Ren groaned as the sun hit his face like a Divine Punishment beam. His body ached like he'd been run over by a truck, set on fire, and then thrown off a cliff. Which, to be fair, wasn't too far off from what had actually happened.
He tried to sit up—and immediately regretted it. "Okay. Bad idea. Very bad idea."
From the corner of the room came a rustling sound. "You're awake," Jeanne said. She was sitting on the floor in the corner, arms crossed, still in her casual clothes—same black jacket, same black pants, same ever-present scowl that could turn flowers to ash.
Ren blinked. "Wait. You didn't go into spirit form?"
She clicked her tongue and looked away. "I can't. My spirit core hasn't fully stabilized yet after that dragon's flames. It's... frustrating."
"You mean you've been sitting there all night?"
"I had to make sure you didn't die in your sleep."
There was a pause. Then Ren, still in agony, managed a half-smile. "You care."
"No, I don't," she snapped far too quickly. "Don't be ridiculous."
Another beat of silence. Jeanne stood up, brushed imaginary dust off her pants, and nodded toward the door. "You should get ready. You have school, don't you?"
"…You're joking."
"Did you forget the war doesn't cancel the Japanese educational system?"
Ren groaned into his pillow. "I think my legs are still on strike."
Jeanne stepped closer. "Do you want me to carry you?"
"That feels like it'd hurt more than walking."
Jeanne gave him a long look. Then, without warning, she hoisted him up with one arm around his back and another under his knees like some sort of reverse bridal carry.
"Jeanne!" Ren yelped. "Put me down! This is so embarrassing!"
"You're lucky I'm not dragging you by the foot," she muttered, heading for the stairs. "Besides, you weigh nothing."
"I have dignity, you know!"
"It's not very heavy either."
They reached the bottom floor just as Shirou walked out of the kitchen wearing an apron, holding a ladle like it was a holy weapon.
"Oh, good morning, Ren. You're up early."
"I'm being kidnapped by a tsundere!"
Shirou blinked. "You want breakfast first or after you're done panicking?"
"Both."
Jeanne finally dropped Ren—gently—onto the living room couch and took a seat next to him with all the poise of a royal knight. "He needs food. Protein. Healing nutrients."
Shirou tilted his head. "So eggs?"
"Eggs will do," Jeanne said with grave seriousness. "Scrambled. With toast. Burned slightly. And tea. Strong tea."
"…Are you just ordering for yourself now?"
Ren sighed. "Please just give me painkillers and a reason not to drop out of life."
Jeanne looked at him, then down at the couch, then back at him again.
"What?" Ren asked.
She folded her arms and looked away. "...I may have accidentally set your school uniform on fire during the fight."
There was a silence.
Ren blinked. "How? You were fighting the other way!"
Jeanne's voice was very small. "...Collateral damage."
By the time breakfast was over, Ren felt only mostly like a half-dead corpse. Between Shirou's excellent cooking and some hastily-summoned painkillers, he could walk again—kind of. It was more of a limp-sway-hobble combo, but it got him from point A to point B.
Unfortunately, point B was school, and point A had Jeanne glued to his side like an overly armed, overly dramatic security escort.
"I told you, you can't come with me!" Ren hissed as he struggled into a slightly scorched school uniform Shirou had salvaged for him. "People will freak out if you show up dressed like that!"
"I'm not staying behind," Jeanne said flatly. She stood in front of the door, arms crossed, daring him to argue. "Your body is still fragile. If you get attacked again, you'll die. I am coming."
"You're supposed to dematerialize! Turn into glitter or mist or whatever it is you do!"
She folded her arms. "Still can't. Spirit core. Flames. Remember?"
"Can't you at least pretend to be a normal girl?!"
"…I don't know how to do that."
Ren dragged a hand down his face. "Of course you don't."
Shirou poked his head in. "You can always say she's your foreign cousin visiting from France."
Ren shot him a betrayed look. "Why is your first suggestion always a lie?!"
"It worked for Saber," Shirou replied cheerfully.
Jeanne raised an eyebrow. "Do I look like I belong in a Japanese high school?"
Ren turned to her.
Blue jacket, tight black pants, commanding aura, posture like she's about to lead a cavalry charge.
"…You could pass for a really scary student council president."
"Then that's what I'll be," Jeanne said, completely serious. "Your school is lucky to have me."
"That is not how undercover works!"
Still, there was no stopping her. By the time they left, Ren had accepted his fate. He just had one goal now: survive the day without Jeanne murdering someone for bumping into him.
---
At School – Homeroom
Ren stepped into class like a man walking to his own execution. Jeanne followed a step behind, glaring at every hallway like it owed her money. Students turned to stare immediately.
