Fate Grand Order: Broadcasting Master Love — Chapter 45

Chapter 45: Arjuna Suffers Social Death

Mash’s eyes flew wide open, her grip on her heavy shield slipping for a fraction of a second. “Even though he’s a Science-course—!?”

Da Vinci covered her mouth, her eyes curving into amused crescents as a melodic, marveling laugh escaped her lips. “Does he even act tsundere at critical moments—!?”

Emiya dragged a heavy hand down his face, the corners of his mouth twitching violently. “Science and Engineering upperclassman…!?”

Fujimaru Ritsuka pointed an accusatory finger at the pristine white garments draped over Arjuna, a look of deep realization washing over his face. “Is it because you’re wearing white?”

A faint, uncharacteristic flush crept up Arjuna’s dark cheeks. He turned his face away sharply, his voice tight with defensive heat. “…No. It wasn’t decided for such a half-hearted reason…” A heavy pause followed, his imposing presence shrinking as he mumbled into his collar. “Actually, maybe it was…”

Inside the Servant lounge of New Chaldea, the real Arjuna felt as though his very soul had been violently extracted from his body. Every ounce of strength drained from his limbs. He slowly closed his eyes, his hands hanging limply at his sides, and let out a long, hollow sigh of absolute despair.

“…As expected, that Counterfeit is… no longer human. Can someone please put him out of his misery?”

He kept his eyes firmly shut, refusing to look at the surrounding Servants. He could already feel the burning weight of their stares, easily imagining the colorful, highly amused expressions plastered across their faces after witnessing that humiliating broadcast.

Back on the light screen, Mash managed to regain a fraction of her composure. She turned her curious gaze toward the archer standing beside the mortified upperclassman. “Then… what about Mr. Arash…?”

Arash’s eyes lit up like a sparkler. He clapped his hands together, a bright, mysterious grin stretching across his face as he eagerly leaned forward. “Oh, me? Don’t be surprised when you hear it. It’s a really good one!”

He struck a confident pose. “I’m the older Liberal Arts childhood friend living next door!”

Da Vinci’s eyes widened to comical proportions. “Living next door—!?”

Mash slapped both hands over her mouth. “Older Liberal Arts—!?”

Emiya’s mouth twitched again, his stoic facade crumbling under the sheer absurdity of it all. He massaged his temples. “Childhood friend…!”

Basking in the dramatic reactions, Arash raised his chin proudly and casually dropped another bombshell. “By the way, Siegfried is the straightforward idol who just happens to sit in the next seat in class.”

Ritsuka practically jumped out of his skin, throwing his hands up in a state of utter collapse. “In class—!?”

“…That is quite enough.” Emiya finally cut through the echoing chorus of the Chaldea group, his patience completely exhausted. He pinched the bridge of his nose, his voice dripping with tired resignation. “In short, you were created as Counterfeit Heroic Spirits and assigned these ridiculous roles.”

He lifted his gaze to the two archers on the screen, his steely eyes narrowing as he listed off the names. “Alexander, Hector, Siegfried, Arash, and Arjuna.”

Emiya’s sharp gaze swept between Arash and Arjuna, his tone carrying the heavy clarity of a man who had seen through the core of the farce. “To soothe the Master in various forms and pour love upon them. That is the sole duty for which you were summoned.”

Meanwhile, in New Chaldea, warm sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows of the Jeanne-type Servant activity room, casting colorful, mottled patches of light across the polished floor. Jalter Santa Lily stood off to the side, her arms crossed firmly over her chest. Her cheeks were puffed out in a childish pout, her golden eyes practically glowing with undisguised contempt.

She shot a sideways glare at the adult Jalter sitting nearby, her voice dripping with deep disappointment. “The grown-up version of me is really something. Summoning so many Counterfeit Servants and even changing their settings just to shower yourself with love… are you really that starved for affection?”

Jalter choked on her own breath. She whipped her head away, her gloved fingers unconsciously picking at the delicate lace edge of her dark skirt. The tips of her ears burned a bright, furious red as she stammered out a defense, her usual venom replaced by a pathetic grievance. “I-I was having a hard time back then, alright…! I thought they only obeyed me on the surface while actually looking down on me behind my back…”

On the broadcast, Da Vinci smoothly picked up the thread of the conversation. She stood with one hand resting on her hip, the other tapping her chin thoughtfully. A mischievous spark danced in her eyes. “But for the sake of a funding source, or perhaps for other, far more personal purposes, this Master has laid hands on my Counterfeits.”

Arash scratched the back of his head and offered a sheepish, booming laugh, trying to brush off the heavy implications. “Well… although the finer details are slightly different, that’s basically the situation.”

Arjuna’s brow furrowed into a sharp V. He reached out, his dark fingers lightly catching Arash’s arm. His eyes flashed with strict disapproval. “Arash, this situation should be denied.”

Arash waved his free hand dismissively, his face still plastered with that unbreakable, sunny smile. He clapped Arjuna on the shoulder with enough force to make the other archer wince. “It’s fine. The duties you and I must fulfill were decided long ago.”

He looked back at the Chaldea group. “Our Master had already made this mental preparation when they decided to create the Counterfeits.”

Arjuna scowled, shaking his head with stubborn persistence. “I do not think so.”

He stepped forward, his posture rigid and authoritative. “Whether they decide to seek out the Counterfeits or leave them be, the restoration of the Human Order Foundation is their highest priority.” His voice dropped an octave, connecting with deep, commanding power. His gaze sharpened into a deadly arrow, locking onto the Chaldea party. “There is absolutely no need to resolve an anomaly that hasn’t even reached the level of a Singularity.”

Turning his attention directly to Ritsuka, Arjuna offered a slight, measured nod. The hostility vanished, replaced by the cool sincerity of a seasoned negotiator. “Master, are you willing to make a deal with us?”

He gestured to the open space between them. “The difference in strength is clear at a glance. We will not attack you. In exchange, we hope you will also withdraw quietly.” A brief pause hung in the air before he added, “I do not think this is a bad deal.”

Mash tightened her grip on the massive handle of her shield. She turned her head slightly, her amethyst eyes locking onto Ritsuka. They were filled with absolute trust and quiet inquiry. “…Master.”

Emiya shifted his stance, his eyes fixed on the young magus. He smoothed out his expression, his voice steady and offering an indisputable pillar of support. “Ritsuka, the decision is yours. We will follow your instructions.”

Da Vinci let out a soft, theatrical sigh. She raised a hand to rub her brow, a fleeting shadow of disappointment crossing her beautiful features. “…Well… is this the best we can do? Although it’s a terrible pity that my Counterfeits are circulating in the market…”

She dropped her hand, offering a gentle smile. “But if it puts Ritsuka in danger because of it, we’d be putting the cart before the horse.”

Sitting miles away behind the glowing monitors of the control console, Dr. Roman pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He offered a slow, serious nod of agreement. “…That’s right.”