What did it mean to be happy?
Subaru believed that staying unchanged—that was one definition of happiness.
Tomorrow that was no different from today, today that was no different from yesterday, days that continued without ever changing—that was what happiness meant to him.
Of course, no one could go on living with absolutely nothing changing.
The passage of time bred change; through wear and tear, it led to an end—whether evolution or degradation.
—Then was he, who had arrived in this other world, moving forward? Or was he regressing?
If anything deserved to be called change, there was nothing greater than being cast from the everyday into the extraordinary, as he had been.
Environmental change, situational transmutation, shifts in status, transformations in one's way of life—these were the things
That was why, even in a world where everything had been turned completely upside down, he had frantically, desperately searched for something that remained unchanged.
He clung to it, gripping tight because he refused to let go of what he had once gained, and yet.
And yet—still, I— ※※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ When he woke, Subaru furrowed his brows at the unfamiliar sight of the ceiling above him.
It wasn't the ostentatious ceiling of the Roswaal mansion he had grown accustomed to, nor was it the simple but well-maintained ceiling of an inn. And it certainly wasn't the grime-kissed ceiling of his own beloved room.
Marvelling briefly at the almost meaningless height of it, Subaru drifted for a few seconds through the haze of half-consciousness.
For someone who was a terrible morning person, that groggy, sheepish feeling upon waking was utterly foreign. He savored the subtle difference from his usual routine, groping through his memories by touch.
What had happened before he fell asleep? Where even was this place?
His temples throbbed with a dull ache, and when he cracked his eyes open, a thin film of moisture gathered there.
He couldn't tell whether that was from the pain or simply from the disorientation of waking.
He brushed away the droplet with his sleeve and, in doing so, caught sight of something odd on his right wrist.
There, peeking out from beneath his cuff, was an extravagant scar that his memory held no record of.
Carved into both the inside and outside of his wrist, it tingled faintly— "…I remember."
Just how badly he'd been beaten. Just how pathetic he'd looked, to end up with scars like these.
And the fact that these scars still remained meant— "That means I didn't die… right?"
He didn't realize how arrogant, how presumptuous those words sounded the moment they left his lips.
More to the point, he didn't realize what it was he was unconsciously wishing for.
But— "Subaru, you're awake?"
That silvery voice, the kind that tickled the ear, now sounded unbearably uncomfortable to him.
He tilted his head toward the sound.
There, walking toward him from beside the bed he lay in, was
Her gait, her appearance—it was the same as what he'd seen in the hall during the Royal Selection.
Her white-based outfit lacked the ostentation of noble finery, yet it suited her refined bearing perfectly. The white robe she had long since made a familiar companion on her outings was neatly folded and cradled in her arms.
Comparing her to the orange sunlight streaming in through the window, Subaru judged that very little time had passed.
Probably a few hours. Given that the Royal Selection had begun before noon, he'd been unconscious for perhaps four hours at most.
"How are your wounds? Felis treated you, so I don't think there should be anything weird, but…"
Emilia approached, worry swimming in her amethyst eyes. When her gaze fell on Subaru's wrist and the severity of the scarring left there, those eyes narrowed with sorrow.
Even though her gaze was born of concern for his condition, Subaru felt as though something he didn't want to see was being exposed, and he quietly slipped his right hand behind his back.
"Ah, ah—well, from the look of things, I don't see anything that seems off. Seriously, though, being able to feel where my teeth broke off is pretty terrifying."
He mumbled around his tongue, shuddering at the sensation of teeth that shouldn't have been there anymore.
He regretted having been unconscious during the treatment. Had the broken teeth been regenerated, or reconstructed from scratch?
Starting with the carnage inside his mouth, injuries all over his body had been healed in one go, and Subaru once again marveled at the omnipotence of healing magic in this world.
If fractures, lacerations, and permanent tooth retirement could all be fully recovered in four hours, hospitals back in his world would be out of a job.
"Wait, though. I don't think they could do much against actual diseases. When you think about it that way, hospitals still have the advantage…"
"Water-attribute magic can affect things on the inside of the body too, like illnesses, so I don't think you need to worry."
"Magic really is the answer to everything. Farewell, White Big Tower. Give my regards to the BJs."
He tossed off a flippant joke, trying to moisten his tongue back to its usual state. But Emilia seemed to see right through the delicate feelings behind it—the look in her eyes still carried that undercurrent of sympathy, unchanged.
And yet, being the object of that 'sympathy' was the hardest thing for him to bear right now.
"Oh, right—did the Royal Selection talks go okay?"
