The summer heat was brutal. Yuu squinted against the glare bouncing off the asphalt as he followed the white lines toward Fuyuki City. His air conditioning was struggling, and he could feel sweat starting to stick his shirt to the driver's seat.
Fuyuki was one of those mid-sized coastal towns you'd find scattered along Japan's coast—nothing too special at first glance. The Mion River cut right through the middle, with the modern business district on the east side and the older residential areas sprawled across the west. Most people just saw a sleepy town with decent river views.
What they didn't realize was that the place sat atop powerful veins of magical energy—a major ley line intersection that made it prime real estate for any kind of magecraft. The Tohsaka family had managed it for generations, keeping the Mage's Association satisfied and the local magi from stepping on each other's toes.
That's where Tokiomi came in.
Yuu drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, thinking back to their Clock Tower days. Funny how they'd ended up friends—two Japanese guys trying to navigate London's stuffy magical academia. Tokiomi had been studying Mineralogy while Yuu focused on Archaeology. Both majors that cost a fortune and left you perpetually broke.
The whole trip started because of some business opportunity. Tokiomi had written him last year asking for help tracking down ancient artifacts. Recently, Yuu had come across this snake skin—apparently from some ancient stream serpent. Rare stuff, but the seller was asking for an arm and a leg.
He'd been about to call Tokiomi to discuss it when he remembered the guy still didn't own a phone. "It's 1994, for Christ's sake," Yuu muttered to himself. Some traditions die hard, he supposed.
Then, out of nowhere, another letter arrived asking him to visit Fuyuki in person. Perfect timing.
The only downside was leaving Tokyo for several days. His assistant had pitched a fit about the scheduling nightmare it would create.
"What the hell does he need me for?" Yuu wondered aloud, glancing at the letter on his passenger seat. The tone had been weird—way more formal and humble than Tokiomi's usual correspondence. The guy had always been proud, maybe a little too traditional, but this felt different.
A nagging thought crept in. "He's not planning to drag me into some magical pissing contest, is he?"
Most magi kept to themselves, but when they did clash, it usually meant someone wasn't walking away. Fundamental disagreements about magical philosophy had a way of turning lethal pretty quickly.
Yuu really hoped that wasn't it. Tokiomi knew he hated getting involved in other people's feuds. If it was something that serious, surely he would've been more direct in the letter.
"Guess I'll find out soon enough." He pressed harder on the gas pedal, and the engine responded with a growl as the sedan climbed into the mountain pass leading to Fuyuki.
…
Back at the Clock Tower, Yuu had earned a reputation as something of an anomaly. The official assessment called him "an orthodox magus who doesn't seem orthodox"—which was academic-speak for "we're not sure what to make of this guy."
Most magi were obsessive. They'd pick one magical specialty and tunnel-vision their way through it for decades, sometimes their entire lives. Single-minded pursuit was considered a virtue.
Yuu took a different approach. Sure, he was passionate about learning, but if he hit a dead end or couldn't access the resources he needed, he'd just switch to something else interesting. Why bang your head against a wall when there was so much other fascinating stuff to explore?
His philosophy was simple: knowledge was infinite, so why limit yourself to one narrow path? Making connections between different fields often led to better insights anyway.
The other magi called him lazy. Some used less polite terms. The general consensus was that he'd end up mediocre—a jack of all trades, master of none.
Tokiomi had always disagreed. He saw something in Yuu that others missed. "Still waters run deep," he'd say. The guy might seem casual about everything, but when he finally made his move, people would take notice.
The Tohsaka mansion sat on elevated ground in Miyama, visible from pretty much anywhere in the old town. It was an interesting architectural choice—part traditional Japanese, part European influence. Probably built by some ancestor who'd spent time abroad, like most old magical families.
Yuu spotted Tokiomi before he'd even parked. The guy was standing at the front entrance wearing that red coat he'd always favored, though he'd added a beard since their last meeting. Still had that ramrod-straight posture that made him look like he was perpetually attending a formal ceremony.
As Yuu climbed out of his car, Tokiomi's expression softened into something approaching warmth.
"Yuu-kun. Has it really been three years?"
"About that." Yuu slammed the car door and got straight to the point. "So what's the emergency? Your letter made it sound pretty serious."
He'd expected Tokiomi to dive straight into business—they'd never been ones for small talk, and magi in general didn't waste time on pleasantries.
Instead, Tokiomi gestured toward the house with an almost formal bow. "Please, come inside first. We have much to discuss."
Something in his tone set off warning bells. This wasn't the straightforward Tokiomi he remembered.
"Look at you, turning into quite the smooth talker," Yuu said with a grin. Tokiomi just smiled back—he'd never minded the teasing.
Inside the living room, two little girls were curled up on the sofa, picture books spread across their laps. They couldn't have been more than six or seven, both with a quiet, delicate prettiness that hinted they'd grow into striking young women.
"These are my daughters, Rin and Sakura," Tokiomi said, his voice warming considerably. "Girls, come say hello to Uncle Yuu."
The kids looked up from their books with those impossibly clear eyes children have. The older one—Rin, apparently—grabbed her little sister's hand and they trotted over together.
"Hello, Uncle Yuu," they chorused, voices bright and polite.
"Well, aren't you two something." Yuu dug around in his jacket pocket and came up with a couple of small gems he'd been carrying around. "Here, for being so well-behaved."
Rin glanced at her father first, clearly asking permission without words. Sakura tugged nervously at her sister's sleeve.
"What do you say to Uncle Yuu?" Tokiomi prompted.
"Thank you!" Rin stepped forward confidently, took both gems, and immediately handed the purple one to Sakura. Good kid.
"Alright, you two can go play now. Uncle Yuu and I need to talk business."
"Okay, Papa."
They headed to Tokiomi's study, but when Aoi followed them in with tea, Yuu raised an eyebrow. Tokiomi had always been particular about keeping family and business separate. Tonight, his wife not only brought refreshments but settled in beside her husband like she planned to stay.
Tokiomi noticed Yuu's look but didn't explain. Something was definitely up.
"So, Yuu-kun," Tokiomi began after an uncomfortable silence, "have you given any thought to starting a family?"
The question came out of nowhere. "Haven't found anyone who'd put up with me long enough," Yuu said, trying to keep things light. "Certainly no one as patient and lovely as Aoi here."
Aoi laughed softly behind her hand. "You're too kind, Yuu-san. I'm the lucky one—Tokiomi's a good husband."
"Still playing the bachelor, then?" Tokiomi pressed, and there was something almost eager in his voice.
"Yeah..." Yuu was starting to feel like he was missing something important. "Why do you ask?"
Tokiomi leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled. "Well, you know how it is for our kind. The pursuit of the Root, passing down our magical lineages... these things require planning."
"I mean, sure, but there's no rush—"
"Tell me," Tokiomi interrupted, leaning forward with an intensity that made Yuu uncomfortable, "what did you think of my daughters?"
The question caught Yuu off guard. His brain just… stopped working for several seconds.
He stared at Tokiomi, sitting there in his formal red coat, looking completely serious. Then he glanced at Aoi, whose smile had become strained, something pained flickering behind her eyes.
'Oh no. Oh hell no. He can't be serious. This bastard... I treat him like a friend, and he wants to become my father-in-law?'