"Hey, Tsukihara—who's the girl?"
Ren coughed. "Uh… exchange student. From… uh… Paris."
Jeanne raised her chin. "I am Jeanne."
The girls blinked. The boys gawked. A few students immediately whispered something about her being a model or a pop star.
Ren tried to melt into his chair.
When the teacher arrived, Jeanne remained standing at the back of the room, arms behind her back, like she was guarding royalty. Half the class was too scared to ask why.
During roll call:
"Jeanne? Are you… actually on the list?"
"I'm auditing," she said smoothly. "For national hero studies."
Ren audibly groaned into his desk.
Jeanne, the self-proclaimed "Dragon Witch," was glaring daggers at the blackboard like it had personally insulted her. She sat stiffly in a borrowed uniform, arms crossed, radiating the exact opposite of blend in quietly.
Ren muttered without lifting his head, "For the love of everything holy, can you please just sit still?"
"This is your 'education'?" Jeanne said, voice low but intense. "What am I meant to learn from a teacher who speaks slower than a dying goat?"
Ren thumped his forehead against the desk.
From behind, a classmate leaned in and whispered, "Yo, Tsukihara… is she, like, your girlfriend?"
"Cousin?" another offered, amused.
Before Ren could deny it, Jeanne turned her head sharply. "I am neither. I am his Servant."
Ren sat up with alarm. "Not like that!"
The teacher glanced over, brows raised. "Tsukihara-kun? Something wrong?"
"No, sensei," Ren mumbled. "Just experiencing spiritual disassociation."
Jeanne gave a nod of approval. "He's fine."
The teacher hesitated, then returned to the lesson. Jeanne leaned over and whispered—not quietly—"Why lie? I am your Servant."
"Because you'll give me a heart attack," Ren hissed. "You're supposed to stay in spirit form!"
"I would," she said, eyes narrowing, "But this seems more fun."
Ren blinked. "Wait, is that why—?"
"Yes. You're welcome."
He gave up. There was no winning this.
---
Lunchtime. Courtyard.
Ren sat on a bench under a tree, hoping to reclaim a moment of normalcy. He had a modest bento. Peaceful weather. Quiet breeze.
Then Jeanne dropped beside him like a divine judgment in a skirt.
She unwrapped a tupperware box the size of a siege weapon. Inside was a perfectly roasted slab of meat.
Ren blinked. "Is that… wild boar?"
She nodded. "For stamina. You need protein after pushing your body past its limits."
"I was just gonna eat rice and grilled fish…"
"I'm aware. It's tragic." Jeanne sliced the meat with a knife far too ornate to be legal on school grounds. "Eat."
"Is this how French cuisine works?"
"No. This is Jeanne cuisine."
Ren gave up and accepted the meat.
Across the courtyard, a pair of girls whispered, "Wow… Tsukihara's really scoring. Is that his girlfriend?"
Jeanne caught it. "Girlfriend?" she repeated, glancing at Ren.
He immediately choked.
Ren pressed a hand to his face. "You're going to ruin my life."
10 minutes later—
Ren stretched with a groan, hands behind his head, as the sun filtered through the schoolyard trees. Jeanne trailed behind him, arms crossed, wearing a deeply unimpressed look as they rounded the corner of the building.
"You ate three helpings of rice and a quarter of my meat" she said flatly.
"I'm in recovery," Ren replied, trying to sound noble but mostly sounding like he might nap standing up. "My body needs fuel. Doctor's orders."
"You're not a doctor."
"My internal doctor says—"
"Your internal doctor also thought it was a good idea to try and walk off getting incinerated yesterday."
"That was tactical."
"You limped onto a couch and made whale noises for ten minutes."
Ren stopped walking and gave her a mock-glare. "You know, for someone who's supposed to be my Servant, you're weirdly enthusiastic about roasting me."
Jeanne turned away dramatically. "It's called character building. I'm helping you grow."
"Uh-huh. Pretty sure my spine compressed from carrying all that rice you made me eat."
She scoffed. "Please. You looked like you were ascending to another plane."
They reached the vending machines near the back entrance. Ren started digging in his pocket, only to find lint and disappointment.
"Out of yen," he muttered. "Tragic."
Jeanne stepped forward, looked over the options, and without breaking eye contact with him, kicked the side of the machine.
The machine shook. The can dropped. She picked it up.
And then opened it.
And then drank it.
Ren stared.
"I thought you were getting that for me."
"I did," she said. "And then I realized I was thirsty."
Ren blinked. "You're just mean."
"You're just slow."
