Patchwork, patchwork, shaping it into form.
Patchwork, patchwork, molding it into shape.
Patchwork, patchwork, bringing it to color.
Patchwork, patchwork, patching and piecing, drawing it closer to completion.
Patchwork, patchwork, patchwork, patchwork, patchwork, patchwork, patchwork.
Patchwork, patchwork, patching together—still incomplete, even now as the patching continues—.
"—Hey, do you know my name?"
At that question, the girl—Amyu Sayers—drew a small, sharp breath.
It was an utterly unremarkable, rambling sort of question.
It should have been the kind of boring question that required neither much time nor courage to answer. If she knew, she could say she knew. If she didn't, she could say she didn't. That should have been enough.
"———"
Yet the moment those words registered, Amyu found herself voiceless.
Life is a chain of choices.
That was a truth she had learned deeply, through lived experience in her short existence—she had only just turned fourteen.
Life demands that you make decisions in everything, no matter how trivial.
It begins with the small, everyday matters and extends to the momentous decisions that determine the course of one's life. But regardless of scale, life is made entirely of decisions.
And now, the question thrown at Amyu Sayers carried more weight than anything in her fourteen years of life—perhaps it was the greatest decision she would ever face.
And yet, it was precisely the same unremarkable, boring question she had just been asked.
"—Hey, do you know my name?"
The repetition of the question tightened around Amyu's throat.
However, the questioner himself apparently harbored no such intent. The fact that he repeated the question out of kindness—that there was consideration behind it, and yet it felt so imbalanced—was something Amyu could sense all too well.
If the questioner was the one tormenting Amyu, the questioner was also the one who worried about her the most.
She could tell—truly, genuinely—that what he sought was nothing more than an answer to his question.
And so, with no clues to guide her, Amyu had no choice but to grope blindly for the correct answer through the dialogue within her own heart.
—What answer, exactly, would be the right one?
Would knowing be more aligned with the questioner's expectations, or would not knowing?
Or should she say she knew even if she didn't? Should she say she didn't know even if she did?—Amyu's heart screamed at the suffocating two choices.
"—Hey, do you know my name? Do you?"
The question was repeated again, this time with more deliberate pauses between the words—as if he were anxious that he wasn't getting through.
That anxiety scraped at Amyu's chest. Honestly, she was certain of one thing: neither "yes" nor "no" could possibly be the answer the questioner wanted.
She couldn't stay silent, couldn't leave the answer ungiven, couldn't avoid the decision—she wouldn't be let go.
She wouldn't be released.—That much, at least, she knew without doubt.
"———"
Unable to produce a voice, Amyu stared straight into the black eyes directly in front of her and deliberated.
In those eyes that seemed hollow, she saw her own wretched reflection—haggard, drawn.
She was always aware that she was, by most measures, reasonably attractive—not that she would say so out loud—but that appearance had been stripped from her entirely. Now she was nothing but a creature cowering before the dominating presence of the questioner.
Her face looked as though decades had been ripped away from her in an instant, exhausted beyond recognition— So weak, so frail, as though she might die simply from the pressure of his question alone— "—Hey, do you know my name?"
And then, that deathly sense of oppression unexpectedly kindled a spark of hope within Amyu.
While she struggled to breathe, her chest feeling crushed, a premonition seized her: perhaps if she answered the question, she would be freed from this suffocating weight.
The moment she thought it, the oppressive heaviness suffusing her entire body began to ebb.
The suffocation born of paranoia—of not knowing what she should answer. She crushed down the anxiety surrounding the initial question, desperate to be liberated from that very suffocation.
It might have been a kind of self-preservation instinct, but to Amyu in this moment, it felt nothing short of revelation. And so, her lips trembling, she fixed her gaze once more upon those black eyes.
"—Hey, do you know my name?"
Answer the question, and this suffocating moment would end.
Holding to that single thought, Amyu finally forced her trembling tongue to move and wove words from the air.
"N-no…"
She didn't know. Following her own heart, Amyu gave that answer.
She released the tangled thoughts that had been swirling in her mind and answered the question from a place of pure, unadorned honesty.
In truth, she didn't know the name of the questioner in front of her, nor his face.
Living as she did in a remote backwater—a place that could only be called the edge of the world—even the great affairs of a kingdom she had heard of from afar felt like events happening in another universe entirely.
To her, no matter how important he might be, he was a stranger— "—I see."
Just two words.
Whether the weight behind them was wistfulness or disappointment, she couldn't tell.
But Amyu's decision had been made. The rest was up to the questioner.
If life was a chain of choices and decisions, then the same applied to everyone.
Just as Amyu had chosen, the questioner would choose too.
"———"
Quietly, the fourteen-year-old girl awaited the questioner's decision.
—in the center of a village where, now, she was the only one left, she waited for an answer.
——— "Hey, Subaru. Shouldn't we stop for lunch soon?"
Hearing that voice,
It was already past noon, and now that someone had mentioned it, he could feel the hunger. The reason he hadn't noticed before was that he'd been focused entirely on walking.
The highway stretched on and on, endless, requiring his full attention just to keep going. If he thought about what lay ahead, the sheer, unfathomable length of the journey was enough to weigh on his spirit.
"That said, breaks are important, huh? Sorry about that,
"Nope, I'm totally fine. I was just worried about you, Subaru, since you've been walking so long. If you're really okay, though…"
"No, no, my stomach was just about to start growling. My back and stomach were about to fuse together. Phew, that was close."
"Really? That sounds like it was seriously dangerous…"
Hearing Subaru's exaggerated answer—hands pressed dramatically against his abdomen—the silver-haired girl, Emilia, covered her mouth and giggled.
