Chapter Four: Aoi Tohsaka and Rin Tohsaka

During these past few days of work, although Roland hadn’t demonstrated any abilities beyond what he showed in his interview, the store manager was still quite satisfied. In times like these, with such a sluggish economy, it would seem that finding employees shouldn’t be difficult. Yet, the convenience store’s modest wages and the need for someone to be present at all times meant staff turnover was always high.

Most of the employees were part-timers or temps, and with the city still under construction, finding someone who met the manager’s standards was even harder. If troublesome people were hired, he’d have to check inventory and cash balances every day, only adding to his workload.

Someone like Roland, with experience and reliable skills, who didn’t even need extra instructions, was a godsend for the manager. To keep Roland around, the manager had even scheduled him for the quieter shifts recently. Unfortunately, Roland didn’t seem to enjoy working behind the counter, even though he was perfectly capable of handling customers.

Was it his personality—perhaps he was uncomfortable dealing with people? Maybe the manager should ask if he’d prefer working the night shift.

Once the manager left, Roland let out a sigh of relief and focused on his hands, tapping lightly on the counter. His long nails made a crisp sound as they struck the surface.

"My nails have grown again."

He didn’t particularly mind the cashier’s work, but the problem was that the influence of Yoshikage Kira, his contracted spirit, was beginning to show.

At first, he was merely fascinated by his own hands, and he could still restrain himself. But as the days went by, surrounded by all sorts of customers, Roland felt his instincts growing unruly.

Whenever he faced a customer, strange thoughts crept into his mind.

This woman’s hands are well-proportioned, but her skin is too rough. That child’s hands are also fair but marred by a burn scar, spoiling their beauty. This schoolgirl’s hands are lovely, but the calluses on her fingers from writing are regrettable.

Oh! That office worker’s hands are beautiful. If only I could hold them, play with them, savor them...

"No! Absolutely not!"

Roland slapped his face, trying to shake off these wandering thoughts.

He was starting to sense just how strong Yoshikage Kira’s influence was. Under this kind of pathological, abnormal compulsion, it was hard not to act out.

He felt his own desires growing twisted—after all, that was a living, breathing schoolgirl. As a healthy adult man, his first reaction should have been to admire the long, stocking-clad legs under her skirt, not her hands!

Was this normal?

Because of this, Roland didn’t even dare look at the Mona Lisa lately. This was the Nasuverse, after all—who knew what sort of connection that Mona Lisa had with Da Vinci? If things were as she claimed, just entertaining those kinds of thoughts could become a lifelong trauma for Roland.

His preferences were already veering off track; he couldn’t afford to accelerate on this downhill road.

"Welcome," he called out.

This was the convenience store closest to the park, and at this time of day, mothers often came in with their children to shop.

While straightening up the counter, Roland greeted the woman and her child with the habitual politeness of his role, not even looking up. As he rubbed his temples to clear his mind, he observed the newcomers.

The woman carried an air of classical beauty, her features elegant and refined. She had a gentle, forest-like grace, her long green hair cascading naturally over her shoulders without ornament.

Her bearing was calm and dignified, always wearing a gentle smile. If one had to describe her in a single phrase, it could only be "Yamato Nadeshiko"—the epitome of demure Japanese womanhood.

Even with a child in tow, her poise gave her the aura of a proper young lady from a distinguished family, inviting admiration and making one more forgiving of Master Cao’s peculiarities.

But the most striking thing was her hands.

She held her daughter’s hand with one, and with the other, she picked up a carton of orange juice and set it on the counter.

"Hello, could you please ring this up for me?"

"Of course."

Roland began the transaction mechanically, his gaze briefly drifting over her hands. Up close, their beauty was even more apparent—white as snow, tinged with a delicate cherry blossom hue at the fingertips, unstained by the world, yet so alluring one could hardly resist coveting them.

He wanted to kiss those hands, press them to his cheek, lick them...

Desires kept sprouting in his mind like roots burrowing deep. Ever since forming his contract, he had not yet managed to satisfy these impulses, nor relieve the pressure building inside him.

To keep himself in check, Roland subtly scratched his own palm with his nails, using pain to warn himself and suppress his urges.

"That will be one hundred and ten yen. Would you like to include this chocolate as well?"

Noticing the little girl, who had quietly placed a bar of chocolate on the counter while her mother wasn’t looking, Roland’s thoughts were interrupted. He glanced at the girl, her height just allowing her to push the chocolate up onto the counter.

In recent days, as he grew accustomed to his new instincts, Roland fought a constant inner battle. Not because he had some iron will forbidding his desires to warp, but because he understood a simple truth:

If you can’t control your lower half, then it’s not your lower half anymore—it’s your mind.

Stay calm, Roland. You must stay calm!

No matter how beautiful those hands are, remember, they’re attached to a person!

It’s like sprinkling rainbow-colored sugar over a whipped cream cake—a vulgar, pointless decoration that only sullies the cake’s true beauty.

While Roland wrestled with himself, the little girl, caught trying to sneak her chocolate into the purchase, stiffened and quietly withdrew her hand, lowering her head in embarrassment.

The woman with the classical beauty noticed her daughter’s small misdeed. Her elegant brows knit together, and she gently chided, "Rin, you’ve already had sweets today. That’s very rude! Have you forgotten the Tohsaka family motto?"

The simple name struck a chord deep within Roland’s DNA.

Wait—Rin?

He turned to look at the disappointed little girl. She was still young, but already bore a striking resemblance to her mother—a budding beauty.

This child was none other than Rin Tohsaka? Then this classical beauty, whose hands he was coveting, must be Aoi Tohsaka?

Like a flower in the mirror, or moon reflected on water, once recognized, the truth was undeniable.

"I’m sorry, Mother..." the little Rin apologized obediently, without a word of protest.

Seeing her daughter’s downcast look, Aoi Tohsaka sighed. Knowing how sad Rin had been this past year, she didn’t scold her further, but instead gently stroked her daughter’s head.

"Just this once, all right? I’ll buy it for you. In return, when you go stay with the Zenjou family, you must behave yourself. Your father is preparing for something very important, and we mustn’t distract him."

"Okay!"

Children’s moods changed quickly. Comforted by her mother, Rin soon brightened.

After soothing her daughter, Aoi turned to Roland and handed him the chocolate as well.

"I’m sorry for the trouble. Please add this to the purchase."

To be able to maintain her composure with strangers, and show understanding to her child—such a beautiful inner character. She would surely get along well with someone like me, Roland thought, still reluctant to see her leave even as he finished the transaction.

But soon, a more pressing realization struck him.

They would be going to the Zenjou household soon, which meant—the Fourth Holy Grail War was about to begin.

Watching as Aoi Tohsaka led Rin out of the store, Roland’s eyes glimmered with anticipation.