The two stared at each other for a long second, until a student passing by tripped over his own feet looking at Jeanne. Ren and Jeanne both turned at the sound of his panicked stumbling.
Ren gave her a dry look. "You could at least wear less intimidating clothes when you're trying to blend in."
Jeanne, still sipping soda, raised an eyebrow. "What, this?" She gestured at her school uniform with a black cape around her neck.
"You've got an actual cape."
"It's a shawl."
"It's flowing. Things that flow are dramatic by default."
"Like your injuries?"
Ren clutched his chest like he'd been shot. "Low blow, Dragon Witch. Low blow."
Jeanne took another sip, clearly victorious.
As Ren sulked beside the vending machine, Jeanne finished her soda with the satisfaction of someone who knew she'd won a minor but important battle. Just as Ren opened his mouth to deliver one last, cutting remark involving soda tax and betrayal, a familiar voice cut through the courtyard.
"Well, well. Skipping class already, Tsukihara?"
Ren froze. Jeanne blinked.
They both turned to see Rin Tohsaka standing a few feet away, arms folded, eyebrow raised, and judgment levels set to "parent catching you sneaking in at 3 AM." Beside her stood Shirou, who looked more concerned than accusatory—his expression hovering somewhere between please don't start a fight and I'm too nice for this.
"Rin," Ren said, mustering his most casual tone. "Shirou. Fancy seeing you two."
"We saw you leave class fifteen minutes ago," Rin deadpanned. "Then we saw your Servant glare a vending machine into submission."
"She didn't glare it!" Ren protested. "She—okay no, that part's true."
Jeanne stepped forward with the poise of someone completely unaffected by social pressure. "It was a matter of thirst. Vital fluids were required."
Shirou blinked. "You mean… you were thirsty?"
"Yes," Jeanne said. "But dramatically."
Rin narrowed her eyes. "She's not supposed to be at school."
"She's not in class," Ren quickly said. "She's just… shadowing me. Like a weird, judgmental guardian angel."
Jeanne gave a short nod. "I prefer the term 'overseer of questionable decisions.'"
"See?" Ren gestured at her. "Total angel."
Shirou laughed awkwardly. "Well… at least you're feeling better."
"I wouldn't say better," Ren muttered. "More like… less collapsed."
Rin sighed and rubbed her temple. "This is why I said letting random people participate in the Grail War was a mistake."
Ren stiffened. "I'm not random! I did the summoning circle thing!"
"You drew it on your floor with chalk, didn't you?"
"…It was really good chalk."
Shirou, sensing the growing tension, quickly changed the subject. "You two heading back to class?"
"Eventually," Jeanne said, glancing up at the sky like she was contemplating divine intervention.
"We just got ambushed by the vending machine economy," Ren added.
Rin crossed her arms tighter. "Fine. Whatever. Just don't get caught. And don't draw attention."
As she and Shirou turned to leave, Jeanne leaned toward Ren and whispered, "Should we tell her you lit up like a bonfire yesterday?"
"No," Ren muttered, "let's let that be future Ren's problem."
From ahead, Rin's voice floated back: "I heard that."
"Future Ren is very sorry," Ren called.
Rooftop – Homurahara Academy AFTER SCHOOL
The wind rolled lazily across the rooftop, ruffling the hems of uniforms and tousling hair as the late afternoon sun dipped in the sky. Four figures stood in a loose circle atop the roof of Homurahara Academy—Ren, Jeanne, Rin, and Shirou—taking advantage of the rare moment of calm between the chaos of school life and the looming storm of the Holy Grail War.
"Hard to believe we were talking about math tests a week ago," Ren said, leaning against the chain-link fence that lined the rooftop. He let out a breath and glanced at the others. "Now it's Servants and strategy."
"You still owe me notes for that math test, by the way," Shirou added with a half-smile.
"I barely survived the last fight, and that's your concern?" Ren groaned.
"You're not getting out of math that easily," Rin said, arms folded, eyes sharp. "The Holy Grail War doesn't excuse poor academic performance. That said... we do need to figure out our next move."
Jeanne stood beside Ren, her expression thoughtful. "We've encountered one Servant so far, but we have no confirmed identity. She used flames and spoke in a way that suggests a personal fixation on Ren."
"Yeah. That was... definitely not a fan," Ren muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.
"She called you Anchin," Rin noted. "Do you have any idea what that means?"
Ren frowned. "I've never heard the name in my life. She kept insisting I was him."
Jeanne's eyes narrowed slightly. "Whoever she is, she was powerful. Her flames disrupted my spirit form—still lingering, by the way—and her Master had to use a Command Spell to retreat. That tells us they didn't expect the fight to last long."
