Miyamoto Musashi spotted a familiar figure in the courtyard not far away.Blue and white fur, a perfectly round body, and that kind face — watching the red-haired child standing in the center.
The magical raccoon cat Doraemon.Even his expressions look bizarre!
Musashi was stunned that she could even read a raccoon cat's face, but still walked forward and asked:
"Doraemon, who is that child? Why is he here in this world?"
Doraemon gave her a look that could only be described as idiotic."Who else could it be? It's obvious, isn't it?"
Musashi glanced back at the boy with red hair, then shook her head hesitantly.
"…That's Shirou," Doraemon said flatly.
Musashi dropped the snacks in her hands and waved them wildly."No, no, no! My Master is a handsome young man with white hair!"
"What are you talking about? Shirou is only six years old. This is what he actually looks like right now."
"…"
Musashi's brain stalled.
Her Master… only six years old!?
She remembered the image of Shirou Muramasa as a dignified, white-haired young man. And yet… six years old!?
Appearances might deceive, but the contract between Servant and Master could not.
Musashi tried to reach her Master through the bond — and felt nothing. To be precise, the contract was gone.
Her heart sank."…The Master is dead!?"
That was her first thought. In the Holy Grail's knowledge, only death could sever the contract so completely.
She stared again at the red-haired boy in the courtyard, unable to accept that this was her Master."Doraemon… where is he? Did my Master leave the Mirror World? My contract with him has been cut."
Doraemon sighed at her serious expression. If he didn't explain, she might cause some real trouble.
"No, really — that is Shirou."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a gadget."This is called the [Time Wrap]. It can display an object in its past or future form. Earlier, Shirou used it to accelerate his body to the point where he looked eighteen."
Musashi blinked. She had seen Doraemon use that cloth before — wrapping Shirou to heal his wounds. She had simply assumed it was a miraculous healing tool.
But something that could manipulate time itself…? That was practically true magic — the kind that demanded impossible prices.
Doraemon, seeing her disbelief, waved the cloth casually."Don't believe me? Try it yourself."
After a long pause, Musashi gave in.
The [Time Wrap] unfolded, wrapped around her — and when it was lifted, Miyamoto Musashi gasped.
She was no longer a wandering swordswoman. No longer even a Servant. She was… a girl, bright-eyed and awkward, with simpler clothes and no blades at her waist. Her body had none of the refinement forged through years of training.
"This feeling…"
Yes. This was truly her, before everything.
"Well?" Doraemon asked smugly. "Do you believe me now?"
Musashi stared at the blue cat in shock. Her pride softened, and she spoke in a tone of reverence:"…I thought my travels through countless worlds had prepared me for anything. But Lord Doraemon… who are you really?"
"Just an ordinary child-rearing robot," he said with false modesty, though his whiskers twitched with pride.
Musashi quickly used the [Time Wrap] to restore her usual self. Her Servant form returned, the contract faintly flickering back into place.
She gazed at the red-haired boy in silence. Last night, she had drawn her blade against him — a child under seven — and he had still defeated her before she could land a single strike.
She began to question her very life. Years of wandering, countless duels, endless victories… what did any of it mean?
And yet, as she watched Shirou think deeply, recalling his calm words and actions… she smiled.
"Hey, this isn't so bad. Even if Master is just a child… he doesn't act like one. That contrast is kind of cute…"
Beside her, Doraemon froze. The swordswoman's silly grin and ambiguous words made his eyes narrow dangerously. His paw quietly slipped into his four-dimensional pocket.
If necessary… he would arrest this suspicious swordswoman immediately.
To Doraemon, Musashi's gaze wasn't admiration — it was hunger. A predator's look.
Sensing the suspicion, Musashi coughed, adjusted her breathing with Niten Ichiryu's [Fifth Style], and protested:"W-wait! Don't look at me like that! Even if I like beautiful boys, I'd never— I mean, not with a six-year-old— Wait, what am I even saying!?"
…Yes. Miyamoto Musashi did like beautiful boys. But to her, it was more an appreciation of purity and beauty itself. And children, after all, were the purest of all.
Right now, Shirou, focused and enlightened under the [Efficiency Pill], radiated a purity that to Musashi's eyes was… dangerously irresistible.
Doraemon's eyes sharpened even more.
Panicking, Musashi picked up the snacks she had dropped earlier."B-by the way! I found some food outside! Lord Doraemon, would you like some?"
Doraemon squinted suspiciously—until he spotted the golden wrapper.
"…Is that… Dorayaki?"
"Ah—"
"WHO CARES ABOUT— Wait, IT'S DORAYAKI! GIMME!"
The blue cat, who had been on the verge of tackling her, instantly abandoned all suspicion and dove for the treat, unwrapping it with trembling paws.
Though he didn't need food — his atomic reactor provided endless energy — Doraemon's creators had given him the ability to eat, so he could be more of a friend than a machine.
And Dorayaki was his greatest joy.
Musashi watched him devour it with a blissful smile on his furry face, and something softened inside her.
She finally understood why Shirou could call this strange raccoon his friend.
For all his bizarre powers, Doraemon was simple, kind, and pure. A companion anyone would be glad to have.