Note: This Chapter is Re-Translated on 6 / 15 / 2025
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Chapter 28: A Fortunate Mistake, A Magus' Delight
As the film reached its end and the bittersweet melody played softly in the background, the credits began to roll slowly up the screen.
At the very top, in bold, striking letters was one unmistakable line:
"A Film by Shinji Matou."
Shibamatsu stared at the name for a long moment. Then he turned to his companions and said,
"He's… amazing."
He struggled for words—there were just too many emotions stirred by the film. Too many thoughts. Too many moments that refused to fade from memory.
Finally, all he managed to say was:
"If he ever makes another movie, I'm going to see it no matter what. This… this changed the way I see cinema. I used to think the only reason to go to the theater anymore was to watch some actress strip on screen, but now…"
"I feel the same," a female magus beside him chimed in, eyes sparkling with excitement.
"That blue-haired young man in the movie... that was Shinji Matou himself, right? He's not just handsome—he's brilliant. No wonder the Clock Tower elites are all fawning over him."
"Yeah… that was a good film."
As Shibamatsu stood up and stretched, ready to leave, he suddenly stopped in his tracks. A pained look appeared on his face, as if he'd just remembered something utterly dreadful.
"Hey… did anyone actually take notes on the magecraft rituals used in the movie?"
The air froze for a moment. The enthusiasm on their faces was instantly replaced by horror—the kind of horror known only to students who just realized their homework was due today.
"Uhh…"
The excited girl from earlier quickly lowered her eyes, visibly shaken.
"I wrote down the first one… but after that, I got too into the movie and… forgot."
Another companion hesitantly raised his hand with a sheepish look.
"I got a few lines at the start, but that's about it…"
Shibamatsu snatched the paper and skimmed through it.
"—This is barely half a page!"
His face fell faster than a house of cards in a hurricane.
And they weren't alone.
All around the theater, second-generation magi were reacting with the same dawning horror. The whole place turned into a classroom full of kids who just realized the summer was over and they hadn't even started their assignments.
"Does anyone actually write anything down?"
"Lend me your notes! I'll copy it, I swear!"
"I'm from the Takiizaki family! Please! Help a fellow out!"
The theater turned into utter chaos.
Watching the whole scene unfold, Aoko Aozaki couldn't help but stifle a laugh.
"Hey, Alice," she said, elbowing her friend lightly.
"What do you think they even came here for, anyway?"
"So dumb," Alice replied curtly, her lips twitching like she was barely holding in a smile. Then, with a crisp snap, she shut her notebook.
"A bunch of idiots," she added flatly.
"Can't they just… watch it again?"
Shibamatsu and his friends—who had been within earshot—froze.
Then, realization struck them like a bolt of lightning.
Right! Why not just watch it again?
"It's still early. One more showing won't hurt," Shibamatsu said without waiting for confirmation. He made the executive decision on the spot.
"Hold my stuff. I'm going to grab tickets."
And with that, he bolted out of the theater like a man on a mission.
Meanwhile, out in the lobby, a staff member from Bandai was standing by with a stack of post-film surveys in hand. He'd been waiting patiently for the theater to empty out, ready to collect audience feedback for the upcoming marketing campaign.
Seeing someone finally come out, he hurried forward.
"Excuse me, sir! I'm conducting a survey and—"
"MOVE!"
Shibamatsu didn't even slow down. He brushed past the poor staffer like a gust of wind and dashed straight for the box office.
"…What the hell was that about?"
The survey agent stood there, dumbfounded. He blinked at the empty hallway in confusion.
According to the schedule, the movie should have ended by now. But none of the audience was leaving—what was going on in there?
Just when the Bandai staffer had finally spotted someone exiting the theater, he'd hurried over to hand them the survey—only for the guy to completely ignore him and sprint straight toward the ticket counter.
"Wait… don't tell me he hated the movie so much he's demanding a refund?"
But that theory crumbled almost immediately.
The so-called angry customer?
He bought more tickets. A whole stack of them.
And then, more audience members began trickling out of the theater—each heading straight to the box office. From the snippets of conversation the staffer overheard, and the tickets being issued, one thing became increasingly clear:
They were buying tickets to watch Fate/Stay Night again.
Immediately.
"What the…?"
The poor survey guy just stood there in stunned silence.
Sure, people rewatch movies all the time. That wasn't rare.
But an entire crowd rushing back in for a second viewing right after the first—like it was the most natural thing in the world?
This was a first.
"This movie's gonna blow up!"
He whipped out his phone in a rush, excitedly reporting the situation to his manager.
And it wasn't just this one theater.
All across Japan, the handful of cinemas granted early Fate/Stay Night screenings were seeing the same bizarre trend unfold.
Audiences—especially young magi—who had gotten too immersed in the story the first time and forgot to record the magecraft sequences (aka, their homework), were now scrambling to watch it again.
