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Reborn in Type-Moon: Starting by Adopting Sakura - Chapter 2
🕑 Added 2025-07-13 01:23:17 +0000 UTCThe study fell into the kind of silence that made every small sound—the tick of a clock, the rustle of fabric—seem unnaturally loud.
Tokiomi's composure was cracking. His hands were getting clammy, and he kept trying to read Yuu's expression. This whole conversation was a gamble, and he knew it. He'd spent weeks working up the nerve to even bring it up.
"I'm not sure I follow," Yuu said carefully, clearly trying to choose his words. The rejection in his tone was subtle but clear.
Tokiomi's heart sank. He’d expected the answer, but it still stung. No reasonable magus would agree to a request like this—family thaumaturgical secrets weren’t shared lightly. They were passed down through generations for a reason, and guarded just as fiercely.
His palms were sweating now. If Yuu said no, he was left with two other options, and both of them made his stomach turn. Even Aoi had admitted she could live with the idea of Yuu taking Sakura as an adopted daughter, which was saying something.
But he still had one card left to play.
"Yuu-kun," Tokiomi said, abandoning his usual formal tone, "you know how our world works. Most magical families follow the single-heir system—one child inherits everything, continues the research, preserves the lineage."
Yuu nodded slowly. "Of course."
"But Magic Circuits aren't guaranteed to pass down. Sometimes magi can't have children at all. So we adopt." Tokiomi leaned forward, desperation creeping into his voice. "It's completely normal. No, it's necessary."
He took a deep breath. "Both my daughters have potential—honestly, it's nothing short of miraculous. Rin has affinities for all five great elements. All five, Yuu. And Sakura..." He paused, watching his friend’s face. "She has an Imaginary Element attribute. Just like you."
For a moment, no one said anything. Tokiomi knew what he was describing went beyond simple talent—this was the kind of potential that appeared maybe once in a generation, if you were lucky.
"To have one child with that level of petential would be incredible," he continued, his voice getting quieter. "But both of them? In the same family?"
He looked down at his hands. "You can see the problem. I can only train one heir. That's how it works. But both of them deserve a chance to reach their potential."
The unspoken reality sat heavy between them. One daughter would inherit the Tohsaka legacy. The other would need to find a different path, or her abilities would be wasted.
Tokiomi looked exhausted, like he'd been carrying this weight for months. "Yuu-kun, you remember your thesis on supernatural magnetism in non-human entities?"
"Of course. You helped me edit the first draft."
"Then you understand better than most—magical potential attracts magical phenomena. People with strong abilities don't get to live quiet lives. The supernatural finds them whether they want it or not." Tokiomi's voice was getting hoarse. "It's not a choice. It's just how the world works."
Beside him, Aoi's hands were clenched in her lap. She was trying to stay composed, but Yuu could see the strain around her eyes.
"There's only one way to handle that kind of fate," Tokiomi continued. "You have to meet it head-on. Learn magecraft, train properly, understand what you're dealing with. Otherwise..." He trailed off, staring at the floor.
"The thing is, I can only protect one of them. One inherits the Tohsaka name, gets the training, learns the family secrets. The other..." He looked up at Yuu with something close to desperation. "The other becomes a target. All that potential with no training, no protection. She'd be a walking disaster magnet."
Tokiomi's hands were shaking slightly now. "And if the Association finds out about an untrained girl with that kind of potential? They'd be thrilled to 'help' her. Take her in for her own ‘safety’."
The implications weighed on the room. Everyone knew what happened to children who disappeared into Association custody. They came out as weapons, if they came out at all.
"I've been losing sleep over this for months," Tokiomi admitted. "Aoi and I both have. We can't protect them both under our roof, but we can't just... abandon one of them either."
Tokiomi had played this perfectly. He'd built up his daughters' incredible potential without overselling it, reminded Yuu of their friendship, and painted himself as a desperate father with impossible choices. Classic negotiation tactics.
Yuu straightened in his chair, running a hand through his dark hair. His expression had shifted from confusion to something more thoughtful. "So what you're asking is for me to take one of them under my protection. Look, even if that's the case—"
"Please!" Tokiomi shot to his feet so suddenly his chair scraped against the floor. He bent forward in a deep bow, his torso nearly parallel to the ground. Aoi immediately followed her husband's lead, both of them prostrating themselves.
"I'm begging you, Yuu-kun. Please adopt Sakura."
