The day passed like any other at the factory. The clang of hammers, the rhythm of measured footsteps, and the scent of iron filled the air. Shirou had grown used to the grind. It wasn't exciting, but it was familiar. Strangely enough, he didn't mind the extra workload today. In fact, it gave him something to focus on—a distraction from the swirling thoughts in his head about everything that had happened since arriving in this world.
His coworkers seemed to notice his diligence. A few of them even clapped him on the back during breaks or offered a thumbs-up across the forge floor. One guy even joked that Shirou was a one-man army, given how much he'd done alone.
To his surprise, they finished the day's work earlier than usual. Shirou wiped the sweat off his brow, stretching his arms behind his head with a satisfied sigh. Darwin, the gruff but fair owner, handed him his pay for the day, along with a firm pat on the back.
"You're getting better with the rhythm," Darwin said with a rare smile. "Today you did nearly half the workload. Not bad at all."
"Thanks," Shirou replied casually, though inwardly he felt a flicker of pride.
Instead of heading straight back to the inn, Shirou took a small detour. He found himself once again at Welbern, the luxurious restaurant he had once visited with Amelia. Despite its name, the place was known for its gourmet dishes and elegant atmosphere. He wasn't there for nostalgia—it was the food. The taste still lingered in his memory, and tonight he felt like treating himself.
He chose a seat by the window this time too. The golden lanterns hanging above gave the room a soft glow. Outside, the sky was tinted with the last hues of sunset.
He ordered one of the dishes that Miss Flora had recommended to him before. He figured if anyone knew good food, it was her. Sure enough, the meal was exquisite—tender meat, rich sauce, and just the right blend of spices. Shirou leaned back, patting his stomach.
"Flora really knows her stuff," he muttered with a smirk.
After finishing his meal, he returned to the inn—but as always, not through the front door. Climbing through the window had become his unofficial entrance. Miss Flora had long since given up protesting.
The next day passed quietly. The calm before the storm. The whole town buzzed in anticipation of the grand festival. Decorations bloomed across the streets like flowers. Vendors prepared their stalls. Musicians tuned their instruments. It was as if the town had transformed overnight into a different place—colourful, lively, and full of magic.
And then, at last, the day of the festival arrived.
Shirou stood in front of the mirror, brushing his black hair back with one hand while adjusting the collar of his freshly bought suit with the other. The deep navy blue suit fit snugly against his frame, with a silver thread running subtly along the edges, catching the light with every movement. His undershirt was crisp white, the cuffs neatly folded, and the black trousers matched perfectly with his polished boots. A black ribbon held his hair in a short tie at the back, while the front strands fell messily across his forehead. His sword, Ashbringer, remained tucked safely in his inventory. This wasn't a night for battle—it was a night for celebration.
"All done," he said, admiring the reflection one last time.
Then, with a practised motion, he unlatched the window and leapt out.
His destination –Amelia's house.
After all, he had promised to pick her up.
Just as he reached the gates, the door to her home opened—and out walked Amelia.
Shirou froze for a second.
Amelia wore a flowing lavender dress with delicate silver embroidery along the sleeves and hem. The dress clung gently to her form and swayed lightly with the breeze. Her pink hair was styled in soft curls, tied on one side with a violet ribbon, and a thin crystal necklace glimmered faintly at her neck. She looked like someone out of a noble's ball—not that Shirou would ever say that out loud.
"Shit… I wanted to come early," Shirou muttered, realizing he'd lost his chance to knock dramatically at her door.
"Heey, Aleena!" he called out, voice teasing.
She turned toward him and rolled her eyes. "Ha ha, really funny."
"Yeah, I know. Must be my innate ability," he grinned.
"Too bad you didn't get a good one," she shot back.
"At least I have one," he countered, hands in pockets.
"Who says I don't?" she replied, raising an eyebrow.
"You have an innate ability?" Shirou's curiosity kicked in "I didn't know that."
"Well, some people like me are just born talented," she said, tossing her hair back playfully.
"What's your ability then?" he asked, curiosity rising. It wasn't every day you met someone else with a unique ability. He'd heard of strange and powerful ones—teleportation, shadow clones. "C'mon, don't keep me hanging."
But Amelia only grinned. "I ain't telling you."
"Seriously? Why?"
"Because it's my best weapon," she replied with a wink. "I can't just show it off. What if you're some assassin sent to kill me?"
"Why the hell would anyone want to kill you?"
"Because I'm stunningly beautiful," she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder dramatically. "My beauty might just be my curse."
Shirou laughed. "Oh, I think I know what your ability is."
"Oh? Do tell."
"Delusion. Or maybe hallucinations. Or both."
She gasped. "You're just mad that your only ability is stacking boxes!"
"Hey, it's a powerful art form," he said proudly.
They continued their banter as they strolled through the cobbled streets. Lanterns lit the way, and the air smelled of roasted meat, spices, and sugar.
"Hey," Shirou said after a moment. "The festival."
"Oh yeah! I almost forgot," Amelia suddenly perked up. "Main event at the town centre. Still got about two hours though."
"Two hours till the main event? That's pretty long."
"There's plenty to see before that. This must be your first time, right? Let's make the most of it," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "After all… who knows? You might not live long enough to see the next one."
Shirou stared at her, dumbfounded. "The hell is that supposed to mean?"
Amelia shrugged playfully. "Just saying. Life's unpredictable."
With a cocky flick of his hand, he brushed his hair back. "There's no force in Nytherra that can kill me. Wanna know why?"
"Oh, please do enlighten me."
"Because I'm destined for greatness."
Amelia snorted. "Look who's delusional now."
"Just you wait. One day, my name will be whispered across continents. I'll be a legend. Might as well get my autograph now while it's still free."Well, Shirou actually believed what he just said.
"Nah, I'm good," she said dryly, completely ignoring him.
They continued walking through the festival streets. It truly was something out of a dream—banners fluttered above, magicians performed small tricks for children, and stalls sold everything from trinkets to magical trinkets. It felt like the entire town had come alive.
Amelia pointed at a game booth. "Let's see if you've got actual skills, Mr. Protagonist."
She challenged him to a ring toss game—and he won, easily landing three rings in a row.
"I await my praise," he said with mock pride.
"Wow," she said flatly. "Your true calling is… carnival games. What a noble destiny."
"This girl…" he muttered, shaking his head.
The banter continued, playful and relentless. At one point, Shirou had to admit to himself that he was losing—in the art of verbal mockery, Amelia was a master.
As they turned the corner, a familiar street came into view.
A grin curled on Shirou's lips."The inn"
"Hey," he said, turning to Amelia, "I just remembered something. There's something I need to pick up from my room. Mind if we stop by the inn real quick?"
Amelia raised an eyebrow, smirking. "You inviting me to your room already?"
He tapped her on the shoulder. "You flatter me. But actually, there's someone you should meet. Trust me—you'll like her."
"Oh? Who?"
"The inn's owner. Miss Flora. Very nice lady. Once you talk to her, you'll never forget her. That's the kind of person she is."
"Is that so? Then to the inn, we go."
They entered the inn together, the door creaking slightly as they stepped inside. Miss Flora looked up from the counter and immediately grinned.
"Shirou, who's the pretty lady? Let me guess—"
"Don't guess," Shirou said quickly. "Amelia, this is Miss Flora. Why don't you two talk? I'll go grab my stuff."
"Okay," Amelia said, already smiling.
As Shirou climbed the stairs, a sudden sense of warmth bloomed in his chest.
"Why do I feel so good all of a sudden…" he murmured.