Re:Zero - Echoes Of Fate

A prolonged hush settled over the room as Crusch silently mulled over the full weight of Subaru's words. It wasn't the kind of silence born from awkwardness or disbelief, but one heavy with consideration—the kind of pause where thoughts converge, suspicions are evaluated, and judgment begins to form. Still, it didn't last long. After only a few moments, the initial shadow of uncertainty lifted from her features. In its place, a sharper, more resolute look emerged, as though her inner doubts had crystallized into a focused need for answers. Her posture straightened, eyes locking on Subaru's with unwavering intent, and she resumed speaking in a voice that balanced authority with curiosity:

"There's another matter I need to bring up—something of considerable importance. Lately, we've been hearing troubling and extraordinary rumors. It's said that you, Natsuki Subaru, have come face-to-face with not one, but three of the Sin Archbishops... and defeated them. That sort of claim doesn't just pass unnoticed, you understand. So tell me directly: how much truth is there in these stories? Did such battles really occur, or are we dealing with exaggerated tales that have grown wild in the telling, shaped by public awe and fear?"

Subaru's lips twitched into a faint smile—but it wasn't one of comfort or reassurance. No, this expression was distant, carrying a biting sarcasm beneath its surface and tinted with a fatigue that ran deeper than physical tiredness. It was the look of someone who had seen and survived too much, whose victories had come at a high price. His eyes narrowed slightly, more in reflection than defiance, and then he replied with careful precision.

"They're true," he said, each syllable shaped as if weighed beforehand. "When I fought the Archbishop of Pride, Julius Juukulius stood by my side. You know who he is—the 'Finest Knight' in the Kingdom. His presence alone should validate my claim. If a man like Julius says something happened, would you really question his word? He isn't someone who trades in falsehoods or theatrics. He witnessed it with his own eyes."

The atmosphere in the room shifted subtly, thickening with an almost tangible gravity. The subtle movements of those nearby stilled, and even the faintest rustle of fabric or breath seemed to fade. Subaru's calm yet forceful demeanor left little room for doubt, and the unwavering clarity in his tone carried an unspoken challenge. He continued, his voice steady:

"Now, regarding the Archbishops of Lust and Greed... that story's a little more complicated."

Before he could elaborate, a familiar voice slithered through his consciousness like smoke: Flugel—his voice dry and laced with theatrical offense, echoing directly in Subaru's mind with that insufferable blend of sarcasm and superiority.

"Excuse me, I believe it was I who dealt with them. And here you are, soaking in the applause. Honestly, Subaru, you could at least toss me a bone of gratitude. Or are you planning to take full credit while I fade conveniently into the shadows?"

Subaru resisted the urge to smirk. It took effort not to break into laughter, but he held the moment with practiced control. Internally, he rolled his eyes at Flugel's dramatics, but outwardly, he gave no sign of the mental exchange. He shifted slightly, speaking again, his tone now laced with a more nuanced honesty:

"I came across the Archbishop of Lust in a region called Banan. Their primary goal wasn't to engage me in open combat—it was to kidnap Hikari. I wasn't their target, just an obstacle. They didn't want a confrontation; they wanted to delay me long enough to complete their mission. So no, I didn't defeat them in the traditional sense. I bought time. I disrupted their plan. That was enough."

He paused, then drew a slow breath before continuing.

"As for the Archbishop of Greed... If I'm being honest, there was no grand duel. No climactic showdown. I simply removed him from the scene—threw him far away, long enough to take Hikari and escape. It wasn't a battle of strength. It was a maneuver. A way out. Sometimes, surviving is the only victory you can aim for."

Crusch remained still, her expression tightening as her mind worked through his words. One hand rose almost unconsciously to her lips, where she began to gnaw gently on her thumbnail—a subtle tell that few would notice, but Subaru did. It was her unconscious habit when deeply engrossed in thought. Her eyes never left him, their weight sharp and measuring. She wasn't just listening—she was deciphering, dissecting, judging not only the truth of his tale but the man who spoke it. She wasn't one to be easily swayed by words alone, yet something in Subaru's voice—perhaps the blend of humility and burden, or the grim honesty behind the gloss of heroism—had planted a seed of belief.

"Lastly," she said, her gaze locked firmly onto Subaru, her voice calm but edged with curiosity, "I would like to ask you about the power weapon known as Duskveil. It is said Ricard Hoshin entrusted it to you. Could you clarify its authenticity and nature for us?"

Subaru remained still for a brief moment. His fingers gently brushed the heads of Beatrice and Hikari before he carefully lowered them from his lap. Their eyes, curious and innocent, glanced up at him as he rose to his feet. He took a slow breath and extended his right hand forward, his fingers spreading slightly as if grasping at something unseen. A pulse of dark energy shimmered in the air, and in that instant, Duskveil answered his call.

Twin daggers, sleek and menacing, emerged from the shadows. Their obsidian blades radiated an eerie glow—faintly pulsing, like a heartbeat trapped within steel. Even in the gentle lighting of the chamber, the weapons exuded a foreboding presence. A ghostly wind seemed to sweep through the room as the daggers materialized, as though the weapon itself breathed malevolence.

