The day before the official start of the Holy Grail War.
While Su Mo, from the Saber team, was assisting Sakura in her summoning ritual, the other Masters had already begun moving toward Fuyuki City, the battleground of the upcoming war.
Well, most of them had.
Only one Master seemed unhurried enough to wait until the last possible moment to arrive—coming in on the final day like it was a casual vacation.
That was the Master from one of the three founding families: the Einzbern household.
Irisviel von Einzbern, the artificial homunculus. She arrived by plane.
With long white hair and ruby-red eyes, the woman looked like a perfectly crafted porcelain doll—beautiful and otherworldly. Though she appeared to be seventeen or eighteen, she was in truth only nine years old, having been created as an artificial being.
Seeing her alone, one might assume she was a noblewoman, or someone of high pedigree.
And under normal circumstances, someone might have tried to approach her.
But those thoughts died instantly the moment people noticed the presence beside her.
A second girl—just as striking—was seated next to her. She looked even younger, only about ten years old, with the same snow-white hair and deep crimson eyes.
They looked unmistakably related, sisters perhaps, or… a very young mother and daughter pair.
"Wow! Mommy is that Fuyuki City down there?" the younger girl exclaimed, eyes sparkling as she pressed against the plane window.
"That's where Daddy is, right?!"
Her voice was small, but full of excitement.
The surrounding passengers—including the flight attendants—cast surprised glances their way. Even the most experienced of them hadn't expected that this elegantly dressed, youthful woman was already a mother.
She didn't look a day over eighteen—and yet she had a child in elementary school?
It was enough to make people instinctively want to call the police.
Who was the bastard that got this woman pregnant at such a young age?!
Was that… even legal?
At the centre of this quiet storm of confusion, Irisviel wore an awkward, troubled expression. She glanced sideways at the girl who'd been calling her "Mom" ever since they met.
In a very soft voice, she whispered, "Illya, I've told you… I've never had a husband."
"I mean, I don't mind having such a cute daughter…"
"But are you sure you didn't mistake me for someone else?"
She tilted her head in puzzlement.
After all, she was still just a child herself—only nine years old.
Even setting aside her age, she'd lived her whole life inside the Einzbern Castle, with zero interaction with men. There was simply no way she could've had a child.
Going through her memories again, Irisviel confirmed with certainty: she'd never had a daughter. It was impossible.
Still… for some reason, she didn't dislike this girl at all. In fact, she felt a strange, warm closeness to her. Hearing Irisviel's doubts, Illya immediately shook her head with a confident grin.
"Nope, no mistake at all!"
"Mom is Mom, okay? I'd never get that wrong!"
"Well, I guess it is normal that you don't recognize me at this point in time…"
She sighed theatrically. "Geez… I just hope Daddy isn't as dense as you are, Irisviel-Mom." The little girl looked exasperated beyond her years, sighing like a tired adult.
Irisviel wanted to ask who this mysterious "Daddy" was supposed to be, but she knew what kind of answer she'd get—something vague like "Daddy is Daddy" or "Daddy is the strongest."
So she gave up the idea and simply ran her fingers through Illya's hair, choosing not to push further.
Illya, on the other hand, was anything but calm. The thought of meeting her father while he was still a young man made her both excited and incredibly nervous. If he didn't recognize her right away, like her "mom" here hadn't… well, she could probably deal with that by pouting or sulking for a while.
But if he outright rejected her—
She wasn't sure if her heart could handle that kind of blow. As her thoughts drifted, she glanced around. It was only then that she noticed someone sitting in the seat next to her.
A small girl—no older than five—sat silently by herself.
She had silver hair like hers, but her expression was cold, detached. It was rare for a child that age to travel alone, and yet, no guardian was anywhere in sight.
The girl was beautiful but carried an air of chilling indifference. Even when she noticed Illya looking her way, she didn't react at all—just stared forward, unbothered. Maybe it was the shared silver hair, but Illya felt drawn to her.
"Um… hello?" she ventured gently.
"Do you need something?" the silver-haired girl replied, her tone far from friendly—but at least she responded. Illya had half-expected her to ignore her completely like a doll might.
"My name's Illya. Would you like to be friends?"
"Friends?" the other girl repeated, her lips curling into a faintly mocking smile.
"You mean, like a toy to pass the time?"
"Eh? What did you say?" Illya blinked in disbelief. Did she hear that right? This little girl was mocking her?
