The air in London seemed to carry a damp, cold oppression entirely different from Fuyuki City. Following the instructions in the letter, Kirei Kotomine arrived at that Private Hospital like a marionette. He pushed open the familiar hospital room door, and the sight that met his eyes made his already cold heart feel as if it had fallen into an ice cellar.
Kanjuro was sitting by Claudia's bed, holding a bowl of what seemed to be freshly fed porridge, gently wiping the corner of her mouth with a handkerchief. Claudia leaned against the headboard, and although her face was still pale, it bore a brilliance Kirei Kotomine had never seen before—a mixture of shyness and dependence. The atmosphere flowing between the two was blindingly intimate.
Kirei Kotomine's steps froze at the door, his throat feeling as if it were blocked by something. He forced himself to stay calm, speaking in a nearly stiff tone, his gaze piercing Kanjuro: "Kanjuro, I'm here. You went through all this trouble to call me to London, what exactly do you want to do?"
Hearing this, Kanjuro unhurriedly set down the bowl and spoon, his face showing a smile that could be called "gentle" yet was also chilling. He didn't evade or hide, giving the answer with a directness that was simple to the point of cruelty:
"What do I want to do? It's actually quite simple." He reached out and naturally took Claudia's hand which was resting on the quilt, his gaze meeting Kirei Kotomine's "frankly," "Claudia and I are together now. She felt she had to give you an explanation personally, so she asked you to come."
Claudia avoided Kirei Kotomine's gaze, her head lowered, her voice weak but clear: "Kirei... I'm sorry. But... Mr. Kanjuro and I... are serious. We... hope you can understand."
Kirei's mind went blank for a moment. He had envisioned countless ways Kanjuro might torture him, but he hadn't expected such a direct, humiliating trampling of his last nominal relationship. However, unexpectedly, a strange sense of near-relief first surged in his heart—at least Kanjuro's goal seemed only to humiliate him, not to take his life immediately. Claudia's "change of heart" instead felt like an excuse that allowed him a moment to breathe.
He forcibly suppressed the surging unpleasantness and the sting of being deprived, his face squeezing out an extremely ugly, nearly distorted "smile," as he spoke in a deliberately casual tone:
"Heh... just for this?" He shrugged, trying to appear completely indifferent. "I thought it was something major. Since you like this sickly woman, then do as you please; I have no objection. After all... I can't give her anything anyway."
His tone shifted as he looked at Kanjuro again, alertness and inquiry hidden deep in his eyes: "So, Kanjuro, did you bring me here just to notify me of this? If there are no other 'instructions,' I believe I can leave."
"Of course not just that." Kanjuro's smile deepened, like a spider eyeing its prey. "Tonight, London, the Clock Tower rooftop. I'll be waiting for you there. Come alone."
The Clock Tower rooftop? Alarm bells rang in Kirei Kotomine's mind. That was the core territory of the Mages' Association, by no means a safe place. What trick was Kanjuro trying to play now? But he had no choice in the matter.
"...Fine." Kirei Kotomine squeezed the word out from between his teeth. He stopped looking at the "perfect couple" on the hospital bed, turned around, and left the room as if fleeing. At the moment he closed the door, he caught a glimpse of Kanjuro moving even closer to Claudia out of the corner of his eye. That image was like a poisonous thorn, stabbing deep into his heart, though he was loath to admit it.
Inside the ward, as Kirei Kotomine left, the atmosphere shifted slightly.
The feigned affection on Kanjuro's face vanished instantly, replaced by an all-knowing, mocking playfulness. He gently let go of Claudia's hand, a cold smile curling at the corners of his mouth.
"It seems your fiancé doesn't care about you all that much. He left quite decisively."
The blush and radiance on Claudia's face also quickly faded. She leaned back against her pillow, a bitter and knowing expression appearing on her face.
"He has never been someone with normal emotions. I got used to it long ago." Her gaze turned toward Kanjuro, complex and hard to read. "Furthermore, Mr. Kanjuro... Kirei Kotomine would never proactively entrust anyone to take care of me. From the first day you appeared, I had a faint suspicion."
Joan of Arc, who had been standing silently in the corner of the room like background scenery, suddenly looked up, a flash of shock in her ice-blue eyes. She had thought this was just a one-sided deception, but she hadn't expected... Kanjuro raised an eyebrow, seemingly unsurprised by Claudia's clarity. Instead, he asked with interest, "Oh? Since you knew, why did you cooperate with me in this play? Even... accepting my 'confession'?"
