Fate/My Villain Simulations

"Idiot."

Ishtar waved her hand in irritation, her voice edged with frustration. "How many times must I say it? I don't need your protection."

She had said it many times. Over and over, in fact. If she repeated it once more, she feared it would turn into nothing more than hollow noise.

"Stop being so stubborn, alright? You're fine in every other way—truly—but why are you always like this when it comes to things like this?"

Susa could tell from the sharpness of her voice that she was angry.

Yeah, Ishtar was troubled, deeply so, by Susa's unyielding persistence.

After all, this was not new behavior for him. To Ishtar, Susa had always been this way—unyielding, unwavering, immovable in his convictions.

As she stood there, memories stirred and rose to the surface of her mind. Slowly, yet with a steady insistence, she recalled when she saw this child for the first time.

Truthfully, the day Ishtar had learned of the Susa uprising—the day she had stormed into Gilgamesh's palace—was far from the first time she had seen Susa.

As a goddess, no matter how aloof or careless Ishtar could appear, there were still moments when she turned her divine attention to her temple. She would watch from afar, unseen and unknowable, peering into the workings of her sacred halls.

Her reluctance to visit her temples, particularly in Uruk, stemmed from Gilgamesh's coronation. For nearly a decade, she had not once set foot inside her temple walls. To the people of Uruk, it might have seemed as though their guardian deity had abandoned them entirely—perhaps even vanished into the afterlife.

However, her absence did not mean her gaze could not reach them. Though her visits were no longer physical, she had found other, more subtle ways to observe the world within her palace.

More than ten years ago, on one seemingly ordinary day, Ishtar had once again turned her divine eye toward her temple. She watched, as she often did, for anything that might spark her interest.

What she saw first was predictable—familiar sights that filled the temple day after day. Men and women seeking pleasure, indulgence flowing like a ceaseless stream.

As the goddess of love, she couldn't make fault in her devotees for seeking love waters. After all, indulgence was simply part of the order of things.

At most, she chose to ignore it.

To the high and lofty gods, mortal indulgence seemed as insignificant as a troupe of monkeys performing an inelegant dance—pointless, pitiful, and altogether mundane.

Ishtar had never cared for such things. Her curiosity rarely lingered on the ordinary.

She continued searching, scanning the temple's halls with eyes. She sought something—anything—that might entertain her, something that might lift her spirits. A hymn sung with devotion, a quiet act of reverence—any spark of beauty or interest would not go unnoticed, nor unrewarded.

Then, as Ishtar's gaze shifted yet again, she saw him.

A boy—pale, delicate, and unassuming—walked into her temple.

It was the first time Ishtar had ever seen such an endearing human child.

Her curiosity piqued, and despite herself, she couldn't help but take a second look.

She watched with silent intrigue as the boy—small and pale—was chosen as a candidate for priesthood. She observed as he knelt to pray to her, a solemn devotion in his every gesture. His hymns were unlike the traditional verses she had grown accustomed to hearing; they were new, original—creations of the boy himself.

Ishtar quietly committed his name to memory—Susa.

From that day forward, she started stalking, ahem, observing Susa. She watched as Susa tirelessly refined his hymns, each iteration more heartfelt than the last. She watched him grow, not just in body but in spirit. Unlike her own solitary nature, Susa possessed an innate gentleness that allowed him to forge bonds effortlessly. People flocked to him, drawn to his warmth and sincerity. He earned their trust with ease, and Ishtar could only observe from her unseen perch as he joked with his companions.

It was then she heard him say something that made her smile.

"If I marry someday, naturally, my bride would have to be the goddess Ishtar herself!"

She'd been amused then—though perhaps just a little embarrassed—but as time passed, she noticed the boy change.

When Susa learned that the new king was Gilgamesh, everything shifted. The frail, delicate boy had become resolute. After a fateful encounter with Gilgamesh, where he experienced the king's arrogance and disregard, Susa turned his pain into determination. He began devoting himself to combat training, day after day, without reprieve. His frail body hardened. His resolve deepened. He rallied priests and worked tirelessly to quell rebellion, striving to restore Ishtar's status as their patron goddess.