Rin nodded. "That could mean she's a Berserker. That behavior fits."
"Great," Ren sighed. "Crazy strong and obsessed with me. Perfect combination."
Jeanne raised a brow. "You attract strange women, it seems."
"Hey—!"
Shirou laughed lightly, stepping in to keep things from veering too far into teasing. "Alright, so we're dealing with a Servant that may be a Berserker, and clearly not acting under full control. That makes her dangerous. But at least we know she's not operating alone."
"I don't think we can afford to keep fighting defensively," Jeanne said. "Eventually, someone more coordinated will come after us."
"I agree," Rin said. "We should start identifying Masters. And no, before anyone asks—we're not interrogating random classmates."
"I wasn't going to suggest that," Ren mumbled.
"You were thinking it," she shot back.
"...Maybe."
They lapsed into silence for a moment as the wind blew again, tousling Jeanne's hair. She brushed it behind her ear and turned to look over the city below.
"This war is more crowded than it should be," she said. "There's a strange density of mana signatures—more than just seven Servants."
"Yeah, I've noticed that too," Rin said, her tone shifting into something more serious. "Something's wrong with the Grail this time. There's interference."
"But we don't know where it's coming from yet," Shirou added. "No one's made a direct move on the others. It's like everyone's waiting."
"Or watching," Jeanne muttered.
Ren stayed quiet, watching the clouds shift above them. The weight of it all sat heavier on his shoulders today. He didn't have answers—just a target on his back and a sword at his side that wasn't always fast enough.
"You good?" Jeanne asked softly, nudging him with her elbow.
Ren blinked and gave a small nod. "Yeah. Just thinking."
"Well, stop that. You're going to give yourself an existential crisis," she said bluntly.
He smirked. "Thanks, Jeanne. Really reassuring."
"That's what I'm here for," she said with mock formality, placing a hand over her heart. "Support, sarcasm, and slaying."
Shirou chuckled again. Rin rolled her eyes.
"All jokes aside," Rin said, "we should meet again tomorrow after school. Same place. We'll start forming a proper search grid. The more we learn about the other Masters, the better prepared we'll be."
"Agreed," Jeanne said, straightening up. "And Ren—no wandering off alone again."
Ren held up his hands. "I got the message, alright?"
As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting the city in soft orange light, the four of them stayed on the roof a little longer, letting the tension of their duties settle into something more manageable—if only for a moment.
Later – On the Way to Shirou's House
The sun had dipped behind the horizon by the time Ren, Jeanne, Rin, and Shirou made it out the school gates. The last rays of orange were quickly fading into dusk as they walked down the quiet street, shadows stretching long beneath the streetlights.
"Next time, we bring snacks to the rooftop," Ren muttered, hands in his pockets. "Strategizing on an empty stomach is basically torture."
"You just ate lunch like 3 hours ago," Jeanne said flatly.
"I'm growing."
"You're suffering from 'boredom hunger.' That's not the same."
Ren groaned dramatically. "Unbelievable. I'm being targeted from all sides."
"Get used to it," Rin replied without looking back.
But as they rounded the corner near a quiet park, Jeanne suddenly froze mid-step.
Ren, almost bumping into her, looked up. "What's wrong—?"
She raised a hand to silence him, her gaze sharpening. "...Mana."
Rin's eyes narrowed. "I feel it too. It's dense."
They all turned toward the center of the park. The air was thick—charged—and the stillness was almost too perfect.
Out from the shadow of the trees stepped a figure in armor. Crimson and silver plate gleamed beneath the moonlight. A helmet obscured their face, but the confident stride and the massive sword resting across their shoulder made one thing clear.
A Servant.
Her presence radiated hostility, but they didn't speak. They simply stopped, watching them in silence, their head tilted ever so slightly to the side as if sizing them up.
Rin clenched her fist. "Definitely not one of ours."
"She's not attacking yet," Jeanne muttered, stepping forward protectively. "But she wants us to know she's here."
The armored Servant gave a low chuckle, the sound echoing behind their helmet. Then, without a word, they turned away—leaping onto a nearby rooftop in a blur of movement and vanishing into the night.
"What the hell was that?" Ren whispered.
"A warning," Jeanne said quietly, her hand still resting near her sword. "She wanted us to know we're being watched."
"We'll need to be ready for anything," Rin said. "She might just be testing us. Next time, it could be a real fight."
Ren exhaled slowly, feeling the tension in his chest. He turned to Jeanne.
She was still staring at the spot where the armored Servant had disappeared. Her voice was calm, but her hand remained close to her weapon.
"She was dangerous," Jeanne said. "No doubt about it."