The food truck, now turned outdoor restaurant with wooden tables and chairs set around a square lot, was beneath Erina's taste in style, but she digressed. Regardless of her opinion, she had the distinct feeling that it didn't matter when she was being constantly monitored by people, she suspected were Yakuza. They kept their distance from her, but she could feel the intensity of their eyes boring down on her.

Did they really think that she'd come only to cause trouble? This was clearly what they were implying with their actions, and for once in Erina's life, she figured it was best not to share her opinion of the restaurant's lay out. She narrowed her gaze and glanced around with a critical eye.

Sloppily arranged as the seating arrangements were, the homely feel and enjoyment on the faces of the full crowd of customers created a welcoming atmosphere. In this aspect, its surpassed Erina's general standards. Subsequently, a fleeting bout of depression assailed her when she realized just how bitter the atmosphere made her.

She was Erina Nakiri of the God Tongue. All restaurants and diners she'd ever graced her presence with were top class to the point that strict dress codes were implemented. Although there was a certain appeal to dining in high society, for Erina, it was often lonely and tense. There was no welcoming or comforting air. Instead, there was only trepidation for what faults Erina could find in a served dish.

Erina was well known for her harsh criticisms and most restaurants quailed at the sight of her. The thought made her straighten her back, put aside her feelings, and assume a haughtier appearance. She had an image to maintain.

Regardless, she'd already blundered. Realizing that she'd been standing in a single spot for so long that the Yakuza's expressions were beginning to harden, Erina pursed her lips, deflated her ego, and hastily made her way forward before she was accosted.

Erina shivered while finding herself a seat and waiting. All the while, she found it strangely unsettling that not a single waiter had come to ask her for her order yet despite several minutes of waiting. She incessantly tapped her index finger on her table's surface and finally decided to take matters into her own hands after another ten minutes.

Erina raised a hand to call the attention of a waiter, but grew flustered when everyone seated on the nearby tables turned to stare at her funny.

Common sense returned to Erina's mind a second later, and she hurriedly lowered her hand. Of course, there were no waiters. She was trying food from a food truck. Evidently, Erina had been too agitated by the presence of the Yakuza that she'd fallen into old dining habits where she was constantly served by others wishing to please her.

The sheer mortification was mind shattering when even the Yakuza looked like they were feeling bad for her.

She was not sheltered. She was normal. It was their fault for pressuring her.

She huffed looking entirely spoiled and causing the Yakuza themselves to reconsider whether or not she'd come to cause trouble or if she was just a natural snob. Regardless, Erina was no longer paying attention to them. Instead, she'd gotten up to place an order.

Glancing back and forth, Erina balked when she noticed just how long the line was. It stretched all the way down the street before looping back at some orange pylons.

This was going to take all day. Was this really worth it?

Suddenly, she began to feel the stares of the Yakuza again and soon made her way to the back of the line. Like she expected, several hours passed before she finally reached the counter of the food truck. By then, she had become both irritable and short-fused. She looked exactly like the foreigner frowning and glowering in line as if they were VIPs.

Erina was a VIP. Any restaurant should be honoured to have her dine inside.

The moment Erina saw the listed prices on the menu that the cashiers named Rina and Luvia handed her, she went catatonic.

What kind of fraudulent prices were these? This was robbery! Moreover, people were still buying it?

Erina grew incredulous, and couldn't help but wish to lash out at the smug face Rin and Luvia were making, the money grubbers.

Not wanting to waste a single second looking at the two cashiers any further, Erina directly pulled out a wad of cash from her purse, huffed indignantly, and payed the required amount. No sooner than she did, the cashier named Rin gestured her along with a shooing gesture in order to help the next person.

The nerve of this woman.

Regardless, Erina still moved on and stranded on the side waiting for Shirou to make her order. Meanwhile, she couldn't help but notice the glutton taking up an entire table to eat. One look was all that it took to stun Erina into silence. Beauty, grace, and bearings were all carefully packed into a single woman, and yet, the woman's stomach was the most fearsome. There was an entire stack of plates beside the blond-haired woman wearing a white blouse and long blue-skirt.

Erina could have watched the woman eat in fascination for several minutes more if not for her order of omurice being called.

