As Shirō scrubbed the last plate clean, Archer leaned casually against the kitchen counter, watching her with an air of mild curiosity. "So," he said, his voice calm but probing, "if you were to win the Grail, what would your wish be?"
Shirō paused, the damp plate in her hands catching the light. She frowned thoughtfully. "Probably… to go back to my old self," she admitted, her voice quiet. She set the plate aside and picked up another, her hands moving mechanically. "But… more than that, I'd want to know the truth about the incident from ten years ago."
Archer raised an eyebrow, feigning ignorance. "Incident? What incident?"
Shirō glanced at him, her expression a mix of curiosity and melancholy. "The Fuyuki Fire. Ten years ago, a huge fire broke out in this city, and so many people died. I… I was one of the survivors." She hesitated, the memory clearly painful. "But I don't remember much about it. Just flames everywhere, screams… and someone pulling me out of the wreckage. I want to know why it happened. What caused it?"
"I see…" Archer muttered, his tone carefully neutral. Inside, however, he felt a pang of guilt. Of course, he knew what she was talking about. After all, he had been there. His past self—now standing before him as Saber—had witnessed it all firsthand. But this wasn't the time to reveal that.
Shirō looked at him curiously. "What about you, Archer? Do you have a wish?"
He smirked, leaning back against the counter. "Nope. I died peacefully, with all my dreams fulfilled. No regrets whatsoever."
"Oh." Shirō's lips curved into a small smile. "That's… really nice. I'm glad."
Archer chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You're way too kind for your own good, Saber."
Shirō tilted her head, puzzled by his comment, but said nothing.
After a moment of silence, Archer's smirk grew a little wider. "By the way, you should know that Rin's a tsundere."
Shirō blinked. "A… tsundere?"
"Yeah, you know, all tough and bossy on the outside, but deep down, she's just a softy with a crush," Archer explained, a teasing edge to his tone. "If you want her to take you seriously—or, heck, maybe even grant you a wish—you'd better impress her. Who knows? She might actually like you enough to make it happen."
Shirō's cheeks flushed slightly. "R-really? You think so?"
Archer shrugged, his grin mischievous. "I'm just saying, it wouldn't hurt to try."
Shirō looked away, focusing on drying the dishes, but a faint smile tugged at her lips. "I'll… think about it."
Archer chuckled again, folding his arms. "You do that, Saber. You do that."