He offered up a topic of conversation to dodge that gaze and the wordless silence. Emilia dipped her chin slightly and replied, "Yes, mostly."
"Everything everyone wanted to say had already been said during the discussion in the hall, so after that, all that was left was the really minute details of the selection itself. Roswaal just nodded along and it was pretty much over."
When it came to the finer points of statecraft, Emilia—who was still in the middle of learning the fundamentals of imperial governance—was clearly out of her depth. Subaru caught the hint of self-deprecation in her voice, and noticed with some surprise that he felt a flicker of relief.
That in the arena of the Royal Selection, Emilia too had experienced the frustration of being out of reach, had tasted despair—it was that wretched sense of shared inadequacy.
To mask the dark emotion stirring inside him, Subaru raised his head and, speaking quickly, averted his gaze.
"So where did Roswaal go off to? He seemed pretty much a non-entity in the hall, honestly."
"After he finished his duties as my supporter, he switched over to his work as court magician. Even though he's like that, he seems to be relied on here. …Not that it's my place to say that, given that I can't do anything without him."
There she was, speaking with the same conviction she'd shown in the hall when asserting her beliefs—yet now her manner of thinking was somehow backwards and fragile. If she was comparing herself to the other candidates and feeling inadequate because of it, then Subaru thought she was selling herself far too short.
If you evaluated people based on their education and their birth, then Emilia's prospects were already quite poor on account of her half-elf heritage alone.
But her claim—that she wanted to be judged on who she was becoming going forward, not on those factors—was entirely logical. And the passion with which she'd stood before that old man, baring every ounce of her sincerity, had been overflowing in her bearing.
The things she lamented lacking were all things that could be acquired with enough effort.
And the thing she needed most to seek the throne—she had possessed it from the very beginning, Subaru believed.
That was why he thought her lament was misplaced, and why he believed what she truly lacked for the Royal Selection was something else entirely. And he feared the moment she might come to realize that herself.
"Anyway, once Roswaal's done with his meeting, let's head straight back to the inn. We'll pick up
"Subaru—"
"If not, then great. We don't know where all the eyes and ears are planted in a place like this, so ideally we'd head back to the mansion. We can have a more detailed conversation there… Actually, no, we've come all the way to the capital, so maybe we should focus on winning over influential figures first…"
"Subaru…"
"No, wait—actually, maybe it'd be better to establish some terms of exchange with the other Royal Selection candidates while we're here. It's hard to know when, where, and how they might make a move…"
"Subaru!"
Emilia called his name sharply, cutting through the barrage of improvised words. Caught off guard, Subaru stopped mid-sentence and finally met her gaze.
Steadily, straight on, those deep violet-blue eyes were fixed on him.
"—Let's talk."
Quietly, yet with an unshakable weight, those words resounded through him.
※※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ Subaru sat up, using the bed as a makeshift chair. Across from him, Emilia stood with her back against the wall near the entrance, both hands gripping the robe she had been carrying so tightly that her fingers had gone white.
The unconscious tension in her fingertips betrayed the fact that what she was about to say was no lighthearted matter—something that could not be exchanged over laughter and smiles.
"There were… a lot of things I wanted to ask. But before, the location made it impossible. …Really, so many things."
"…Yeah. I suppose there would be."
Emilia's lips trembled as she fumbled for where to begin, still uncertain how to broach the subject.
Her hesitation, her wavering—Subaru could read it all as clearly as if holding it in his hands.
These were events he had caused, after all. Every one of them must have been far beyond her imagination, and each one was something she'd want an explanation for.
So if Emilia were to choose her words carefully, what she should be doing wasn't interrogating the entirety of 'today's actions,' but rather questioning his true intent.
And to that, Subaru could give one honest, unflinching answer.
But— "So… why did you end up fighting Julius? Why…?"
Her chosen topic was not what Subaru had hoped for.
And, more than anything, it was the part of the conversation he least wanted to address—furrowing his brow was inevitable. A wry smile touched his lips at the way she had carefully selected the word 'fighting.' "…What's with that horribly sour face?"
"It's nothing. It's just—I couldn't exactly call it a 'fight.' What happened to me was hardly something I'd call glorious, if I'm being honest."
One-sided beatdowns don't really qualify as 'fights.' More like 'trampling.' Or perhaps, as Julius himself had put it, 'punishment.' Setting aside his own ravaged feelings, Emilia looked pained by his response. That Subaru—who normally deflected with jokes—would say something so openly self-deprecating was naturally shocking.