She bit into the food, and suddenly her expression sharpened, her brows furrowing and cheeks bulging as she chewed.

It was good. It was really good.

But how did Shirou do it?

Erina's eyes narrowed. The food truck's open window provided a clear view of the kitchen and Erina had discreetly watched Shirou prepare his ingredients from the moment that she'd ordered. They were plain and simple with nothing out of the ordinary. This meant to say that he'd created something so flavourful through skill alone.

Clearly, Shirou was more talented than she'd assumed, and Erina was beginning to feel guilty for failing him on impulse during Totsuki's selection process.

This Shokugeki was definitely going to be harder than she had assumed, but there was a more pressing thought in her mind.

Why there so many Western Cosplayers out today?

All of them had the same growing hatred for Rin and Luvia like Erina.

Something odd was happening in the Clock Tower, and Lorelei Barthomeloi could hardly be bothered until there were reports that Zelretch seemed to have some form of involvement.

Of course, he did.

Lorelei was a dignified woman who exemplified the meaning of authority as a member of House Barthomeloi. She was the Queen of the Clock Tower and possessed strength to rival that of even the strongest Dead-Apostle Ancestors. It took a lot to get under her skin and annoy her, but Zelretch was the one acquaintance who never failed to do so. Anything with his hands in the matter was bound to be head ache.

Lorelei thinned her lips and absently tapped her riding crop onto the palm of her left hand as she considered how big of a hassle it was going to be to get any information from Zelretch. Just thinking about the damage control was enough to rile her when she had better things to do with her time.

Her riding crop settled over her left palm before Lorelei made up her mind. Placing the riding crop onto her desk in one of the Clock Tower's Central Offices she'd commandeered for her Workshop, she stood up onto her feet.

Lorelei wore a tailored white dove-tailed coat held together by a red ribbon over her bosom. She looked like a horse rider, maroon breeches with knee-high riding boots completing her image. Meanwhile, her brown hair was fashioned into a pony tail settled behind her back which emphasised her sharp and authoritative facial features.

Should she call upon Lord El-Melloi the Second to investigate? Lorelei had heard talks among the other Lords of the Clock Tower of El-Melloi creating some sort of case-file organization. Regardless, something had to be done.

Members of the branch families of prominent members of the Clock Tower were going missing along with a fortune's worth of lucrative funds pilfered from family vaults and storage. Ordinarily, most Magi wouldn't particularly care for the disappearance and behaviour of lower-class individuals, but intrigue was only rising after Patrick from the Owel family returned to demand money from his father. The father was confused but soon ended up giving Patrick as much money as he needed with a fervent passion. Rumour in the Clock Tower said that Patrick's magecraft had taken a considerable leap forward and money was the method to further increase it.

If the rumour was true, then it was no wonder Lorelei had been hearing similar cases of no-name magi asking for their family's life savings. The pursuit of the Akashic Root was all that mattered for a magus while money was only secondary.

Lorelei began to walk past her desk and towards a little center table she had placed in front of a small recliner.

Zelretch was the most eccentric person that she knew of, but even Lorelei was momentarily confused when a simple platter of food was the only explanation about his actions that Zelretch had given her. She'd sent a letter to the man earlier in the week to explain the situation, and only now was he replying.

Grumbling in distaste, she seated herself on her recliner and stared evenly at the platter of food Zelretch had had delivered to her. It was a shortcake with a cut strawberry on top. Icing was glazed on the side and it looked fairly appetizing compared to what most cooks in the Clock Tower could create. Then again, it was learning institute, not a restaurant. So long as a magus could continue their research, then food, even tasteless, didn't matter.

Lorelei generally wasn't one for sweets, but clearly, Zelretch had not sent her a cake in order for to stare at. If it was something Zelretch sent, then it must have been out of the ordinary.

She picked fork up with one hand, and a knife with the other before stabbing the fork into the cake, and cutting off a small piece. She wasn't worried if it was poisoned or enchanted with magic because eccentric as Zelretch was, he knew better than to start a conflict with her without reason.

Slowly, cautiously, Lorelei raised the piece of cake and took a bite.

The Clock Tower would never be the same again.

