In that small apartment with smooth white walls, cloaked in a simplicity that carried a certain warmth, dim yellow lights cast a gentle, dancing glow upon the modestly arranged furniture. A low gray couch, a rectangular wooden table, and small shelves hanging from the walls... everything hinted that this place was accustomed to silence, as if it were a haven for a soul that preferred calm over noise, and serenity over chaos.
From the ceiling, a slightly tilted lamp swayed gently with the faint breeze stirred by a slowly rotating fan, causing the shadows to move like benign spirits dancing softly along the walls. The air was rich with familiar scents—a blend of dish soap, the aroma of freshly cooked food—perhaps warm soup or leftovers from a simple garlic-and-onion-rich meal—all mingling harmoniously within the narrow space without becoming stifling.
From the open kitchen connected to the living room came the sounds of daily life: the trickle of water washing away food remnants, the soft clink of glass dishes, the steady hum of the dishwasher, and the quiet thump of a cupboard door opening and closing. These sounds weren't disruptive—they were part of a familiar domestic rhythm, as though the apartment itself had its own heartbeat.
On the table in front of the couch sat a half-full cup of coffee, a thin ribbon of steam rising from it, suggesting someone had been sitting there just moments ago. Nearby were a few scattered old magazines and an open book, its page left unturned, as if the reader had been forced to leave suddenly.
Akira sat on the couch, his back relaxed and legs stretched out in front of him, watching an anime episode playing at low volume on the TV. His eyes were fixed on the screen, but his expression betrayed no real interest—his face was the picture of complete indifference, as if nothing on the screen mattered to him.
"By the way, I'm heading out soon." — he said suddenly in a quiet tone, glancing toward Yuri, who was still busy washing the dishes.
"Do you want to come with me?"
Yuri didn't hesitate for even a moment. She simply nodded, turned off the water, dried her hands with a small towel, and slipped off her white apron with a graceful feminine motion.
"Of course." — she replied warmly, not even bothering to ask where they were going.
Akira raised an eyebrow slightly and sighed as he lazily got up from the couch, saying:
"At least ask where we're going. Isn't it strange that you agreed so quickly?"
Yuri turned to him with a small smile playing on her lips, a meaningful glint in her violet eyes, and replied in a teasing tone:
"There's no need to ask… as long as I'm with you, I don't care where we go."
"You really are…" — Akira muttered as he looked away, surrendering to her eerie calm nature, before heading toward the hallway to put on his shoes.
"You've heard of the Holy Grail War, right?" — he asked in a low voice while bending to tie his shoelaces.
"You told me about it before. Isn't that the battle between seven Masters and seven Servants over a wish-granting cup?" — Yuri replied nonchalantly as she bent down to put on her elegant shoes, her curves moving slowly under Akira's gaze as if she was fully aware of what she was doing.
Akira didn't hide his gaze. His eyes roamed over her openly—he wasn't a saint, nor was he some monk ignoring a "meal" offered without resistance. Then he said in a low tone:
"Correct... and tonight, I'm going to take out one of the Masters."
Yuri finished with her shoes, stood up, brushed off her jacket, and walked toward him calmly.
"Then it'll be a fun night." — she said as she checked her reflection in the mirror by the door.
Akira slowly opened the door, letting in the cool night breeze carrying the city's scent: damp asphalt from a light rain, cigarette smoke from a nearby window, and the faint din of a life still awake outside.
"I wonder…" — he muttered with boredom as he stepped over the threshold — "From what I've seen, the Master isn't strong, but their Servant might surprise us."
"Can I take care of it?" — Yuri asked as she gently closed the door behind her and stretched a little — "It's been a while since I fought, and I feel a bit rusty."
"Do as you like." — Akira gave her a brief glance. Even though she radiated femininity now, he knew she was a battle junkie who loved messing around.
He pressed the elevator button, and it soon arrived. He was about to step in with Yuri when they were stopped by a familiar voice.
"Nifuji, ha~ where are you two going at this late hour?" — came the voice from behind, one very familiar to both of them.
[A/N: I'll be using Yuri's original name from now on—Ha Yuri Zahard.]
"Good evening, Hiratsuka-sensei." — Akira greeted the teacher assigned to accompany them in the student exchange program, who was holding a can of beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other.
Despite Shizuka's undeniable beauty, she was practically a textbook example of a "corrupted adult"—a fan of alcohol, smoking, shounen manga, and battle-centric fiction. This lifestyle dulled her allure somewhat, as she didn't exhibit traditionally feminine behavior.
Still, her presence was imposing—a strange mix of natural charm and hardened sarcasm gained from years of surviving in an unforgiving world. She wore a long open coat over simple clothes, her dark hair messy, and her eyes bearing a trace of chronic fatigue mixed with life's dry humor.
"It's past seven already, and you both know students aren't allowed out after seven, right?" — Shizuka said, staring at them with a hint of irritation — 'While I'm working, these two are going on a night date?'
It was obvious that thirty—no, twenty-nine years and twelve months of being single—had taken their toll on Shizuka. She was clearly a little jealous of her students going on a late-night outing.
"We're just going to buy ingredients for tomorrow's breakfast, and maybe a little dessert." — Yuri smiled softly. Although she and Akira were much older than Shizuka, legally they were now just 16-year-old students.
"I see. Do you need a ride?" — Shizuka nodded, the jealousy in her eyes fading and replaced by a smirking playfulness as she twirled her car keys — "A car's faster, you know."
"No need to worry, Hiratsuka-sensei." — Akira replied as he pulled out his own car key. He had a driver's license, and Shizuka knew that — "I do have a car, but we'd prefer a little walk. Walking after dinner is good for your health."
"Tch! Annoying brat." — Shizuka clicked her tongue in annoyance. It was obvious they were planning more than just a grocery run — "Fine, I won't bother you anymore."
She waved them off lazily as she returned to her apartment. The principal himself had told her not to restrict Akira and to let him do as he pleased. She had only stopped them out of curiosity, and in the end, she still didn't find out where they were headed.
'Let all the normies explode.' — Shizuka grumbled in frustration as she returned to her apartment to continue her fighting game. She was close to reaching legendary rank and had only taken a short break.
'As expected, video games are the best.'
...
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