—Exhaling deeply, he drew back the bowstring of resolve in the depths of his heart.
The girls he'd exchanged words with moments before, especially Petra's kindness, made his heart ache. Even Meili, with her honest-lacking little-devil attitude, and Flam, with her businesslike manner, had clearly been considerate of him in their own ways. Along with
"As expected of the 'Loli Master,' I see. Not exactly flattering to either side."
Whether it was when the nickname first started being used or not, Petra and the others wouldn't stay young forever. As long as he was lugging around the eternally youthful Beatrice, the nickname would never be stripped from him personally. Of course, if he ever fell out with Beatrice, that would be a different story, but— "If only that were possible."
This plan could probably have been achieved at a much lower difficulty level.
In truth, he'd never encountered a shadow-attribute Great Spirit friendly to humans other than Beatrice. That was probably because she'd been designed that way, but what the kin of the "
Regardless, Beatrice, as a specialist in shadow attributes, combined with her origins, meant she could unravel the essential factors of this plan. That was why timing was critical.
Even Beatrice, who was bound to the target through a soul contract, had to be absorbed through the forbidden spell.
The creaking sound of a bowstring growing taut could be felt distinctly.
And then, for what felt like the hundredth time, he was overwhelmed by the sight as he entered the library of "Taigeta"—vast shelves packed with an enormous quantity of books filling an entire floor, all part of the "Great Library Pleiades."
"Murak."
With full support from a Great Spirit and a brief incantation for maximum effect, that man had bounced lightly atop a tall bookshelf—and quietly hidden a single volume there.
Even from a distance, he could tell it was a book, but he couldn't make out whose name was on the cover.
The "Books of the Dead" kept in this library were all identical in appearance apart from their titles—even the thickness gave no distinguishing marks. When you thought about it, it was absurd: a child who fell ill at the age of five and a centenarian who'd lived a tumultuous century to die of old age—there was no way they'd end up as books of the same thickness.
This library clearly exploited the nature of Od Laguna, but the one who had it output in book form had to be the "Witch."
If so—why had the "Witch" gone out of her way to create such an obscure library?
"Because you don't want to add unnecessary noise to that once-in-a-lifetime moment when someone picks it up."
A statement the "Witch" would probably make. He said it aloud himself, and it felt so disturbingly correct that it made him feel sick.
He'd been trying his best not to remember the "Witch" in the first place. Ever since she'd died, as if in backlash to everything before, the "Witch" kept coming back to mind.
*"—No one can beat the you I created."* For a moment, he thought: if this was a library housing books chronicling the lives of the dead, then naturally, the "Witch's" book had to be somewhere in here too.
And— *"—Now look, it's my victory once again."* The voice he blocked from his ears, averted his eyes from, rejected with his soul and pushed away—her "Book of the Dead" was here as well.
"...What was there to win about, Priscilla?"
In their unforgettable final exchange, she'd worn a triumphant smile. Along with that smile came a declaration of victory, and even now, he didn't understand what it meant.
Not that understanding it would change anything. She was already gone. One could no longer exchange words or feelings with the departed.
But if this Great Library Pleiades made even one-sided understanding possible— "...You fool. No, I really am a fool. That was obviously just a pretext."
Everything was for the plan—a cover story he'd prepared to console himself in his grief, so those men would comfort him, all to make the scheme with the "Witch" he'd once abandoned come to fruition.
To have his heart genuinely shaken by it like this—was like a mummy hunter being haunted by mummies.
Above all— "Don't save me."
If he read the book, if he were scorched once more by the brilliance of that sun that had already sunk below the horizon, he might waver again—just as he had on the day he'd stopped being "the trailing star."
A foolish star unworthy of salvation, once more.
So— "—The star was to blame."
With that, he let himself give up, resumed his halted steps, and moved deeper into the library.
There was a single book hidden quietly atop the shelf—one whose title he couldn't see, yet he already knew whose name it bore.
If the man had secretly hidden a "Book of the Dead" he considered disadvantageous to himself, the book could only have one title. And finding that book, too, was a necessary piece of the puzzle to execute the plan.
The two "Books of the Dead" he'd wanted to find—his own and that man's—had been located.
If that was the case, all that remained was the moment of execution— "Good grief. Like a mischievous little brat causing trouble in a library..."
He muttered, scratching his head as he slowly approached the man's back. The other, unaware of his approach, was stepping away from the shelf where he'd just hidden the book, rambling on.
"If Ezzo-san the curiosity incarnate finds out, that's trouble... Besides, there's a good chance more and more people will be coming and going from now on. Should I dispose of all of them? How many are there in total—"
"—Dispose of what, brother?"