Crusch's eyes widened involuntarily. The proximity of such a dangerous artifact, coupled with the oppressive aura it emitted, sent a chill up her spine. Her inner thoughts rang loud and clear: If he truly wields that kind of power, then he's not just a potential ally... he's a force that could reshape the field entirely.

Wilhelm, seated beside her, reacted with the honed instincts of a seasoned warrior. His body subtly shifted, a hand twitching toward the hilt of his own sword, his knees tensing as if preparing to lunge. Yet he paused, restraining the reflex. Despite his discipline, he couldn't deny the sharp edge of fear that nicked at his composure. The aura Duskveil exuded was not merely that of a weapon—it was alive with will, with ancient intent.

Subaru caught their reactions, not with arrogance, but with a quiet certainty. A faint, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he spoke. "Yes. Ricard Hoshin did offer me Duskveil. But there was a condition—it would only become mine if I could summon it. If the weapon acknowledged me. It had to choose me first."

He let his words hang in the air, watching their expressions carefully before continuing. "I accepted that challenge. I put myself before its judgment. And the result is here for you to see." He raised the daggers slightly, the light reflecting off the curved edges like glimmers of shadow. "These beauties now belong to me."

As his statement concluded, Subaru lowered his hand, and with a soft breath, the daggers dissolved back into the shadows, retreating as silently as they had come. The change in the room was immediate—the pressure that had settled over everyone vanished like mist in the morning sun. A collective exhale followed, and several among the attendants shifted in their seats, unaware they'd been holding their breath.

Subaru returned to his seat in one fluid motion. Beatrice and Hikari, unbothered by the display, nestled back against him, their presence softening the atmosphere. With a faint tilt of his head and a barely concealed smirk, he turned his attention back to Crusch.

"So? Are we done with the interrogation now, Crusch-sama?" 

Crusch straightened slightly, her expression returning to one of poise, though a shadow of discomfort lingered in her eyes. She dipped her head politely, her gaze drifting momentarily away. "Calling it an interrogation feels unfair... but if that's how it was perceived, I offer my apologies. My only aim was to understand more—not to confront."

Subaru shrugged with casual grace, waving a hand dismissively. "It's all good. No offense taken. Please, go on with your meeting with Emilia-sama. I promise I'll keep quiet and behave—like a perfect background ornament."

A few chuckles rippled around the room, easing the tension. The meeting slowly regained its earlier rhythm. Yet Subaru, while physically present, allowed his mind to drift. The flood of political dialogue bored him to no end, filled with cryptic strategies and abstract negotiations he couldn't care less about. But he endured it, letting Flugel's sly inner commentary amuse him while he kept an ear on Beatrice's muffled whispers and Hikari's subtle fidgeting beside him.

His mind danced between focus and fatigue. Occasionally, he fielded a question with clever indifference, relying on Flugel's mental nudges to navigate the trickier inquiries. Despite his disinterest, he managed to present himself as competent—perhaps more than he had expected.

As the session drew to a close, and final decisions were settled, each guest was offered accommodations. The palace staff moved efficiently, directing attendees to their assigned quarters. Subaru took Beatrice and Hikari to his own room, ensuring they were comfortable and secure. He lingered a while, watching the two as they drifted off into gentle rest. Then, as the silence wrapped around him, his thoughts grew louder.

There were questions—many, relentless and tangled. Answers he needed. Truths he dreaded.

Without another word, he stepped out, the corridor dimly lit by amber sconces. His footsteps echoed softly on the stone floor, a rhythmic reminder of the uncertainty pacing within his chest. Each step toward Emilia's quarters was accompanied by the whisper of unresolved mysteries, following him like shadows that refused to disappear.

Emilia let out a long, weary sigh and collapsed into the bed with the weight of everything she hadn't said. Her silver hair spilled over the pillow like moonlight on snow. She didn't look at Subaru. Her gaze remained fixed on the ceiling, distant, fractured. When she finally spoke, her voice was low, trembling—wounded. It carried a pain that had been festering beneath the surface for far too long.

"Subaru... why did you leave so early? If you'd stayed with us, if you'd just been there... maybe things would have turned out differently. Being around you—it gave me strength, even when I didn't want to admit it."

Subaru remained silent for a moment, the atmosphere thick with tension. He eventually sat down in one of the chairs near the bed, the creak of the wood echoing faintly. Leaning back, he stared up at the ceiling, as though it might offer some kind of answer. The weight of her words pressed down on him like an invisible chain. He wanted to speak but couldn't trust his voice.

After a long pause, he finally broke the silence. His voice was restrained, deliberately calm, but there was a hardness underneath that betrayed his internal struggle:

"I needed to acquire some very specific materials for the invention I've been developing. They aren't easy to find. That meant going to the Hoshin Company. Anastasia had arranged the delivery for late afternoon. By now... it should be here."

Emilia's expression tensed. Her delicate features contorted with hurt and suspicion. Her brows knit tightly, and unshed tears shimmered in her violet eyes. She bit her lower lip before speaking again, her voice catching halfway through "Anastasia... again? You're always with her, Subaru. Always. It feels like you spend more time by her side than mine—and I thought... I thought you were supposed to be here for me."

