Chapter 316: Shinji: Good Morning! Children's Show!
Shiki wasn't a stranger to Magical Illya.
Before she officially joined The Garden of Sinners film crew, she had been following the show.
Not because she was a tokusatsu fan, of course. No, the only reason was that this was a Shinji Matou production.
When it's the Big Boss's work, you show some support—whether you actually like it or not.
After all, what if Shinji casually asked about it someday and she couldn't answer? Getting on his bad side over something so trivial would be the last thing she wanted.
But once she started working full-time with the crew, her schedule became too hectic, and she gradually fell out of watching new episodes.
That didn't mean she was cut off entirely, though. Before filming began, Shinji himself had mentioned that on evenings when things weren't too busy, he would hold "viewing sessions" where the cast could watch Magical Illya together.
Those sessions had practically become part of Type-Moon's company culture by now. And since the film crew was under the company, participation wasn't optional.
Besides, Shirou and Touko had both put effort into the making of Magical Illya. Watching the show meant appreciating their work as well.
So when she joined the crew, Shiki was already expecting she'd be watching anime with everyone sooner or later.
What she hadn't expected was that Shinji would actually go so far as to halt half a day of filming—just so she could watch Illya's broadcast premiere.
And not only that. Before the broadcast, he'd even gone back to help her catch up on the episodes she had missed.
"Shinji-kun, this is basically just you pushing your recommendations onto me, isn't it?"
To her complaint, Shinji only smiled faintly.
"Watch the story carefully. Illya is struggling with an identity crisis right now. That's very similar to your character's state at the beginning of the movie. If you study her performance closely, it'll help improve your own acting."
Of course, if we're being honest, Illya's acting in Magical Illya was nothing more than what you'd expect from a typical kids' tokusatsu show.
Compared to the standards Shinji demanded for The Garden of Sinners, she was still far from the mark.
But that didn't matter. What Shinji wanted was for Shiki to observe how Illya acted—so that she'd at least have a point of reference for her own performance.
Once the cameras rolled, Shinji would be setting the bar far higher anyway.
"…Got it."
Shiki puffed her cheeks slightly, eyes locked onto the TV screen. A notebook rested on her lap, ready for her to take notes at any time.
If Director Shinji said watching this grade-schooler magical girl show would help her acting, then she'd give it her all.
When it came to passion and seriousness toward acting, Shiki Ryougi considered herself nothing less than professional.
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The story of Magical Illya had already reached the climax of the first season of the original manga.
Previously, after defeating Saber, Illya and her friends had encountered Assassin.
As in the manga, Illya—poisoned and cornered by Assassin's coordinated assault—unleashed a desperate burst of power that wiped them all out in one go.
Poor Hassan of the Hundred Faces. No matter which version of Fuyuki City he appeared in, his fate was always miserable. Despite his unique numbers advantage compared to other Servants, he never managed to capitalize on it properly.
Back in Fate/Zero, Hassan had tried to rely on his multiple bodies to ambush Iskandar's Master.
But his opponent turned out to be an even bigger cheat—an army far larger than what Hassan's fragmented selves could muster.
And that was that.
To challenge a king who once marched across three continents with an invincible army—yeah, that was like sticking a straw in a toilet: nothing but a crappy idea.
And now, once again, Hassan was trying to play the same numbers game.
To be fair, his group tactics weren't completely wrong. Target the weakest one, overwhelm them with sheer numbers—under normal circumstances, it was a decent strategy.
It wasn't a matter of how many Hassans Illya could stop. Even if just one slipped through, with their expert killing techniques, that was more than enough to target the weakest member of her team.
The strategy was simple, almost boring—but undeniably effective.
So long as Hassan of the Hundred Faces was willing to sacrifice some of his own clones, victory was within reach.
Of course, that kind of underhanded fighting style wasn't invincible either. Breaking it only required two possible answers:
Either overwhelm Hassan with even greater numbers, like the King of Conquerors once had, or—wipe out every single clone in one strike.
In Illya, our magical girl chose the latter.