A girl with the most adorable features in all the world, smiling, her voice like the chiming of a silver bell. Seeing that smile up close, Subaru scratched his head and cracked a grin of his own.
And then, from just beside the two of them— "I hope you're not teasing Emilia too much. No matter how hungry you are, there's no way your back and stomach could actually fuse together."
"Oh?"
Turning toward the voice, Subaru found
Seeing that expression, Beatrice's perfectly shaped brows drew together in a sharp frown.
"That look on your face, Subaru—it's bothering me. What's the matter?"
"It's just that you said 'starving' and it was adorable. Can you say it again?"
"Like I would, I suppose! Why do you always catch the weirdest parts of what I say, I suppose?!"
Her face flushing red, Beatrice lashed out at Subaru's utterly frivolous quip. Watching the exchange, Subaru and Emilia exchanged glances and shared a laugh.
Seeing that, Beatrice puffed out her cheeks even more—adorably so. This feeling was, without a doubt, genuine. And if he said so directly, he'd probably ruin her mood.
Confirming that for himself, Subaru rolled up his sleeves and declared, "All right then—I'll take Emilia-tan's generous offer and call lunch. Today, you can look forward to my culinary skills. Any requests?"
"Oh! Then I'd like you to use mayonnaise. You know,
"You got it! If it's Emilia-tan's order, I'm more than happy to oblige! Thanks to Ram, we've got plenty in stock. She's finally starting to see the light about mayonnaise…"
"—Stop saying stupid things."
"Whoa!?"
Setting down his pack and beginning to set up camp on the roadside, Subaru was startled when he noticed a slender figure standing beside him. Ram's pale-pink eyes looked down at him imperiously.
Arms folded, standing tall and imposing—a girl clad in a maid's uniform who radiated an aura completely devoid of any desire to serve.
"That's quite the greeting, Ram. At least let me finish my sentence."
"Hah! Save the comedy. Ram helped with the mayonnaise purely under orders. Do you think Ram would ever place her trust in something so white and sour? Disgusting."
"Disgusting is a bit much! Come on—you yourself can't deny the devastating power of mayonnaise on steamed sweet potatoes! That taste isn't a lie, and I won't let you say it is!"
Slathering generous amounts of mayo over salt-kissed, fluffy steamed sweet potatoes—that divine, sweet, forbidden taste. For anyone who appreciated mayonnaise, this was the promised land—a harmony between potato and mayo that could never fade.
Recalling that magnificent fusion, that symphony of flavor, Subaru's stomach growled. Right beside him, Emilia and Beatrice's eyes were gleaming—they'd clearly been imagining the same thing.
"See? Look at those two adorable gluttons react! And you still want to call mayonnaise heretical?!"
"…You know, Subaru might have a point. Steamed sweet potatoes are so wonderful that they give even that mysterious condiment called mayonnaise genuine value."
"That's not—I mean, that's backwards! No, well, it's not exactly backwards either, but you're stubborn, sis!"
Ram refused to concede that the glory belonged to mayonnaise rather than the sweet potato.
Despite her obstinance, Subaru could see that beneath the bickering, what flowed between them was not hostility but an unmistakable bond of trust and affection.
In truth, Emilia and Ram had built an ideal relationship. As master and servant, it was a touch awkward that Ram seemed to lack any real sense of subordination, but there was a connection between them that went even deeper.
And Subaru knew that better than anyone.
Anyway— "As much as I hate to contradict you, sis, Emilia-tan's word is law around here. That's our party's policy. So today's lunch is officially the all-mayonnaise menu!"
"Wheee! Yay!"
Emilia clapped her hands with delight while Ram let out an exasperated sigh. The fact that she didn't push back any further showed just how soft she really was toward Emilia.
Of course, as a dyed-in-the-wool mayo fanatic, Subaru was hardly an impartial judge on this menu.
"Naturally, Beako's the same as me—total mayo lover. You're thrilled, right?"
"I won't deny it. But your smug look is insufferable, I suppose. This anger of Betty's won't be so easily quelled. In exchange, I demand a delicious meal, I suppose."
"Heheh—right away, my lady!"
Subaru bowed with theatrical gravity at Beatrice's cute demand, and only after confirming that Emilia and the others looked satisfied did he set about preparing the meal.
That said, there was only so much one could do with an outdoor meal. Of course, if he used magic he could manage fire and water to some degree, but— "I'm sorry, Subaru. I wish I could actually help."
"Nothing to apologize for. This is exactly where my ingenuity shines. In fact, you can fall for me all over again for my creative problem-solving."
"Oh, you dummy."
Smiling faintly at the laughing Emilia, Subaru set about putting thought and care into the meal with whatever ingredients he had.
Food was the fuel of daily life. He didn't want to cut corners here. Checking the contents of his pack, Subaru wracked his brain trying to prepare a meal that would satisfy everyone's preferences.
Every member of their party was the kind of person who ate with genuine relish.
It wasn't something he'd thought about much before, but seeing someone enjoy a meal you'd cooked was deeply gratifying. It was motivating, even, for the person doing the cooking.
If something this simple could do it, he should have conveyed that joy to his mother properly.
"Hmm hmm hmm…"
Resting that wistful thought in a corner of his mind, Subaru smiled as he glanced up at Emilia and the others, who were peering eagerly at his cooking with anticipation. He could hear humming—they were all tone-deaf.
"Oh my, the cook today is big brother? That's a little worrying…"
While Subaru was busy with meal prep, Meili popped up, fiddling with her thick blue braid and casting a sultry, age-inappropriate gaze his way. Subaru returned it with a puzzled look.
"What do you mean, 'worrying'? I won't feed any insolent little brat."