The day drew to its close as the sun began to set within Totsuki Academy's distant horizon. Light from the moon peaking out above the clouds illuminated the now vacant lot of the food truck set up near Tostuki Academy's main gates. Different from the food truck's main lot, Erina noted that many customers still lingered around the perimeter wishing to buy food. However, the 'Closed' sign placed at the front of the food truck meant that no more food was being cooked.

Erina herself was included in the crowd of lingering customers, but it wasn't because of the allure of food. It was for another reason entirely that only someone like her would have trouble with.

As the last customer finally left, and the kitchen light inside the food truck shut off for the night, Erina readied herself for an opportunity.

She spotted Shirou exit the food cart on his own in order to make his way back to the Villa he'd been assigned to live within. The money crazed cashiers of the restaurant weren't with him, and neither was the glutton who'd been pigging out on food with a grace and elegance that had even Erina doing a double-take. Perfect.

Erina recalled that the cashiers were named Rin and Luvia, and she could picture them too caught up in counting their laundered money to realize Shirou had left. As for the glutton, no not glutton; Erina quickly changed the designation in her mind to Noble Lady.

The Noble Lady was nowhere to be seen, and Erina didn't have the time to worry about it either. Shirou was getting away.

Taking in a breath, Erina clapped her hands to her cheeks and quickly fashioned the aloof Nakiri indifference on her face.

Erina followed Shirou on instinct, mostly out of a need to apologize for her earlier treatment of him. Despite her cold and cavalier disposition, inwardly she was incredibly soft-hearted and innocent to the point where she would send out her aide on 'official-business' to procure the good stuff; namely, different types of manga ranging from action, supernatural, and romance.

The point was, Erina knew right from wrong, and the only hindering aspect of herself was her pride in her own self image. Since when could 'Erina Nakiri' ever apologize in public? It was too difficult a feat for Erina to pull off, so she'd opted to wait until she could get Shirou alone in order to approach him without breaking her image.

Of course, the fact that she'd even approached Shirou to apologize was already crossing the line in her mind, but she didn't realize it in her haste.

Shirou walked fast, almost at a jogging pace and Erina was not used to trials of endurance. Her breaths were quickly becoming shallow while a flush was working its way up her neck. She wanted to curse at him if not for the fact that thinking was taking too much energy.

Now, the obvious solution to the present predicament was for Erina to just call ahead and announce her presence, but no; she was bull-headed and had a different strategy in mind.

It would not be her trying to talk to him, it would be him trying to talk to her after coincidently running into each other.

Yes. This scenario should work perfectly.

In order to not get caught by Shirou, Erina had been ducking behind random trees, buildings, or anything to escape Shirou's line of sight. To enact her plan, she had to somehow get ahead of him, but she quickly realized that she didn't have the athletic ability to do so.

She digressed into a bout of mundane thoughts that could be considered as first-world problems. She was sweating by this point and was already considering a late-night shower before sleeping to wash the smell away. She would also have to brush herself thoroughly with a comb. The twigs and leaves she'd inadvertently snagged up in her hair during her attempts to keep hidden had formed knots.

This was going to take hours to fix. She may have to call in a maid or maybe Hisako to help?

Wait, focus! Erina shook her head and looked ahead of her to realize that she'd lost sight of Shirou in her musing.

NOOOO!

No longer caring if she was hidden or not, she stepped out into the open in order to look for Shirou. She'd already come this far now, and she didn't want to have had wasted her time for nothing.

Still, no matter how hard Erina glared while her eyes darted left and right, she could not spot hide nor hair of Shirou. All things considered, there was only a single path Erina knew of back to the Villa…and it was a straight line through the woods! There was no way Shirou could have just disappeared even if she was a bit inattentive.

Her inner self was raging at this point, figuratively kicking at the ground, stubbing her piggy toe, and then writhing in pain.

Why was nothing going right today?

Miffed at herself, Erina could only sigh in defeat before turning around and making her way back to her dorm. She'd ended up trailing after Shirou half-way through the forest path, and by the time she returned to the entrance where the food truck could be seen a distance away, she was panting.

Since when did a chef need to exercise? With the back of her left hand, she wiped away the sweat that had formed over her brow. Her legs were jelly, her feet aching to the point she suspected that she had developed blisters. This was why it was easier to have other people at her beck and call. She wasn't used to this excess manual labour.