Subaru exhaled slowly, eyes still closed. His head rested against the chair as if he were trying to disappear into it. When he spoke again, his tone was distant, almost devoid of life "It's work, Emilia. That's all. There's nothing between us. No feelings, no attachment. I don't feel that way about anyone."

Her eyes widened. Her heart felt like it had been struck. The knot in her throat became unbearable. Her voice broke, rising in pitch as anger, heartbreak, and years of unresolved emotions crashed over her "Don't say that! Don't pretend you feel nothing! You're always with her, laughing, talking, planning. And when I need you, when I'm hurting or scared—you're not there. You promised to protect me. But where are you, Subaru?! Why even bother coming back if you can't keep that promise?! What good are you to me then?!"

Subaru's eyes snapped open. Her words sliced through him like cold steel, familiar and haunting. He'd heard them before—not from Emilia, but from another time, another place. Back when he'd thrown himself into the royal selection without a plan, driven by desperation. When he'd fought Julius in a hopeless battle, all to prove something to himself... and to her. But it hadn't been enough. None of it had.

She hadn't seen the effort. She hadn't recognized the sacrifice. All he got in return was disappointment and isolation. And that day, the day he was left alone in the capital...

That wound had never healed.

Visions of the past surged in his mind. The first time he met Flugel—how everything began to change inside him. Subtly, at first. Like a whisper in his soul. But as time passed, the changes grew. He ignored them. Or maybe he embraced them.

And now, as if summoned by that very thought, Flugel emerged. His form shimmered into visibility, appearing only to Subaru. A ghost in the corner of the room, smiling with a predator's patience.

"You remember our first conversation, don't you?" Flugel's voice was soft, almost soothing, but it carried a dark undertone. "I warned you. I told you—this path you're on, there's no turning back. And now here you are, walking it willingly. Natsuki Subaru, the man who chooses pain to feel alive."

Subaru stood up slowly, his hands limp at his sides, fingers slightly curled as if gripping something invisible. His gaze locked onto Emilia. His voice, when it came, was level but raw—each word pulled from somewhere deep inside:

"You're right, Emilia. I failed. I wasn't there when you needed me most. That's on me. I'll take that blame. But you need to understand something—I'm not your knight. I never was. I'm not bound by chivalry or grand vows. I'm just a bodyguard. That was the agreement. To keep you safe. Nothing more."

He paused, stepping back, as if physically distancing himself from the growing chasm between them.

"Right now, everything the Emilia Faction is achieving—the recognition, the influence—it's because of the work I've done. The inventions, the negotiations, the sacrifices. I'm not just doing this for you. I'm doing it for all of them. For the people who believe in you. For those who fight under your banner. This... this isn't about love or devotion. It's about purpose."

He took a shaky breath. The glimmer of tears that had threatened to fall had vanished, but his voice cracked under the weight of what he had to say:

"So please... don't stand in my way. Don't make me choose between what I feel and what I must do. Because if I have to choose... I'm afraid of what I might become."

And just like that, the final piece of his resolve slipped into place. His expression hardened. His back straightened. But something fragile within him had broken. Maybe beyond repair.

Natsuki Subaru was not a hero. Not a knight in shining armor. He was just a man trying not to fall apart. And when that failed—he lashed out, spoke recklessly, tore through those around him with words sharper than blades.

But this time... he'd spoken not to wound, but to protect what little of himself remained.

Even if it meant letting go of the only hand he ever truly wanted to hold.

Emilia fell silent for a long, heavy moment after Subaru's explanation. Her eyes lowered, gaze fixated on some invisible point between her knees. Her shoulders trembled, only slightly at first, but then more visibly, as though some deep tremor had taken hold inside her. Her hands were clenched so tightly on her lap that her knuckles had gone white, and her breath came in shallow, quiet hitches. Her eyes glistened under the dim lighting. Was she crying silently? Or were those trembling hands and shoulders simply the echoes of disappointment, sorrow, and barely contained rage? No one could tell. Not even Subaru.

Her voice, when it came, was as cold and sharp as a blade drawn in winter. Her lips trembled as she lifted her gaze, tears brimming but not yet falling. Then she said the words that sliced through Subaru more cleanly than any weapon could:

"Leave me alone, Natsuki Subaru. Get out."

In that moment, it was as if the entire world stopped. Subaru didn't breathe, didn't blink—he simply stood frozen, hollow. For a few seconds, he didn't move a muscle. A chill crawled up his spine, and the warmth of the room felt like it had been sucked out. Finally, with sluggish movements, he turned and walked out. His footsteps echoed faintly in the hallway, sounding far more distant than they were. Each step away from Emilia felt like he was leaving behind something essential, something he'd never get back.

Once out of sight, he stumbled forward and pressed his back against the cold stone wall of the corridor. He exhaled sharply, as if breathing alone was painful. Something inside him—a mixture of pain, confusion, and self-loathing—began to swell.

