Fate: Time and Punishment, Epilogue
OverMaster
Well worn.
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Emiya Shirou woke up with a start, on his back on the floor of his workshop, and with a broken toaster on his chest.
He jolted up to a sitting position and looked around the room, dawn's early light filtering through the window and delicately bathing the surroundings. "Oh... Oh, thank goodness, it was all a dream," he told himself. "It's a horrible cliche, but I can live with that."
He dusted himself off while standing up, setting the shattered toaster back on the work table. "I'll have to buy Sakura a spare and apologize," he told himself. "That's not so bad, it's funny how now I can see a lot of things with more perspective."
Whistling, he walked back into the house, pulled his shirt off, and marched towards the bathroom. "Man, I smell as if I'd really spent weeks without touching any soap," he yawned, pulling his pants down and shaking his head. "I wonder if--"
Then he heard someone else's voice, right in the bathroom, with him.
"Goddammit that liar! You never can count on him for anything!"
Shirou froze in place and saw a discarded suit of armor set on the floor by the toilet. A long pair of sharp honors protuded from the whole, attached to a helmet, and Shirou's forehead began pearling itself with copious droplets of sweat. Slow and reluctantly, his eyes wandered to the shower stall, its curtains wide open, and a buck naked young woman with blond hair facing away from him, struggling with the shower handle.
"Was it pulling, or pushing? Fuck, neither works!" she was grumbling to herself, Shirou's eyes nailed on her firm, perky bare posterior. "But if a moron like Lancelot could figure it out, so can I... Laaaaancelooooot!" she shouted. "Did you pull, or push?! No fucking water is coming out at all, asshole, you lied!"
She heard a loud thumping sound, and looked back to see Shirou, in nothing but his underwear, fainted on the bathroom's floor, his eyes turned into spirals and some blood leaking out of his nose.
The girl called out again. "Forget it, Lancelot! Shirou woke up already, I'll make him tell me!"
----
To be Continued?
He jolted up to a sitting position and looked around the room, dawn's early light filtering through the window and delicately bathing the surroundings. "Oh... Oh, thank goodness, it was all a dream," he told himself. "It's a horrible cliche, but I can live with that."
He dusted himself off while standing up, setting the shattered toaster back on the work table. "I'll have to buy Sakura a spare and apologize," he told himself. "That's not so bad, it's funny how now I can see a lot of things with more perspective."
Whistling, he walked back into the house, pulled his shirt off, and marched towards the bathroom. "Man, I smell as if I'd really spent weeks without touching any soap," he yawned, pulling his pants down and shaking his head. "I wonder if--"
Then he heard someone else's voice, right in the bathroom, with him.
"Goddammit that liar! You never can count on him for anything!"
Shirou froze in place and saw a discarded suit of armor set on the floor by the toilet. A long pair of sharp honors protuded from the whole, attached to a helmet, and Shirou's forehead began pearling itself with copious droplets of sweat. Slow and reluctantly, his eyes wandered to the shower stall, its curtains wide open, and a buck naked young woman with blond hair facing away from him, struggling with the shower handle.
"Was it pulling, or pushing? Fuck, neither works!" she was grumbling to herself, Shirou's eyes nailed on her firm, perky bare posterior. "But if a moron like Lancelot could figure it out, so can I... Laaaaancelooooot!" she shouted. "Did you pull, or push?! No fucking water is coming out at all, asshole, you lied!"
She heard a loud thumping sound, and looked back to see Shirou, in nothing but his underwear, fainted on the bathroom's floor, his eyes turned into spirals and some blood leaking out of his nose.
The girl called out again. "Forget it, Lancelot! Shirou woke up already, I'll make him tell me!"
----
To be Continued?