With sorrow clouding those pale eyes of hers, she pressed on.
"There must have been some reason, right? Knowing you, there must have been something important…"
"A reason, huh…"
When Julius had appeared before him in the waiting room, Subaru had been a broken mess. Following his lead to the training grounds, Subaru had immediately concluded this was retribution for his rudeness in the hall.
He had also, to some extent, gauged the gap in power between himself and Julius. Normally, the kind of person Subaru was would have excused himself on account of a stomachache, quickly backing down from whatever the other party had in mind. And in truth, there was part of him that believed that's what he should have done.
And yet, in reality, Subaru had picked up a wooden sword on that field and challenged an opponent he had no chance of defeating—resulting in him being beaten to a pulp and discarded like garbage.
Why had he done something like that? The answer was— "I wanted to hit back, just once."
"…Huh?"
"In the hall, in the waiting room—he was saying I wasn't worthy. That I wasn't good enough. I know that. I knew it better than anyone. I knew full well I was lacking in every way. But!"
He raised his head. Looking up at the silver-haired beauty standing before him, at those confused eyes— "I wanted to show him. That what I'd thrown away wasn't actually garbage. No—it wasn't even that. I just… wanted to stand beside him. If I could show him even a shred of that, maybe I could… become something more…"
The words wouldn't come together. Subaru's face crumpled under the surge of emotion churning inside him, and he bit his lip, clenching the fist resting on his knee.
He cursed himself for not being able to articulate this better. If only he could pour out everything that smoldered in his chest, exactly as it burned within him, he wouldn't have to suffer this frustration.
"Subaru…"
"It was pride. I'm useless, I'm unnecessary, I'm in the way—he was trying to cut me away from you, and I hated him for it… I wanted to make him take it back, so I challenged him."
In the end, that was really what it came down to.
Julius had rebuked Subaru more fiercely than anyone else in that hall, declaring him unworthy of Emilia. But Subaru had known that better than anyone.
He had tried desperately to keep that hidden, to hold his mask together. And when a man casually ripped it away, exposing everything beneath— He couldn't forgive that.
And in his desperate attempt to cover it all back up again, Subaru had ended up drowning in a sea of his own blood.
At Subaru's powerless answer, Emilia drew a small breath.
It wasn't the kind of substantial answer she had been looking for. He didn't know what ideal answer she'd been hoping for. But the ideal she'd wanted to believe in was being betrayed by Subaru's stubborn pride.
That disappointment seeped faintly from her lips.
"…For something like that?"
"Something like that was everything to me…"
Such a trivial thing—yet the simple acknowledgment of it by those around him would have been enough for Subaru to hold his head high.
And the mere awareness of that trivial thing was enough to torment him with shame until he couldn't move.
So close to that magnificent back striding ahead of him, yet unable to ever catch up.
But Subaru's desperate, clinging feelings were beyond Emilia's understanding.
She covered her mouth with her palm, as if wringing out her response through the gaps between her fingers— "That's… that's the reason you fought like that?"
"…Yeah."
"You went through all that pain, all that suffering, and for that?"
"That's right."
"—When I specifically told you not to use magic, you used it anyway?"
The rigid expression on Subaru's face tightened. He had been avoiding her gaze, looking away like a sullen child.
Trump card, hidden ace, last resort—no matter how you phrased it, Julius had called it a crude, unsophisticated trick.
The real power Subaru had gained, however tenuously, since arriving in this world.
During his second time through—the incident at the mansion—it was the very thing he'd relied on more than anything. To have it shattered so easily had dealt him no small blow.
It felt as though every day he'd lived in this world had been stripped away. Such was the powerlessness.
"Subaru, answer me."
"……"
"Is that really the reason? You used magic… because of that?"
"…Emilia-tan, please…"
Trembling words pressed Subaru, wracked with helplessness, toward a confession.
She couldn't know just how cruel and merciless her question truly was.
So Subaru, in a feeble voice, unable to even look at her— "—You wouldn't understand, Emilia."
"……"
That was what he said.
The moment the words left his mouth, Subaru knew it for what it was: a pointless, spiteful tantrum.
Worse—it was the lowest form of dismissal, rejecting her willingness to understand and severing all connection between them.
Silence fell.
Subaru knew his words were the kind that shut down any further questioning, and Emilia must have understood that clearly as well.
He wanted to avoid digging any deeper into the reason behind that fight.
No matter where he dug, no matter how he looked at it, Subaru couldn't give Emilia the answer she was seeking. To keep excavating this topic would only deepen the wounds between them.
