Shirō's eyes snapped open.
She was lying in her futon.
In her room.
Sunlight streamed through the window, soft and familiar. The air smelled of home—wood, paper, the distant scent of tea.
Her fingers curled into the fabric of her sheets, grounding herself. Her body still ached, her wounds still faintly pulsing with dull pain, but she was alive.
She was back.
Yet the dream—
The memory—
Still clung to her like an unshakable ghost.
Shirō ran a hand down her abdomen, fingers brushing over smooth, unbroken skin. The wound was gone. The pain lingered faintly, a ghost of what had been, but she was intact.
She exhaled, shaking off the weight pressing on her chest. Dwelling on it wouldn't help. What mattered was that she was here.
Alive.
She stood, pushing back the futon and stretching out her stiff muscles. Her wedding dress was still draped over her like some kind of macabre reminder. Yeah, she needed to get out of this thing.
Digging through the modest wardrobe in the corner of her room, she found the clothes she had bought just a few days ago—nothing fancy, just a plain white T-shirt and jeans. Simple. Comfortable. Normal.
That was what she needed right now.
Once changed, she stepped out of her room, following the familiar scent of tea wafting through the house. The living room was bathed in soft morning light, and there, lounging on the couch with one leg crossed over the other, flipping through a magazine like she had all the time in the world—
Rin.
Shirō tilted her head. "You had breakfast yet?"
Silence.
Rin didn't even look at her.
Okay. That was weird.
Shrugging, Shirō turned toward the small attached kitchen—
Only to be violently grabbed by the shoulders and shaken like a damn maraca.
"Don't ACT LIKE NOTHING HAPPENED!" Rin snapped, her grip vice-like.
Shirō blinked, dazed. "Uh, I guess I'm alive? That's a win, right?"
"THE FACT IS YOU ALMOST DIED, YOU IDIOT!" Rin kept shaking. "AND I HAD TO USE MY EXPENSIVE GEMS TO HEAL YOU!"
"Eh, sorry?" Shirō offered weakly, feeling like a ragdoll in her grip.
"That isn't enough!" Rin huffed, finally releasing her before dramatically flipping her hair over her shoulder. "You're indebted to me, so as compensation—become my Servant."
Shirō stared. "…Aren't you being a little too obvious, Tohsaka? You just want me as your Servant."
"Well, yeah! But that's not the entire point!" Rin crossed her arms, scowling. "We had to strike a deal with Lancer to save you! Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?! Not to mention you beat Archer like a damn dog—"
"I'm actually proud of that."
"—thus," Rin pushed forward, ignoring the remark, "you are indebted to me."
Shirō exhaled through her nose. "Fine. I'll continue working with you, but not as a Servant. I'm an independent citizen of Japan, after all."
Rin growled.
Before she could argue further, a familiar voice cut in.
"Coffee," Archer said, materializing into the room with a bored expression. "With extra sugar. And cheese bread."
Shirō frowned at him. "I thought Heroic Spirits didn't need food."
"We don't."
"Then why—"
"Just do it, Saber," he glared, arms crossed.
Shirō sighed. He was still mad at her.