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“Servant, Francis Xavier. Huh…? I’m not sure why I’m in this body. And my class is… Moon Cancer? That’s weird. Well, I’ll do the best I can, Master.”
A new servant being summoned was always a big deal in Chaldea. Even now, with the number of Servants reaching multiples of hundred, any new face was certain to be the talk of gossip.
When Gilgamesh first saw her walking through the halls, he gave a raised eyebrow of approval. The exact events were vague, but the sight of that face itself remained clear in his heart. And so, as she passed him, he gave a simple comment of, “I didn’t expect to see you here as well, mongrel.”
Both the new Servant and Ritsuka turned to look at him.
“Uh, sorry…” the new girl said, giving him a confused glance. “Who are you?”
“...” Gilgamesh frowned, feeling his arms tighten in their crossed position.
Ritsuka, quite used to subtle tells of Gilgamesh’s mood shifts, quickly raised up a hand to mediate. “Oh, are you familiar with her vessel, Your Majesty?”
Gilgamesh paused for a moment, looking between his Master and this girl which made his chest tighten. It was another version of him, one he could only catch glimpses of across the fabrics of space and time, that had known her. It wasn’t so strange that she had no memory. For any Servant to remember was an exception, and as a pseudo it wasn’t uncommon for the host to be overwritten completely. So then why…
Why did her empty gaze make his jaw clench like this?
“It’s no matter,” he said, dismissing the issue with a wave of his hand. “Run along. I have no business with some obscure saint like you. But know that I am Gilgamesh, king of all heroes. Address me as such and know your place.”
The one known as Francis Xavier nodded. And while Ritsuka looked quite ready to push her along and avoid further confrontation, she stood in place for another moment and gave a light, casual smile. “Well, then it’s nice to meet you, Gil.”
“...”
As the pair walked away, Gilgamesh remained frozen in place. Something deep inside him had just clicked. An ache that reminded him far too much of a certain night on a rainy plain took hold of his lungs, this throat, any part of him that ever touched that name. He stood there for another moment, then returned to spirit form.