With her life on the line, Illya didn't hesitate. She flipped the switch inside her once again, unleashing the "other self" sleeping within.
A torrent of mana burst forth with crushing force, exploding outward like an unstoppable wave. The magic "tsunami" devoured everything around her. The blinding light that erupted illuminated the night sky as if it were midday.
That night, Illya became light itself.
—or no, to be precise, she detonated with enough magical energy to erase every last Assassin in sight.
It should've been a moment of triumph.
But the one who had pulled it off—Illya herself—was utterly terrified.
Back when she defeated Saber, she'd blacked out, completely unaware of what had actually happened.
This time, though, she had remained conscious from start to finish.
She knew exactly what she had done—what kind of power she had unleashed.
And so, just like any child who had made a terrible mistake, Illya ran.
She dashed home as fast as she could and hid herself away.
Who could blame her?
She was just a "normal" elementary school girl. Suddenly becoming a magical girl one day was already absurd enough.
You could try to explain it away with "well, Ruby the pervy wand prefers grade-schoolers to high-schoolers," but this sudden, overwhelming surge of power—something beyond anyone's expectations—left Illya completely adrift.
Almost everyone, at some point, has dreamed about having superpowers. About being someone extraordinary.
But when such power actually manifests—when you find yourself wielding something far beyond human limits—anyone with a sane mind and a moral compass can only feel lost and afraid.
That denial of one's own identity is not something you crawl out of easily.
Even in the newest episode, we see Illya, backpack slung over her shoulders on the way to school, but her bright and cheerful smile was gone. The little girl who usually loved to laugh wore a face clouded with gloom.
Even when saying goodbye to Sella at the door, Illya forced a smile.
The viewers could see right through it—her inner turmoil was almost tangible across the screen.
Seeing her so weighed down, so unlike herself, you might've mistaken her for Miyu, the girl who rarely ever smiled at all.
And perhaps to mirror Illya's conflicted heart, the entire day in the story was overcast. The heavy blanket of clouds during the day pressed down on the audience too, amplifying the suffocating mood.
Illya hardly spoke to anyone that day. Only whispered conversations with her wand, Ruby, broke the silence.
Just as Miyu had said, her body hadn't suffered any damage from releasing such massive mana. The real wound was in her heart.
She denied herself.
She feared the power she possessed.
And she began to question the very dream she had once cherished—the dream of being a magical girl.
As she turned those doubts over and over in her mind, the sparkle faded. The role of magical girl, once filled with admiration, became tainted with blood and violence. Illya recoiled from it, afraid, and even went so far as to whisper to Ruby:
"I don't want to collect cards anymore."
At last, after a whole day of anguish, Illya submitted her resignation—to Rin Tohsaka.
"Mm-hmm… poor little girl… mmhmm… it really breaks your heart to watch."
With a cookie in her mouth, Aoko offered her commentary between chews.
Alice wrinkled her nose in disgust.
"Could you not talk with your mouth full? Crumbs are flying everywhere."
"Sorry, sorry."
Though she said the words, the carefree Aoko made no effort to stop, continuing to munch noisily away.
Alice could only sigh helplessly.
"I've told you how many times now? If you insist on watching the premiere first thing Saturday morning, then at least eat breakfast earlier. Every time you watch and eat like this, it's your stomach that's going to suffer."
Aoko's hand, halfway to her mouth with another cookie, froze for a second. She muttered under her breath:
"…You are such a nagger…"
"What was that?"
"Ah—uh, I said, it's surprising how much Rin Tohsaka cares about Illya. I didn't expect her to be that attentive."
Pointing awkwardly at the TV, Aoko added, "Maybe it's a case of like Master, like Servant. Since her partner is Archer, she's turning into a fussy old mom too?"
Alice just shook her head. Of course, she'd caught Aoko's slip of the tongue, but she couldn't be bothered to press the issue.
"Hasn't Rin always been the classic case of 'sharp tongue, soft heart'? Or, as Director Matou would put it… tsundere?"