"My, my, that's abuse, that is. Besides, big brother always tries to drown everything in that mayonnaise stuff, doesn't he? I'm really not a fan of that."
"Wh—what?! Even you don't understand the appeal of mayonnaise?!"
"Don't make that 'end of the world' face, honestly…"
At Subaru's stunned expression, Meili sighed with exasperation. But the shock Subaru had received from her words was immeasurable.
It might not have been quite the end of the world, but by the time he came to, it was roughly the impact of learning the year was over.
"Even so, you're taking it a bit too dramatically, aren't you? Meili is simply saying she can't keep pace with your habit of trying to pair mayonnaise with every ingredient."
"Hmm…"
The one who backed up Meili's stance—while Subaru struggled to cope—was Julius, the handsome man whose very walk seemed elegant.
Approaching them, Julius offered Subaru a light smile before adding, "To elaborate, I share Meili's view. Mayonnaise itself isn't terrible, but when it's forced upon everything, even the initial impression is diluted. Show some restraint."
"You're a real pest, you know that? This was between me and Meili, so there was really no need to stick your nose in."
"Maintaining a healthy group environment is the duty of every member. If discord is left unchecked, it buds, and then blooms—and once it does, no amount of regret will undo it. I consider it my obligation to speak up before that happens. Surely you understand?"
"You really are something else with those roundabout ways of saying things!"
Julius had a way of needling Subaru's shortcomings with his unnecessarily convoluted phrasing, and Subaru found himself provoked into raising his voice.
Listening to the exchange, Emilia burst out laughing— "Fufufu."
"Emilia-tan?"
"You and Julius are such good friends, just like always!"
Emilia's adoring gaze turned Subaru's shoulders to lead. Julius, in the same boat, touched his forelock and closed one eye with weary resignation.
In this one moment, Subaru and Julius were in complete agreement—but there was a vast gulf between that agreement and how Emilia perceived it.
To her gem-like amethyst eyes, the exchange between Subaru and Julius looked like a heartwarming scene between best pals.
"Look, Emilia-tan—like I always say, that's really…"
"Is it really?"
It was, by any measure, a tremendous misunderstanding.
As Subaru prepared to explain to Emilia, who tilted her head innocently— "It's just that—"
"———"
The words of rebuttal he'd been about to voice caught in his throat. His tongue went stiff.
In that instant, Emilia—who had been smiling and tilting her head—froze. No, not just Emilia.
Everyone around Subaru, who had been chatting so pleasantly up to that very moment, locked into place exactly as they had been—all of them, completely rigid.
—as though the world itself had stopped time, waiting for Subaru's next reaction.
But that wasn't the case. The wind still blew, the scent of grass and trees lingered, and boiling water still bubbled.
The world had not stopped. —Only Emilia and the others had.
As if Subaru's mind was struggling to catch up with his attempt to recreate them in his imagination.
Only Emilia and the others had stopped— "—Master! I scouted ahead real far!"
"———"
Without warning, something foreign broke into that frozen silence.
An figure leaped before Subaru, who sat beside a large stone with a fire burning—bounding into view with tremendous energy.
"
The tall, beautiful woman beamed Subaru a radiant smile.
Long brown hair pulled into a single ponytail, healthy fair skin exposed with abandon. She wore her womanly, voluptuous figure with no restraint, and—this was Shaula—her smile was utterly carefree.
"———"
But Subaru's response to this overwhelming display of affection was far from welcoming. For one thing, she had landed right where Emilia had been standing moments ago.
Her loud, boisterous leap had scattered Emilia like mist and sent all the others vanishing into thin air. Subaru's brow furrowed at this fact.
"H-hey, what's wrong, Master? Did I… did I do something again?"
"…No, it's nothing. Don't worry about it. It's not your fault."
"Really? Then I won't worry! Oh, but Master, you're making food? That makes me so happy! I'm absolutely starving—"
Shaula's expression clouded for an instant at Subaru's dismissal, but she immediately took his words at face value, forgetting her momentary anxiety, and latched onto his arm.
Pressing her body against him, he felt her overwhelming softness through his elbow and shoulder—yet Subaru shook her off with a brusque "Enough, get off."
"Mmf! Master, you're so mean… But I won't be discouraged! I'm going to keep advancing—aiming straight for your heart, your desires, and your manly feelings!"
"Sounds like you're targeting everything along the centerline… And don't grab the arm of someone who's cooking. What if I cut myself or get burned?"
"Then I'll gently lick the wound! I'll lick it and lick it and never let go, twenty-four seven!"
"That'd make it soggy…"
Shaula raised both fists in a pose that was more about enthusiasm than actual force, and Subaru slumped his shoulders with a weak laugh.
Seeing that, Shaula perked up. "Master, did you just laugh? Was something funny?"
"You were funny. You're funny."
"Wait, is that… a proposal…?"
"What!? Of course not!"
Without understanding how the conversation had leaped there, Subaru flicked Shaula's forehead in protest.
Receiving the flick, Shaula groaned, "Auugh~"
"But come on, 'You're a funny woman' is classic romance dialogue between a man and woman! The only line that comes after that is 'Be my woman,' right?!"
"Where exactly does this warped knowledge of yours come from? That trope is so old it's practically fossilized even back where I'm from…"
In shoujo manga or otome games, the smooth-talking male lead who could pull off that kind of first-meeting scenario wasn't uncommon—but Subaru wasn't sure it still held up.
Regardless, finding Shaula amusing wasn't the same as pursuing her.
It was just that Shaula's reactions were— for Subaru— "—You're unpredictable, and that's refreshing."
"———"
"That's why talking to you is… not bad. That much is certain."
He wouldn't go so far as to say conversations with anyone other than Shaula were painful.
