"Lia, one, two, three... Cheese!"
"Mmm... Cheese."
Dressed in shorts, a hoodie, and a baseball cap, Artoria held an ice cream cone. She stuck out her tongue for a tentative lick. The flavor, something that hadn't existed 1,500 years ago, sent a shiver through her, and her expression soured in rejection.
But after two more bites, then three—driven by her principle of never wasting food—her face lit up with happiness. She offered the cone, its patterned swirls now licked smooth, to Guinevere.
And Guinevere? She appeared as she had at sixteen, wearing a light blue long dress, her silver-white hair tied back in a single ponytail.
After taking the photo and putting away her phone, she obediently walked to Artoria's side. She took hold of the hand holding the cone and, in full view of everyone, licked the same spot Artoria had.
"Wow, look at those super cute foreign girls being so close..."
Because they both looked like fifteen or sixteen-year-old girls, and their actions were typical of close friends, most passersby assumed they were just best friends.
And so, someone decided to try hitting on them...
And so, someone saw Guinevere lean down, bringing their lips to the same level. Then, with a smile, she flauntingly licked away the lingering sweetness from the corner of her companion's mouth.
The sounds of breaking hearts, indignant mutters, and even the whimpers of those whose eyes were opened to a whole new world filled the air.
In response to all this, Guinevere stood tall and proud. If anyone dared to say something truly offensive within her earshot, she would discreetly use her Second Noble Phantasm, Curse, to afflict them with foul breath for a very long time.
"Guinevere, isn't this a bit..."
"Lia, do you think this little lesson is too light?"
Artoria fell silent, her gaze filled with helpless resignation as she looked at her increasingly ostentatious partner.
^
In her eyes, it seemed Guinevere wanted to declare to the entire world that they were lovers.
Outwardly, Artoria resisted. When Guinevere leaned in for another kiss, she pushed her away, permitting only that they share the same ice cream cone.
"Feeling shy, Lia?"
"Aren't you shy at all? You bastard, Guinevere!"
"Hehe, you certainly weren't shy yesterday after you had too much to drink."
Fuyuki City was quite peaceful during the day. Today, they didn't encounter the wandering King of Conquerors or the King of Heroes.
From the distant Einzbern Castle, a message came through their Master-Servant contract: Irisviel, Maiya, and Kiritsugu all wanted to enjoy a final moment of warmth before the decisive battle.
If anything unexpected happened, Irisviel would use her last Command Spell immediately.
"In that case, Guinevere, should I go have a drink first?"
They walked hand in hand, drawing stares from everyone they passed. When they neared a tavern, Guinevere pulled the speaking Artoria away.
But when they passed a Chinese restaurant with a familiar name, Guinevere led her inside to eat.
They didn't run into Kirei Kotomine there. They ordered a plate of mapo tofu, but both could only manage a single bite.
"Please pack this up and deliver it to the Holy Church for Kirei Kotomine. I'll pay you triple the price."
It was a sort of test, a way to see if Kirei was at the Holy Church. Even if Kirei suspected something, he wouldn't make trouble for a familiar delivery person from the restaurant.
After arranging this, he and Artoria left the restaurant. The two of them then walked to the gates of Homurahara Academy in Fuyuki. Since it was a weekday, all they could hear were the clear sounds of students reading aloud and see children in gym uniforms running laps on the athletic field.
It was there, at the school gate, that someone called out to them:
"Which class are you from? Afternoon classes are almost over, why are you still loitering outside?"
The question was prompted by their youthful appearance, the fact that the security guard was new, and because Homurahara was the only middle school in all of Fuyuki.
"We're not students," he replied with a smile. "We're just tourists."
They continued walking away from the school, hand in hand. Today, Miss Artoria seemed a little envious of the lives of modern children.
"I suppose so. After all, my Lia was trained to be a King from a young age and pulled the Sword in the Stone at just fifteen. You must have wished you could grow up like a normal girl, right?
"How about it? After the Holy Grail War ends, should we find a school to attend together?"
Artoria fell silent, not answering immediately, as if deep in thought. She recalled the Knight Academy Guinevere had founded—its system was remarkably similar to a modern school.
She looked up, their eyes meeting. If only Guinevere could see the future, she thought wistfully.
Then, under the watchful eyes of the growing crowd, Artoria rose onto her tiptoes and lightly pecked Guinevere on the cheek.
She took a few light steps back, then turned with a smile, her hands clasped behind her back. In that moment, Guinevere truly saw the image of an ordinary teenage girl in her.
It felt like a bullet to the heart. Guinevere instinctively pressed a hand to her chest. The soft touch brought her back to her senses. She considered public displays of affection a form of showing off, but being so flustered that she had to check her own heartbeat? That was utterly mortifying.
"Hey, what was that sudden attack for?" Guinevere demanded, closing the distance in two quick strides and grabbing Artoria's hand. She leaned in and whispered into her ear.
Should she remain silent? Or should she respond?
Artoria chose the former.
Her silence only made Guinevere puff out her cheeks in frustration. She leaned closer and nibbled lightly on Artoria's earlobe.
"Ngh—Are you going to talk or not?!"
A jolt like an electric shock shot through Artoria, followed by a wave of embarrassment. More and more people were gathering to watch. Even students on the sports field had stopped their activities, leaning against the fence to stare in their direction.
"Guinevere, that's enough! I'm really getting angry."
Her voice was low, devoid of any joking tone.
Guinevere straightened up, pressing close to Artoria's side. "If only I still had a Command Spell right now!" she muttered.
Her face was pale with a hint of helplessness. Guinevere had invited Artoria out under the pretext of scouting a location for tonight's battle against the King of Conquerors and determining if the Holy Grail could manifest somewhere other than Mount Enzou.
"Fine, I'll tell you," Artoria finally relented. "I just thought you were too familiar with the modern era. The reforms you implemented in Camelot had too many modern influences. It made me wonder... if you were a Guinevere who had won a previous Holy Grail War."
Guinevere's smile froze. It wasn't surprising that the girl before her could recognize the modern elements in her reforms.
Should I tell her? she wondered. Should I reveal that I'm just an ordinary transmigrator?
"I really can only see a single future timeline!" Guinevere insisted. "And after everything—meeting you, dying with you, holding your hand right now—does it truly matter what I've hidden?"
The warmth from her hand was real. Her connection with Guinevere, their time together—all of it was real.
Besides, Artoria hadn't wanted to pry into these hidden secrets in the first place.
"Guinevere, that was just my theory. You were the one who insisted on pressing me. But, since we're on the topic..."
Hand in hand, they walked into a deserted alley. Artoria smiled softly and said, "I'll wait for the day you tell me the truth yourself."
Deep breaths, deep breaths. Guinevere gazed at Artoria, who was now smiling like a completely ordinary girl.
She still couldn't bring herself to say it. If she did, she had no idea how to explain how she knew the "future" concerning Camelot and the Holy Grail War.
All she knew was that the girl before her was her one and only reality.
"Lia, I love you!"
"Guinevere, I love you too!"
Under the setting sun, their shadows stretched long. Watched by countless eyes, they unknowingly fed "dog food" to people they couldn't even imagine were observing.