It was nearing 10 p.m. and the skies were beginning to twinkle with the light of distant stars. The lot in front of the food truck should have been entirely empty at this point, but as odd as it seemed, Erina spotted a pair of questionable individuals lingering by the food truck.

At any other point, Erina would have just reported the man and woman in front of her for soliciting in front of the food truck, ergo the property of Tostuki Academy, but this time was different. She couldn't quite make it out, but she swore that she saw the man produce a spout of flame from his hand.

Erina reasoned that the man was using a plain lighter, but the size of the torch-like fire was too big.

What were those two doing?

Erina's curiosity had been roused. Moreover, she had a misguided sense of untouchability. She was famous not only as the God Tongue, but as the Granddaughter of Totsuki Academy's Headmaster. No one sane would dare to touch her.

Yakuza were the only exception in Erina's mind since they didn't abide by common laws, but the man and woman ahead of her appeared to be of the dignified sort: The man wore a dress shirt and matching pants while the woman wore an elegant dress. Besides, Erina just wanted to verify if what she'd seen was actually real.

There was no such thing as a man who could spontaneously create fire with his barehand.

A curious glint in her eyes, Erina began to shadow the two individuals who moved away from the food truck's vicinity and towards a secluded area surrounded by a forest.

"I said hand it over woman!" The man yelled as Erina got within earshot. The man was fuming, slicked-back brown hair in disarray. "We split the bill from the food truck, so we both get half!"

Erina raised a brow. They were fighting over food from the food truck? It was the most bizarre thing Erina had experienced all day. Couldn't the two just wait until tomorrow or look for another restaurant to eat at?

"Sorry," the woman looked miles away from apologetic. A hand was resting over her chin with her fingers slightly covering her mouth. She appeared entirely condescending as she tilted her chin upward and threw back her black hair behind a shoulder. "I'm not exactly going to throw it up now, am I?"

"You bitch! You ate it all?" The man glowered, green in the face. "If our families weren't in an alliance, I'd kill you."

The woman's gaze sharpened. "As if you ever could," she sneered. "Neither of us can be considered strong for magi. We're third-rates, but against each other, my craft is clearly stronger."

Craft? Was this some kind of event from the Western Cosplayers? Erina felt like she finally understood what was happening. What she'd seen was just a prop. To be fair, she had been a certain distance away.

Assuming that she'd seen enough, Erina turned to leave, but froze as a torrent of flame enveloped the entirety of the man's left arm no props involved. How could she tell? Well, the clothes of the man's left arm burned off to reveal his bare skin which remained unblemished despite the heat in the fire.

"Say that again," the man glowered at the woman.

In response, the woman merely smiled before a four-foot tall featureless wooden puppet manifested next to her. Said puppet was floating in the air with no strings attached.

Erina was thoroughly floored, and in her wonder, she made the mistake of giving her position away. She gasped, her right foot snapping a twig beneath her.

"Well, that's unfortunate," the woman said without a hint of sympathy while turning her neck to stare directly at Erina like a pest.

The man shook his head before smothering his flames and crossing his arms. "This is your fault," the man said to the woman. "You fix it."

The woman grunted before willing for a compartment on her puppet's chest to open. The edges of a bladed ring were revealed much to Erina's growing unease.

"W-Wait hold, on what are you doing?" Erina tried to remain calm and level-headed, but only silence answered her question.

Wind began to pick up, the chill causing goosebumps to form over Erina's skin.

"Nothing personal."

What did they mean nothing personal? Was this some kind of joke because this wasn't funny!

"Do you know who I am!?" Erina hastily called out. Whatever weapon was stored inside the floating puppet, it clearly wasn't a prop. "I'm Erina Nak-"

Her words died in her throat as metal streaked through the air accompanied by a whizzing noise. It was too fast to see, but survival instinct set her body in motion.

Erina hastily dodged, jumping to the side and rolling onto her butt; however, the stinging sensation on her left arm indicated that whatever the puppet had launched at her had grazed her.

Erina looked down to her left hand, noticed the blood trickling between her fingers down from her forearm, and suddenly began hyperventilating when the man and woman stared coldly at her.