But whenever he talked with someone else, Subaru was often forced to confront his own inadequacies—and that, yes, was painful.
No one else was to blame.—The one at fault was always himself.
"I'm the one who's always wrong. So…"
"Does that mean this time it really is a proposal!?"
"I said it's not!"
The moment for a serious conversation evaporated in a heartbeat, and Subaru's shout only made Shaula blow up in dissatisfaction, flailing her arms and legs.
"But but, this is totally the classic trope where you breathe fresh air into someone's dull, gray existence, isn't it? That's the ultimate, most classic romance of all!"
"No, seriously, where does this inexhaustible wellspring of warped knowledge come from…"
What had been intended as a somewhat serious conversation was thoroughly derailed by Shaula, and Subaru gave up.
Letting his cheeks relax into a daze, Subaru focused on cooking.
Beside him, on the edge of the highway, the prepared meal was for two people.
Subaru and Shaula—that was all. There was no portion for Emilia, Beatrice, Ram, Meili, Julius, or anyone else—even though they should have been right there, enjoying the conversation.
—Reconsidering that fact, Subaru's chest ached with a terrible hollowness.
Patchwork, patchwork, shaping it into form.
Patchwork, patchwork, molding it into shape.
Patchwork, patchwork, bringing it to color.
Patchwork, patchwork, patching and piecing, drawing it closer to completion.
——— Being reminded over and over again of one's own incompleteness was soul-crushing.
It was obviously unhealthy even to imagine, but actually being placed in such an environment—there, one could vividly experience the sensation of one's very soul wearing thin.
In blunt terms, that was precisely the state of Natsuki Subaru's heart.
"Master, Master, where are we going next?"
"Let me think…"
In high spirits, Shaula walked beside Subaru with a tune on her lips.
Raising his gaze at her question and looking down the highway ahead, Subaru considered.
"For now, I'd suggest heading west. You're aiming for a settlement, right? If you'd rather avoid people, just turn around and dive into the Great Waterfall."
"That's a lovely suggestion from sis… I'll keep the sentiment in mind."
Not just honest advice, but laced with poison—that was so very Ram. Committing that to memory, Subaru decided to follow the advice and head west.
"I'm going to keep heading west. …What about you?"
"Huh? Obviously, I'm sticking right by Master's side! We spent so long apart—now I can't stand to be separated for even a second. From good morning to good morning, Shaula will be right there watching over you, so please take care of me!"
"From good morning to good morning… that's terrifying! That's all day!"
"And every day after that, too."
Shivering at the fairly intense stalker-like declaration, Subaru looked troubled.
Honestly, walking with Shaula gave him a strange feeling.
Subaru, dark with guilt and a murky sense of sin—and Shaula, wild and unreserved. The pairing might have been balanced in terms of tension, the plus and minus offsetting each other. Leaving aside Subaru, who found genuine comfort in Shaula's presence, though—he couldn't see what benefit Shaula herself gained from being with him.
"That Master is Master—that's the most important thing in the world to me."
"…I honestly don't get it. Are you really going to stick with me forever?"
"Of course! Until death do us part! The love grown from all that time apart isn't going to wither at a thing like this~ From now on, no matter what happens, I'm never leaving Master's side. I'll even have enough kids to fill a baseball team!"
"That's quite the fastball…"
Shaula puffed out her chest and gazed at him with sparkling eyes. Subaru shielded his face with his palm, sighing—a complicated tangle of emotions.
Shaula's direct manner of expression—whether one could call it courtship or not—he couldn't quite say, but as a man, it wasn't exactly unpleasant.
Setting aside her eccentric behavior, Shaula was beautiful and attractive.
"———"
And yet, Natsuki Subaru did not waver under Shaula's seduction.
Because such human emotions were a privilege reserved only for truly human people. In other words, something forever out of his current reach.
"I think you should be a little nicer to Shaula, Subaru. She's trying so hard—it's sad, isn't it?"
At Subaru's hesitation, the silver-bell voice suddenly interjected. Glancing to the side, he saw Emilia peering into his face.
At that adorable, slightly sulky expression, Subaru closed one eye.
"…You might say that, Emilia-tan, but that's pretty cruel. You know how I feel about you."
"Hmm… maybe. Maybe you're right. Sorry. Of course I'm lonely too, but I think it's no good to keep moping. Because…"
"Because?"
"Because I'm already—"
Emilia's amethyst eyes narrowed as she was about to continue. Subaru instinctively wanted to stop her from saying what came next—but that was impossible.
Refusing to listen to Emilia's words was harder than ignoring the words of a god.
However— "Oh!"
Though he couldn't stop of his own volition, being interrupted by external factors was permissible.
Suddenly hearing a commotion approaching from behind, Subaru turned his attention away from Emilia and moved to the side of the highway, clearing the path. The approaching sound of wheels announced the advance of a dragon carriage.
Reflexively pulling Shaula's arm, the two of them escaped the dragon carriage's path.
"My, my, Master, you're so forceful…"
"Let go."
Seizing on the arm-pulling, Shaula tried to cling to him, but Subaru elegantly dodged. Shaula, rejected, slammed body-first into a tree along the roadside with a "Gyafun!" and a cry of pain.
Leaving Shaula rubbing her reddened nose, Subaru waited for the dragon carriage to pass and was about to step back onto the highway when— "Hm?"
Up ahead, the dragon carriage that had overtaken them screeched to a halt.
It didn't look like a mechanical failure. That left only one explanation for the stop—Subaru and his group.
The hour was still bright, but the road was deserted. Subaru's guard went up briefly—could it be bandits?
"—Could that be Natsuki Subaru?"
