Reborn in Type-Moon: Starting by Adopting Sakura - Chapter 34

In her bedroom, Sakura tugged the curtains closed and hit the power button on the desktop computer.

The thing wheezed to life with that familiar fan noise, and the screen flickered on to show blue skies, white clouds, and some generic grassy field wallpaper.

She climbed up into the desk chair, which was way too big for her. First she got her knees up on the edge, then kind of hauled herself up onto the seat with both hands.

Once she was settled in and turned around properly, her legs in their white socks just hung there, swinging back and forth under her skirt.

She grabbed the mouse and started clicking around. This was the early '90s—the internet was still this new, weird thing that most people didn't really understand yet. Everything looked terrible and took forever to load, but it was like having a secret door to the rest of the world.

Anyone who actually knew how to use a computer back then was basically a genius. Setting up your own server or running a little forum was considered incredibly advanced stuff.

Sakura had managed to sneak her way into one of these forums and had been picking up all kinds of interesting information.

"What kind of girls do boys like most?"

"How do you know if your older sister made you drink bitter melon juice on purpose?"

"Should girls learn boxing for self-defense?"

"Men love novelty and excitement."

She scrolled through a bunch of different threads and even posted a few questions herself.

But after reading through all of it... honestly, none of it seemed particularly helpful.

Life just kept going in the same boring pattern. And this afternoon's bitter melon juice had tomato mixed in—which somehow made it twice as awful.

Was Manaka-nee in a bad mood again? Sakura let out a quiet sigh. Maybe she should actually learn how to cook for real.

That way, she could make something nice for onii-sama to try... and also maybe avoid having to choke down whatever weird concoction Manaka-nee came up with every single day.

It wasn't like anyone was holding her down and forcing her to drink the stuff.

But...

Last week, Sakura had pretended to have a stomachache so she could politely turn down Manaka-nee's "thoughtful gesture."

Manaka had just looked at her with this sweet, gentle smile.

All warm and cheerful—but somehow absolutely terrifying.

Like she could see right through every lie Sakura had ever told.

Still, Manaka-nee really was a good person.

Beautiful and kind.

Like a flower covered in morning dew. Like some kind of fairy dancing across a lake.

Just being around her made Sakura want to be better.—She kept telling herself that. Over and over.

But forget about Manaka-nee for a second. The really intimidating one was Artoria-nee.

Sakura glanced at Artoria-nee's chest, then looked down at her own completely flat one.

Was eating more the secret to getting like that?

Could she ever... reach those kinds of heights?

From what she'd read online, guys seemed to prefer women who were a little more... developed.

Ah, so that's probably why Manaka-nee's always cranky.

No, wait. That's not right.

Manaka-nee is a good person. Really kind.

She glanced over at the TV. That morning news report had mentioned Fuyuki, and now she couldn't stop thinking about her mother and sister. She missed them so much it made her chest hurt sometimes.

But before she'd come to Tokyo, her father had told her she needed to cut all ties with the Tohsaka family. She still didn't understand why. Had all those smiles and kind words he'd given her over the years been fake?

Still, life in Tokyo was pretty amazing—all because of onii-sama.

Cool, brilliant, incredible onii-sama.

There were only two things that bothered her.

First, programming was ridiculously hard. She had no idea when she'd actually be good enough to keep the promise she'd made to him.

Second, Manaka-nee sometimes made food that was just... revolting. And Sakura was starting to suspect it might be on purpose.

There she went again, thinking mean things about Manaka-nee. That wasn't fair. Manaka-nee was kind and beautiful.

Sakura gave her cheeks a little pat, scrolled through the forum for a few more minutes, then pulled a programming book off the shelf and cracked it open.

…

At Asakusa Temple, Yuu had already committed every scripture he needed to memory. And when he said memorized, he meant it—he could create a blank mental page and perfectly imprint whatever he was looking at onto it, just through his senses alone. He called this ability “Item Record”.

For someone working in archaeological magecraft, it was incredibly handy.

Archaeology wasn't just about digging up old artifacts—it meant drowning in research, cross-referencing endless amounts of data, trying to build a complete picture from scattered pieces of information.

Because of Item Record, Yuu had told them he'd only need seven days at Asakusa.

If he'd had to actually read through all those scriptures the normal way, seven years wouldn't have been enough.

Even though the scanning part was finished, Irisviel was still playing the devoted secretary role. The silver-haired Einzbern beauty had chosen a sharp tailored suit today—collar open, white shirt and tie that somehow managed to highlight her impressive figure.

The fitted pants hugged her hips in this perfect curve, and her long legs looked amazing in those sheer black stockings. Her silver hair fell down her back like spun moonlight, and when she walked over to him, it was like she'd brought a little piece of winter into Tokyo's sweltering summer.

She gave him one of those sweet smiles. "So boss, where are we going today?"

That smile... for just a second, Yuu’s brain blanked.

…

A few days had passed, and once again Irisviel looked every inch the professional office worker. Compared to her usual flowing dresses, this fitted suit had its own kind of appeal. If it wasn't for the King of Knights sitting in the living room quietly demolishing another slice of cake, Yuu might have completely forgotten that Iri was supposed to be gearing up for the Holy Grail War.

Nobody knew exactly when the war would start, but based on the estimates—probably sometime this winter. As for today, he didn't really have anything pressing. Taking a break every now and then was perfectly reasonable.

"Let’s go to Ueno Park."

Obviously Iri wasn't driving—that would be a disaster waiting to happen. Though maybe, if he was feeling particularly reckless, he'd let her try some late-night drifting down Mt. Akina.

Ueno Park, Shinobazu Pond.

The place had this nice mix of old-world atmosphere and peaceful nature. It was famous for the lotus flowers, and every summer the outdoor concert stage by the water came alive with performances that somehow blended perfectly with the scenery.

Massive trees ringed the pond, their branches heavy and green. A walking path made of worn stone followed the water's curve.

Today the park was nearly deserted. Just them and the occasional serious jogger in expensive gear.

They walked along the stone path that hugged the pond's edge, dappled sunlight filtering down through the canopy above. Every so often, a breeze would rustle the leaves and send shadows dancing across the ground.

"Mr. Yuu," Iri said, tilting her head so the breeze caught her silver hair, "don't you have work today?"

"Work-life balance. It's good to get out and walk around sometimes."

"So... are we on a date?" Her red eyes lit up, almost teasing.

"A date." Yuu smiled back. "Yeah, I'd say so."

That wouldn’t be inaccurate.

"If I'd known, I wouldn't have worn this..." She glanced down at her business outfit.

"You don't have to wear it if you don't want to."

"No way." She laughed. "A secretary should look professional. Besides—you like me in this, don't you?"

She was practically glowing at him. The sunlight hit her face just right, making her look even more stunning than usual.

"You do look incredible," he said, meaning every word.

"Do you say that to every girl?" Irisviel's cheeks went pink all of a sudden. She started walking faster, hands clasped behind her back, those black stockings making quick little steps ahead of him.

"No. Look at me—you can tell when someone's lying."

"I'm not looking!" She kept walking ahead, feet skipping as if she were trying not to laugh.

They kept walking like that for a while. The quiet between them felt comfortable and warm.