While Illya was only just realizing the gravity of her mistake, the silver-haired little girl—Caren Hortensia—was already sitting in the back of a black car, riding alongside her biological father.
Kirei Kotomine.
Once a first-rate Executor of the Holy Church, and now a priest with considerable authority. But as far as Caren was concerned, he was nothing more than a stranger.
In fact, she didn't even consider him a father—let alone someone connected to her life.
She bore her mother's surname—Hortensia. Her mother had taken her own life a year after Caren's birth. Suicide went against the teachings of the Church, so as her daughter, Caren was marked with that stigma too.
She was denied baptism. No baptism meant no blessings from the Lord. And without God's blessing, Caren was shunned within the Church. As for Kirei, despite being her father, he had acted for all these years as though she didn't exist. No support, no acknowledgment—he might as well have been a stranger.
In those lonely years, Caren was taken in by a strict old priest. Life under his care was hard, to say the least, and perhaps because of that, she grew up far more mature than her age.
It wasn't until recently that the old priest received a letter—from Kirei and his father, Risei Kotomine. The letter stated their intent to bring Caren back to be raised by her biological father. It sounded perfectly reasonable.
Too reasonable, in fact, not to question—Why now?
To make things even more official, they'd sent along a generous amount of money as compensation for raising her. And with Risei Kotomine being a high-ranking priest within the Eighth Sacramentary Division, his words held weight in the Church.
With those conditions in place, the old priest had no reason to say no. He promptly bought Caren a plane ticket and sent her off to Fuyuki City. As a five-year-old, Caren had no say in the matter. All she could do was follow the arrangements and arrive in Fuyuki as instructed.
Still, even though she'd escaped her stern guardian, and was now being returned to her so-called parent…
Caren held no expectations.
She didn't know much about Kirei, but she remembered clearly—at her mother's funeral, he had looked down at the coffin with disturbingly calm eyes.
Not joy, not sorrow, not regret, not relief…
Nothing.
None of the emotions a normal person should feel.
It wasn't until much later, after becoming aware of her own warped personality, that Caren started to understand. Kirei Kotomine was just like her. Something inside him was broken. It was that very defect that led to her mother's death.
Inside the car, two silent figures sat side by side. Naturally, neither spoke a word.
"…I am Kirei Kotomine, your father." After a long silence, the priest dressed in black finally broke the quiet. Even as he introduced himself, his expression remained burdened, as if he were a monk deep in penance.
"Caren Hortensia." The silver-haired girl calmly replied with her full name. She didn't consider the man beside her a father, so she saw no need for polite address. Kirei, unsurprisingly, didn't react.
"I brought you here because I have a task for you." He didn't waste time with small talk.
"I was told there's a job," Caren replied flatly, treating the conversation like a negotiation between equals.
"But what exactly does it entail?"
"I can't imagine any task that specifically requires a child like me."
Her tone was steady, almost indifferent. She was well aware of her own twisted disposition. But aside from that, she had no particular talents. She wasn't especially gifted in academics, magic, or even physical aptitude. So what kind of job could possibly require her?
"I can't explain it clearly. Once we reach the Church, you'll understand."
And with that, Kirei fell silent again.
"Oh?"
Caren arched a brow, but didn't press further. The strange father and daughter pair lapsed into silence once more. Up in the front seat, the driver's forehead was drenched in sweat. He was a devout believer, someone who had willingly volunteered to serve the Church.
But what he didn't expect—what he couldn't have expected—was that the ever-serious Kirei Kotomine actually had such an adorable daughter. Nor could he have predicted that their father-daughter conversation would be so abnormal.
Were all holy men's families this cold and distant? Subconsciously, the driver felt the urge to put some distance between himself and the Church.
After all, he had a warm family and a sweet daughter waiting at home. He didn't want to end up like this.
…
…
Upon arriving at the Church in Fuyuki, there was no warm greeting, no inquiries about the journey, no show of care. Kirei led his five-year-old daughter straight to the underground sanctum of the Church.
Passing through magical wards woven into the walls—barriers of divine origin—he took her deeper within. Soon, they arrived at a place that resembled a prison more than anything else. And there, Caren saw it.