But that vigilance evaporated the moment the person on the driver's seat called out.
Hearing his name called, Subaru relaxed his guard and approached the young man who had climbed down from the driver's seat.
A gray-haired young man about the same age as Subaru.
His features appeared delicate, but his build was surprisingly sturdy. He didn't quite give the impression of someone doing manual labor, but neither was it the look of someone entirely removed from it.
Putting those first impressions aside, what mattered to Subaru was that this young man recognized him and had called him by name.
"Oh, it really is Natsuki-san! It's been a while."
"Uh, well…"
The young man approached with the manner of someone who was at least an acquaintance, even if the distance between them was subtle. Hesitating over how to respond, Subaru glanced around.
Emilia and Beatrice, receiving his gaze, shook their heads—they had no idea who this was either. If even Emilia and the others didn't know, Subaru was at a loss. But it felt wrong to casually engage in familiar conversation.
That was one of Subaru's specialty moves—but under the circumstances, he didn't want to do it.
Watching Subaru fumble, the young man furrowed his well-shaped brows.
"Oh my, have you forgotten? It's me—Regin Suewen. My brother, Otto Suewen, has been in your care. We met once before, in that village."
"Regin…? Oh—Otto's—!"
"The way you say 'Otto' makes it sound like he's someone else entirely," the young man said with a wry smile.
At the awkward phrasing, Subaru clapped his hands in understanding. He didn't actually recognize Regin, but he certainly knew Otto.
Come to think of it, Regin and Otto shared many facial features. They were unmistakably brothers, and it was equally certain that this young man had met Subaru before.
"Sorry, sorry. My head's been kind of tangled up lately. The name just didn't come to me right away."
"No, it's understandable—you're a busy man. I've heard about the Royal Selection even out here in the backwoods. …I hope my brother hasn't been causing trouble?"
"Oh, Otto causing trouble? Not at all! We've all been helped by him in so many ways."
"That's right. Otto's been a huge asset to the whole camp… more or less. The reality is things would've fallen apart in a lot more places without him."
"Oh, thank goodness…"
Regin, who had been somewhat timid, looked slightly relieved upon hearing of his brother's situation. Then, alternating his gaze between Subaru and Shaula, who stood a little further off— "Setting that aside—Natsuki-san, what are you doing in a place like this? Walking the highway without even a dragon carriage must be terribly arduous…"
"Well, I'd love to use a dragon carriage if I could, but circumstances make that difficult. As for what I'm doing…"
Subaru paused, considering.
Then, finding the right words— "I'm right in the middle of re-examining myself… a 'journey of self-discovery,' you could say."
"A journey of self-discovery?"
"Yeah. A journey of self-discovery… ha, ha, ha."
His own words struck him as funny, and Subaru couldn't help but laugh.
"Self-discovery" was a phrase synonymous with youth, but was there any more fitting description for what he was going through now? The thought itself was absurd enough to be hilarious.
Regin seemed to sense something was off and looked at him with concern. "Are you quite alright? For a moment, I thought—I had delayed in recognizing you, and I worried it might be because of your health. You look so different from before…"
"My condition's fine, seriously. As for my mood—well, I'm a step away from rock bottom. But meeting you here is what kept me from taking that step, Regin. I'm glad I ran into you."
Regin's concern deepened at Subaru's response. But it confirmed for him that the Subaru before him was in a truly extraordinary state. With a resolved expression, Regin called out— "Natsuki-san."
"…?"
"I don't fully understand the situation, but please, come to the village. We can talk properly at my clinic. You need rest."
"You sound like a doctor."
"I treat earth dragons and livestock, but I am a doctor. Have you forgotten that too?"
"…I forgot. Yeah—I forgot."
"Natsuki-san?"
If "forgetting" were all there was to it, Natsuki Subaru wouldn't be experiencing this degree of alienation.
But the feeling gnawing at Subaru was far more brutal than mere forgetting.
"There's a village ahead—the one you mentioned? Have I been there before?"
"Yes, of course. Once, you came with my brother and one other person…"
"—I see. Thank you."
He had learned roughly what he needed to know.
Turning to Regin with a wry expression, Subaru continued.
"You know, you talk just like your brother."
"Eh?"
"You're a good person. So your brother must be too."
That was precisely why the prospect of "reuniting for the first time" terrified him.
Because there was no way he could ever look forward to it.
"—Shaula."
"Yes, what is it, Master?"
"Don't make it painful."
A brief, cryptic call.
But with just those words, Shaula seemed to grasp his intent immediately, nodding with a casual "Sure thing."
And then— "I'm sorry."
One word, Subaru apologized to Regin before him.
This apology carried far clearer meaning than his earlier vague one. But Regin would never understand its true significance.
—Because before understanding could reach him, Regin's head had already been swallowed by light and evaporated.
"———"
Without even a gasp, Regin's headless body collapsed onto the highway. The tremendous heat had cauterized the wound—blood didn't even trickle from the severed neck.
Calling it "clean" would be morally wrong, but the strike was so refined that one couldn't help but say it.
"No matter how many times I see it, it's magnificent."
"Four hundred years of sniping at magical beasts from the top of the tower—nothing to do but sharpen my technique. Looking back, those were gray days entirely unbecoming of a young lady."
"Four hundred years alive and still a young lady…?"
Without a shred of emotion at the carnage before him, Subaru tilted his head at Shaula's words. Then, dragging Regin's headless corpse, he approached the dragon carriage that had lost its master.
But upon noticing their approach, the earth dragon immediately bolted, attempting to abandon Subaru and Shaula on the road.
In the instant that followed, a streak of white light pierced through the space just beside Subaru, penetrating the cargo cart and then the earth dragon's body—incinerating its organs and piercing through its skull, taking its life.