"N-No get away!" Erina began crawling backwards, strength leaving her legs as fear paralyzed her and left her a wreck of her former self. There was no arrogance, no pride, or haughtiness to be seen. Dirt clung onto her clothes, and the branches of the bush she'd been hiding behind scratched all over her skin, forming red lashes.

"At least die with dignity," the man scoffed while the woman opened another compartment from her puppet to reveal a long sword which the puppet equipped. Different from before, the woman had no intention of sending a projectile.

There would no longer be any dodging, and Erina knew it.

Erina began sobbing. She was going to die.

"Nothing personal," the woman repeated again before sending her puppet flying forward.

Leaves suddenly rustled, a bout of wind blowing with the force of a storm.

All Erina could see was the puppet coming closer and closer.

Help! Anyone!

She didn't even have the means to scream, her muscles constricting in her throat in her despair as single thought appeared in her mind.

She just wanted to be normal.

She said mean things even when she didn't mean to, and she often acted cold towards others despite just wanting to be friends. Her childhood had not been a pleasant one, and it had shaped her into what she was today.

Memories of being locked in a room to be used for father's personal gain appeared in her mind. Even her Grandfather had been helpless through it all, leaving her utterly alone without any source of aid.

It was like she was trapped, and unable to change anything with her own power. Her current predicament was much the same.

So, please, just this once- Someone help!

She shut her eyes as the puppet stabbed forward with its long sword just as the clang of steel resounded.

Realizing that she wasn't feeling any pain, Erina glanced up to see a European sword impaling the puppet to a nearby tree. An instant later, and a protective figure appeared in front of her.

Erina didn't care who it was. Like a startled lamb, she desperately just wanted something, anything to cling onto for support.

The hand that rested on Erina's shoulder in order to comfort her led to a familiar face.

Shirou Yukihira.

The steel in his eyes was murderous, but he still looked at Erina with a gentleness that sought to calm her down. He mouthed discreetly towards her in stark warning.

'Play. Along. Stay. Quiet.'

Erina swallowed audibly and carefully nodded her head.

"She is my apprentice," Shirou said to the man and woman much to Erina's confusion. "I've been training her in culinary craft, and if you both had killed her, it's your own loss. What's one chef compared to two?"

The admission caused the man and woman to balk while staring at the fury in Shirou's gaze.

The woman apprehensively stared at Shirou as if she was looking at Shirou for the first time. Thinking about it, Erina realized that Shirou must have been the one to hurl a European long sword hard enough to impale into a tree.

"You're more of a magus than I'd assumed," the man said grudgingly while the woman busied herself with getting her puppet out of the tree.

Shirou didn't care for banter.

Erina didn't know what Shirou did, but she felt several objects hanging above her that instantly caused the man and woman to tense. Erina tried to stare up, but one look from Shirou forced her to keep her eyes on the ground.

"You've seen enough," Erina heard Shirou whisper into her ear. "Don't incriminate yourself further."

Glaring at the man and woman, Shirou stepped forward threateningly. "Neither of you have the need to act, so you best get going before I decide not to cook for either of you anymore," he warned.

As far as threats went, Erina was dumbfounded that such a threat even seemed to work, much less comprehend why the man and woman revealed panic on their faces.

"Well, this is awkward," the woman smiled stiffly.

The man was more straightforward. "I apologize for the misunderstanding. We were only following procedures." With his word said, the man hastily left.

Erina didn't know it, but Shirou threatening to cut their food supply was threatening their future growth. Rather than anger Shirou further, the man quickly left. The woman followed awkwardly a moment later after grabbing her puppet.

Left alone, Shirou's shoulders sagged as he clapped a hand to his forehead. "Why is it always me?" He asked as if Erina wasn't around to hear him.

"Y-You!" Erina pointed while trying to maintain a strong front and failing. She was trembling, her complexion pale as tears trickled down her cheeks. "W-What is going on?"

Shirou looked like he'd swallowed a fly, but grudgingly, he began explaining what he could.

The only real thought in Erina's mind as Shirou listed terms she couldn't possibly know about a moonlit world was simple; she'd read enough of them to understand.

Manga was real.

Thanks for reading!

Next Update: Fate in Time

P a treon. com (slash) Parcasious

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