shoes tapping softly against the linoleum floor. Then—
YANK.
"Wha—!?"
Shirou suddenly lurched backward, someone grabbing him by the collar with practiced ease.
"Hikigaya Emiya!"
"Eh!?"
His whole body spun slightly from the force, and when he turned around, he found himself face-to-face with a woman in a white lab coat. She looked to be in her twenties, though there was a sharpness to her presence that made her feel far older. Her long, dark hair framed her face like a blade, and more than her expression—it was the aura around her that made his instincts scream danger.
Standing before him, arms crossed and eyebrow twitching, was none other than—
"Ah... it's you. Hiratsuka-sensei."
The teacher narrowed her eyes. "So you're not actually deaf. Good to know."
Shirou stiffened slightly.Is that a compliment or just a straight-up insult...?
Before he could say anything, Hiratsuka pointed a perfectly manicured finger right at his nose.
"Anyway—my office. After school. Got it? And don't you dare run away again."
A small bead of sweat slid down the side of Shirou's face. Her voice was calm, but the threat behind it was anything but subtle.
As she walked off—her lab coat fluttering dramatically behind her.
If he remembered correctly, she was their homeroom teacher, and also the one handling Modern Japanese. More importantly, for some unknown reason, she was also assigned as his personal academic advisor.
Why? He still had absolutely no idea.
"Isn't that our homeroom teacher? Is she always that scary?" Kazuhiko asked, a bead of sweat forming on his temple as he watched Hiratsuka-sensei disappear around the corner.
Shirou scratched his cheek awkwardly. "Well… I don't know. Maybe it's because of the whole scene I caused yesterday."
He let out a small sigh, eyes trailing the hallway floor.
"Hopefully she's not going to be too harsh on me…"
Kazuhiko gave him a sidelong glance. "You sound like a guy headed to his execution."
"Not far off," Shirou replied with a tired smile. "There's something about her… feels like I'm being lectured before I even say a word."
--
break time!
In the world of Fate, the laws of nature aren't universal—they're local. Each celestial body in the universe operates on its own unique set of rules, completely different from the ones found on Earth. What may seem impossible here—like moving at the speed of light or manipulating time—might be entirely natural somewhere else. On Earth, the force known as Gaia enforces strict limitations that prevent such feats. But on the Moon, within the digital realm of the Moon Cell, or on alien planets like those inhabited by the Types, reality bends to different logic. There, mystery reigns, and concepts like mass, inertia, or time flow can be rewritten. In fact, if someone were to travel to one of these other celestial bodies, it's not unthinkable that they could run at the speed of light—because the world itself would allow it. After all, in the Nasuverse, even the impossible becomes reality if the stage permits it.
After school...
Shirou now stood in front of the teacher's office—the kind of place where educators either reviewed stacks of student homework with grim determination… or just sat back scrolling through their phones during downtime. Well, it was 2025. That's just how things worked now.
"Excuse me," Shirou said as he opened the door and stepped inside.He glanced to the left… then again, just to be sure.And there she was—Hiratsuka-sensei, seated at her desk, staring intently at a stack of papers.
Shirou walked over toward her.
"Hi, Hiratsuka-sensei."
"Oh, it's you, Hikigaya. Good, have a seat."
He quietly sat down in the chair across from her.
"May I know why I'm here?"
"Oh? I thought you already knew."She pulled out a paper and placed it on the desk between them.
"Now, Hikigaya—can you tell me what the assignment was that I gave you during class?"
Shirou raised an eyebrow as he glanced at the essay.He tried his best to recall something—anything. But no matter how hard he dug through the fog, nothing surfaced. The memories of this world's Shirou—this 'Hikigaya'—were too blurry. Too incomplete.
"I'm sorry… I can't remember. Could you remind me what it was?"
Hiratsuka-sensei gave a tight-lipped smile—the kind that made a student's stomach twist.It wasn't kind. It wasn't cruel.It was the kind of smile teachers wore just before lowering the guillotine.
"Oh, so you don't remember?" she said sweetly, too sweetly. "Well then, the assignment was titled 'Looking Back at High School Life.'"She placed her elbow on the desk and rested her chin on her hand."Now tell me, Hikigaya… does this look like something that reflects that theme?"
She slid the paper across the desk to him with a motion that felt far too heavy for such a thin sheet.
Shirou took it. The camera would zoom in on his eyes narrowing slightly as they scanned the paper.
The paper was slightly crumpled, its edges worn—like it had been through war.
He glanced at the title, then the first line.
Youth is lies. Youth is evil.
His eyebrows twitched.
…What?
He continued reading, unsure if he should laugh, panic, or prepare an apology.
Those who incessantly celebrate their teenage years are lying both to themselves and to those around them.
A drop of sweat slid down his cheek.
That's... a strong start.
These people interpret everything in their environment as an affirmation of their beliefs—
—and when they make mistakes that prove fatal, they see those very mistakes as proof of the value of the teen experience.
Okay, wow. That's… dark. That's really dark.
He blinked.
When people like this dirty their hands with criminal acts like shoplifting or gang violence, they call it mere "youthful indiscretion."
This guy is comparing skipping class to gang violence…?
Shirou turned the page, hesitant.
They will twist any common sense or normal interpretation of their actions in the name of the word "youth."
Secrets, lies, crimes, failures—it's all just "spice of youth," huh?
He let out a breath.
Who hurt you?
And then—he read the next part.
If failure is the proof of the teen experience, then wouldn't an individual who has failed to make friends be having the ultimate teen experience?
He paused.
...Okay, that one kind of hits hard.
But then came the final blow.
YOU NORMIES CAN GO DIE IN A FIRE
Shirou's hands froze. The room suddenly felt ten degrees colder.
He slowly looked up at Hiratsuka-sensei, who had been watching him the entire time.
She gave him a long, deep stare.
"...So, Hikigaya. Anything you'd like to say?"
Shirou coughed, gently placing the paper back on the desk like it was cursed.
"...I think I now understand why I'm here."
Shirou lowered the paper gently, exhaling a small breath through his nose.
(Now I understand why this guy had no friends...)(Thanks for the cursed knowledge, mystery essay. I'll fix every mistake my alternate self made, starting now.)Shirou nodded to himself, determination flashing subtly in his eyes.
Just as Hiratsuka-sensei began to speak—"Yes, yes, now before you start explaining—"
"I'm very sorry, Hiratsuka-sensei. Could you give me some time to fix it?"Shirou bowed his head slightly, voice sincere and calm.
"…Eh?"
Hiratsuka blinked, caught completely off guard. Her mouth was slightly open, as if the wind had been knocked out of her sarcasm.
"…You're not gonna argue? Not gonna say something snide and dramatic like last time?"
Hiratsuka's fingers froze mid-drum on the table.(…Can someone change this fast?) she thought, eyes narrowing slightly.The tone. The posture. The absence of that usual snide detachment—It didn't match him at all.
This wasn't the boy who wrote that essay.This wasn't the boy who flung fire at youth like he was trying to exorcise it.
It was subtle, but Hiratsuka could feel it.That very sentence—rational, calm, cooperative—felt like a rejection of Hikigaya Emiya himself.A contradiction. A split in the identity she had already boxed up in her mind.
Was it fake? A mask? Or had something happened?
She leaned back slowly, arms folded. A long pause hung between them like dust motes in a sunbeam.
"…No," she said suddenly, breaking the silence with a note of calculation in her voice."I think I have something better for you to do."
Shirou blinked. "Huh?"