AN: For the past month or so, I haven't been able to focus on a single story or plot-bunny for more than a day at a time, which has more or less crippled my writing ability. Still, I've decided I need to at least sit down and try to work at something, so here's a fate zero SI.

I awoke to what sounded like thunder. Normally, I was a rather heavy sleeper, but a series of nightmares had wracked my sleep(as they tend to do when I need to use the bathroom). The sudden burst of noise was the final straw necessary to pull me from my slumber though, and now that I was awake I could feel my bladders protests.

Blinking, I pulled myself from under the covers and looked around for my glasses. I had(and have) an annoying tendency to just leave those lying around at random when going to bed, especially when tired. And I had had a long, long night the prior evening. After a second or two of searching, I spotted them sitting on the seat of the chair that sat besides the desk I never used between my dresser and bookshelf.

Getting up with a yawn, a stumbled over to the chair and plucked my glasses from where they lay, quickly putting them on and throwing the sting over my head. With a second yawn, a I unsteadily mad my way to the bathroom to relieve myself.

Once I accomplished my simple mission, I trudged over to the sink to wash my hands, glancing at the clock above the mirror as I did so. Eight thirty. That was only about an hour earlier than I usually woke up, but I had been up until four AM the night before, so my eyelids still felt like they were weighted. Yawning yet again, I decided to go back to bed . . .

'gwarrrrr'

. . . After having a snack.

I lurched my way out of the bathroom, my sense of balance having recovered only slightly over the last few minutes, and made my way down the hall to the living room, which was between the kitchen and the hallway.

As I walked out into the room, the thought that building a house with a layout identical to the home I had grown up in spoke poorly of my mental health crossed my mind for what was probably the hundredth time, but was quickly put aside as I noticed a light reflecting in one of the painting on the wall. Looking around the room, I realized that the glow was coming out of door of a closet like room opposite the television. Pausing to stair for a moment, I heard the telltale sound of computer keys being pressed.

Groaning, I palmed my forehead and dragged my hand down my face dramatically(knocking my glasses off in the processes, though the string stopped them from falling). With a huff, I stomped up to the open doorway to find, to no surprise, that my . . . shall we say roommate, was currently sitting in front of a large computer screen, clicking away.

I sighed loudly and exasperatedly. "Didn't I tell you not to stay up all night playing that thing?" I complained, glaring at their back. "You get like this every time I get you a new game, playing until the small hours of the morning. I know your . . . " I trailed off as I realized that I had yet to receive any form of acknowledgement whatsoever.

"Hello?" I waved my hand in front of their face, still getting no response. "Helloooooooo? Are you in there?" not so much as a blink. They just kept pressing the keys, fully absorbed with what the character on the screen was doing. " . . . Ok, you've gone full screen zombie, time to get off of this thing." I ground out, walking around them to where the computer was plugged into the wall. You can probably guess what I did from there.

Turning back to my roommate, I watched unimpressed as they continued tapping away at the key board, seemingly oblivious to how the screen had gone black. After a moment, one of their ears twitched. Then, they began to blink rapidly, seemingly realizing that the computer was off. With a horrified shudder, they began mashing buttons in a panicked rush, as if hoping that would bring the screen back to life.

After several seconds of button mashing, they slowed to a stop and they just starred at the black screen. Slowly, they began to look around the room. I could tell from the look in their eyes they were confused that the rest of the lights were still on. Finally, their eye's fell upon me, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, beside the power outlet. Holding the computers power cord in one hand. Then they threw their head and bellowed in despair. "Fouuuuuuuuuuuuuu!"

As one could easily guess, an eight inch tall cat/dog/fox/squirrel creature, no matter how intelligent, would have a great deal of difficulty using kitchen appliances. This obviously left me in charge of meals . . . and most other things, for that matter (That is not to say he didn't do anything but sit around looking cute(although he did that to), but for the most part he did little things, like dusting, of weeding the flowerbeds outside.)