Claudia looked at Kanjuro. In her eyes was the exhaustion of someone who had seen through the world, but also a sliver of resolve, like a moth to a flame.
"Because... you were very good to me. These days have been the time I've felt most 'alive' since I fell ill. And..." She paused, her voice very soft but carrying a strange weight, "I like you from the bottom of my heart, Mr. Kanjuro. Even knowing it might be an illusion, or poison."
Joan of Arc was completely stunned. She looked at the sickly woman, seeing the sorrow and courage of her conscious descent into ruin, and an indescribable surge of complex emotions rose in her heart.
Kanjuro fell silent for a moment upon hearing this. Uncharacteristically, he didn't immediately show a mocking or triumphant smile. Instead, he looked at Claudia and genuinely sighed—a sigh that seemed to contain a hint of... touch that he hadn't even anticipated?
"Sometimes, I really don't understand." His voice lowered slightly. "Often, people like you, who are shackled by life, understand what emotions are better than many healthy people and are more daring in facing the truth, even if it's a cruel one."
He confessed, no longer pretending.
"Yes, it was like that from the beginning. I approached you, cared for you, and 'confessed' to you only to use you to hurt Kirei Kotomine more deeply. You are merely a pawn in my game."
Hearing this, Claudia didn't show the anger or breakdown of being deceived. Instead, she gave a very pale but relieved smile.
"I know. Now your goal has been achieved; you've seen his pathetic state as he tried to act like he didn't care but couldn't fully let go. You are satisfied. So... you can leave now, Mr. Kanjuro."
Kanjuro looked at her, feeling a bit surprised for the first time. He pressed, "You're not asking me to stay and continue 'taking care' of you?"
Claudia shook her head, her eyes clear and mournful.
"There's no need. I am just a tool you can discard after use. Moreover... how could a man like you, who is like the abyss itself, care about the feelings of someone like me who is about to die? There is no such boring warmth in your world."
Her words were like a blunt knife, carving open the cynical facade Kanjuro had meticulously maintained, pointing straight at the core of his chaotic essence. The ward fell into a brief silence, with only the rhythmic ticking of the medical equipment remaining, as if counting down for this twisted confrontation.
Kanjuro took a deep look at Claudia. That gaze was no longer just looking at a tool; it held a hint of indescribable scrutiny. In the end, he said nothing, turned around, and left the ward with the complex-looking Joan of Arc.
The door closed gently, isolating the despair and clarity within the room from the deeper darkness outside.
And the appointment on the Clock Tower rooftop awaited the fall of night.
Kanjuro gently closed the door to the ward, temporarily isolating the space filled with the smell of medicine and fragile hope behind him. Joan of Arc was leaning against the cold wall of the corridor, her ice-blue eyes watching him with a hint of all-seeing mockery.
"It seems that Miss Claudia understands you... a bit better than I imagined?" Joan of Arc's tone held a faint sarcasm. "She seems to have sensed some of the essence beneath your gentle mask, yet she still chose to indulge."
Kanjuro stopped, turned his head to look at Joan of Arc, and the usual gentle smile on his face instantly vanished, replaced by a cold, almost cruel insight. He sneered.
"Understand me? Jeanne, you overestimate her too much, or rather, you underestimate the instinct of people in despair to grasp at 'hope'. Do you think the bit of clarity and so-called 'gentleness' she showed was out of genuine consideration for me, seeing my essence and still choosing to accept me?"
He shook his head, his eyes deep as a pool.
"No. That's only because she is a patient dying from illness. Her body is too weak to produce or respond to more intense desires. Her so-called 'letting me go' is more like a helpless compromise in a state of powerlessness, with a hint of self-indulgent sentimentality. A sorrow of... 'this is all I can give you'."
Joan of Arc raised an eyebrow, her interest seemingly piqued. "Is it not?"
A nearly cruel arc curled at the corner of Kanjuro's mouth.
"Of course not. When she recovers her health, when her body is full of vitality again, when hormones and life force surge within her, when she can truly feel the stirrings of lust instead of being suppressed by illness... let's see if she'll still be so 'generous' in letting me leave. At that time, possessiveness, jealousy, longing... all the human desires temporarily frozen by disease will awaken like thawing poisonous snakes. She won't let me go; she will only fall more completely, wanting to firmly grasp me, the 'lifeline' and 'perfect lover' in her eyes."