At the sound of his voice behind the mumbling back, the other man jumped with exaggerated alarm. Slowly turning around, his expression was faintly stiff—the look of someone clearly caught doing something shady.
Rather than calling out such a poor liar, he shrugged broadly instead.
"Whoa, easy there. I just made small talk."
"...Ah, sorry, sorry. Having someone overhear your muttering is pretty embarrassing, you know?"
"I can't say I relate to that feeling, but I'd rather not be made the bad guy here."
"Bad guy...?"
He tilted his head, and the other jerked his chin, directing attention behind him. Sure enough, tiny footsteps approached from that direction as Beatrice toddled over.
She squeezed her small body between the two of them, puffing out her cheeks.
"Hey, you—don't go startling Subaru out of nowhere. When Betty isn't watching, Subaru has the heart of a flea, apparently."
"The heart of a flea... My brother? I don't think that's his size at all."
"If that's based on my thick skin and nerve, I'll happily accept the assessment, but what exactly did you see to come up with that?"
"—Fair point. Well, maybe he knows more than you think, yeah?"
With his words defending him while patting her head, Beatrice pouted. He considered for a moment, then held back from giving an honest answer.
If he said he knew more than what they'd discussed here—the awkward distance with his parents before coming to this world, the inferiority complex, all of that—what would they think?
Of course, he wouldn't do anything so foolish. He'd been driven to such impulsive urges many times, but each time, he'd endured by fidgeting with the metal fittings on his helmet.
His ritual when thinking, the metallic sound that reminded him not to forget the plan.
"That's quite loaded, saying you know a lot about Subaru in front of Betty. You'd better not underestimate the sweet relationship between a spirit and her contractor."
"Sweet, huh. Well, well—sorry for interrupting your heated honeymoon."
As he fiddled with the seams of his helmet, Beatrice crossed her arms, thoroughly displeased. Trying not to further sour her mood, he shrugged, and the man awkwardly scratched his own cheek.
"Don't worry about it. Beako and I flirt whenever we get the chance. Right now, this library takes priority, right?"
"Thank you for your consideration. No—joking aside, let me properly thank you. Cutting even three days out of your schedule for me must've been tough. Beako, too—sorry for dragging your partner along. Thanks for coming with me."
"Betty and Subaru are two bodies with one soul, so being together is only natural. —Also, Betty isn't merciful enough to repeat the same warning, so make sure you correct yourself."
"Roger that. You're very kind, your child there."
"Yeah, I am."
The man laughed awkwardly, and Beatrice softly took his hand.
Somehow, the conversation wasn't flowing. Saying they were on the same wavelength sounded too much like he and the other were compatible, which wasn't exactly reassuring, but their banter should still have been flowing naturally. The stiffness now suggested the other had seen something terribly inconvenient. Or perhaps—the book hidden under a different title than what he'd anticipated.
For example, one of the two books he'd just been thinking about.
"Al, um, how are you holding up?"
"—What's with that, unable to gauge the proper distance, like some teenager's parent? ...As you can see, no results. I thought three days would be enough, but it's genuinely hopeless. The number of books in here—it's like finding a needle in a desert, seriously."
"—B-but, don't give up! I'll search too! I'll help!"
"Whoa, brother?"
The other had suddenly lunged forward with such intensity that he instinctively recoiled.
He would help—the other had sworn his unwavering sincerity again and again. He didn't think it was a lie, nor did he find it irritating. After all, he wasn't expecting anything.
His greatest expectation, the one thing he'd wanted, had not been fulfilled.
So— "Stop with that energy that makes it impossible to tell which of us came here. I'd hate to get all hot-blooded like you—wouldn't exactly be in character."
"Then become like that. Let's both be desperate. Three days—give it everything. And then..."
The voice trembled. Not his—this time, the other's voice trembled.
He'd empathized too deeply, or the wave that should have passed had surged back, bringing emotions to the surface again. Regret and sorrow—he felt them more than most. He understood that.
It was the authority, the curse, that only he and this man in the entire world possessed.
He was simply the man who could save what he loved with that love—and the one who couldn't.
And if that man's love was allowed to persist, eventually, a being would be born that would end the world.
To prevent that, at the very least, he had to fulfill the mission of "the trailing star"— "—Subaru."
Beatrice gently clasped the hand of the man who'd gone silent, voice trembling and head bowed, and softly spoke his name.
The emotion behind the call was serene—bearing a mysterious, sacred dignity, so unlike her cute appearance, that proved she too was a Great Spirit who had lived through the long ages.
The one being addressed couldn't respond, still holding his breath.
Watching this, he decided—fidgeting with the seams of his helmet one more time. One or two more exchanges of words, and then he'd strike.
As the other had said, the window for searching this tower's library was three days. The more time that was consumed, the more his thoughts would turn elsewhere. So he had to move before that happened.