A clean strike, but not one Subaru had wanted.
"…Hey."
"I-I didn't mean it! It was self-defense! I tried really hard to stop myself, I swear! It's just… the habits of a killing machine are hard to shake!"
"I'm not angry. I'm not angry—but now we've lost the dragon carriage too. When am I ever going to get a better mode of transport than walking…"
Bringing Shaula along meant having zero luck with earth dragons. As long as she was with him, Subaru was condemned to traveling on foot indefinitely.
"That's why I keep telling you—even outside of emergencies, I'll carry you on my back anytime, Master~ And if I happen to touch somewhere weird in the process, it's just a happy accident and I don't mind! Whaddya say?"
"Somehow, I feel like I'd get charged for that later…"
Brushing off Shaula's invitation with a curt remark, Subaru dragged Regin's body into the stopped dragon carriage. The earth dragon's massive corpse lay on the highway too, its head destroyed just like its master's—sharing the same fate. But at least Subaru couldn't move the earth dragon's body by himself.
"For now, drag the carriage and the dragon into the nearby forest. I'm going to check out the village Regin mentioned. —You know where I am, right?"
"Easy peasy! Just make sure nobody finds you?"
"Just a few days hidden will do. Two or three days is plenty."
Stepping out of the carriage, Subaru instructed Shaula to conceal the aftermath. She raised her hand in acknowledgment, grabbed the earth dragon's massive body, and hoisted the carcass onto her slender shoulders as though it weighed nothing—then started dragging the carriage along as well.
While she disappeared into the forest to hide the evidence, Subaru turned his gaze toward the village.
"All right."
With purpose now, not aimlessly, Subaru began to walk.
Straight toward the village where Regin had been heading.
How many people in that village knew "Natsuki Subaru"?
Too many, too few—either way, his heart was heavy. But avoiding something unpleasant didn't mean he could make the right choice.
It was a heartless decision, but there was no other way.
It would be fine.—As long as he could recover "Natsuki Subaru," everything would be fine.
"It's still reversible, right?"
That was why he had to be the one to make the choices "Natsuki Subaru" couldn't.
Patchwork, patchwork, shaping it into form.
Patchwork, patchwork, molding it into shape.
Patchwork, patchwork, bringing it to color.
Patchwork, patchwork, patching and piecing, drawing it closer to completion.
——— The instant consciousness returned to reality, Subaru dropped the book he'd been holding.
His knees shook, his breathing grew ragged. Even though he was sitting on the ground, a wave of crushing vertigo washed over him.
This was something that no matter how many times he experienced it, he could never get used to.
"Hah… hah…"
Wiping the cold sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, Subaru took deep breaths to steady his racing heart. The arrhythmic pounding might have been caused by the dissonance between his mind and body.
Each time he took on a new book, the concept of "self" inside him grew more and more blurred.
If he kept this up, might a sane person lose the boundary between self and other, melt into them, and lose any trace of identity?
"Master, are you okay?"
"…Yeah, fine, I'm fine. More importantly—did you find the next book?"
"Not yet~ It's like a matching game—finding them is so tedious. This kind of fiddly work just isn't my thing…"
Shaula, who had called out in concern, held her fingers together sheepishly at her slow progress. But Subaru had no intention of blaming her.
She was doing work she wasn't suited for, and she knew it. Blaming her further, when she was helping for nothing in return, would make him truly inhumane.
Even Subaru, who had been running headlong down the path of inhumanity, still had a line he shouldn't cross.
"I know you're not cut out for this, but I'm counting on you, Shaula. You're the only one who can lend me a hand."
"If only Master had me…"
"…Right now, you're the only one I can rely on."
"Hmph~ I'll accept that for now."
Shaula puffed up her nose with satisfaction, her pleased expression bright, and dove back into the sea of books. That good mood probably wouldn't last long, but her eyes were essential for the search.
In the simple sense of manpower alone, her presence or absence was a matter of life and death for Subaru.
"———"
Picking up the book he had dropped moments ago, Subaru traced the title on its spine with his finger.
The black book bore a simple title: "Regin Suewen."
Having encountered "Natsuki Subaru" in the past and then the current Natsuki Subaru, the young man had tragically lost his life—Subaru was re-experiencing that life through the book.
Within that re-experience, there was indeed a memory of encountering "Natsuki Subaru," but— "…We weren't really close. From Regin's perspective, 'Natsuki Subaru' was just some mysterious guy who tagged along with his brother."
Referencing the memories that had become part of himself, Subaru sighed with a sense of futility.
Honestly, the one most deserving of sympathy was probably the sacrificed Regin himself—but the hollow feeling of anticlimax was unavoidable.
"Well, there's no helping it for someone who's already dead. And if Natsuki-san's objective is fulfilled, everything will be restored to normal, won't it? Let's look forward to that."
"Wow, that's big of you. I hate to keep freeloading on your generosity, but I'm going to. When everything's restored, I'll repay this debt."
"I suppose I'll wait for that, expecting nothing."
Regin shrugged, waved his hand, and faded from Subaru's vision like a mist. Having watched him go, Subaru returned Regin's "Book of the Dead" to the shelf.
Then he picked up a slip of paper and drew a line through a name with a quill pen.—It was a list of many names, and Regin's name had just been crossed off.
"…Twenty-three left, then."
Counting through the numbers, Subaru cracked his neck—the road ahead was still long.
The library where the Books of the Dead were displayed—"Taigeta"—was no less inhospitable. Despite his frequent visits, it still refused to grant him any search functionality within the library.
He used it so often—would it really kill the place to offer a bit of service? But no, it remained infuriating.
