Several weeks passed; I'm slowly getting used to life with the Belladonna family.

Before the end of the month, the fridge was completely covered with pictures; I'd suggested organizing them into an album, before exposure to sunlight eventually destroyed them.

Kali immediately decided that making not just an album, but two backups is the proper approach. I'm certain this will come back to haunt not only me, but my new little sister as well – although by this point, there isn't a lot I can do about it.

Blake – for now – energetically shows me the pictures while recounting what we were doing when they took place, unaware of the future embarrassment we'd have to endure; I've resigned myself to humiliation, for the both of us.

She is very impressed at the speed that I've been learning, attributing it to her skill in teaching; I did not dissuade her train-of-thought, even though I'm actually just getting reacquainted with the language.

Kali is all hugs and motherly affection, moving through the entire household and putting everything in order with commendable skill. I took to helping out whenever I could, deflecting her attempts to make me go and play under the excuse of "mother-and-son bonding", which was received fairly well – even letting me help in the kitchen somewhat.

Being unable to reach the counter evoked a distant feeling of nostalgia and homesickness, but I soldiered on.

Ghira is still distant, even when I compare him to Kiritsugu in my mind. We're respectful towards one another, but missing the raw closeness when compared to the warm welcome I'd received from the rest of the family.

I honestly can't blame him; if anything being accepted by Blake and Kali this quickly is the oddity. Blake might be happy to get along with someone for once; reading isn't all that popular with children – even more so when the books have words as complex as the ones she prefers.

As for Kali… I have no idea. She might be like Fuji-nee and just go around taking anything that interests her, but I've witnessed far more cunning deceptions than that, so whatever plans she may have remain unknown to me.

Clink

The noise of cutlery echoes around the table. We all eat quietly, the calm silence only interrupted by the faint conversation between Kali and whomever she engages at the moment.

It flows seamlessly through the environment, the easy-though-shallow conversations complementing the serene mood.

As I pick up the dishes to take them to the sink, out of the corner of my eye I see Kali dragging Ghira by the arm quietly to a corner. Considering all that is there is the end of the corridor, there isn't a lot of privacy to be had, other than what they might say.

Had I already fixed the issues with my circuits, simple reinforcement to be able to hear them from here would not be difficult, but that remains a pipe dream for now.

I approach them quietly and focus on their voices, not in the habit to eavesdrop on anyone – but considering I'm still a new addition here and that I might be able to help – an exception wouldn't be out of place.

"Honey."

Kali voices starts, sickly sweet, a demure tone spelling doom.

A chill crawled across my spine. It might just be my imagination, but I could have heard Ghira swallow from here.

She continues, her voice still sweet, but with the dangerous edge a bit less pronounced.

"You can't avoid it forever. Shirou won't push it, but he assuredly notices how distant you are with him."

I exhale softly. So this is what the conversation is about.

Indeed. In comparison to my new sister and Kali, Ghira is almost a complete stranger. I see him act boisterous and full of a quiet enthusiasm when interacting with his daughter and his wife that disappears whenever I'm near.

But that is to be expected. Blake is still a child, far more accepting of these changes than any adult.

Kali decided to adopt me herself; as to why? That is only for her to know, I suspect. Factor in that she is without a doubt moreaccepting than a couple that waited for adoption for months.

I don't remember well, but even Kiritsugu was like a stranger at first, my admiration for him being the proverbial grease in that strained period of our relationship.

Ghira didn't have any of that; in his eyes, I might have well been but a temporary addition to the household. Someone to treat with politeness, a guest in his house would be treated as such… but not someone to become that close to.

Not on the level as an actual son, for instance.

I back away from the wall I'd been pressing my ear to; leaving as silently as I arrived, having no interest in listening in on any more of that particular conversation.

Sigh

I need to make it easier for him somehow, albeit it's not my fault that I was suddenly adopted here. If we are to peacefully co-habit, the obstacle is clear to me. I don't know of his hobbies other than politics, and while I'm certain I could make for a passable debate partner, coming from a child as young as I am would be too unbelievable.

I shake my head a bit. I just need to ask Blake about that later, there is a much more pressing issue that needs to be dealt with.

I'd set this aside for long enough; even under the duress of the lack of a proper method I need this resolved; I'm now sure enough of the routine of everyone to practice my magecraft safely, having a private shed or similar would be ideal, but I don't want to impose any further.

I merely need to wait for nighttime to arrive.

I'm alone in my room.

A chill in the air, complemented by the silence – broken only by the faint noises of critters surrounding the place.

Nostalgia overtakes me as the painful feeling of a red hot rod inserting itself into my spine makes itself known.

aUgh

If I make any mistake here, even Aura won't be able to save me, the damage to my spine too severe for it's healing capabilities.

I had little desire to use this method, but my usual trigger wasn't enough to unlock my dormant circuits. Additional stimuli needed to start the process for the first time.

Without Rin and her jewels, nor a competent magi to be able to circle their magical energy through my body to awaken my circuits, all that remained was this method.

With a temporary circuit, I'll try to awaken my true ones.

Trace On

I circulate Od through my body, storing it evenly throughout my entire being. Although not truly localized in the body, magic circuits are anchored in it.

I take a deep breath.

I direct my Od to the dormant pathways, saturating them with energy.

The hammer of the gun is cocked, my mental trigger ready.

I exhale. The hammer is fired.

Pain

HNRGH!

I struggle to keep the guttural sound confined within my throat, my vision swimming as my body explodes with agony.

I feel a single circuit flare up wildly, as my body becomes numb.