"—Are three days really not enough?"
The other's strained words sounded almost pleading—perhaps a sign that he, too, was feeling nervous. He couldn't help but consider.
Three days. Searching for the "Book of the Dead" as the other intended. If it was found, and he could learn everything the vanished woman had left behind—what then?
He could say it with certainty: it wouldn't change anything.
This wound wouldn't heal. The pain wouldn't fade. He didn't even want it to.
That was why, knowing full well his answer would diverge from the question, he deliberately replied: "—The star was to blame."
Even he didn't know whether he was looking at that star through positive or negative eyes.
Of the two stars in this place—Pleiades and Aldebaran—no, Subaru and Rigel, pressing them together, whom had he blamed and whom had he comforted? Even he couldn't say.
He'd gotten too sentimental. He was fumbling the conversational rally just as badly.
If it kept going like this, he'd be dragged into saying something suspicious too. He'd made up his mind. Next line—then he'd strike.
He'd trigger it the moment the other finished his next words, after being named for a star and naming another star in return. He'd channel mana through the gate, weave the magical formula, and open the gate of the forbidden spell.
And then— "—Al."
And then, his eyes met those of
"—Or Shamac."
It wasn't him who was chanting. He understood immediately.
Aldebaran had lost once more—in a battle he absolutely could not afford to lose.
*"—Now look, it's my victory once again."* He heard the voice and the triumphant, irretrievable smile of a beloved woman. The next instant, Aldebaran's world went dark.
△▼△▼△▼△ "—Natsuki-dono, I realize this offers little comfort, but your concern was well-founded. He was refining mana and weaving a magical formula. Had he been one move off, the positions would have been reversed entirely. I fully stand by your judgment that your course of action was the best one."
Wouldn't there have been some other way to resolve it—without anyone getting hurt?
"Boss, I... I don't get it, y'know? But—but this much I can say, even though I don't get nothin'! ...I'm glad you're safe, Boss. That much, I'm happy about."
Similarly given an observer's role and no doubt chafing at his inability to do more, the younger companion threw Subaru a lifeline with straightforward words and a sturdy arm around his shoulder.
And it wasn't just him standing by Subaru's side— "Did Subaru make the right choice? ...Betty could have shouldered it all for him, and he'd have gotten hurt anyway—what an idiot."
"Beatrice..."
"But that forbidden spell was something Betty and Subaru did together, wasn't it? Subaru prepared the formula, Betty structured the magic, Subaru chanted, and Betty channeled the mana. So it's half Betty's responsibility. Isn't it cheating to shoulder it all yourself?"
Subaru gritted his teeth, and his right hand—clenched so tightly his fingers wouldn't open—gripped the black gem that contained the only way to stop him, the one thing his own inadequacy had forced him to resort to.
The dark gem that had locked away Al, who'd had no other means of stopping him.
"—Sorry. There's somewhere I need to be."
Still kneeling, feeling every organ inside his body trembling, Subaru rose to his feet and slowly made his way out of the Taigeta library.
Taking Beatrice's hand, along with Garfiel and Ezzo who worried after him, Subaru urged forward legs that threatened to collapse at any moment, made his way down the corridor, and arrived at his destination.
And then— "Oh my, big brother? What's wrong? Did you find what you were looking for in the library?"
Spotting Subaru in the doorway, Meili—who had been sitting on a barrel in the corner of the room along with the Little Crimson Scorpion perched on her head—tilted hers in puzzlement.
That healthy, bratty demeanor of hers panged his heart, but more so— "—Subaru, what's wrong? Did you forget something?"
At Meili's call, the girl who'd had her back to him turned around. She'd been tidying a cooking pot from dinner, and her round eyes blinked at the sight of Subaru.
"—Ah."
Seeing the girl before him, Subaru's body and mind seized.
She tilted her head curiously for a moment, then quickly said "Subaru?" and straightened her bent knee. Welcoming the tottering, unsteady Subaru head-on— "Beatrice, what happened? Subaru seems a little..."
"Something did happen, yes. But Betty won't say it from her lips. ...She just seemed to want to see Petra very much right now."
"Me?"
Blinking in surprise at Beatrice's words, Petra's expression shifted in that wonderfully readable way of hers. Watching those rich emotional changes up close, Subaru felt the stiffness in his cheeks begin to loosen.
"Hmm~?" Meili let out a knowing sigh behind them as Petra stood facing Subaru. After a moment's hesitation, Subaru spoke.
"Petra, I'm going to say something strange, but... can I hug you?"
"—You don't have to ask. Just go ahead and—oh, wait, no. That's no good. Even just thinking about it, my heart's going to break from beating so fa—"
Petra smiled mischievously, but before she could finish her gentle answer, Subaru had already extended his arms, pulled her in, and held her tight against his chest.