"…I see."
Without Subaru able to lift his head, a voice like an exhaled breath reached him.
That sigh-like tone meant she had accepted what he'd said, and that she had no intention of pressing the matter further.
Relieved by that response, Subaru let the tension drain from his shoulders and exhaled.
Then, thinking that he had to at least be useful going forward, to make up for his inability to give her what she wanted— "Subaru, let's talk about what happens next."
"Hm? Yeah—I was thinking the same thing. For starters, I can't really make any decisions until I've calmed down and gotten the full picture, but we should link up with Roswaal—"
"Roswaal and I will probably head back to the mansion tomorrow or so. And Subaru, I'd like you to remain in the capital."
He couldn't process what those words meant, and Subaru let out a confused "Huh?"
In response to his uncomprehending expression, Emilia spoke in a voice carefully stripped of emotion.
"That was the agreement from the beginning, wasn't it? You came to the capital to have your gate healed. I've already made that arrangement with Felis, so all you need to do is receive treatment from her and focus on recovery."
"Wait, hold on."
"While you stay in the capital, Felis—or rather, Crusch-sama's Karsten household—will look after you. Rem will stay with you too, so don't worry. Once the treatment is complete, we'll talk then."
"That's what I'm saying—wait!"
Emilia rattled off the plan for his future at breakneck speed, and Subaru realized that none of his own wishes were reflected in any of it. He raised his voice and tried to reach her.
He lifted his head, trying to finally face her directly— But— "Emilia…"
"This was decided. Focus on your treatment."
Turning her back on him, Emilia headed for the door as though the conversation was over.
Her face hidden, her feelings unreadable—Subaru felt an icy chill creep through him, and instinctively reached out for the hem of her robe as she moved to leave.
Dizziness swam across his vision, his weakened body protesting the movement, but his fingertips barely managed to brush against the back of her departing form.
"Why so sudden? I… I—"
"…Because when I'm around, you push yourself too hard, Subaru."
Without turning, Emilia answered his desperate voice with those words.
Subaru caught his breath at what she said, and Emilia tilted her head slightly upward.
"From the first time we met, you did the same thing. During everything at the mansion, you did the same thing. And today, too… all of it—everything happened because you were with me, didn't it?"
"You don't have to say it like that…"
Petulant—that was too cute a word for the sharpness of it. Her words carried an unmistakable note of grievance, a rare flash of negative emotion from Emilia.
Her phrasing made Subaru sound far too unrewarded.
The content was the same as what Subaru had been trying to say, but the path to those words was fundamentally different.
He just wanted her to understand that much.
"That's not what I'm trying to say. …I just—"
"Just?"
"I just wanted to do something for you, Emilia-tan. That's all."
"For me?"
At the repeated question, Subaru nodded with all the affirmation he could muster.
It was a gesture she couldn't see, her back still turned, but perhaps she sensed it through his presence. Emilia, still looking slightly upward, stood in silence for a few heartbeats.
"—It's for yourself, isn't it?"
The words that followed struck Subaru dumb.
"……"
Beyond silence, emptiness surged through Subaru's mind.
Confusion gave way to bewilderment; before any words could form, before any emotion could rise, his heart was first seized by a hollow, aching void.
He didn't understand what had been said.
He didn't understand what she meant.
Was it sadness? Pain? Regret? Grief? Did he want to rage? Did he want to cry?
"I… I just wanted to… for you…"
He wanted to do things that would make her happy.
He wanted to be the one to help with whatever she wished.
He wanted to protect her from everything that might cause her pain.
Subaru had always believed that his actions were rooted in those feelings.
And he'd been convinced that his actions communicated those feelings to her without the need for words.
That self-centered, one-sided presumption—one that never stopped to consider another person's feelings— "Guah!"
A soft fabric struck his face, and Subaru yelped in surprise.
He brushed it away and, catching a glimpse of it as it landed on the bed, recognized the pure white robe embroidered with a hawk—Emilia's robe.
He realized that it had been in her hands just moments ago, and understood that she had thrown it at him.
But that violent gesture and the image of Emilia simply didn't connect.
Rationality accepted that it was Emilia who had thrown it, but his emotions refused to acknowledge it.
Because in Subaru's eyes, Emilia had always been gentle—a girl overflowing with a motherly compassion, stubbornly refusing to admit it herself, but unable to stop caring for others.
So Subaru couldn't accept the reality before him.
His consciousness ground to a halt, unable to process that the girl he'd believed would never do such a thing had just unleashed even that faintest hint of violence.