The word "adoption" hit Yuu like a bucket of cold water. All the tension drained out of his shoulders as he slumped back in his chair.
"Adoption?" He let out a shaky laugh. "Damn, I thought you were... never mind. If we're talking adoption, then yeah, of course."
Tokiomi's head snapped up, eyes wide with surprise at Yuu's sudden 180-degree shift in attitude. "You... you'll do it?"
"Don't look so shocked." Yuu was grinning now, relief evident in his voice. "I have to say, Tokiomi, fatherhood's really changed you. Back at the Clock Tower, you were too proud to ask me for help with homework, let alone bow like that. I never thought I'd see the day you'd swallow your pride for anyone."
Tokiomi slowly straightened, his whole body sagging as the tension finally left him. This problem had been eating at him for months—how to protect both daughters when he could only train one heir. Knowing Sakura would be safe with Yuu, someone who understood her rare abilities and had the knowledge to help her develop them properly... it was more than he'd dared to hope for.
"Thank you," he said quietly. "You have no idea what this means to us."
"She'll keep the Tohsaka name, obviously," Yuu said, waving a hand. "Sit down, will you? You're making me nervous with all the bowing."
Tokiomi slowly lowered himself back into his chair, but his posture remained tense.
"Look, I'll train her properly—you know I don't get hung up on bloodline politics and all that nonsense." Yuu leaned forward. "Truth is, I've been thinking I should find an apprentice anyway. And I'll bring her to visit every year. This isn't some permanent exile."
Tokiomi just stared at him, mouth slightly open.
"What?" Yuu asked.
Beside them, Aoi pressed both hands to her mouth, but she couldn't quite muffle the small, choked sound that escaped. Tears were streaming down her face now, and her shoulders were shaking.
In the magus world, adoption wasn't like what normal families did. When a child was taken into a new magical lineage, it was brutal and absolute. The moment the papers were signed, that child ceased to exist as far as their birth family was concerned. No phone calls on birthdays. No letters at Christmas. No visits, ever. The adoptive family demanded complete loyalty, and any lingering attachment to the old family was seen as weakness—or worse, a security risk.
Aoi had spent sleepless nights imagining it: Sakura disappearing into some stranger's house, never to be seen again. Maybe catching glimpses of her years later at formal magical gatherings, where her own daughter would be required to pretend they'd never met. The thought of Sakura growing up thinking her real family had abandoned her, forgotten her...
But what Yuu was offering was completely unthinkable in their world. Annual visits? Keeping the family name? It was almost scandalous in its kindness.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, wiping at her eyes. "I didn't mean to..."
"Hey, it's okay," Yuu said gently. "Any mother would feel the same way."
Tokiomi reached over and squeezed his wife's hand. He'd been so focused on the magical and political implications that he'd almost forgotten what this meant to Aoi as a mother. Watching one of your children disappear forever, even if it was for their own safety and future—no parent should have to endure that.
"I... thank you," Tokiomi said, barely getting the words out. "I don't know how to..."
"Don't get all sentimental on me now," Yuu said with a grin. "Save it for when I actually do something worth thanking me for."
The conversation shifted after that, Tokiomi becoming more animated than Yuu had seen him in years. He told stories, cracked jokes, even laughed at Yuu's terrible puns. When Aoi excused herself—probably to compose herself—the two men finally got down to business.
"So, this snake skin you mentioned," Tokiomi said, leaning in eagerly.
"Mesopotamian origin, if my research is correct. Should be from the serpent that stole Gilgamesh's immortality herb."
Tokiomi's eyes lit up. "Are you serious?"
"Are you questioning my professional credentials?" Yuu arched an eyebrow. "I didn't spend all those years studying ancient artifacts just to make wild guesses."
"No, no, of course not. I just..." Tokiomi clenched his fist. "With that as a catalyst, I should be able to guarantee victory."
"Victory in what?" Though Yuu had a sinking feeling he already knew.
"The Holy Grail War. It's been the Tohsaka family's goal for over a century."
Yuu studied his friend's face—that familiar look of absolute determination that bordered on obsession. He'd never understood it, this driving need that consumed so many magi. The pursuit of the Root, the ultimate truth of magic... it reminded him of religious fanatics, honestly.
But he'd learned not to voice those thoughts anymore. Not if he wanted to keep functioning in their world.
"Well then," he said instead, "here's to your victory."