His knees gave out and he slowly sank to the floor. Resting his elbows on his knees, he buried his face in his hands. His voice was a strained whisper:

"Why... why did I say all that? Why didn't I just keep my mouth shut? What the hell is wrong with me? Do I still love her...? Or... has this all just become some kind of routine I can't let go of?"

His own questions tormented him. The thoughts twisted and echoed, layering guilt on top of guilt. He dragged his fingers through his hair in frustration, then pressed his forehead against his knees. His breathing was erratic, trembling like the foundation of something collapsing.

It was then that the temperature around him subtly dropped. A faint shimmer of icy light materialized before him. The mana in the air condensed, forming glittering frost. Puck emerged, hovering with a stillness that felt almost ominous. His usual mischievous glint was gone, replaced by an unreadable severity. His tail was taut like a drawn bowstring, and his presence radiated a cold, unrelenting pressure.

"I want to know what happened between you and my girl, Natsuki Subaru," Puck said flatly. His tone was devoid of playfulness, each word spoken with deliberate precision.

Subaru slowly raised his head. His eyes shimmered but held no tears. The expression on his face was a tired mix of grief, regret, and sheer mental exhaustion.

"There's nothing going on with Anastasia," he said. "It's not like that. It's just business, Puck. Honestly. I was trying to help the Emilia Faction grow stronger. I wanted people to finally respect her... take her seriously. But maybe I got too caught up in that. I pushed too far. And now everything's falling apart."

Puck crossed his little arms, floating closer with narrowed eyes. The air around him grew heavier.

"Maybe so. But that doesn't change the fact that you hurt her. Badly. You made promises to her—promises that meant everything. And now you're acting like you've forgotten them. She waited for you. She believed in you. And every day, it became harder for her to keep doing that."

Subaru let himself fall back against the wall, then slowly pulled his knees to his chest again. His voice was thin, cracking under the weight of his feelings:

"So what do you want to do? Are you gonna throw a giant icicle at me and end this? Just do it already. Maybe then... at least one thing would stop hurting."

But Puck only sighed, shaking his head. There was sorrow in his eyes, but no anger:

"I'm not going to hurt you, Subaru. I could. But I won't. Because deep down, I still think you can come back from this. You still have a chance to make things right. All I ask is one thing: when the moment comes, apologize to Emilia. Truly. Sincerely. From your heart. Because while you were gone, she suffered in ways you can't even imagine. They pressured her. Isolated her. Spoke behind her back. Pushed her into corners she didn't know how to escape from. I tried to protect her, I really did. But I wasn't enough. And yet... she waited. For you. Hoping that the Subaru she believed in would return."

Subaru's breath caught in his throat. Puck's words hit like a series of slaps—each one more painful than the last. The weight of truth settled heavily on his chest. He looked down, face etched with a fragile mix of guilt and dawning realization.

And just when silence reclaimed the hallway, something shifted in the shadows. The air turned sharp, laced with a taunting, almost theatrical malice. From that swirling void stepped Flugel, his aura immediately recognizable—equal parts chaos and amusement. That signature smirk curled on his lips, both devilish and amused.

"So... what's this? Are we in desperate need of emotional therapy now?"

Puck visibly stiffened, his posture shrinking as though he were a child caught misbehaving. "N-no, Master. Of course not. That's not what this is about. But... if I may say so, I think Emilia might love Subaru."

Flugel tilted his head, eyes glinting like a cat that had cornered its prey. He raised a finger and wagged it mockingly.

"Oh, little feline... you still haven't caught on, have you? Our sweet little Lia isn't even sure what love means. She craves comfort. Emotional grounding. To her, love is just another word for safety. Attachment. Familiarity. She's complex. Messy. Wounded. But make no mistake, she feels deeply. And yes... Subaru should apologize. That much is undeniable."

He let out a soft chuckle, turning his back momentarily as if already bored.

"Of course, that doesn't mean she'll forgive him. But that's the gamble, isn't it? Hearts aren't healed by words alone, but without words, they never get the chance."

The hallway fell quiet again. Subaru remained seated, staring at the cold stone floor. Inside him, something had begun to shift—a spark amid the ruins, a faint desire to make things right.

And for the first time in a long while, he didn't feel completely alone.

Subaru rubbed his face with both hands, palms dragging slowly down as if trying to wipe away the fatigue clinging to his very soul. He let out a long, heavy breath, shoulders rising and falling with the motion. Then, almost reluctantly, he rose to his feet. His body still sagged with exhaustion, the kind that wasn't just physical—but deep, emotional. Still, his voice carried the spark of determination, quiet but undeniable:

"Alright... I'll apologize. But not right now. I'm not ready yet. I need to pull myself together first."

He turned without another word and walked away, each step purposeful, though weighed down by everything left unsaid. The soft echo of his footsteps down the corridor was the only sound, but it carried a gravity that lingered in the air long after he was gone.

Back in the silence of the room, Puck and Flugel exchanged a glance. Two beings who shared little in nature or origin, yet in this moment, they understood one another perfectly. Something unspoken passed between them. Flugel's smile was small, wry, the kind that hinted at knowledge older than anyone in the room.

"They'll make peace eventually," he said softly, almost as if to himself.