"E-Emilia-tan…?"
Still unable to grasp reality, Subaru spoke her name and raised his eyes.
She was still right there—close enough that a single outstretched arm could reach her.
The girl who'd had her back turned moments ago had now turned to face him. Her long, beautiful silver hair swayed as though expressing the turmoil of her emotions, and her deep violet-blue eyes gazed down at him, steady and unwavering.
For the first time, he saw her eyes trembled by the tide of her own feelings.
For the first time, he saw her biting down on trembling lips, her face rigid with emotion.
Why was it—why was it that such an expression, such a gaze, suited her so little?
And yet, there was no denying that both were directed at him.
He knew it was out of place, knew it was sentimental—but even so, Subaru looked at her.
At the girl whose emotions lay completely exposed, and thought she was beautiful.
"Stop saying everything was for my sake—stop lying!"
The flood of emotion became tears, filling those violet-blue eyes.
Shaking her head slightly, Emilia seemed to spit out everything she'd been holding inside— "You came to the capital for me? You fought Julius for me? You used magic for me? You're saying all of it was for me? I never asked you to do any of that!"
"——!"
"Everything I wanted you to do—everything I asked you to do—you should have done!"
"——"
"Do you remember? What I asked of you."
"I… I…"
For the first time, she had plainly denied his actions, and Subaru's thoughts froze.
So he couldn't search through his hazy memories to answer her question.
But Emilia probably hadn't expected an answer. She let out a small breath, closed her eyes tightly, and said— "I asked you to stay at the inn with Rem."
"——"
"I asked you not to use magic, because if you strained your gate any further, who knows what would happen to your body."
He remembered both requests.
Both had been made out of concern for his well-being, both carrying her wish for him to simply stay put. Subaru had heard them, and acted regardless.
Driven by an almost pathological obsession, he had pressed on through his own deterioration, convinced he had to do something—anything—that might save her.
Disregarding those wishes, trampling on them—that was something Subaru had always kept in the back of his mind, the casual assumption that as long as he brought back results, he could paper over anything.
He hadn't consciously thought of it in those exact words, but that flippant mindset had always lurked beneath his foundation.
And in the end, Subaru had ignored Emilia's wishes, failed to produce a single meaningful result, and was left with nothing but the spectacle of having dragged her down.
But still—the source of his actions, their origin, was undeniably— "I know I didn't listen, and I'm sorry. I really am. I've truly reflected on it. But! That's not—I didn't do it for myself…"
The feeling at his core was genuine—that was all he wanted her to understand.
But Subaru's tongue went numb, seizing up, refusing to form another word.
Betrayed by his own body's rebellion, Subaru pressed his hand over his mouth, unable to hide his frustration. Emilia watched his wretched state with a sorrowful expression.
Shrinking into himself, tormented by the suffocating weight of his own entrapment, Subaru spoke in a feeble voice— "Can't you… believe me, Emilia?"
It was an incredibly selfish, self-centered, self-absorbed thing to say.
It was something he should never have said. The words of someone who had just moments ago refused to understand the person in front of them.
"I want to believe you. …I want to believe in Subaru."
Her voice was on the verge of tears.
In truth, she might have been crying already.
But Subaru didn't have the courage to confirm it.
He couldn't lift his head to face the girl he loved. Couldn't meet her eyes.
Even though she might have been crying. Even though he might have been the one to make her cry.
He'd come this far because he never wanted to see that expression on her face, and yet, at the most critical moment—Natsuki Subaru— "I want to believe in you… but Subaru is the one who never gave me a reason to!"
Emotion erupted.
She had been gentle, rational—yes, she'd been upset before, but she had never once let her emotions break free of their chains.
But now those chains shattered, and Emilia spoke all the feelings spilling from her heart without restraint— "You don't keep a single promise! You made a promise, and you broke it all, so easily—and that's why we're here!"
She had trampled right over them.
Every promise they'd exchanged—their trust.
All while waving the banner of a noble cause that benefited no one but himself.
"You can't keep your promises to me, but you still want me to believe in you? …I can't do that. I can't—!"
He wanted to shout "No!" at the top of his lungs.
But in reality, Subaru's throat merely trembled without producing any sound, and his head hung as though weighed down with lead, unable to move.
Trembling, tears streaming, at the mercy of his own emotions—Subaru turned his back, continuing to betray the girl who was seeking his honest answer.
And when Emilia extended her hand one more time, Subaru rejected it with childish spite. At his stubborn refusal, Emilia drew short, shuddering breaths— "…Tell me, Subaru. Why do you try so hard to save me?"