Ugh!

My mind now feels heavy as lead.

I'm no longer sitting on the ground, now laying on my side a top of it – the pain not even letting me realise when I fell.

I inhale sharply while I try to wrestle control back from my circuits. My body temperature rising quickly.

"Trace… on!"

I murmur defiantly.

Discharging my recently-converted prana, shapes that are too familiar to me on my mind.

On my knees, I thrust my hands in front of me: prana visibly leaking from them in a wild manner. Forms well known to me rapidly forming before them.

The pressure lessens instantly, the pain becoming numbness alongside it.

As my awakened circuit calm down, (How many did I manage to unlock?) I stare at the blades in my hands – their grips more familiar to me than any other.

The reassuring weight of both Kanshou and Bakuya in my grip, no changes even in a world where they never existed.

I slowly let my tense body relax. Using my mental trigger I deactivate the few magic circuits awakened by this mess. All five of them.

Sigh.

As the married blades dissipate in motes of light before my eyes I hope the remaining circuits won't cause this much of a mess.

I make way towards my bed with uneven steps, already directing my Aura to reduce the pain throughout my body.

Thump

As I softly fall on it, I'm once again reminded of how much I prefer a futon to this; a Western bed being too far above the ground for my liking.

These were my last thoughts, before the lull of sleep overtook me.

And for the first time in this world, I dreamt of swords.

There is a small clearing behind the manor, a quiet meadow without trees or bushes for a few square meters around the house. A quiet space that was just shown to me when I asked Ghira about somewhere I could train.

"You're too young for any kind of combat school, but if you're just looking to exercise… this area should be sufficient."

In front of me, Ghira Belladonna stands. His hulking form almost paradoxically meek as if unsure how to proceed, betraying my previously built-up image of him.

"There isn't anything built here yet, but eventually we can gather the needed materials and make it into a dedicated area."

His voice sounds clear, even as his gaze is fixed ahead instead of turning to me. Possibly imagining how it would be built.

"It doesn't need to be that elaborate, just around here is fine."

My protest goes unheard as Ghira tentatively pats my back.

Thump

Only he completely misjudged the strength and I almost end up sprawled on the grass.

"Don't worry about it Shirou. I've been slacking off a bit while being the chieftain, so I need to get back in shape anyway."

He says those words after clearing his throat and looking very uncomfortable while I was flailing to not fall flat into the ground. Hesitant to just grab and stabilize me after the failed reassuring pat on the back.

I nod. As long as he isn't doing it only to cater to me alone, it should be fine. They all already do plenty for me, and I'm still in no position to repay them.

Ghira looks at me for a couple more seconds, fidgets a little and then straighten himself.

"Wait here a bit, Shirou."

He then proceeds to hurry back into the house.

…

He is a good man. Kali is probably pressuring him a bit to bound with me, but he is certainly making an honest try to get to know me better, even as he is certainly used to a different pace in his house and me throwing the established dynamics to the wayside.

As I contemplate what I could do to make it easier on everyone, Ghira arrives with a toolbox and a small bundle of thick branches.

He once again is before me, but this time speaks with more confidence.

"Well, even if constructing a training area is for later, we can prepare some of the training tools we'll be using in the future."

He lays the box on the ground and sits next to it, after a quick gesture from him I mirror his actions. He gives me one of the branches and, after laying the bundle aside, he opens the box and grabs what I recognise as a straight chisel, a cutting gorge and a couple other wood-carving tools.

With a set in hand and with the other beside me, he calmly gestures the proper motions and techniques to carve the wood into what might be a boken.

He goes through the motions as if remembering to do them himself, his mind focused not on me or the branch being carved, but lost in his own memories.

I grab my own set of tools and begin carving. Although I didn't work with wood all that much, I had tinkered with such on occasion. Besides, anything that will result in a sword as the final product I'll have a nearly instinctive grasp of.

Well, it's better to not presume a task finished until it actually is, thus I resume working. Cutting the bark, and removing the excess material from my image of a sword stuck inside the branch.

The wind calmly whistles as time elapses, wood shavings decorating the ground around us as we work. The peaceful moment stretching pleasantly, my mind wandering even as my hands remain busy. Thinking of this world, my new family and about my plans for the long-term future.

Before I know it, my hands have let go of the tools, the wooden bokken in my hands. I still need to treat the wood and a few finishing touches before it's ready, but the shape is familiar to the training swords I knew.

I look away from my "finished" project to Ghira, finally coming out of his reverie and staring at me and the bokken in my hands. He diverts his eye to his own bokken, done well enough, but with a few chips and not as smooth even before both mine and his have gone through a sanding process.

A moment passes before he barks a laugh.

"Well, you certainly took to this better, than when my father tried to teach me!"

He guffaws loudly and once agains pats me on the back, his second try way actually a success. As in, it doesn't qualify as an attack.

He extends his hands and I place my sword on them. He quickly turns it in his hands, observing it from various angles while he observes it while making approving grunts and hums.

"Well, I might not be qualified to say, but you might be quite the prodigy. I have no talent for it, but I have practiced a bit. Well done, Shirou."

He looks at me softly, a smile for once not a bit forced on his lips.

I think quietly to myself: 'Maybe this will all work out', as I (try to) smile in return.

AN: Welp, I did post two chapter before the time and then got late two weeks. A fair trade…?

Anyway, what is done is done. Med school is trying it's best to crush my soul and stalling my work. I will do my best to pump a couple chapters weekly, at least to the current arc end. See you guys later, review any questions, criticism or compliments! Bye!