The Next Morning
Hayasaka Ai and Kasumigaoka Utaha made their way to the master bedroom, intending to tidy up Roy's bed.
Cleaning the master's room was, of course, part of a maid's duties. Hayasaka had planned to use this morning as a chance to give Utaha a proper lesson.
"There's no need to clean my room," Roy said with a smile, shutting the door behind him as if to shield whatever lay inside.
"From now on, too—leave my bedroom alone. Unless it's absolutely necessary, don't come near it. Focus on the rest of the house."
The two girls exchanged glances.
They didn't quite understand Roy's reasoning, but if it meant less work, they weren't going to complain.
"Lord Roy, are you hurt?"
Just as Hayasaka was turning to leave, her sharp eyes caught a glimpse of something red on his hand.
His knuckles were split open, raw and ragged, as if he'd slammed his fists into something over and over. The wounds had already scabbed, but the damage was brutal, the skin torn and twisted.
Utaha halted, her brows furrowing. How could he have gotten injured like that inside his own home?
"Oh, this?"
Roy glanced at his hand, then chuckled dismissively.
"It's nothing. Just a scratch. I'll take care of it myself—you two go on."
"…I understand."
Hayasaka's instincts screamed danger. She tugged Utaha away quickly, not pressing further.
Once they were gone, the smile slid from Roy's face. He traced healing runes across his battered knuckles, then etched sealing glyphs into the bedroom door before quietly slipping away.
Days passed in a blur.
The end of January arrived.
That morning—
"Lord Roy, do you have any requests for lunch today?"
Utaha appeared at the study door. The Aozaki library was spacious—larger than two bedrooms put together. She rapped lightly on the open frame.
Roy sat at his desk, toying with something spread across the surface.
Utaha didn't look too closely. He'd warned them before: magical items weren't to be stared at carelessly. The consequences could be unpredictable.
"No offal," Roy replied flatly.
"We weren't planning on cooking anything with offal," Utaha muttered.
"Then it's fine. Cook whatever you like—I'm not picky otherwise." He waved her away.
Utaha nodded and left.
In truth, she felt relieved. She had no taste for organ meats herself. But in this world, food scarcity had forced people to eat anything edible, and countless offal-based dishes had been invented over the years. Still, she couldn't stomach them.
Thank goodness Roy shared her aversion.
"Hayasaka, I'm heading out."
"Wait—soy sauce is running low. Pick up a bottle on your way back."
"Got it."
Basket in hand, Utaha set out.
After half an hour in the commercial district, she'd bought enough food for three people for two days. Yet when she paid, she couldn't suppress a gasp.
Even though she'd braced herself, the prices still shocked her. Vegetables alone cost at least five times what they had back in her world—some as much as ten. And this was with order restored. What must it have been like in the chaos right after the Catastrophe? She couldn't even imagine.
"Utaha-senpai?"
A surprised, delighted voice rang out behind her—one she recognized instantly.
Utaha turned, a flicker of joy stirring at the sight of a familiar face.
"Lun… what happened to you?"
Standing not far away was Aki Lun'ya, the boy with the ever-present black-framed glasses.
But he was unrecognizable. His lips were cracked, his skin greasy and pale, exhaustion etched deep into his features. He looked as if he hadn't slept in days. A scabbed wound split across his forehead.
When Lun'ya saw Utaha—still refined, still beautiful, still composed—he forced a crooked smile.
"Senpai… you seem to be living well."
Utaha flinched.
Sure, Lun'ya had always been a little sloppy, but only to the extent of a typical otaku. He had never looked like this—like a man halfway to the grave.
She quickly ushered him into a café, ordering tea and snacks just to put some color back into him.
"What happened to you?" she demanded.
"…Just bad luck," he said flatly, sipping at the tea, moistening his cracked lips. "I ended up with the wrong master."
The memory struck Utaha like lightning.
That day, Lun'ya had been taken away by that dark-skinned youth. She remembered it vividly—how that man had looked at her, too, before Roy had stepped in and claimed her instead.
Looking now at Lun'ya's hollow expression, Utaha shivered.
What had he been put through to become like this?
If Lun'ya—whom no one had even shown much interest in—was this broken, then what if she had been the one taken by that man? What horrors would she have suffered?
Worse, many times worse, no doubt.
The thought made her clutch her arms, seeking warmth against the chill crawling through her bones.
"What exactly did you go through?" she whispered.
"…Senpai, can I ask you a favor?"
Lun'ya lowered his gaze, unable to meet her eyes.
"I want to get away from my current master. But I can't. That day, your master pulled you away from him right in front of everyone… maybe he can do the same for me. Please. I'll do anything—mining, farming, servitude, whatever it takes. Anything's better than staying in that hell."
The terror on his face was undeniable.
Utaha couldn't imagine the torment he'd endured.
"…I'll see what I can do," she said at last.
She couldn't promise more. After all, she herself was nothing more than a refugee.
When she returned home, Utaha set down the groceries, then found Roy in the living room, poring over documents.
"Lord Roy, there's something I need to tell you."
"What is it? Go on."
She relayed everything—her encounter with Lun'ya, their conversation, the exact time she'd left, when she'd met him, when they'd parted. She held nothing back.
She feared her own ignorance might blind her to some trick of another magus, something that could bring trouble upon Roy.
"This… is troublesome," Roy said.
He wasn't angry. That alone made Utaha breathe easier.
But the word he'd chosen—"troublesome"—startled her.
It wasn't that she resented his answer. As a refugee, she had no right to resent him. Even if he'd refused outright, she'd have had no choice but to accept it.
It was just that, in the short time she'd lived here, she had come to think of the Aozaki family as near untouchable. Tohsaka Rin, the city mayor, was on close terms with them. The sisters in the family held important positions in the Mage's Association.
In her mind, there was very little in all of Fuyuki that the Aozaki family couldn't handle.
For Roy to call this "troublesome"… it completely upended her expectations.