That was surely a question she had almost voiced many times, only to hold back each time.
It was delivered so smoothly, so without hesitation, that Subaru could almost feel how many times she had turned it over in her mind during those brief pauses for breath.
She had watched Subaru time and again—running until he was covered in wounds, grinning through the pain, enduring it all while throwing himself into the jaws of death—and each time, she had harbored this question, only to seal her lips once more.
So that it finally surfaced here, in this moment, was inevitable.
If she hadn't let it out now, Emilia would have been left carrying that question in her chest forever, continuing to watch Subaru destroy himself for her sake without understanding why, unable to do anything but watch her own heart break.
Subaru recognized that Emilia had, in this way, shown him the path to salvation.
He had been convinced that every word he could offer was hollow, that nothing could reach her now—not after he had broken every promise. And yet, her question was earnest, sincere, delivered straight to his heart.
—Why does Subaru go this far for Emilia?
—Why has he become so fixated on her since arriving in this world?
The answer was— "From the first time we met, you saved me. I'll never forget what happened in the loot cellar. And at the mansion, you did the same. You've always been there for me, up to this very moment. So why? Subaru, why do you go so far for me?"
What Subaru continued to give her was, to Emilia, utterly incomprehensible.
From her perspective, Subaru had appeared out of nowhere, suddenly saved her life, devoted himself tirelessly without ever explaining why—and when she'd finally let her guard down, he'd thrown it all away and made a fool of himself.
He was a person who made no sense.
But Subaru had a clear reason.
She seemed to believe she had done nothing for Subaru, but that was not the case at all.
Subaru continued to receive from her. And he was merely desperate to return even a fraction of what he'd been given.
The beginning was not Subaru. The beginning was her—she had given to him first.
So Subaru's answer was— "The reason I want to do something for you… is because you saved me first…"
"I… saved Subaru?"
"That's right."
Suddenly summoned into another world, lost and helpless, beaten down by violence there was no escaping—in a world that could have simply ended— "What you did for me—I don't think you realize how much it saved me. But I was… saved beyond what words could express."
What Emilia did that day wasn't simply saving Subaru's life.
What Emilia saved that day wasn't his life—it was Subaru himself.
Even as he wanted desperately to put it into words, it was the kind of thing that defied language. So all Subaru could do was try to shape the formless thing, if only slightly, and convey it along with his feelings for Emilia.
"I don't understand, Subaru…"
Weakly, her voice trailing off as though it might vanish, Emilia's lips trembled.
Reaching toward her fading silhouette, Subaru clung— "Of course you don't. That's only natural. But it's the truth. I was saved by you. So everything I've done is an attempt to repay that—but now…"
But it's more than that—the words he wanted to add— "I don't understand, I'm telling you!"
—never reached her. She shook her head, silver hair scattering with the motion, emotion flooding from her like a dam breaking.
Eyes red with tears, Emilia stared at Subaru, her breathing ragged, her shoulders trembling— "I saved Subaru? …That's impossible. The first time we met was at the loot cellar—aside from that, there's no way I had any connection with you!"
"No—listen—"
"If there was some connection before that, if that were really true, then I… I would…"
Covering her face with both hands, blocking Subaru from sight, Emilia refused to listen. She was retreating completely into her shell, and Subaru's voice had no power to stop her.
He had no idea what he'd touched upon—what raw nerve he'd struck.
But even without understanding, he had to find the words.
So Subaru, driven by the urgency of his emotions— "I know you might not understand, but please, listen to me. I'm telling the truth! I was saved by you—when I first came to this world, you—"
In that instant—time stopped, and Subaru realized he had touched upon the forbidden.
The world froze. All motion ceased.
Even the pounding of his own violent heartbeat, even Emilia's voice that had been reaching him moments ago—all grew distant. The last traces of that shrill ringing in his ears faded, leaving behind a world of absolute silence.
Raging at his own carelessness, at the shadow of the executor he'd failed to read—Subaru's fury was beyond measure.
A shadow took form. Regardless of Subaru's inner outrage, the merciless executor revealed itself.
The right arm, more defined than before, materialized from fingertips to shoulder in an instant, reaching toward Subaru. The left arm, equally born, formed only to the elbow—lacking in symmetry.
The left hand gently caressed Subaru's cheek, tenderly, as though doting on a beloved thing.
The right hand slipped through Subaru's chest and touched his heart, cradling it as though cherishing the organ that gave him life.