Puck's ears twitched as he exhaled, a slow and thoughtful breath. His tail slowly uncurled from around his legs, his sapphire eyes gentling.

"I agree, Master. Maybe it's just a matter of time... but I hope that time doesn't run out on them."

Outside the room, the corridor no longer just echoed with emptiness. It held anticipation, a fragile sense of hope suspended in time.

Subaru walked in silence, each footstep a dull thud that mirrored the beating inside his skull. His headache had worsened, pulsing behind his eyes like a hammer against glass. He clenched his jaw, rubbing his temples with both hands in an effort to chase away the pressure.

Emilia's voice was still loud in his mind, clearer than his own thoughts. Her anger. Her hurt. The disappointment in her eyes. Subaru had tried to stay strong, to act like he had things under control, but the truth gnawed at him relentlessly. He was tired. He was worn thin. He was unraveling, slowly but surely.

Just as he was about to sink deeper into his spiraling thoughts, movement at the end of the hallway caught his eye. Two familiar figures came into view—Rem and Meili, walking side by side. The contrast between them was always striking: Rem calm and collected, Meili bright and unpredictable. Rem carried a medium-sized package carefully in both arms, and Meili's energy practically sparkled as she bounced along beside her.

As soon as they saw Subaru, both girls' expressions lit up.

"Subaru-kun!" Rem called, picking up her pace. Her voice was soft, but the emotion in it ran deep. "This just arrived from the Hoshin Company."

She held out the package toward him, her posture steady, but Subaru didn't miss the flicker of worry in her eyes. Even she could tell something wasn't right.

Subaru blinked, momentarily startled, and took the package with both hands. The weight of it grounded him—something solid to hold onto in the midst of everything swirling inside.

"Ah... thank you. I guess you're wondering what's inside? Come on. Let's go to my room. I'll show you."

Meili's eyes sparkled as she clapped her hands. "Of course I'm wondering! You're always building weird stuff, Subaru-nii! Maybe it's a robot this time?!"

He couldn't help but let out a faint chuckle at her enthusiasm, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. Still, he turned and led them back to his room. Familiar walls and familiar faces—it was the closest thing he had to comfort right now.

Inside, Beatrice sat curled in a chair with one leg crossed over the other, her usual thick book open on her lap. She barely looked up as the door creaked, but her eyes flicked toward Subaru. Across the room, Hikari was seated at the desk, furiously scribbling notes with an intensity that rivaled any scholar.

When the girls noticed the package in Subaru's hands, their attention instantly shifted. Hikari's eyes went wide, and she jumped up from her chair.

"Onii-chan, is that the shipment? The one for the energy project? Did they send everything?"

Subaru walked over to the table and gently placed the box down. He popped the lid open, revealing its contents.

"Yeah. That's the one. Let's take a look."

Inside, arranged neatly in padded sections, were spools of iron wire, refined conductive metals, precision screw sets, and several oddly shaped tools that hummed faintly with embedded mana. Each piece looked like a puzzle waiting to be solved.

Hikari leaned in with awe, eyes darting between components. Meili's mouth hung open as she peered over the table. "That looks like something out of a dungeon," she whispered. "Are you building a trap or saving the world?"

Beatrice didn't move from her seat, but her gaze sharpened. She said nothing, but she was paying close attention.

Subaru stared at the contents for a few seconds, then slowly sank into a nearby chair. He rubbed his forehead again, a deep groan escaping him.

"But... I don't really feel like working on this right now. My head's killing me."

Rem immediately moved to his side, crouching beside him with concern etched across her face. "Subaru-kun, are you okay? You're pale... Did something happen?"

Hikari and Meili flanked him, each taking one of his hands in theirs. "Onii-chan, please talk to us," Hikari said softly.

"You don't have to carry it all by yourself," Meili added, voice unusually gentle.

Beatrice watched, her eyes unreadable. She didn't approach. She never did—not in front of others. But behind her silence was something tender, waiting. She cared more than she let on. And right now, she was watching Subaru with barely veiled concern.

Hikari narrowed her eyes, her expression a swirling storm of anger, concern, and burning curiosity. Her voice, though steady, carried a sharp edge. "Onii-chan, what happened exactly? You've been acting strange since the meeting. Tell us everything—don't hold anything back."

Beatrice stood up without hesitation, her arms crossing tightly, her sharp blue gaze locking onto Subaru with a complex mix of frustration, protectiveness, and deep-seated worry. "Betty wants to know too, in case you somehow missed that detail. It's not normal for you to look this shaken. What did that half-elf say to you? Don't make us pull it out of you—just say it."

Subaru looked away, his jaw tightening as waves of guilt and frustration churned inside him. His voice, when it finally came, was low, gravelly, and restrained. "I was gone for two whole months. I left to find Hikari. It wasn't something I decided on lightly, but I had no choice. After that, I had several meetings with Anastasia—long talks about trade networks, village defenses, political alignments, supply chains... All of it was necessary. But when I came back, Emilia didn't see it that way. She didn't ask. She just assumed. She looked me in the eyes and said, 'If you're not fulfilling your role, why are you even here?' Her voice—cold. Detached. And then she snapped. She got really, really angry."

