Rin lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. The dim glow of the city filtered through her curtains, casting faint patterns on the walls. Sleep had eluded her entirely. She hadn't closed her eyes for even a moment since last night, her mind relentlessly replaying Tony and Pepper's words over and over again.
Adoption.
It should have been simple. A normal girl in her position—an orphan given a second chance—might have cried tears of joy or rushed into their arms, grateful to finally have a family again. But Rin Tohsaka was no normal girl, and her past refused to let her accept such an offer so easily.
She hadn't stepped out of her room all day, trapped in the confines of her own thoughts. Her past. Her bloodline. Her identity as a Tohsaka. Did she even have the right to take on a new name? To leave behind the legacy her family had built over generations?
Two centuries ago, the Tohsaka family had stood among the pillars of magecraft, alongside the Makiri and Einzbern families, establishing the Holy Grail War in Fuyuki City. It was her ancestor, Nagato Tohsaka, who had provided their land as the battleground for the ritual, securing their place in history. Unlike the others, the Tohsakas had managed to balance power and prestige without succumbing to corruption or degradation. Her family had always walked a fine line between serving the Mage's Association and maintaining their autonomy, a difficult but necessary struggle for survival in a world where true power was often hidden beneath layers of secrecy and deception.
Rin had been raised with this knowledge. From the moment she could understand words, her father, Tokiomi Tohsaka, had drilled into her the importance of their legacy. She was not merely a girl—she was a magus. The future of the Tohsaka lineage rested on her shoulders. Magecraft was to come before all else. Her own interests, desires, and emotions were secondary. It was a heavy burden for a child, but she had shouldered it without complaint. She had admired her father. She had believed in his vision.
And then he had died.
The Fourth Holy Grail War had taken everything from her. Her father. Her home. Her mother, left a hollow shell of the woman she once was. And in the aftermath, she had been left in the care of Kirei Kotomine, a man who—at the time—she had believed to be a trusted family friend. He had guided her in her studies, watched over her, and ensured she continued on the path of a magus. Only later did she learn the truth about his role in her father's death, about the twisted nature of the man who had been her so-called guardian.
Despite it all, she had persevered. She had pushed herself to become the perfect student, to earn the admiration of her peers while secretly dealing with the crippling weight of her family's expectations. She had kept her emotions buried, her struggles hidden, because that was what it meant to be a Tohsaka.
But here, in this world, none of that should have mattered.
She was no longer in Fuyuki. The Holy Grail War did not exist here. Magecraft was a secret she alone carried, with no association to bind her and no rigid traditions dictating her every move. And yet, she still felt the weight of her past pressing down on her chest, suffocating her.
Tony and Pepper had been nothing but kind to her. In the two years she had lived with them, they had never once tried to force her into a role she didn't want. They didn't demand perfection. They didn't expect her to uphold some grand family tradition. With them, she was just... Rin. And yet, the very idea of taking their name, of truly becoming their daughter, terrified her more than any battle she had ever fought.
Would accepting their offer mean she was betraying her father's memory? Would it mean she was abandoning the Tohsaka name—the name she had fought so hard to protect? Or was she just clinging to a past that no longer had any meaning in this world?
She exhaled, shutting her eyes briefly before turning onto her side, curling slightly inward. Her fingers clutched at the blanket, gripping it tightly as if it could somehow anchor her to reality.
Did she even deserve this?
For the first time in a long while, Rin Tohsaka felt truly lost.
Eventually, Rin sat up, swung her legs over the side of the bed, and ran a hand through her hair. Enough thinking. She wasn't the type to wallow in indecision. If she was going to deal with this, she'd do it head-on.
Steeling herself, she stepped out of her room and made her way to the living room, where Pepper was already seated with a cup of tea in hand. The moment she saw Rin, her expression softened, though there was a flicker of concern in her eyes.
"Rin, you don't have to rush into anything," Pepper said gently. "We don't expect an answer right away. Take your time."
Rin folded her arms, tilting her head slightly. "Tch. You think I'm the type to sit around agonizing over a decision forever? That's not my style."
Pepper smiled, though she still watched Rin carefully. "No, but I also know you overthink things more than you let on."
Rin clicked her tongue, looking away. "...Maybe. But I'm not changing my mind. I've decided."
Pepper set down her cup and met Rin's gaze with quiet patience. "And?"
Rin exhaled sharply, then crossed her arms. "Fine. You win. I accept."
For a moment, Pepper just looked at her, then let out a soft chuckle. "You make it sound like a competition."
Rin huffed. "Everything is a competition. And I don't lose."
Pepper smiled warmly. "Then I guess we win together."
Rin rolled her eyes but didn't hide the small smirk tugging at her lips. "Yeah, yeah. Just don't expect me to start calling you 'Mom' or anything."
Pepper laughed. "Fair enough."
Despite her words, Rin felt a strange warmth settle in her chest—one she didn't entirely dislike.