Joan of Arc was silent for a moment, a hint of challenge appearing on her frozen face. "Sounds like absolute confidence in your own charm... Kanjuro, do you want to... make a bet with me?"
Kanjuro turned around with interest, facing Joan of Arc directly. "Oh? How do you want to bet?"
"It's simple," Joan of Arc said clearly. "As you said, use your power to help her recover her health. Then, don't you boast of being able to control all desires? Use that 'spear of longinus' from the dark bible, which symbolizes desecration and desire (she deliberately used this suggestive title), to have a relationship with her. After that, if she experiences a healthy body and extreme desire yet is still willing to let you leave and chooses not to cling... then I win."
A dangerous light flashed in Kanjuro's eyes. "And the stakes? What are the conditions for your win?"
Joan of Arc seemed to have thought it over already and replied, "There is only one condition for my win. But I haven't fully decided on what exactly I want you to do yet. When I win and have thought of it, I want you to... unconditionally do a 'good deed'." She emphasized the words "good deed," which was undoubtedly the greatest irony and challenge for Kanjuro.
Hearing this, Kanjuro was stunned for a moment, then burst into laughter as if he had heard the most absurd joke in the world.
"Haha... Hahaha! A good deed? Fine! Very well! Jeanne, you're getting better and better at finding amusement. Fine, I'll take this bet! I'll let you see with your own eyes how so-called human nature is utterly fragile before awakened desire!"
"Mhm," Joan of Arc responded faintly, saying no more. She didn't believe human nature was inherently good; she just didn't believe Kanjuro could perfectly control and predict everyone's reactions like a god every single time. The complexity of the human heart sometimes exceeds any calculation... At dusk, the remaining glow of the setting sun lazily spilled into the ward, plating the pale room with a layer of false warmth. Claudia lay quietly on the hospital bed, as she had for countless sunsets past, watching the birds occasionally flit across the sky, her eyes hollow and mournful.
(He's gone, I suppose... that Mr. Kanjuro. How could a perfect person like him truly belong to this cage filled with the smell of disinfectant? Perhaps... no one will ever come to visit me again...) A strong surge of loneliness and self-pity welled up in her heart.
Just then, the ward door was pushed open silently.
The figure she thought would never appear again had returned.
Kanjuro had that same reassuring and gentle smile on his face as always. He walked calmly to her bedside and sat down naturally.
"Mr. Kanjuro? You... why did you come back?" Claudia asked in surprise, though an uncontrollable hint of joy rose in her heart.
Kanjuro didn't answer immediately. He just stared at her silently, his deep eyes seemingly wanting to pierce through her skin and look directly at the deepest longings and vulnerabilities of her soul. He watched her for a long time, his gaze sweeping over her cheeks thinned by illness, her bloodless lips, and those once-bright eyes that were now clouded.
Then, he slowly raised a hand, palm down, hovering a few centimeters above Claudia's body.
No incantations, no great burst of light. Only an invisible, intangible, yet seemingly reality-warping power quietly spread out, centered on his palm—
[Constitution Alteration Authority]—Activate!
A warm current, like the primal force of life itself, surged into Claudia's withered frame! Her organs, failing from a rare terminal illness, were like parched earth meeting a long-awaited rain, greedily absorbing this power and beginning to repair, regenerate, and glow with vitality at a visible speed! A healthy blush quickly appeared on her pale cheeks, her dry hair became lustrous again, and her weak limbs were filled with a long-lost, burgeoning sense of strength!
That terminal illness that had tortured her for years and pronounced her death sentence vanished in an instant under this transcendent authority, like shadows dispersed by sunlight!
Claudia's eyes widened in shock as she felt the earth-shattering changes occurring within her body. She subconsciously raised her hands, looking at her fingers which were no longer trembling and were full of strength. Her breathing became smoother and deeper than ever before.
"This... this is...?" Her voice trembled with extreme shock, tears instantly filling her eyes. The gaze she directed at Kanjuro was filled with gratitude, as if looking up at a deity, and... a re-ignited, fiery vitality and desire belonging to a healthy woman.
Kanjuro withdrew his hand, looking at her transformed state, a meaningful smile of having everything under control appearing on his face.
The bet had officially begun. And what was being revived was not just her health, but also that surging human desire that had been suppressed by illness for so long.
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