Hikari's eyebrows furrowed as if trying to contain the heat building inside her. Her fists clenched at her sides, trembling slightly. "So let me get this straight. She's mad at you... for rescuing me? For putting your life on the line? And she's jealous of you doing your damn job? That woman—seriously, I don't get her. Is she that insecure?"

Meili nodded slowly, arms crossed, her gaze somewhere between bored and judgmental. Her voice, though measured, had a bite. "Anyone with eyes can tell there's nothing romantic going on between Subaru-nii and Emilia-sama. She's being dramatic. Overreacting like a child. It's not cute—it's annoying."

Rem, who had remained quiet until now, gently folded her arms and let out a soft, pensive sigh. Her expression was unreadable, but her voice was heavy with reflection. "Emilia-sama has never acted this way before. But... Nee-sama once told me that Roswaal-sama had a way of manipulating people. Subtly. Quietly. He puts pressure where it hurts most. If he's been whispering in her ear while we were away, it would explain a lot."

Subaru's hands moved to his hair, fingers running through it before tightening into fists. His breathing grew ragged. Fury, long repressed, surged up. His eyes blazed. "So in the end, it's him. Again. Everything circles back to that manipulative clown. Roswaal! I'm done. I swear—I want to kill him. I want to see that smug expression wiped off his face for good."

A sharp silence descended. The weight of his words slammed into the room like a physical force. No one spoke.

Then, Hikari stepped forward, her movements deliberate and calm. She gently took Subaru's hand in both of hers, grounding him. Her voice was soft, but her conviction cut through the stillness like lightning. "Onii-chan... You're not just some outsider anymore. People in Lagunica know your name. They admire you. They trust you. You don't need Roswaal. Not anymore. If you still believe in Emilia's dream, fine. But support it your way—not his. Step out of his shadow. Take your life back. Please."

Subaru looked into her eyes, and in that moment, he saw something unshakable. Not just hope—but trust. Trust that had never wavered, not even once. Slowly, his gaze drifted across the room—to Meili, standing tall with her chin raised defiantly. To Rem, eyes soft but strong. To Beatrice, arms crossed but not closed off. These weren't just companions. They were lifelines. His foundation.

Maybe it really was time.

But forging a new path wouldn't be simple. It wouldn't be about building machines or clever strategy. It would be about people. Rebuilding trust. Healing wounds. Creating something lasting. Something true.

He closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. His voice returned, calmer now. "You're right. What you said... it makes sense. The income from the sewing machines, windmills, and agricultural projects is stable. We've got consistent gold flowing in from every region where those systems were implemented. The nobles are watching. The people are noticing. The fame, the recognition—it's great. But it's not enough. I don't want to be known as a genius inventor. I want to be known as someone people can lean on when things fall apart. I want to be trusted—not just admired."

He paused, letting the words settle like dust after a storm. Then his voice grew quieter. "But here's what I keep wondering—can I do all this... alone?"

Hikari didn't hesitate. Her smile bloomed bright and wide, like sunlight after weeks of rain. She squeezed his hand tighter. "No way, onii-chan! Never. You're not alone. You've got me—always. Whether you're inventing something amazing, protecting people, or just trying to find your way—I'm here. Count on me. Every step of the way."

Beatrice turned her head with a dramatic sigh, her usual flair intact, but there was a fondness in her tone she didn't bother hiding. "Betty could never abandon her contractor, even if she wanted to. Not that she does, obviously. Someone has to keep you from falling flat on your face every other day. It might as well be me."

Meili thumped her palm on the table, puffing out her chest with mock arrogance. Her grin was sly and mischievous. "Heh~ Me and Elsa-nee are Subaru-nii's number one fans! We've got your back, no matter what madness you dive into next. Don't forget that. We're in this together."

Rem hesitated again. Her gaze lingered on Subaru, but behind it flickered images—her sister Ram, the mansion, the weight of Roswaal's expectations. A part of her wanted to speak, to promise her support aloud. But her heart trembled. Still, she stepped closer, eyes full of quiet strength, and nodded slowly. Her silence spoke louder than words ever could.

Subaru's throat tightened. A swell of emotion surged up—so much sorrow and gratitude, it overwhelmed him. A single tear slipped down his cheek.

"All of you... You really mean it. Thank you. From the deepest part of my heart... thank you."

Without another word, he pulled them into a tight embrace. One arm around Beatrice's small frame, the other drawing Hikari and Meili in close. Rem, gentle and steady, leaned into his shoulder. Their breaths aligned—deep, slow, together. It wasn't flashy. It wasn't grand. But in that moment, something powerful was born.

Their bond.

It was real. Irrefutable. The kind of connection that survived fire, loss, and betrayal. And Subaru knew with crystal clarity: this—this was what he had to protect above all else.

Time passed. The room remained wrapped in that warmth, that silence. Then, Meili broke it with a playful glint in her eye. She reached into her coat and pulled out a small, folded piece of paper. Holding it between two fingers, she presented it to Subaru with a smirk.

"Subaru-nii, Elsa-nee gave me this to give you. Said it was super important. Looked kinda secret, so I didn't peek. But maybe it's time you did." 