Sure, it wasn't entirely out of love—it was more like academic desperation—but from the perspective of Bandai's field agents and theater staff, it didn't matter.
The audience was engaged.
To them, this kind of repeat attendance was the best sign imaginable:
Fate/Stay Night was on the brink of a breakout hit.
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"Got it. Thank you, Udagawa-san."
Click
Shinji Matou ended the call and began pacing slowly around the living room, his expression shifting from complex emotion to calm composure.
There were only twenty-five theaters doing the early screenings, so the day-one box office figures were already in. Udagawa Nao had been kind enough to call him first thing in the morning with the numbers.
The results… weren't exactly encouraging.
In fact, compared to the mega-blockbusters of Shinji's past life, the earnings were downright depressing.
Fate/Stay Night didn't even crack the Top 20 on the daily box office chart.
He scratched his head with a sigh.
Yeah… that hurt.
But then came the good news—news that had brought a flicker of hope back into his eyes.
Though total attendance was low, the audience response was overwhelmingly positive. Nearly a third of viewers had immediately bought another ticket and watched it again.
Out of the 1,543 survey responses Bandai had collected, a staggering 1,183 had rated the movie as "Excellent." Another 192 marked it "Good."
The number of "Poor" responses?
Fewer than 15.
The verdict from viewers was clear:
Fate/Stay Night was a hit in their hearts.
Sure, not every well-received film translated into box office success.
But with such strong word-of-mouth coming out of these early screenings, Shinji knew he had something powerful—something he could use.
Udagawa Nao had made it clear on the phone that If Fate/Stay Night's reputation held steady, Bandai would absolutely commit more resources to its promotion.
That was great news.
—But with Bandai's notoriously conservative marketing strategy, Shinji had no idea how much they'd be willing to increase.
"Ugh… it's all about leverage in this industry," he muttered, raking his fingers through his hair.
It was frustrating—deeply frustrating—not to hold the reins himself.
"Shinji."
He turned.
"…Ojii-chan?"
At the doorway stood Zouken Matou, leaning on his cane as always, though his old eyes were unusually gentle today.
"You've done wonderfully, my dear grandson," he said with a rare smile.
"Far beyond what I expected. This film of yours—it's magnificent. As a mere layman, I'd say it deserves a place in cinematic history. Honestly, I didn't want to leave my seat for a single second."
"…Ojii-chan…"
Shinji stared at him for a moment, emotions swirling in his chest.
Then he muttered dryly, "Didn't you leave halfway through because the sound system was too loud?"
"Hehe~ you've got to be a bit more considerate of an old man's heart, you know."
Zouken Matou chuckled, tapping his cane lightly on the floor as if nothing had happened—completely unfazed by his grandson calling him out.
Shinji let out a helpless sigh as he looked at his grandfather, who at the moment resembled a mischievous child more than an ancient magus.
"…Fine. Thanks for your support, Ojii-chan."
Truth be told, Shinji was keenly aware that without Zouken's unconditional backing, no matter how talented he was, there was no way he could've been entrusted with directing a full-scale film at his age.
For a grandfather who had gone so far just for him, Shinji's heart was filled with nothing but gratitude.
"Don't put so much pressure on yourself," Zouken said, tone soft. "You're still young. Even if this project fails, you've got time to bounce back."
"I know."
Shinji nodded firmly.
Youth is his greatest advantage. Even if Fate/Stay Night completely bombed at the box office, he could still make a living directing special effects for other magi, slowly building a reputation until he was ready to return to the director's chair.
In his previous life, director Koichi Sakamoto had taken a similar path in the tokusatsu industry—starting with effects and action direction before making it big. And Shinji had one clear edge over that guy:
His dialogue scenes were way better.
Still, even with a solid backup plan, Shinji couldn't shake the anxiety building up inside him. Genius or not, he was still human. And right now, that anxiety had nowhere to go.
"If only I were still at the Clock Tower…"
He muttered to himself with a wistful sigh.
If he were still in London, he could've easily called up some cute junior magi girl, spent three wild nights blowing off steam, and waited for the opening week results with a relaxed smile.
But alas—he was in Fuyuki now.
Being watched from above by his elders, from below by his little sister, and flanked on all sides by Arturia, Archer, and a few other overly judgmental Servants.
With all this pressure, and a shred of decency left to his name, Shinji couldn't exactly party it up like he did back in Britain.
"…Which means there's only one thing I can do. I need to—"
Before he could finish that thought, Zouken casually tossed a newspaper into his hands.
It wasn't a regular one either—it was a scholarly publication, printed specifically for the magus community.
"Since you look like you're about to burst, I figured this might cheer you up a bit."
"Huh?"
Shinji unfolded the paper… and nearly fell off the couch when he saw the bolded headline on the front page:
"On the Practical Feasibility of the Gem Magecraft Used in the Film Fate/Stay Night"
"Pffffttt—!!!"
Shinji's eyes nearly popped out of his skull.
"W-WHAT?!?!"