"A toy to pass time? That's not it at all!" She shook her head firmly.
"I just saw you sitting alone and got curious, that's all." Illya hadn't expected the girl to be so… venomous.
"Curious, huh?" The other girl let out a small laugh, but her next words pierced like thorns.
"There's nothing to be curious about."
"My mother's dead. My father's gone. I have no family. Of course, I wouldn't have anyone sitting with me like your 'mom' does." There was a strange stillness in her voice. As if she were stating the weather.
Although the content itself should've been tragic, there was not a hint of sadness in the silver-haired girl's tone. In fact, she spoke with a bright and cheerful voice, her eyes fixed intently on Illya, as if eagerly anticipating her reaction.
"Uwah, I-I'm sorry!" Illya immediately apologized, realizing she must have touched on something painful. She felt a pang of guilt, cursing her own thoughtlessness. Just moments ago, she had been acting spoiled with her mother, only to now ask a girl—clearly without either parent—why she was flying alone. From the silver-haired girl's point of view, it must have sounded like a heartless child poking at her wounds with innocent cruelty.
Illya didn't mean anything of the sort, but the damage was already done. Surely, she would be hated for this. She lowered her head, her face red with embarrassment and regret.
What she didn't expect was that the silver-haired girl gave a small laugh.
"It's fine. I forgive you," she said brightly. "I know you didn't mean to bring up a dead father in front of a five-year-old kid all alone on a plane." She deliberately emphasized the pitiful detail in her tone.
"S-sorry again!" Illya apologized once more, uncertain if the girl truly forgave her, but clearly remorseful either way. What Illya didn't notice was the faint smirk playing at the corners of the girl's lips. It was almost as if she enjoyed watching Illya flustered and ashamed.
Still weighed by guilt, Illya tilted her head curiously. "So, um… why are you going to Fuyuki City? If there's anything I can help with, just tell me! My dad is in Fuyuki—he can definitely help you!"
The moment she mentioned her father, her confidence returned in full.
The silver-haired girl merely shook her head. "I'm going for work."
"…Huh?"
Illya looked puzzled. It wasn't that she meant to be rude, but when a five-year-old seriously claims she's flying alone for work, anyone would doubt her. Was she making things up?
Apparently, her reaction showed on her face a little too clearly, prompting the girl to frown.
"You just said your dad can help, right?"
"Yup! Papa's the strongest!" Illya proudly puffed her chest. The girl's eyes gleamed. Got her.
She tilted her head, her voice trembling with a pitiful innocence. "Then… can I ask your papa to adopt me?" She dropped the bombshell without hesitation.
"I'm about to be taken away and locked up by two very bad people. I'll lose my freedom any moment now... Unless—well, I guess it's too much to ask…" Even as she spoke, she was already shaking her head, feigning helplessness.
It was a masterstroke of manipulation, crafted to sound unbearably pitiful. Without even a pause, Illya slammed her chest with both hands. "Don't worry! If I explain everything, Papa will definitely agree—he totally will!"
"Really?" the silver-haired girl asked, trying to suppress her grin.
Illya nodded eagerly. "Mhm!"
The girl smiled faintly, eyes twinkling with amusement. "That's a relief. But before that… shouldn't you talk to your mom first?"
"…Ah! You're right!" Illya blinked, then turned toward Irisviel, chattering away as she explained the situation. The silver-haired girl watched with glee.
Only a child would agree to something like this so easily. No adult in their right mind would accept a stranger's child out of nowhere. Sure, maybe they'd offer money, maybe a temporary favor, but bringing an unknown child into your home? No way.
She had already envisioned it. That sweet girl Illya, punished on her mother's lap for promising something ridiculous. The thought of her crying from embarrassment and guilt made the silver-haired girl positively gleeful.
She imagined the mother, apologizing profusely, perhaps even scolding Illya in front of everyone, while Illya tearfully promised to be more mature.
She couldn't wait.
The idea of exposing these sheltered mother-daughter types to the ugliness of the world, showing them how even their kindness had limits—it thrilled her. The emotional turmoil, the guilt, the helplessness… it was delicious.
With that, she composed herself and put on a perfectly pitiful face, ready for the fallout.
And then, she noticed something strange.
The beautiful white-haired lady, Irisviel, wasn't struggling between compassion and reason. She wasn't hesitating between kindness and logic.
No… she was gazing at the silver-haired girl with eyes full of emotion. Like a little girl touched by a fairytale.