"Betty's Forbidden Library was impressive too, but this place dwarfs it entirely, I suppose. There would be no complaints if you returned on another day, Subaru."
"Indeed. Finding a specific book in a library this vast is a monumental task. You'd need to settle in and approach it methodically—charging ahead blindly will only exhaust you."
The moment that doubt crossed his mind, Beatrice and Julius offered their advice while surveying the library. Their counsel was kind to Subaru—which was precisely why he stubbornly shook his head.
He knew what they said was reasonable, and choosing to take his time might ease the futility and mental strain—but— "Taking it easy is a luxury I can't afford. I don't have time to waste. I need to find the answer as quickly as possible…"
"And what happens if you don't? Will anything change if you rush, Barusu?"
"It'll change.—Everything will change."
Subaru clenched his fists and spoke with finality. Ram watched him with cold, pale-pink eyes. Turning his face away from her gaze, Subaru stared down at the list in his hands.
A list of Regin's name and the names of villagers from the same settlement. Based on Regin's memories, it was quite unlikely to yield anything decisive. Low probability—but not zero.
So— "If you read all those people's books, will you get what you want, Subaru?"
"Emilia-tan…"
At Emilia's worried question, Subaru hesitated for just a moment. But then, as though convincing himself as much as her, he nodded.
"Of course it will. I… because I forgot everything, I caused terrible trouble for everyone. The only way to make up for it is this."
"You don't need to worry about making up for anything—"
"—That's not enough!"
As though unable to watch Subaru push himself any further, Emilia's expression darkened—and Subaru couldn't help raising his voice.
Emilia stared at him in surprise. Looking straight into her eyes, Subaru continued.
"Please, don't say that. I will—no matter what it takes—I will reclaim 'Natsuki Subaru.' And then…"
"…And then?"
"And then, I'll meet you all again. …Meet you, and start over."
Realizing something was precious only after losing it—it was always too late.
Why couldn't people recognize the weight of what they carried until it was gone?
Only after everything slipped through their fingers, after it became irretrievable— "———"
Emilia gazed at Subaru's anguished words with a look that seemed almost ethereal. The emotions filling her amethyst eyes were complex, and even Subaru couldn't read them all.
It was maddening—he who should have been able to read her like an open book, unable to understand what she was truly thinking.
What did Emilia think? What did she feel? How did she perceive the Subaru before her now?
The answer to that— "Master! I found the next book! Praise me, praise me!"
"Ah—good job. Well done, Shaula."
"Hehehe~"
Shaula, leaping toward him, cut short Subaru's silent exchange with Emilia. Subaru patted her head, and she melted into a slack, blissful smile.
The book she held indeed bore a name that matched the list.
"…How many pieces of 'Natsuki Subaru' are sleeping inside you?"
Taking the book from Shaula, Subaru posed the question to the book that would never answer. Naturally, the book was not so courteous as to provide a concise reply.
But the answer was inside the book. Every atrocity, every necessary sacrifice—all of it led to this.
"Objective, fragmentary information. That's enough. I'll gather it all and piece together the completed form…"
Evaluation was determined by how others measured you.
If that was so, then by measuring yourself against everyone's yardstick—by being measured by every possible standard—one could reconstruct the person in question.
—Reclaiming "Natsuki Subaru."
That was Natsuki Subaru's highest priority, and everything was a step toward that goal.
The sacrifices already made, and the sacrifices yet to come—all of it was necessary for Natsuki Subaru to reclaim "Natsuki Subaru."
If "Natsuki Subaru" could be reclaimed—if only that self would return— "…You'd fix everything, wouldn't you?"
Emilia's, Beatrice's, Ram's, Meili's, Julius's, and the many others beyond them—the memories of all those people were wishing for the same thing.
That was why "Natsuki Subaru" had to have the power to do it.
And so, with that power— "—Save me."
Please, "Natsuki Subaru." If you're a hero—then save me.
Patchwork, patchwork, shaping it into form.
Patchwork, patchwork, molding it into shape.
Patchwork, patchwork, bringing it to color.
Patchwork, patchwork, patching and piecing, drawing it closer to completion.
———"Murder becomes a habit."
That was one of the famous lines left behind by the legendary detective, Hercule Poirot.
The meaning was not that a person who has killed awakens to a taste for murder and repeats the act to satisfy their own desires.
Rather, it meant that a person who has once solved a problem through murder will, when faced with the next problem, think to break the deadlock the same way—through murder.
———"Murder becomes a habit."
But if murder was truly connected to solving problems, could it really be called a habit?
Wasn't this less a case of murder becoming a habit and more a case of being driven to it by unavoidable circumstances?
When there were no other options besides murder, could you really call it a habit?
———"Murder as a habit."
And anyway—who was Hercule Poirot to talk? A fictional detective speaking with such authority.
How dare he say that with an air of seeing through everything. Every situation, every circumstance—these things were complex, tangled, deeply intertwined.
To dismiss all that and apply a single, uniform statement? Don't be ridiculous.
———"Murder."
This wasn't a habit. There was simply no other means.
The most rational, the most correct path forward—there was no other way. That was all.
So this was not a habit.
———"Only murder can be the answer."
Yes. That was it. That was the answer. That was the only correct solution.
The only measure that could break through this dead end of despair.
"Subaru always helps me and solves everything—he's my knight!"
"If Subaru wasn't there, Betty would still be alone in the Forbidden Library, I suppose."
"Barusu, well… he's a man with good timing. That much even Ram will admit."
"If big brother hadn't interfered, I wouldn't have messed up my job, that's for sure…"
"Subaru, you may not realize it, but you saved me too. Your very existence was a path of hope for me."
"I know."
I know that you all love "Natsuki Subaru."