Subaru unfolded the small slip of paper and began to read its neatly penned words in silence:

From Elsa~

Just like we discussed yesterday, I'll be keeping to the shadows today—no one will see me. Leave your window open tonight. I'll come for you once the manor is quiet. We'll leave the Karsten Estate together.

Note: Don't even think about flirting with any other girls.

Subaru exhaled deeply, letting the tension roll out of his shoulders as a crooked smile crept onto his face. "Classic Elsa... possessive and dramatic." 

The sun had set long ago, and the manor slowly descended into stillness. The warmth of the day had given way to a cool night breeze that whistled gently through the gaps in the windowpanes. One by one, the flickering lights behind each door faded into darkness. Most of the manor's occupants had succumbed to sleep, their dreams unaware of the tensions still hanging in the air.

But Subaru remained awake, fully alert. The night ahead wasn't just another evening—it carried weight. He had a mission. Certain individuals needed to be eliminated, and tonight might be the only opportunity.

"My first assassination... I wonder if I'll even manage to go through with it," he thought grimly, his pulse quickening with a cocktail of nerves and anticipation.

And then, as if summoned by his unease, Flugel's voice slithered into his thoughts.

"You're overthinking it, boy. Just do it. Kill. No theatrics, no speeches. Use whatever's at your disposal—steel, spell, trickery, doesn't matter. But don't get sentimental. That's the quickest way to die."

Subaru swallowed hard, clenching his fists. "Understood... I'll keep that in mind."

Eventually, he stepped out of his room and began to walk. His footsteps were muffled against the thick carpets of the corridor, and even the floorboards seemed to hold their breath. He wandered through the quiet halls, guided not by destination but by instinct, until he found himself on the grand rear balcony of the manor.

The night air embraced him with its crispness. The scent of spring flowers lingered faintly in the breeze, mixing with the earthy smell of the cooling stone beneath his feet. Subaru walked toward the railing and leaned forward slightly, gazing up at the star-strewn sky.

Above him, constellations blinked like ancient watchful eyes, and the moon, half-veiled by drifting clouds, cast pale silver light across the courtyard. For a brief moment, the world felt still. Not safe, but still.

Then, behind him, a soft and unmistakably human voice disrupted the silence.

"Subaru-dono?"

He turned, mildly surprised to see Crusch Karsten approaching. Her regal posture was unmistakable, yet the softness in her expression gave her a more human aura tonight. Her long green hair fluttered slightly in the breeze, reflecting the moonlight.

"Hi there, Crusch-sama," Subaru greeted, bowing his head slightly in habitual respect.

She stepped closer until she stood beside him at the railing. Her eyes followed his to the stars above.

They shared a silence that wasn't awkward—it was comfortable, like two people acknowledging the presence of another soul awake in a world that had fallen asleep.

Subaru was the first to break it. "Can't sleep either?"

Crusch nodded slowly. "That's right. My mind is too crowded tonight. I thought some air might help. And you?"

"I could say the same. I've been obsessing over a new project—designs, materials, logistics... It's all swirling in my head. Sleep's been elusive."

She glanced at him with mild admiration. "You always seem to be creating something. I may not fully understand the mechanics, but your inventions are impressive. I believe in time, people will recognize the value you bring."

Subaru chuckled lightly and turned to face her more directly. "That's kind of you to say. But since we're not in a council meeting or political gathering right now... maybe you could ease up on the formality a little?"

Crusch's lips curled into a small smile. It was rare, and Subaru noted the way it softened her whole face. The Crusch Karsten most people saw was stern, determined. But here, under starlight, she looked simply... at peace.

"Ever since I was young," she began, her gaze still fixed on the stars, "I was taught that nobility was not just a title—it was a performance. The way I speak, the way I stand, even how I breathe... all of it was shaped by rules and expectations. My father believed that etiquette was the armor of aristocracy."

She turned toward him slightly. "But I'll make an exception. On one condition."

Subaru tilted his head curiously. "And what would that be?"

Her eyes glinted with a touch of mischief. "I haven't had a drink in ages, and I find myself in need of a drinking companion. Would you join me? Just for tonight—just a simple moment of peace. A drink or two, some honest talk, and nothing more."

Subaru blinked. Of all the things she could have said, this was unexpected. And right on cue, Flugel's voice slithered back into his mind like an unwanted guest.

"Well, well. She's inviting you to lower your guard. You know what happens in stories like these—drinks lead to confessions, confessions lead to bedsheets. Don't wimp out now."

Subaru flinched slightly and clenched his jaw. He forced the voice down, breathing slowly through his nose to clear his mind. Then, he looked Crusch in the eye and offered a sincere smile.

"I'd be honored. Who could say no to such a rare and noble offer?"

Crusch nodded appreciatively, then motioned to a nearby servant who had been quietly stationed in the shadows. "Bring me a bottle from my private collection—something aged and smooth. And two glasses. Also, prepare some light refreshments. I believe tonight deserves a little indulgence."