She watched all of it—the transformation of a weak, slight boy into a young man of undeniable strength.

Ishtar had borne witness to every moment.

That was why, when Susa had been captured, she had intervened without hesitation, rushing to Uruk to save him. From the very beginning, she had known that she possessed a follower unlike any other—a boy who, even as a child, had declared her to be his ideal, his goddess. Time had proven the truth of his loyalty.

That was why she saved him. It was why Susa alone was able to become a demigod.

However, when she finally stood before Susa, witnessing up close the changes in him over the past two years—especially his physical transformation—Ishtar felt something strange stir in her chest. The goddess of love wanted to shield her eyes with both hands, as though to protect her divine dignity, but curiosity betrayed her, and she peeked through her fingers nonetheless.

But then, as the faint, unmistakable scent of sweat drifted toward her, Ishtar could no longer hold back. Embarrass! So, embarrass! And to cover it, she began reprimanding him.

"Why are you always like this?"

But Susa's eyes lit up in response, his expression gentle yet unwavering. Taking a step closer, he spoke earnestly, "If it's for you, I would gladly remain single-minded."

"Why? Just why…"

Ishtar paused, the word slipping from her lips before she realized it. A sudden seriousness filled her tone as she looked at him, waiting for an answer.

Susa straightened, his posture solid, his gaze steady as stone. His voice, however, carried something soft—something undeniably genuine.

"Naturally, because you are the goddess of my faith, the one who saved me from my death, the teacher who taught me how to wield a spear. And, most importantly—you are my beloved goddess, Ishtar."

Beloved?

So Susa remembered. After all these years, those wild, childish words—spoken in jest, yet now carried like a sacred truth—remained etched in his heart.

Ishtar's mind spun as she studied him, scrutinizing his every word, his every glance. And yet, no matter how she looked at it, Susa seemed like someone who would defy all tradition, someone bold enough to chase after the forbidden.

But did it matter?

There was no falsehood in his eyes—none whatsoever. Ishtar, wielding the authority granted to her as the goddess of love, peered into the sincerity of his vow. It reverberated with a power so rare, so fervent, that even the divine authority seemed to echo its truth.

This was no ordinary oath. It was an unshakable promise—one that would endure even if the heavens fell and the earth swallowed the skies.

"Very well," Ishtar said as she stepped toward him, her expression inscrutable. "If you can maintain this loyalty, then I am not unwilling to give you a chance. I will grant you my power. The real deal power—but you must prove to me that you can protect me."

Before Susa could respond, a soft sound—smack—filled the space between them.

Warmth.

Soft and sudden, her lips pressed against his.

The kiss lingered in warmth. Susa froze, his senses overwhelmed, as the faint, delicate fragrance unique to the goddess filled his lungs. Instinctively, he inhaled deeply, as though committing this moment to memory.

Time became meaningless.

 As their tongues met, moving in a slow, a pulse of divine energy surged into him, flowing like fire through his veins, stronger and more vigorous than ever before.

Susa closed his eyes, overwhelmed by the sensation, savoring the warmth that spread throughout his body. He could feel himself changing, growing stronger in ways both physical and spiritual.

When at last he opened his eyes, the goddess he worshipped—the woman who had saved him, reprimanded him, and kissed him—was gone.

Vanished without a trace.

[Your power has been enhanced once again.]

[As the goddess of love, Ishtar requires first-love water as a medium to transfer energy. This is determined by the nature of her divinity.]

[But in your day-to-day thoughts, you can't help but recall that softness and find yourself captivated once more.]

[Long live Ishtar!]

[That's what you think in your heart.]

[On the second day of training, you do not see Ishtar's figure, but you feel as though someone is watching you.]

[The third day, the fourth day, the fifth day... It continues like this. Two whole weeks pass before Ishtar appears before you again, telling you she had been busy with other matters and had only just returned.]

[It is complete BS but you never said anything.]

[However, the atmosphere between the two of you becomes exceedingly subtle.]