Cooking is a somewhat aggravating task for me, as I can be a painfully picky eater, a trait the had unfortunately rubbed of on Fou, and I wasn't really all that inventive as a chef. Throw in the fact that I get sick if I eat anything overly sweet before the afternoon, and you can clearly see why breakfast usually ended up being something simple like toast, smoothie's, or my go-too lazy day meal, a single large carrot.

And it was business as usual on that front, with me drinking a smoothie(Banana, yogourt, strawberry, canned peaches, milk and a dash of cinnamon) and Fou getting a bun slathered in raspberry jelly and warmed up in the toaster-oven.

An average, but not unpleasant start to the day.

Or it would be if Fou wasn't glaring bloody murder at me from the hi-chair on the opposite side of the table from me, tail twitching in an 'angry feline' sort of way. They had only taken a single bite out of their bun, which they had spent the last three minutes chewing without swallowing.

Meeting their eyes for a moment, I sighed as their glare intensified and set down my smoothie. "Fou, I know your mad, but . . . " I trailed off, not knowing what to say. I wasn't exactly good with conversations, especially when trying to apologize for things I didn't actually feel guilty about. So instead, I decided to just get to the point.

"Fou, we both know that when you go "Screen Zombie" it's practically impossible to knock you out of it without someone(read: me!) getting mauled. It was either turn off the computer or douse you with water, which, considering how close to the screen you were, may have damaged the computer. Would you have preferred that?"

Fou looked away grumpily, refusing to meet my eyes. I sighed and leaned back into my chair, taking a sip of my smoothie. I waited a moment to see if they were going to do anything, but they just kept staring into the corner, shoulders slumped in a sulk. I continued."I'm sorry if you hadn't saved in a couple of hours or something, but really, do you even remember what you were doing? You seemed pretty out of it."

"Fou!" they snapped, casting a glare at me before turning around and sulking even harder.

I huffed another sigh out. "Fou, if you want an apology, I'm sorry. I know you love those games of yours, I like playing them too. But you get way to lost in those things. So if you end up going "Screen Zombie", I'm going to unplug the computer. Ok?"

Fou huffed out an annoyed whine, and nodded. I watched them take bites out of their bun, sulking all the while, but at least they were eating, so they weren't too angry anymore. Of course, that was the point at which the guilt hit, keeping me from celebrating my victory.

Leaning back into my chair, I took another sip of my smoothie as a weight sank in my stomach. 'I guess I was a bit caress earlier. I could have at least tried to knock him out of it without unplugging the computer. Should I apologize? Would that be enough to make up for it?' I looked down at my smoothie, and had an idea. 'Would that work? I guess it wouldn't be a bad idea to take the day off after yesterday . . . '

I finished the last of the fruity drink in a single long gulp and stood up."Tell you what, how about I make it up to you? We both had long nights, and I don't want to so much as look at my workshop today. So. Why don't we go to town and have some fun?" I asked, getting an ear perk in response. "I know I usually only go to town to pick-up groceries on Thursday, but today just feels like a good day for a drive. We could get some new board games, buy one of those McDonald's milkshakes you like, maybe go to the movies if there's anything good playing. What do you think?"

Almost the instant I finished talking, Fou jumped to their feet and began cheering their name pokemon style. I'm sure they couldn't have looked more excited if they wagged their tail. Normally they only got that excited when I got them a Final Fantasy game or something like that.

"Well, I definitely don't need to get the spelling machine to know that means "Yes."" I chuckled. "I'll go get dressed, then we can go. Just make sure you bring the glamour, I don't want to have to hypnotize someone into letting me erase their security camera footage again."

Receiving a salute from small phantasmal being(or the closest approximation he was capable of) I got up and made my way back to my bedroom, where I changed out of my pyjamas. I emerged a few minutes latter wearing a pair of faded blue jeans and a long plain red long-sleeved T-shirt. Fou was waiting by the door like a puppy excited for their walk, shivering in anticipation.

When I opened the front door, they rushed out like a little white blur, only to be stopped by the screen door that separated the porch balcony from the outside. Not for the first time, I considered installing some pet doors. Fou could open all the doors himself(assuming they weren't locked), but it wasn't exactly easy for them.