No sooner had she said that than she noticed Aoko staring at her with a very odd expression.
"…What?"
Tapping her chin thoughtfully, Aoko replied, "Nothing. Just thinking—you and Tohsaka are kinda alike."
Well, of course they were. Both Alice and Rin had been built off Nasu's "generic second-heroine template."
But that was hardly something Alice herself would ever admit.
Who was she? The proud heiress of the illustrious Kuonji family.
And Rin? A country girl whose family couldn't even count as local nobility.
"How exactly am I like that bumpkin? That girl only got screentime in the film because she's childhood friends with the director. And now, thanks to riding that wave, she's suddenly one of the world's most famous magus heirs? Don't make me laugh."
Alice's sheer presence radiated so strongly that Aoko found herself instinctively leaning back.
"Whoa— that's some serious resentment there. Alice, you're jealous, aren't you?"
Alice flatly refused to dignify that with a response. Instead, she tilted her head toward the clock, clearly impatient.
"Shibamatsu is way too slow. Don't tell me he couldn't buy the wand?"
"Not much he can do," Aoko said soothingly. "The toy store hasn't even opened yet. You'll just have to be patient."
"Tch. He's a magus, isn't he? Why not just plant a suggestion on the shopkeeper and grab it early?"
"Hey! Who was it who insisted on 'playing by the rules,' huh?"
Meanwhile—
"Achoo!"
On the streets of Akihabara, standing in line outside a model shop that hadn't opened yet, Shibamatsu sneezed loudly.
"…Why do I suddenly feel like someone's badmouthing me?"
He sighed, gazing up at the cloudy sky.
"Man, I wish I could watch Illya's premiere too. If only phones could stream TV shows…"
Grumbling, he scrolled aimlessly through his phone.
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"Illya-chan really is pitiful," Shiki murmured as she scribbled in her notebook, jotting down thoughts while watching.
"She's not really going to quit being a magical girl, is she?"
Onscreen, Rin accepted Illya's resignation, remarking that with only one card left to collect, Miyu alone would suffice. Whether Illya participated or not didn't matter anymore.
After all, judging by their track records, Miyu's consistency was far more reliable than Illya's occasional bursts of power.
"As if. Come on, the protagonist leaves, the team struggles, then she returns as the savior at the critical moment. You can't possibly not see that cliché coming."
Shinji reached over and patted Shiki's shoulder, signaling for her to focus.
"Quit thinking about the plot. Pay attention to Illya's acting! Look at how she portrays a character lost in uncertainty."
'Tch. You think I didn't? I was just trying to make conversation with you, dummy.'
Shiki shot Shinji a mock glare, but since he was still sitting there, arms folded and eyes glued to the screen, she had no choice but to sulk and return her focus to the TV.
Compared to poor Shiki, though, the group holding a watch party back in Fuyuki had it far easier.
No notes. No assignments. No director breathing down their necks. The Type-Moon crew was just there to kick back and enjoy themselves.
Dun dun dun—!
"Haaaah—"
After chugging down a can of beer, Cu Chulainn exhaled with satisfaction.
"Damn, life without a Master really is the best!"
Back in Venice, Shinji had kept him on an unbelievably short leash.
To make sure his image stayed flawless until he snagged that Best Actor trophy—an image perfectly tailored to charm every old man and grandma on the jury—Shinji had put a total ban on all of Cu Chulainn's favorite pastimes.
Forget nightlife. Not even fishing in broad daylight was allowed.
"Damn that Master…" Cu grumbled, slamming down his empty can. "Venice is supposed to be a city of indulgence and pleasures, but my days there were duller than a monk's. Hell, back when I was training under that old hag, life wasn't even this boring!"
"Old hag? Which one?"
Illya, curious as ever, scooted closer. Her crimson eyes sparkled as she tilted her head at the hound.
"Mm… my Shishou," Cu said after a moment, scratching his chin. "Strict as hell, had to butt into everything I did, always insisting I wasn't good enough. That old hag."
Illya tilted her head the other way. "Sounds like you really hated her?"