A young girl with short silver hair—around the same age as the Illya she had met earlier—was bound in the centre of the dungeon by thick magical chains. Her arms and legs were covered in bruises and cuts. Her small head drooped forward, as if she had fallen asleep. Chains, a dim underground chamber, a wounded silver-haired girl—just one look at the scene was enough to raise all sorts of red flags.
"This is what you brought me here to see?" Caren shot a sharp, disdainful glare at the man who was supposedly her father, her eyes filled with utter contempt.
"I see... So, this is your thing, huh?" Even Kirei Kotomine—master of suppressing emotion—couldn't help but let his face darken slightly at that accusation.
"You misunderstand. It's not what it looks like." He tried to explain. But Caren immediately cut him off with a mocking sneer.
"Ha. Save it for the Church's Enforcement Bureau." Yes, she was ready to report him. Justice before blood. She had come prepared—carrying a consecrated magecraft device specifically made for reporting violations to the Holy Church.
And it seemed like her preparations were not in vain. However, just as she was about to activate the device, Kirei quickly added—
"Wait! She's not human. She's a Servant!"
"Servant?"
Caren, hearing the word for the first time, paused. She looked over at Kirei, raising an eyebrow. "Go on, keep spinning your tale. I'll listen—for now."
"...#!" Even Kirei, unbothered by most things in life, felt his composure fray slightly under his daughter's relentless sarcasm. Taking a breath, he calmed himself and began explaining the rules of the Holy Grail War, his tone steady and deliberate.
He was, after all, the assistant of Tohsaka Tokiomi, and he needed to get this explanation right.
"Oh... I see. You've really put some effort into this story." Caren gave a slow nod, seemingly convinced on the surface.
"..."
Kirei's mental state wavered again. Just then, the silver-haired girl in chains stirred, awakened by the voices outside. Her eyes fluttered open. She gazed at Caren—five years old, small, poised—and their eyes met. Then, after a brief hesitation, the bound silver-haired girl called out, softly—
"...Mommy?"
"???"
Caren spun around with a deadpan expression, staring at the girl who looked to be eight or nine—clearly older than her.
"What did you just call me?"
She was five!
FIVE!
And this overgrown silver-haired brat just called her "Mommy"? Seriously?! The chained girl stared harder at Caren, then shook her head.
"No... You're not my mommy." Caren silently nodded. Finally, some sense.
But then the girl looked her over again and spoke once more. "Your mommy died!"
Caren's eyes flew wide open, rage starting to boil beneath her composed surface.
—What the hell do you mean "your mommy died"?!
Yes, her mother had passed away—but this was the first time someone had ever said it so bluntly, so coldly, to her face. She had no bond with her father. But her mother, who had died when she was barely one, still lived on in her memories.
A gentle woman with silver hair, always holding her close, always smiling down at her infant self with warmth. That embrace had been unforgettable.
Now that she thought about it, it almost resembled…
…that goofy but warm hug she got from that silly lady on the plane.
Caren shook her head hard. No—she was just imagining things. Pushing away the muddled thoughts, she looked again at the silver-haired girl and remembered what she had just said.
Her patience was running out. This little brat wants to die, doesn't she?! But the chained girl hadn't finished. She looked solemnly at Caren and continued,
"You don't have a mommy either."
"I don't have a mommy."
"We're the same."
"We're sisters!"
"But you're older than me—"
"So I'm the little sister, and you're the big sister!"
She had apparently constructed a complete, if bizarre, internal logic and now saw Caren—another motherless child—as her comrade.
"..."
Caren's mental state was on the verge of collapse. But as she observed the girl more closely, she realized the child clearly had something off in her head. There was a disconnect in her understanding of the world.
Even if Caren tried to argue or insult her, it wouldn't get through. So instead, she slowly turned her head and looked at her so-called father, her lips curling into a fake smile.
"Your mommy's dead too!"
"..."
Kirei stared back at her, expressionless.
What did that have to do with me?! You're the one being harassed, and now I'm catching strays? Well, fine.
"…My mother—your grandmother—has been dead for ages."
He had no emotional attachments to speak of, so it didn't bother him. Still, he couldn't help but sigh inwardly.
A tiny dungeon, and somehow, it's home to three people with mommy issues. How terrifying.