Once outside, Fou dashed down the stairs and unto the flat cobblestone walkway that lead straight from the bottom of the stairs to the garage were I kept my truck. Fou waited impatiently beside the dark green vehicles tires as I opened up the hood and gave it a quick once over with structural grasping. Once I was sure everything was in working order, I opened the door and hopped in, Fou on my heels.

As I pulled out of the drive-way, the large, heavily decorated metal gate opened, seemingly on it's own power, revealing a dirt road just beyond. And then we were off.

My truck rattled and clattered as it rumbled down the bumpy mountain road, the sound not quite drowned out by the blaring music coming out over the radio. A large cloud of dust formed in our wake, a clear sign that it hadn't rained recently, and startled birds took took to the sky as we passed.

Fou was standing on my left, balancing on the door-handle with his head out the window, eye's closed and an extremely satisfied expression painted across his face as the wind whipped through his fur. Most of the time I'd tell him to be careful, but that day I thought something allong the lines of "he never listened to me before why bother?", and decided to just focus on driving.

Me and Fou lived in the rocky mountains, a good hour and a half long drive away from the nearest town(assuming one was driving at a safe speed anyway). This left us pretty isolated most of the time, but that was perfect for a magus who didn't want to be disturbed. I didn't necessarily like living so far from civilization, but it was a necessary sacrifice in the grand scheme of things. I had a responsibility to uphold, and I couldn't stop until I knew it was a lost cause.

'What else would I do anyway?' I thought. 'Make friends? Like that would be a good idea after how I wound up here. Study magecraft? Like I'm not doing that already Try to get home? My only hope for that would be Zelretch, and he hasn't been in this timeline for years. No, it's probably best I see this through.' I sighed.

'But still, has it really been eight years since I woke up here? It doesn't feel like it's been that long since I woke up in . . .' I stopped that line of thought as a shudder raced down my spine. I took one hand off of the wheel, running my fingers over a slightly sunken in spot on my wrist that was covered by my sleeves. 'Just thinking about it is making the scars tingle . . . '

I groaned out loud, drawing Fou's attention. They hopped down from their position next to my open window and unto my lap with a cute whine of curiosity. I chuckled, putting my other hand back onto the wheel. "Sorry Fou, just feeling homesick again, nothing to worry about. I'll be fine as soon as were in town."

Fou looked at be for a moment, before suddenly digging their face into my side. The sudden unexpected action sent chills down my spine, causing me to jerk. "Woaa! Hey! Distracting the driver bud!" I yelped as the truck swerved. "Watch it, were like a hundred feet in the air!" I laughed.

"Fouuuu!" the cried, snuggling into my side even harder. Of course I was expecting it this time, so I didn't get chills, but it still tickled.

"Alright I get it, no sulking while we're supposed to be enjoying ourselves, I get it, yeash. Couldn't you wait to cheer me up until were not four feet away from a hundred foot drop?" I snap, still smiling.

"Fou." they say, tipping their nose up smugly.

I resist the urge to add on to the drama and focus back on the road ahead of me. We ride in comfortable silence for several minutes, listening to the 80's rock music coming over the radio. Fou's efforts to cheer me up had worked, but my mind was still on the topic of my first few months in the world of Fate . . .

"Hey, bud?" I speak with a questioning tone. "When we finally find a way to wake all the others at the lake up, what do you think we should do? I honestly have no idea what to do after that. Should I try and find a way home? Go get a job? Try and find a girlfriend?"

"Fou? Fou fou."

"I know, I know, we have to actually free them first, but that doesn't mean we can't plan ahead, you know?"

"Fou, fou fou fooou."

"Yeah, I guess your right. We should just enjoy ourselves for today. Turn that music up!" I cheered, my favourite beast of calamity jumping on the dash to do just that as I speed up a little.

"I can worry about the future tomorrow." I adjusted my hands on the wheel as the back of my right hand began to itch. "Still . . . I can't wait until this is over."