Cu scratched his head with a wry smile.
"Not exactly. She was my master, after all. I respect her plenty. Just… I could've done without all the 'lessons' that were really just excuses to drag me out back for a beating."
"That kind of relationship feels familiar somehow. Someone who's kind and caring… but also such a pain to deal with… who is it again?"
Illya thought hard, her brows knitting in concentration. Then, all of a sudden, a metaphorical light bulb popped up over her head.
She clenched her tiny fist, gave her palm a playful smack, and giggled in realization.
"Ah, I get it! It's Mom～～!"
Cu gave a sagely nod.
"Yeah. Exactly. Just like a mom! That woman really did feel like one of those nagging mothers."
"Illya-chan～～so in your eyes, your mother is just a big bother, huh?"
That sweet, airheaded voice chimed in from directly behind them.
"—!"
Illya's face drained of all color. She froze like a rabbit caught in headlights—her expression matching the one her TV-self was making almost perfectly.
Slap
A pale, delicate hand settled gently on her shoulder.
Cold sweat dripped down Illya's temple as she slowly turned her head. Just one glance was enough to see Irisviel's ever-kind, ever-bright smile.
"Ma… Ma…"
The little girl's soft body locked up like a malfunctioning machine, her voice stuttering and broken.
"Yes? What about Mama?"
Still smiling, Irisviel tilted her head, clearly amused to see how her daughter would explain herself.
"M-Mama… Mama-darling～～!"
Desperate for survival, Illya suddenly threw herself into Irisviel's arms, hugging her tight with all her might.
"Mama-darling, I missed you sooo much!"
Her face was buried deep into the vast comfort of Irisviel's chest. The sheer clinginess of it made Mordred, watching from behind, glare with open envy.
Not because she wanted to snuggle up to Irisviel, of course. No, she was simply jealous of Illya's ability to show such affection so easily.
"…If only I could interact with Father like that too…"
"Mordred, be a dear and fetch me a sandwich, would you?"
"Right away, Father～～!"
Leaving Mordred happily playing errand girl for her beloved king, the scene on the couch remained soft and heartwarming. Irisviel gently stroked Illya's head over and over, her touch brimming with affection.
"My, my, Illya, you really are such a mischievous girl."
If she had taken offense at Illya's "disrespectful words" earlier, she certainly didn't show it. On the contrary, she looked every bit the picture of a warm, doting mother.
"Huh… This scene feels just like a projection of what's happening on the TV."
Cu popped open another can of beer and took a long gulp. He looked from Irisviel and Illya beside him… to the nearly identical mother-and-daughter pair glowing on the screen.
Not completely identical, maybe. But close enough to be called a perfect match.
Of course, only Illya herself knew the truth—buried in Irisviel's embrace, she was literally being squeezed within an inch of her life.
"Mmm… Ma… Mama… urgh…"
"You missed Mama a lot, didn't you? Well, Mama missed you just as much!"
Irisviel's smile never faltered as she pressed Illya's face even deeper into her chest, her arms tightening with frightening affection.
'Urk… did I just dig my own grave? Or is this… Mom's revenge?!'
Illya's lungs screamed for air. Her breathing grew shallow.
"M-Mama…"
She tried to cry for help, but no sound came out.
She struggled, hoping someone would notice—but to everyone else watching, it looked like nothing more than a sweet, spoiled child cuddling up to her mother. And no one wanted to ruin such a tender mother–daughter moment.
And so, with deep, bitter regret, Illya felt her consciousness drifting away, as if she were aboard a small boat slowly floating downriver into the distance…
'…Help… meee…'
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Compared to that suffocating "murder-hug" in real life, the mother-and-daughter embrace on TV was the genuine article—a scene of warmth.
Of course, much like Illya's first encounter with Ruby, this was yet another scene that Shinji had altered. In the original manga, this heart-to-heart had taken place during a bath scene.
