If Shirō had just crossed over into this world, fresh from modern life, unspoiled by noble luxuries, and carrying that reckless bravado of a calf unafraid of tigers, he might have marched off to Hueco Mundo like a typical novel protagonist—full of fire and ambition.
But things were different now. As the saying goes, it's easy to go from frugality to luxury, but hard to return the other way. Shirō had been pampered far too long, softened by comfort and dulled by idleness. More importantly, he was painfully weak. To suddenly abandon this cushy life and step into Hueco Mundo—where death lurked around every corner and hollows might eat him alive—was unthinkable.
Even in those purely wish-fulfillment novels, the hero only ventures into danger after gaining some kind of special ability. Or they arrive already blessed with cheat powers, never truly at risk of dying. Shirō, on the other hand, had lived here for years without discovering a single abnormal gift—handsome looks aside, his talent didn't seem remarkable at all.
He was, in short, more ordinary than ordinary. And while he carried the perspective of two lives, his combined age was still under thirty. Having lived both times in relatively safe societies, his confusion and fear were perfectly natural.
"Emiya Shirō! Is Emiya Shirō here?!" The voice outside grew impatient, followed by heavy footsteps barging into the house. No one in the Emiya family dared block the way.
"My lord, what brings you here all of a sudden?" Father greeted the intruder with a strained smile, pretending ignorance.
"Emiya Shirō is your son? Call him out!" the man barked.
"Could you… make an exception, perhaps?" Father asked cautiously.
"Exception?" The man narrowed his eyes.
"Yes, my son is still very young. Perhaps-"
"Are you kidding me? I don't care how young he is. Bring him out now. I'm in a hurry!"
Father's face darkened. With no other choice, he stepped aside. "Then… please, come in."
The man strode into the room, spotting Shirō clinging to his mother. "You're Emiya Shirō? Good. You're coming with me."
Shirō instinctively shrank further into his mother's arms. This could be the end—life and death parting. And he wasn't afraid of separation. He was afraid of dying.
"My lord, I beg you! Spare him—he's just a child!" Mother fell to her knees, sobbing.
"What is with you people? Crying and making a scene—do you have any idea how ridiculous this looks? This is a good thing! Don't you understand?!" The man stomped his foot, exasperated.
"…A good thing?!" The entire family froze.
Hadn't they been preparing for exile or execution? Could this actually be a chance?
Father was the first to recover, his voice trembling with hope. "Forgive me, my lord, but… why exactly are you taking my son?"
"You mean you don't know? Truly? Then why all this wailing?" The man looked at them as if they were mad.
"Aha… perhaps there's been some misunderstanding," Father said awkwardly.
The man sighed. "What good fortune you people have. The young lady herself has named this boy to be her study companion."
"What?!" The three of them gaped, pinching themselves to make sure it wasn't a dream. From looming doom to sudden blessing—this was the very definition of a turn of fate.
"Please, my lord, sit down! I'll brew some tea right away!" Mother was suddenly beaming as she fussed over their guest. Shirō could only marvel—women really did change faces faster than turning a page.
Father wasn't far behind. "And may I ask where my lord serves? Strange we've not met you before?" His smile was now equally polished.
The sudden shift left their visitor baffled. Not knowing the panic they'd suffered moments ago, he could only shake his head at this eccentric family. "I'm the princess's steward. I carry her commands. No need for tea. I'll be taking Emiya Shirō with me now."
"So soon? At least let him change into something more formal—" Mother fussed.
"No need. The young lady is waiting."
"Very well." Mother crouched and straightened Shirō's clothes, whispering in his ear, "This is an opportunity. Don't waste it."
Shirō blinked. What opportunity? Surely she didn't mean… to court Yoruichi? He doubted his mother's mind had leapt that far ahead. Forget the engagement he already had, the sheer gap in status alone made such a thought absurd. Yoruichi was already a grown woman, and he—well, he was still just a little boy.
Father came over too, resting a heavy hand on his shoulder. "Remember what I told you today. Speak cautiously, act carefully. Don't stir up trouble again."
Shirō pouted inwardly. One told him to seize the chance, the other told him to stay invisible. Which was it? Ah, whatever—he'd just improvise.
As he followed the steward toward the door, Mother called after him, "Son, do your best!"
Father gave him a look of silent encouragement.
Shirō squirmed with embarrassment. Just moments ago, they'd been wailing like he was going off to die. Now they looked like proud parents sending him to the academy. The whiplash was enough to make him shiver. Somehow, it felt even more unsettling than exile to Hueco Mundo.
He shook his head quickly. No, no—he was overthinking. He wasn't going to his death. He was going to keep the princess company while she studied. In other words, he was going to play with her. That was a dream posting! He was worrying for nothing.
The Shihōin estate lay at the very heart of the noble district. Concentric rings of vassal families surrounded it, radiating influence outward like ripples. The closer to the center, the higher the rank.
For Shirō, who had never set foot outside his own walls, this first real outing was dazzling. He craned his neck at everything, wide-eyed with curiosity and excitement. Luckily, he was still a child—nobody mocked his gawking. On the contrary, once they saw he was personally escorted by the princess's steward, people glanced his way with awe and envy.
They knew what this meant: barring disaster, the boy's future was boundless.
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150 P.S = 1 Extra Chapter