A small part of me was disappointed when we reached the bottom of the mountain a half hour later, the rocky mountain road giving way to smooth asphalt. The mountain was beautiful in a way I don't tired of quickly, and the highway was a pore replacement, no matter how much more comfortable the driving experience was.

But, a larger part of me was eager to get into town. I rarely took any time to myself anymore. Between most of my favourite series not existing, the internet still being in it's early days, and our isolated location, I had little in the way of distractions from my research. And while that was a good thing, considering how bad my work ethic is when I'm distracted, it also meant that I tended to find myself working long hours into the night.

Just the night before I had worked several hours past my standard curfew upgrading the defences around my workshop and the lake, for the third time that year alone.

In short, a day off was a long time coming.

"So bud, were to first?" I asked the phantasmal being as we cheerfully as we reached the outskirts of town. "You decide." I pulled out a map of town, setting it on the seat next to Fou. They made a show out of considering his options, pacing back and forth making high-pitch "hmm" noises, before shooting into a pointing pose and placing a paw over the part of town where the arcade was located.

I smiled wryly. "Didn't this all start because of you video-game obsession?" I ask in a dry tone of voice.

"Fooooou, fou fou." They argue.

"Yeah, I guess I did say it's your choice, didn't I? Ok, let's go."

We spent a total of three hours at the arcade, having to fight our way through a bunch of kids due to it being summer. Luckily, they had yet to install any security camera's, so between some basic illusions, hypnosis, and a weak boundary field, we were free to do as we pleased without to much worry.

Fou got the high score on a couple of different games(under the name C.P.) and was quite smug about it, to my own annoyance. I meanwhile spent the entire time hogging one of the seven pinball machines and manage to break my own person record of four million, but failed to take a high score of my own.

Afterwards we went to McDonald's and got him the milkshake I had promised him earlier. I had gotten myself a chocolate shake and a cheeseburger.

After lunch we spent the next several hours wandering from store to store, window shopping. We browsed through everything from music to art supplies to books. We even went to a pet store and grabbed Fou a few things. Once we finished shopping for the day, we looked up what movies were playing. After some deliberation, we had decided to go see "Honey, I Blew Up the Kid," at the drive in theatre that night.

Now all we needed to do was kill three more hours.

I had decided that it was as good a time as any to have dinner, and made my way to a restaurant that I had visited a couple of times in the past. Fou, not being hungry and feeling tired from the long day, had chosen to take a nap in the back seat of my truck while I was inside.

When I first stepped through the door, I was greeted by a pleasant scent of one of the other customers meals. I have a rather poor sense of smell the majority of the time, and can only rarely catch even a whiff of a smell, so it was quite a nice surprise. I breathed in deeply, enjoying the sensation while it lasted. By my third breath, I could barely make anything out, and by my fourth, I was back to my usual state of "Nose blindness".

A little disappointed but not discouraged, I looked around the room for a place to sit. There were multiple round tables with an average of three to four chairs spaced equally around the room, about half of which were currently taken. After a moment of searching, I found an un-taken spot that seemed like it would be unpopular with most customers.

Smiling, I walked over to the far corner of the room and took a chair at a table that was a fair distance from both the windows, front door, and kitchen. Picking up a menu, I looked it over while waiting for a waiter or waitress to get around to taking my order.

It was about two minutes later that a waitress arrived to take my order. She was a pretty young woman, blond with brown eye's, wearing the white blouse with a green vest and ankle-length skirt that was this restaurant's woman uniform. The name tag on her chest read "Clara".

"Hello," she began, putting on a polite smile. "May I take your order, Sir?"

"Yes," I started, eye's flickering to the name tag on her chest a second time just to make sure I got her name right, "Clara? I would like to have a beef barley soup, no crackers on the side."

She nodded and wrote something on her notebook. "Would you like anything to drink?"

"Just ice water for now, thank you." Clara nodded and walked back to the kitchen. She returned a few minutes later with my ice-water, before going off to take another customers order. Now came the hard part. Waiting.