As the servant vanished into the manor, the two stood side by side once more, watching the stars. Their mission-driven lives faded briefly into the background, replaced by the simplest of connections: two weary souls, sharing the night.

Soon, they found themselves seated at a small table near the edge of a grand balcony, the kind that seemed to float above the world. The evening sky had deepened to a rich, velvety indigo, and the faint golden glow of the capital's distant lights shimmered like fallen stars. A hushed tranquility embraced the scene, broken only by the soft rustling of curtains in the breeze and the occasional distant murmur of the city below.

A servant arrived without a word, carrying a bottle so luxurious that its grandeur was apparent even before it touched the table. The deep green glass was etched with silver filigree, swirling like vines bathed in moonlight. He moved with practiced precision, pouring two delicate crystal glasses with the amber liquid before placing several small porcelain dishes of fruits, cheese, and sweet crackers between them. Without a sound, he bowed and vanished into the shadows.

Before lifting his glass, Subaru glanced sideways and broke the silence. "Do you drink often, Crusch? Or is this just a special occasion?"

Crusch smiled softly, the candlelight flickering in her eyes. "No, not often. Only when the moment calls for it. My father had a saying: 'The flavor of alcohol lies not in its age or origin, but in the soul of the one you share it with.' I suppose I took it to heart. I only drink during truly meaningful times... with people who matter to me."

Subaru chuckled lightly, raising his glass in a mock toast. "Then I guess I should feel honored. I didn't realize I was worth breaking tradition over."

Crusch let out a gentle, almost musical laugh, her posture relaxing. "You still underestimate yourself, Subaru. Truly. You've accomplished things few others could even dream of. Three Archbishops defeated, technological innovations that changed everyday life—those are no small feats. The windmills, the sewing machine, your leadership during crisis after crisis... You shine in ways that matter. And your sincerity, your drive... they resonate. Conversations with people who think and feel deeply? They're rarer than you'd think. They nourish the soul."

Subaru's gaze lowered to the swirling liquor in his glass. A soft grin pulled at the corner of his lips. "So that's why."

Their glasses touched with a soft clink, and they both took their first sip. The liquid burned gently as it slid down, leaving behind a lingering warmth that spread through their chests. The taste was complex—floral notes intertwined with aged oak and a touch of honey.

"This is... really something," Subaru murmured after a moment, swirling the contents of his glass. "Smooth, but with depth. There's this... mellow sweetness, but it's grounded. Like a memory bottled in wood."

Crusch's cheeks took on a soft flush as she set her glass down delicately. "It's a rare vintage. Imported from the far western isles—aged in blackwood barrels for over a decade. My father kept it hidden away. He only ever brought it out on the most treasured of evenings. I thought... maybe tonight was worthy."

"Whoever crafted this," Subaru said, taking another sip, "must've understood how to distill emotion into flavor. Like... it leaves echoes behind, you know? Memories that aren't yours."

Their conversation meandered like a gentle stream, following no path but the flow of their thoughts. They spoke of inventions and improvements, of Subaru's rising reputation in Lugunica and beyond. Crusch recounted stories from her youth—of sneaking out in boots too big to ride her favorite horse, of being caught by her ever-watchful mother, of dreams born not from ambition but from a desire to be worthy.

The night deepened. The final drops of liquor vanished from their glasses. Clouds had veiled the stars above, turning the sky into a soft gray canvas. Crusch's cheeks were glowing with warmth, her posture loose and comfortable. She tilted her head, her eyes shimmering with the hint of intoxicated honesty.

"I think... the alcohol's finally caught up to me," she murmured, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Subaru, meanwhile, sat as upright and alert as ever. Inside, however, he was frowning. He muttered under his breath, "Why the hell am I not even lightheaded?"

As if in response, Flugel's voice echoed inside his mind—smooth, amused.

"Ah, the perks of a cursed heart, Natsuki Subaru. Your body neutralizes poison and toxins with ease. Curses are formed from corrupted, venomous mana, remember? You process and purify toxins instinctively... and that includes alcohol."

Subaru grumbled mentally. "That's... actually really useful. But kind of a bummer. Sometimes, I wouldn't mind feeling a little dizzy. Just to let go."

Crusch stood, carefully at first, testing her balance like a sailor on uncertain waters. Her expression was soft, her voice sincere. "I should get to bed. But truly, Subaru... tonight was special. I don't say that lightly. Thank you."

Subaru rose as well, nodding with quiet appreciation. "No, thank you. For trusting me enough to share this moment. Sleep well, Crusch."

She paused at the edge of the balcony, silhouetted against the cloudy night. Then, with a small nod, she turned and disappeared into the corridor beyond.

Subaru remained still for a long while, gazing out into the night. The wind tugged gently at his clothes, and in that quiet, he felt the weight of the evening settle into his memory like a pressed flower—fragile, vivid, eternal.

He knew, without question, that this was a night he would carry with him for the rest of his life.

 ------------------------------------------------------------------------

(A/N: DON'T WORRY, EMILIA AND SUBARU WON'T BREAK UP. THIS IS JUST PART OF THE STORY.

PLEASE DON'T CRITICIZE ME IN THE COMMENTS.)

Also, give me a powerstone. :D