Kanjuro brought Tohsaka Aoi back to their temporary residence.
Inside the room, the lights were dim and yellow, and the atmosphere was quiet.
Aoi snuggled submissively in Kanjuro's embrace, feeling the warmth and powerful heartbeat from his chest.
Kanjuro rarely bent down, pressing his ear close to her slightly bulging lower abdomen, listening intently.
"You're pregnant, right?" His voice carried a rare, hard-to-discern emotion.
"Yes..." Aoi's face turned slightly red as she softly agreed. "Then... will the child's name still be the same as in... in 'that future'?" she asked cautiously.
Kanjuro straightened up with a light laugh, his fingers brushing through her hair. "Tohsaka Tokiomi is already dead, so that surname has naturally become a thing of the past. However, for the child's name, just use your surname 'zenjou'."
"Why not your surname?" Aoi looked up, her eyes filled with curiosity and confusion.
Kanjuro's expression returned to its usual indifference, his tone calm yet carrying a certain unsettling depth: "Because I cannot let them know who their biological father really is."
"Could it be you..." Aoi's face instantly turned even redder. She immediately grasped the implicit, almost perverted intention in Kanjuro's words, and her heart couldn't help but race.
"What? You don't approve?" Kanjuro raised an eyebrow, his tone carrying his characteristic arrogance.
Aoi was silent for a moment, her voice pleading: "I... I only hope that you won't do anything too excessive to the future Sakura and Rin... after all, they are..."
"Hmm?" Kanjuro smiled playfully, his fingertips tracing her cheek.
"Don't worry, I won't. After all, they are my 'precious ones.' I can't even dote on them enough."
He deliberately emphasized the word "dote," the meaning of which made Aoi shudder.
"I know what you mean by 'dote'..."
Aoi gathered her courage, looked him in the eye, and said seriously, "But I don't want you to treat our daughters with violence. They should... they should grow up in a normal environment."
"What if," Kanjuro's voice suddenly turned cold, carrying a hint of danger, "I insist on doing so?"
Tohsaka Aoi's body froze slightly. She locked eyes with Kanjuro for a long time, and finally, as if all her strength had been drained, she slowly shook her head, her voice barely audible: "Then... I have no objection.
After all... at least you haven't hurt me, you protected me, and you changed my future... I... I don't believe you would do anything truly cruel to our common daughter..."
Kanjuro burst into a laugh, short and hollow, containing no clear emotion. He didn't respond further to Tohsaka Aoi's complex statement. In the next moment, he transformed into a cold and ruthless "collider," beginning a series of irresistible, unilateral "operations" on Tohsaka Aoi, as if to crush all needless emotional entanglements in this pure physiological dominance.
The next day, sunlight streamed through the large floor-to-ceiling windows, spilling onto the room's expensive carpet.
Kanjuro leaned lazily against the comfortable back of his chair, head down, holding a thin folder and browsing through it intently.
On either side of him, the Morimoto sisters, Morimoto Leona and Morimoto Reina, were "performing" in their own unique way, trying their best to use various clever "tricks" to attract their master's attention and favor.
Kanjuro enjoyed this feeling of being surrounded and in absolute control. As he felt their service, his gaze never left the document. He frowned slightly and whispered a name: "Hmm... Maiya Hisau... It's hard to find this person, isn't it?"
"Although it is indeed hard to find and cost us a lot of manpower and resources,"
Morimoto Leona temporarily stopped her movements and pointed to a large electronic screen on one side of the room, which was displaying complex maps and information flows analyzed by the computer.
"However, we have at least locked on that the target character is currently active in a slum in a war-torn area. The specific location is..." Her fingertip precisely pointed to a small island on the map that was enlarged and marked with a red sign.
Kanjuro looked at the location, and a satisfied curve finally appeared at the corner of his mouth. He closed the folder and commanded succinctly: "Very well. Prepare a helicopter for me."
"Is!" Morimoto Leona immediately complied, acting swiftly.
Shortly after, Kanjuro sat alone in the roaring helicopter cabin, looking out through the porthole at the land getting closer and closer below.
It was a country located in a remote corner of the world, ravaged by war, and his destination was an inconspicuous island in this region.
The helicopter landed. Kanjuro stepped onto this barren land.
What met his eyes were continuous dilapidated shacks, mountains of garbage, and an atmosphere of despair permeating the air.
His gaze soon locked onto a target—a thin girl who was numbly rummaging through a foul-smelling garbage heap for anything that might fill her stomach.
There was no look of pity or sympathy on Kanjuro's face, as if he were observing an experimental subject unrelated to himself; he was merely lost in some deep contemplation.
Maiya Hisau... a female character from Fate/Zero.
According to the "plot" he knew, at this age, she would soon encounter the most cruel violation by a group of soldiers.
Looking at her, she was probably only fourteen or fifteen now; that tragedy obviously hadn't happened yet.
Kanjuro quickly reined in all outward emotions, putting on a gentle and hypocritical mask. He disguised himself as a kind-hearted traveler passing by and walked slowly toward the muddy, ragged girl.
Walking up to her, Kanjuro crouched down and met her wary and blank gaze.
He reached out, and at some point, a still-warm bun appeared in his hand. His tone was as soft as a warm breeze: "Hungry, aren't you? It's been a long time since you've had a good meal."
"...Thank you." The girl—Maiya—hesitated for a moment but ultimately couldn't resist the temptation of food. She cautiously took the bun and then almost wolfed it down in one bite, chewing vigorously.
Her parched lips regained some color from the nourishment of the food, and on her dirty little face, a pure and real smile overflowing with happiness bloomed for once, even if this happiness was so insignificant.
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