But there was no way in hell Shinji was letting that slide. Passing censorship aside, if he actually aired a scene of his wife and daughter bathing together for the entire nation to see, Kiritsugu wouldn't just toss him into Tokyo Bay encased in cement—he'd dig up some ancient Egyptian torture ritual and feed him to bugs.
Yes, that punishment. The one straight out of The Mummy.
And if it were done with the Matou family's crest worms, Shinji wouldn't even get the luxury of becoming a mummy. He'd be gnawed clean long before that.
So, for the sake of his own life—and to keep Magical Illya from devolving into cheap fanservice trash designed to bait ratings—Shinji rewrote the scene into a gentle moonlit talk in the hallway.
But his tweaks didn't stop at changing the setting. He also placed heavy emphasis on the use of lighting.
If it was going to be set under the moon, then moonlight had to become the most important piece of the set.
At first, as Illya and Irisviel clung to one another, the moonlight was cast far away, deliberately leaving them in the shadows. That distance symbolized Illya's own rejection of herself.
Then, as Irisviel spoke to her, guiding her gently, the moonlight gradually drew closer—until finally, Illya was bathed in its glow.
The shift in light and shadow was more than simple aesthetics—it was visual poetry, a cinematic language that let the audience see Illya's shifting heart. And whether or not it landed depended entirely on the cinematographer and director's sense of staging.
Thankfully, Tsuburaya Productions' crew were among the finest in Japan. For them, such play with light and metaphor was child's play.
In the long corridor, Irisviel wrapped her arms around Illya from behind. She poked her daughter's cheek with a playful finger, teasing softly:
"Mhm~ Illya-chan, you seem awfully tense. Could it be… you're hiding something terrible from Mama?"
Illya's head jerked aside nervously. "N-no… nothing…"
Her stammering, shifty eyes betrayed her completely. Anyone could tell she had a secret weighing on her heart.
But Irisviel wasn't the kind of person to press her daughter for answers. Instead, she gently explained the reason she had returned.
"Mm~ I've only come back to the country for a little while," she said in a soft, soothing voice. "One stage of my work wrapped up, so I came home on my own. Kiritsugu is still busy overseas, so I won't be able to stay here for long."
"I see…"
Hearing that her mother wouldn't be around for long, Illya visibly relaxed, relief washing over her face.
Unfortunately, she relaxed far too soon.
Without warning, Irisviel lunged forward and wrapped her daughter in a sudden hug, hands sneaking around to feel her soft little waist.
"So I need to make the most of the time we do have together, Illya-chan! Let's get as much close contact as possible while I can! Have you grown? Have you grown~?"
The playful scuffle between mother and daughter left Shiki staring blankly at the screen, her expression screaming only one reaction:
[I Don't Get It, But I Am Deeply Shook.JPG]
"Uh, Shinji-kun? I am watching a Saturday morning children's show, right? Then why is this…"
Shinji waved his hand dismissively, as if her confusion were beneath him. "What's the big deal? It's just a bit of pure, innocent mother–daughter horsing around. If you'd ever seen Good Morning! Children's Show! you'd know Japanese children's programming gets way stranger than this."
"Besides," he added with a smug grin, "I actually held myself back. I've got much spicier ideas in my head that I didn't even film."
"Eugh."
Shiki spat out a single word, dripping with contempt: "Pervert."
"I'm just telling the truth," Shinji shrugged. "Why don't you believe me?"
And to be fair, Shinji wasn't entirely wrong. Compared to the original manga, this really was him exercising restraint.
In Hiroyama's version, Irisviel actually groped Illya's chest while asking, 'Have you developed at all?'
Honestly, when it came to that like-minded fellow degenerate, Shinji didn't know whether to praise him for daringly to showcase his own personal "preference," or curse him for leaving behind so many plotlines that would never survive live-action broadcast review.
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Note:
1, Good Morning! Children's Show! Is a Japanese television block that aired between the 1970s and the 2000s, known for featuring short, monster-fighting series such as Go! Godman and Greenman. It was a staple of Japanese programming for young audiences, providing a daily dose of heroic adventures and monster battles
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