I leaned back into the rather comfortable chair, crossing my legs and folding my hands in my lap. I glanced around the room, looking for the clock, only to remember that it was behind me a moment later. Twelve after six. I sighed.

Having nothing better to do, I closed my eyes and began to go over the things I had worked on over the last few weeks.

I had hidden machine guns inside hollowed out tree's(or mini guns if the tree was thick enough), and set them to pop-out and fire at anything that penetrated the third layer of defences around my workshop at the lake. I had made four new guard golems, and worked on a new model that I hoped Fou would be able to pilot like a mech suit. I had also made some notable improvements on my ability to golems out materials other than the standard wood, clay, metal and stone. My puppetry was coming along nicely, though I still couldn't control multiple at once without their movement's looking robotic.

'I'd rather be working on my mental theory, but I really need to focus on improving my defences as much as possible before my trip next month . . . ' I thought, lips pursing as I let my head hang lip on my shoulder's for a few seconds. 'I can't afford to have someone break in while I'm not there to guard the lake.' For the second time that day I felt a flash of mental exhaustion at the thought of the lake, but I put it aside quickly.

Noticing that my legs were starting to feel stiff, I stood up and stretched, cracking my fingers in an over head stretch. I felt a slight flash of pain in my right hand, but before I could investigate, Clara was back with a bowl of soup balanced on a tray.

She set the tray down on the table, and carefully moved the bowl of soup over to in front of me. "One beef barley soup."

I smiled and nodded, reaching into my pocket to pull out my wallet. "Thank you, how much do I owe you?"

"That will be . . . " Clara began, only to train off, her eye's focusing on my right hand, which was in the process of opening my wallet. "What happened to your hand?" she asked in a shocked tone, taking a step closer to get a better look.

"What?" I looked at my hands. At first glance, there didn't seem to be anything wrong with them, but after looking at the back, I realized that the back of my right hand had a blood red stain across it. "What the heck? Where did this come from?" I snapped in confusion, rubbing at the red spot. It was dry, and my rubbing didn't visibly affect it. "Is this paint?" I frowned.

"So your alright?" The waitress asked, relief apparent in her voice.

"Yes," I reassured her with an awkward smile. "I'm pretty sure that it's just paint. Not sure were I got it on me, but I'm not hurt or anything."

"Oh! Thank goodness." She seeming deflated in relief for a moment, before seemingly remembering why she was there in the first place and straightening her posture. "Now, as I was saying, you owe us . . . "

I cut her off by shoving a small wad of cash into her face. "Here, keep the change. Consider it an apology for scaring you." She seemed a bit shocked, but after our eyes met for a brief moment, she grinned and took the money without question, going back to the kitchen.

I sighed, collapsing into the comfortable restaurant chair and slumping back. I glanced at the steaming bowl of soup sitting in front of me, before returning my attention to the back of my right hand.

I closed my eyes and focused for a moment, the image of a glass sphere appearing behind my eyes. With no warning, the sphere shattered violently, as if shot by a bullet, and I felt the pulse of heat as one of my prana-circuits opened. I flowed some of my energy through my hand in preperation for structural grasping. But, before I could try and grasp the red mark, the energy was absorbed by the stain and my hand started to itch.

My eye's shot open in surprise. Looking at my wrist again, I found that the red stain had morphed into the blood-red image of a snowflake, seemingly split into three equal segments.

"Of course." I muttered. "Why am I not surprised?"

AN: HAHA! I have done it! That only took . . . about a month . . . yikes. Well, I finish the first chapter, and that's what matters.

I already have some idea for things I want to do with this fic, but I feel like skipping straight to the grail war would be a bit . . . sudden, so I'd like to have a few chapter build up beforehand. I have some stuff roughly planned out for Kariya, but not much else.

Normally when I write, I know what I want to do for the start, and a lot of idea's for the late game, but no idea how to get to those late game idea's. That's what usually kills my muse. SO! This time, I'm going to ask anyone who happens to be reading this what they think is a good idea. Let's see if you can feed my muse, and go for 50k words or bust!(Probably bust . . . )

See you . . . probably some time next month . . .