OMAKE: Dealing with “H-Scenes” (Shuffle X-over)
Avalon Castle, Phantasmagoria Island (Grail Works, Ltd. Headquarters)
Outside the boundaries of time and space
As matters grew visibly more intimate, to the point that clothes were very obviously about to be removed, Shirou coughed and looked away.
“Ah, we really don’t need to see this, Ilya-chan . . .” he muttered, red-faced.
Truth be told, he wasn’t entirely comfortable with some of what they’d already seen—personal, private matters had a right to remain that way, after all—but given the nature of the situation, he’d been forced to admit it was kind of unavoidable. Even discounting Primula-san’s request to watch, if this whole world really was an eroge visual novel (which, according to Kohaku-san’s shopping trip, it was), then circumstances such as those came with the territory.
He absolutely drew the line at their needing to see the “H-scenes,” howev—
“YES WE DO! WE ABSOLUTELY DO!”
The unexpected explosion from his right had Shirou’s head swiveling around so quickly that it was a wonder he didn’t snap his neck.
“WHAT?!” the redhead demanded, his embarrassed flush returning with a vengeance as he stared in disbelief at Primula.
Nor was he the only one nonplussed by her outburst. Sakura’s eyes looked as wide as his felt, and Rin, while expressionless, matched him in terms of complexion. He was still learning to read their friends from Misaki, but Hisui-san and Akiha-san, at least, looked embarrassed as well—and while her blindfold made it difficult to tell, the sudden stillness of her posture implied even Rider was discomfited. Ilya was harder to read; mostly because she was at an angle to stare at Primula directly, and thus, he couldn’t see her face; but though her body language was visibly tense, it was she who eventually asked the question.
“. . . And why is that, Primula-san?”
“Because we could actually learn the answer to one of the greatest mysteries of the twenty-first and –second centuries!” the amethyst-eyed girl asserted, in a tone of unshakable faith.
“. . . What.”
Shirou didn’t mean to say it like that, necessarily—flat and tonelessly—but the answer was such a shock that he just couldn’t muster up the comprehension to respond with any kind of appropriate emotional resonance. How on earth could a mystery over one hundred years old be solved by . . . Peeping?! What kind of mystery could . . .?
Primula coughed, and began to explain.
“’Nii-chan, is, in essence, half-God—pun not intended,” she added quickly, “while at the same time, more or less biologically Human. Humans are frailer than Gods or Devils—this isn’t an insult, it’s simply fact: lacking magic to strengthen them, they neither live as long, nor heal as well as Gods or Devils do. At the same time, there are reasons that Sia and Nerine were only children, despite the King of the Gods having three wives, and the King of the Devils being a perverted lecher; because they live longer, Gods and Devils simply aren’t as fertile as Humans are.
“Despite all that being true,” Primula concluded, “and the various issues involved in their differing biologies, he managed to not only induce, but convince her to go through with, a dozen pregnancies—and arguments continue to this day as to HOW!”
A stunned silence fell over the group, with the various females in the room either blushing or blanching as that statement sunk in, depending on their personal interpretations and inclinations.
Not seeming to notice the reactions in the room, Primula continued, listing off possibilities, “Some quirk of biology making for extreme compatibility, or innate magical power—or just her being unable to say ‘no,’ for reasons that range from ‘unhealthy submissiveness’ to outright mind control; or the sex just being that good . . . People from all walks of life have debating it for at least the last sixty years, with no definitive answer . . .”
She sighed, apparently oblivious to the increasing pallor (or redness) of various faces.
When Shirou finally found his voice, some moments later, he croaked. “. . . Ah, well—wouldn’t you know . . .?” he offered weakly.
An incongruously grim expression settled on Primula’s face.
“‘A lady is entitled to her secrets,’” she muttered. “Even when they all finally stopped considering me 'too young to hear things of that nature,' it was all she’d ever say about it—and nobody could get her to talk!
“The smug, lucky bitch . . .” she added under her breath.
Quick glances were exchanged around the room by the various girls—and while Shirou didn’t quite understand the context of them, he had an intuition of sudden danger.
“. . . W – well,” Rin offered, “if it’s the interests of history and the spirit of scientific inquiry, I suppose we could—”
That was all Shirou needed to hear before fleeing the room—whatever came next, he wanted to be nowhere near the vicinity. In fact, the further away he could get the better.
I wonder if Issei needs help up at the Temple . . . ?