"E-erm..."
Bewildered by the sudden embrace, Petra—who'd long since grown steady and unflappable—showed a rare, unmistakable fluster.
But there wasn't a single person present who could tease her about it.
Because— "Hey, Subaru, are you okay?"
A small hand reached gently from within the embrace, softly touching his cheek.
At the girl's question—from that close, right in front of him, so near their breaths and heartbeats almost touched—Subaru swallowed hard, and forced a smile.
"I'm—okay."
Of course. Because Petra was alive and well.
It wasn't just Petra. Beatrice, Garfiel, Meili, Ezzo, Flam—everyone was fine. Everyone in the tower, everyone who couldn't make it to the tower, was safe.
All the terrible things that had happened—they had all been undone.
Of course, not everything that had happened was terrible, and he knew that not all of it had been undone.
There had been confrontation and reconciliation, betrayal and friendship, farewell and reunion, curses and oaths, hatred and love—and there had been Aldebaran and Natsuki Subaru.
"—I'm not... okay."
Holding Petra close, unable to take his eyes off the magic gem in her hand, the words slipped out.
And the weak confession that escaped his lips couldn't end with just a strained voice. Tears—his true feelings—spilled from the corners of his eyes, drop by drop.
"—Not okay."
He'd wanted to stand tall and say "I'm fine," to repay Petra and the others—who had let him "Return by Death," recover what couldn't be recovered, and accepted being left behind in a world that was rewritten.
He couldn't do it. He was too sad, too frustrated, too pathetic in his own inadequacy to hold his chest high.
"I'm not okay—"
Not okay, even though Petra had sacrificed so much. Not okay, even though
And finally, for Al—with whom he'd never even gotten the chance to speak— "I'm so sor—"
"—Subaru!"
A sudden, high, sharp voice cut off the apology before it could leave his lips.
It was Petra's voice, peering at him from within the embrace she held against her chest. Her round eyes shook with vast, overwhelming emotion, and she brought her hands to his tear-streaked face.
"You finally said it. That you're not okay."
"—Ah."
"You don't have to be that scared. You don't have to carry everything alone. Right, Beatrice?"
"...Naturally. Betty is Subaru's partner."
Pressed by Petra, Beatrice pressed herself tightly against Subaru's body. Smiling still at his bewildered form, Petra turned.
"Meili."
"Huh? I'm fine, you know. Petra and the others are enough for—"
"Meili."
"...Fine."
Hopping down from her barrel with a sour expression, Meili radiated reluctance from every pore as she took her place at Subaru's side and gave the hem of his clothes a tiny tug. As if speaking on behalf of its owner, the Little Crimson Scorpion that had sprung from her hair climbed onto Subaru's shoulder and nuzzled against his cheek.
"Garf."
"Right here! Boss!"
"Guh!?"
The force of him launching himself forward slammed into Subaru's back, forcing a pained grunt. Catching himself before he toppled forward onto Petra, he gritted his teeth and held on. He held—but— "Are Ezzo-san and Flam coming too?"
"I'm an outsider—I'll keep my distance. That said, I am on Natsuki-dono's side."
"I just got here, so I'm not fully up to speed... but understood."
The presence that arrived from behind settled gently against his right hip without hesitation.
With that, the full surround-embrace was complete—drawn into its warmth, Subaru let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
"What is this."
From the outside—from Ezzo's perspective, who was watching them right now—what an idiotic picture they must be making. A big, fluffy cluster, all piled together like fools.
"It's fine! You're the one who taught me it was okay to be a fool, Subaru!"
"Did I ever do that?"
"You did."
"...Among everyone I know, there's probably nobody smarter than Petra."
He thought so. Surely that was right. That was precisely why she could see it so clearly. This was what it meant to be truly brilliant—not at all like Abel's brand of smart-as-a-fool.
"I've decided."
Still sniffling, face a mess from tears, cradled from all sides by kind, warm people, utterly and completely not okay—but he had decided.
"Al, you seemed to hate me enough that you couldn't forgive me."
He didn't know the real reason why. But he wouldn't let it end in ignorance.
So many things had nearly ended, and the will of so many had refused to let them end—and that was why Natsuki Subaru, who was not okay in the slightest, had made his decision.
It was this— "—I will save you, too."
Even if it meant making an enemy of the world—no matter what horrors it entailed—this was the oath of Natsuki Subaru, the boy who had wrapped up good and bad alike and made them all "Return by Death."
Hearing that oath, Petra Reiteli smiled with satisfaction, and— "That's the Subaru I know."
—So smiled the girl who had never become the "Witch of Melancholy."