[Starfall Wishing Rocket]
Shirou Muramasa was not impressed by the item. Most of Doraemon's gadgets did exactly what their names suggested, so it wasn't hard to guess what this one did.
"Shirou, if you have any wish, you can use this [Starfall Wishing Rocket] to make it come true! Then you won't have to risk yourself in the Holy Grail War, which sounds really dangerous!" Doraemon held the rocket high in his round hands, looking very pleased.
"Doraemon…"
Shirou's heart stirred at the words, but his goal wasn't simply to make a wish. He aimed to win the Fourth Holy Grail War itself. The Grail was just an accessory to his true purpose—and he had little faith in its corrupted power anyway.
After all, the Holy Grail had been tainted by the "evil of this world" since the Third War.
Miyamoto Musashi listened to Doraemon's cheerful explanation with skepticism. A gadget that could grant any wish? Impossible. Legends across history spoke of wish-granting artifacts, and the Grail was among the most famous. Yet always, a price had to be paid. A wish without cost was a contradiction.
Take King Arthur's tale: the Holy Grail's appearance drove countless knights of the Round Table to ruin in pursuit of it. In the end, three knights found it—Bors, Parsifal, and Galahad. But only Galahad, purest of heart, could hold it… and he had no desire for it.
So when Doraemon claimed the rocket could grant any wish without condition, Musashi frowned. Such a thing was too good to be true.
Still—there was no mistaking his intent. It wasn't about the gadget's function, but about wanting to protect Shirou.
Like a child offering a pebble as if it were a priceless jewel to comfort someone they loved.
Would anyone believe it? Most adults would only laugh.
But if that child was Doraemon…
Musashi tightened her grip on Shirou's arm. "Is there really such a tool that can grant all wishes?"
"Of course!" Doraemon beamed. "Just write your wish on this slip, attach it, and launch it. If Musashi also has a wish, she can try too."
Musashi's eyes softened, then she shook her head firmly. "My wish was fulfilled the moment I was summoned here. I have nothing else I truly want. Better to give this chance to my Master."
Leaning close, she whispered into Shirou's ear with a mischievous smile, "But you'd better thank me properly. This favor is worth at least ten bowls of udon."
Shirou gave her a flat look. "Do you want me to pledge eternal love instead?"
Musashi's eyes lit up. "Oh? Master, are you willing?"
"Keep dreaming."
"What a pity…" she sighed, though the sparkle in her eyes said she'd happily take his words at face value.
Doraemon waved his paws. "Musashi, seriously, you can write any wish you like. And the [Starfall Wishing Rocket] has no usage limit!"
"Eh!?" Musashi blinked in shock.
"You're joking. A wish-granting machine without limits or conditions?"
Doraemon shook his head with uncharacteristic seriousness. "When it comes to Shirou's safety, I wouldn't joke."
A wish machine with infinite uses? Compared to that, what was the Holy Grail?
Finally, Shirou asked, "Then why is it called the [Starfall Wishing Rocket]? Does it have something to do with shooting stars?"
"Of course!" Doraemon said proudly. "It's modeled after rockets sold during festivals—you write your wish, launch it, and it flies toward the stars. Ahhh—!"
His round face twisted with sudden panic.
"What's wrong?"
"I forgot! This version only works during the festival night it was made for! Otherwise, it won't activate!" Doraemon's body sagged as he sat down in defeat. "I can't believe I forgot something so important…"
Shirou knelt beside him, patting his head gently. "Don't worry. I didn't join the Holy Grail War just to make a wish."
"But still…" Doraemon's eyes welled up. "I wanted to help you."
"Doraemon, have confidence in yourself. And believe in me."
Those words steadied the little blue robot-cat. He sniffled, wiped his eyes, and examined the rocket more closely. His ears twitched. "…Wait. This isn't the [Starfall Wishing Rocket] after all. It's the Anti-Starfall Wishing Rocket. Any wish written on it gets reversed."
Musashi blinked. "Reversed? How do you mean?"
"For example," Doraemon explained sheepishly, "if you wish for world peace, the opposite happens: the world gets destroyed. Whatever you want, the inverse is granted."
"…" Shirou's forehead was slick with cold sweat.
"…That's terrifying," Musashi muttered.
Yet even this "prank" tool was technically a wishing machine. One only had to phrase the wish in reverse to get the desired result. Wish for ruin to gain salvation. Wish for loss to gain abundance.
And if some poor fool used it without knowing…
Doraemon shuffled nervously, pulling more items from his pocket. "This is just one of several. In total, I've found five gadgets capable of granting wishes—but all have flaws."
He placed them out in a row.
"[Wishing Star]: grants any wish, but always misunderstands, causing disasters. Safer to throw away.[Wish-Granting Mallet]: works, but with… questionable methods.[Fairy Robot]: can grant wishes, but not for the person using it.[Aladdin's Lamp]: can summon a genie—but there's no genie inside, so you have to capture one first."
One by one, he explained them with growing frustration.
Musashi could only gape. "What are you, some kind of disguised god? Since when did wish-granting items become this common?"
"I'm not a raccoon cat!" Doraemon huffed, red-faced, grabbing the lamp and shouting, "Miyamoto Musashi!"
Suddenly, a force dragged Musashi into darkness. Her vision spun, and when it cleared, she found herself standing in a void.