His gritted teeth wouldn't budge, but agony tore through every fiber of his being.
The pain of being torn apart, the sense of loss so vast it felt like he was disappearing, suffering so profound that neither screaming nor writhing was permitted—every bit of it rained down unilaterally as punishment for violating the shadow's prohibition.
How long the pain lasted, he didn't know.
Seconds? Minutes? Hours?
Counting time in a world where time had stopped was pointless—a mere game of the mind, a meaningless flicker that could never serve as a distraction from the agony.
The shadow receded, and the world began to move again.
Emilia before him was still mired in confusion. Subaru, who had been driven by sheer desperation to break through it, could only meet the situation with ragged breaths and the cold sweat pouring from his pores.
Pain, agony, the shadow's curse—they all conspired to obstruct Subaru's feelings.
The words he'd tried to speak tumbled back down his throat. The sincere emotion he'd meant to convey lost its destination, settling like stones across both his shoulders.
"…You won't say anything again, will you."
Emilia's voice struck his eardrums—frozen, resigned, stripped of hope.
The passionate outburst that had nearly broken into sobs, the emotional turbulence that had shaken her to her core—all of it crashed over her like waves, tearing through her heart and sweeping it away.
And the only person who could have stopped it had chosen silence instead of reaching out a hand.
Even if the reality was different, that was all she could perceive. And if he tried to deny it, the black shadow would seize his innards once more.
An ill-suited anger welled up inside him.
A grief with nowhere to go swelled in his chest, threatening to tear it apart.
What was he supposed to do?
If he tried to convey his feelings honestly, Emilia wouldn't listen.
If he tried to explain the whole journey that had led him here, the shadow's curse would block him, interfere.
"What I want to do for you—what I want to do for you, for you—I wanted to because you, first—you—"
"…That wasn't me, Subaru."
Weakly, haltingly, as though afraid of the dark hand looming over her, Emilia spoke—and the sorrow in her voice was plain as day.
"It's someone else you're seeing inside me."
"No—it's not—it's not like that…"
Hanging his head, covering his face with his palm, Subaru let the words of denial slip out, powerless.
Emilia—the girl who had first picked him up when he'd fallen into this world. That memory did not exist within this her. That history, that world, lived only inside Subaru.
But even so—she had been Emilia.
If the same situation were laid before her, she would make the same choice, without question.
When Subaru had been lying in an alleyway, his life about to end in the most wretched way possible, unable to do anything, crumbling into nothingness—the moment that saved him would always come.
Even if that moment had never occurred in this world, it had been real.
And even in a world where it didn't happen, Subaru continued to be saved by her, endlessly.
He had nothing but gratitude beyond what words could express.
And yet the words needed to convey it didn't exist anywhere in this world.
Still, he had believed it reached her.
He had wanted to believe it. He had told himself that being allowed to stay at her side was proof enough.
"Why won't you understand…?"
"…Subaru."
"I thought you would—I thought Emilia-tan, you of all people, would understand…"
"The me inside Subaru sure is something, isn't she."
A heartbreaking severance—such was the gulf between them, packed into that single line.
Dazed, Subaru raised his head. Emilia had turned her gaze away, looking to the side.
A faint, lonely smile hung at her lips—half self-mocking, half pitying the child who stomped his feet in stubborn refusal to accept what he couldn't grasp.
"If you'd just told me—I would have understood everything. Without you saying a word. Your pain, your sadness, your anger—I would have felt it all as though it were my own."
"…Ah—"
"But if you don't tell me, I can't know, Subaru."
Denied. Crushed. The illusion crumbled to dust.
His shoulders grew heavy. Something invisible pressed down on his entire body, and violent nausea surged through him. His vision spun, turbulent emotions churning in a vortex in his chest— He had thought Emilia understood everything without him having to say a word.
He had believed that Emilia felt his pain and sorrow just as he did.
He had wished that Emilia would take in every thought, every feeling, and accept it all.
—That was far too fragile, far too arrogant, far too self-serving a presumption.
"My…"
Denial. He had been denied.
After falling into this world, after placing his trust, after finding his footing in that one person— Gritting his teeth against the pain, wiping away his tears, pushing through the suffering—every single act had been in service of protecting the idol he'd constructed in his mind.
And now he could hear the sound of that selfish, nonexistent paradise crumbling.
"Everything—all of it…"
His lips trembled. His eyes burned. His tongue spasmed. His heartbeat was so violent it was deafening.
