Fate/Zero: A Different Path

Chapter 36

To forge a simgle sword and drive it the point of absolute perfection is the true purpose of smithing, said the famous sword maker of feudal Japan

'Rather than a mean of production, it is an art'

The saying insinuate and, more imporantly, accentuate the importance of effort over quantity as a way of living. 

It follows the school of thought from people who think hardwork can compensate for everything, later spread by the traditional culture in East Asia in regards to appreciation of cultivation over achievement

Naive. Audacious, and quite in bad taste. Real life does not work like that

My footstep echoed across the now empty hospital corridor, silent form stalking the building in search of the room from which I came from

I rounded the corner and saw it, body moving instinctively over as thoughts clouded my mind

A man who could build a single nuke would always lose against a man who build more than one nukes. That is a numerical statistic given form

Unarguable. Undebatable. Unfalsifiable

Simply put, chemical reactions does not discriminate against the law of luck or quality or any such delusional aspects the average craftsman may come up with to justify their lack of talent

I suppose my predicament to Shirou is the same

Why does it matter to me that I need to invest in 10,000 blades when I can just raise a child that can easily create triple that amount?

It is what it is. Similarly to a scam, quality through pure effort is just something taken as pure virtue without practical implications in the real world

Enough of this rambling . I thought to myself. You're always overthinking things

I don't care if the blade I am seeking is a fake. What matters is whether or not they can fight well, as a proper blade should

My hand calmly closed on the handle

To that matter, taking in Emiya Shirou could be accounted as a long-term investment rather than a permanent handicap. A weakness that should merely be eliminated without a second thought

-- At least that is what I tried to tell myself as I stood in front of the door leading to her room

As the door closed, I was faced with alarmed honey colored eyes courtesy of a certain redhead child.

Both Shirou and i gazed at each other, one with curiosity, the other with impassitivity

For a short while, only silence remained between us. Until...

"I bought some food for you" I raised the plastic bag under me. The faint smell of Yakisoba filled the room, earning a subtle growl of appreciation from Shirou's stomach

It did not take long for both her and I to go through the bought out meal. I noticed the child's face as she took her first bite. It was not pleasant

"What's the matter? Are you allergic to these kind of food?"

"No, it's not that" She shook her head "...The noodle is pungent. I think the one who made it put in too much pepper out of habit"

I slowly mulled over her words, before gazing down at my own portion. It still tastes fine to me. Which could either mean two things in this circumstance

Either I have grown desensitized to the overbearing flavor of takeout fo at least a decade now, or that Shirou's just that much of a gourmet connoisaur when it comes to fine food. There's a chance it's both, actually