He raised his head. His eyes met Emilia's. Her violet-blue eyes stared back at him, filled with nothing but sorrow. The face reflected in those eyes was wretched—because he had not been saved.
"It's because of me that things started to get better—!!"
A scream tore from his throat, loud enough to shake the waiting room.
"In the loot cellar, where the徽章 was stolen—! I saved you from a goddamn murderer! I put my body on the line! All because you were important to me!!"
His fingers clutching the sheets trembled, his nails biting into his palms until blood welled up.
His voice cracked, splintering into ugly shrieks that echoed with a harshness that made even his own ears recoil.
"What about the mansion—I was torn to pieces, fought desperately—head bashed in, neck snapped, and I still saved the villagers! Rem,
He listed his own accomplishments.
Enumerating every deed he could imagine, chasing the shadow of the girl who was slipping further and further away.
"Without me, it would have been so much worse! No one would have been saved—no one, no one, no one! Every last person—because of me! Because I was there!"
In the loot cellar, Emilia would have met her end.
Even after overcoming that, at the mansion—Rem would have died, the villagers would have perished, and the curse might have turned on Roswaal,
He had prevented all of it—all of it—through his own efforts.
It was something to be proud of, something worthy of reward—the result of Natsuki Subaru's actions.
After everything he'd done, after going this far— "You owe me more than you could ever repay—!!"
Even the feeling that had been the foundation of his actions—he betrayed it, and the scream came.
The sentiment that had gone unrewarded, the vanity that craved recognition, the thirst that demanded fulfillment, the selfishness that yearned to be loved—Subaru, lost in the deepest depths of his confusion, had been led to this.
And for both of them, it was the decisive, irreversible blow.
"…That's right."
A small, trembling voice reached Subaru, who was drenched in sweat, gasping for air.
The tone carried acceptance, resignation, resolve—and with it, finality.
"I owe Subaru so much. An incredible amount. More than I can ever—"
"Yeah, that's right. So I—"
"Then let me repay all of it, and we'll be even."
Clear, unmistakable words—and Subaru's head snapped up.
In Emilia's eyes, he saw nothing but emptiness.
And only then—looking at his own reflection in that void—did Subaru realize what he had done.
Carried away by momentum, swept up in the torrent of his emotions, he had said the unforgivable.
Trampling on even the purest, most sincere core of his own feelings, he had ruined everything with a child's tantrum.
If he defined their relationship as one of debts and repayments— "No—that's not—I didn't mean—"
Once the scales balanced, that would be the end.
If the selfless impulse to do something for someone had been contaminated by calculation, then that was the inevitable result.
"Enough. —Natsuki Subaru."
She had always called him by his first name—ever since the day they first met, warmly, familiarly.
And when she spoke his full name, Subaru understood with a terrible, too-late clarity that it was over.
He hung his head. Emilia did not reach out.
She turned, silver hair sweeping behind her, and faced the door— "Rem will be coming soon. Do as she says. Everything regarding your time in the capital—I'll leave it in her hands."
He couldn't answer. And she wasn't asking.
Emilia walked away. He didn't even have the courage to watch her go—let alone reach for her retreating form.
The physical distance growing between them. And beyond it, a far greater chasm of the heart.
"…You know…"
Suddenly, at the door, Emilia's hand on the handle paused. A whisper dropped into the room.
Not so much speaking to Subaru as to herself, she murmured in a voice barely above a breath— "I had hoped. That maybe Subaru would be the one person who wouldn't treat me differently. That he'd look at me like everyone else—like an ordinary girl, without any special treatment…"
It was she who had demanded fair treatment in the Royal Selection hall.
The fact that she was a half-elf—that single truth had forced upon her such painful years that even something as simple as that had become a wish.
But— "That's impossible."
Subaru murmured his own reply, equally quiet.
Her words hadn't been asking for an answer—so his murmur wasn't one either. Just words spoken to himself.
He turned over what she'd said, and shook his head weakly, without strength.
"Even if I dragged every last person in the world in front of me… I still couldn't do it. I could never, ever look at you—Emilia—the same way I look at anyone else."
That was, without question, the truth.
The door closed with a soft sound, and the air grew instantly still.
Subaru was left alone in the room. Curled up on the bed, his gaze wandered aimlessly.
A robe—hanging off the edge of the bed, nearly falling to the floor—caught his eye.
He reached out, pulled it to him, and held it close. It still seemed to carry the warmth of the one who had worn it, and he hugged it to his chest as though trying to keep that warmth from fading away.
—and so, on this day, Natsuki Subaru was, for the first time, truly alone in this other world.