I know that you all cherish "Natsuki Subaru."
I know that "Natsuki Subaru" who saved you all was a Superman.
And I know—with full awareness—that everything "Natsuki Subaru" did has been undone by me.
That's why I have to reclaim it.
If only I could reclaim "Natsuki Subaru."
If only I could do that, everything would work out. It would.
It had to.
Patchwork, patchwork, shaping it into form.
Patchwork, patchwork, molding it into shape.
Patchwork, patchwork, bringing it to color.
Patchwork, patchwork, patching and piecing, drawing it closer to completion.
——— "Natsuki Subaru went berserk and turned on his companions—Emilia, Julius, and the others. I barely escaped with my life, and now I'm here."
At Anastasia's report, the assembled faces all twisted in grim disbelief. Their expressions conveyed the same, simple message: "I understand that you find it hard to believe. I find it equally painful to have brought back such a report. But given the danger he poses, we cannot afford the luxury of denying reality."
"Anastasia-sama, even so…"
"I am
"…This is not a story one can readily accept."
Anastasia—or rather, Echidna—sat across from the red-haired knight,
The location was the Watergate City of Pristella. Those gathered were those involved in the Royal Selection, who had been awaiting the report of the party that had headed east after the city's battle had concluded.
The devastation wrought by the Archbishops of Sin from the
There had been anxiety. But they had been confident of good tidings upon return.
Among the party that went east, there was someone who warranted that confidence—that someone was none other than Natsuki Subaru. And now he had gone berserk.
"I cannot simply nod along and accept this."
"Whether you believe it or not, it's the truth. He is not the person you know. Natsuki Subaru lost his memories and has become obsessed with recovering them. To that end, he has chosen the worst possible method."
"The worst possible method…"
"The 'Books of the Dead' found in the
Even after hearing the explanation of these books with their strange power, Reinhard remained unconvinced.
The threat of memory loss had already been demonstrated—it was one of the harms Subaru and the others had sought to remedy.
But who could have predicted that the journey to address it would lead to this?
"I don't think Natsuki-san could have done this alone. If the goal was to read the Books of the Dead, how would he have carried it out?"
"Otto—do you believe her?"
Reinhard's sharp question was directed at Otto, who had turned with wide eyes. The "Sword Saint" looked at him with those blue eyes, and Otto nodded.
"Anastasia-sama—or rather, Echidna-san—she has no reason to lie to us like this. It's too outlandish. It's meaningless. The fact that she returned alone means something unforeseen has happened. That's all there is to it."
"That may be—but—"
"I don't want to believe it either. Of course I don't."
Otto clenched his fists, his voice trembling as he pressed the point. That trembling voice revealed just how much emotion he was forcing down.
Beside him, Garfiel murmured, "Otto-ni…"
"…Otto-kun's assessment is correct. Even if Subaru lost his memories and his behavioral patterns changed, Emilia and Julius would have been able to restrain him as things stood. The reason that didn't happen was his accomplice—Shaula."
"Shaula…? Isn't that the name of the 'Sage' who's supposed to be in the Watchtower? She's the big boss now… No, my head's spinning. This is what you call 'Osmund's hesitation'…"
"Unfortunately, I don't have the luxury of waiting for your confusion to clear. As I said, Shaula was the Observer stationed in the Watchtower. In her own words, the 'Sage' was her master's lineage—but she herself was not the Sage."
"There are a lot of things I'd like to ask about, but…this Shaula is cooperating with Subaru?"
When Reinhard pressed for confirmation, Echidna nodded.
The affirmation sent a murmur through the room.
The hero who had saved the Watergate City from the Archbishops of Sin—now unexpectedly turning, and at his side one of the Three Heroes of legend, the "Sage," who had been sung of throughout history.
In a world where nightmares begat nightmares, who could help but lament?
"…I didn't bring this information back because I wanted vengeance."
Suddenly, in the center of the chaos swirling around her report, Echidna murmured softly, looking downward.
"…Echidna?" Reinhard raised a brow.
Gathering the gazes of several people, Echidna took a short breath.
"Given Anastasia's feelings and the time I myself spent with Julius, it would be justifiable to feel increasing anger toward Natsuki Subaru for what he did. …But I'm tired."
"Tired?"
"Tired of hating, of being hated, of the desperate futility of children swinging their fists at each other."
She shook her head weakly and slowly rose to her feet.
She wore Anastasia's face and voice, but with an expression that Anastasia herself would never have shown—fragile, defeated.
"I'm stepping off this stage. To put Anastasia back onto it… the cruelty of that is unbearable. We made an irrevocable mistake."
"That's not—"
"I know you mean no harm. But when giving up is the wisest course and you're being convinced not to—that's nothing but agony. This is as far as I go."
No one had words to stop this broken woman. Echidna, too, knew that no one would.
Knowing that, she turned her back on her audience and departed.—True to her words, she was leaving the stage of the Royal Selection.
"I wish you all well. —Please, take care."
That was the final report from the only member of the party that had set out for the Pleiades Watchtower to return safely—and it was the source of all the heavy anxiety now pervading the room.
Patchwork, patchwork, shaping it into form.
Patchwork, patchwork, molding it into shape.
Patchwork, patchwork, bringing it to color.
Patchwork, patchwork, patching and piecing, drawing it closer to completion.
——— "…What are you planning to do now?"
Walking the return path with her, Ricardo asked. Echidna closed her eyes.
The loss of an arm was a severe wound, and the missing limb bore none of the thick, powerful arm that had once been there. In its place was something like a hooked claw—proof that his will to fight had not been abandoned, which was very Ricardo. But— "I said it. I'm giving up. That's the prudent choice. I don't want to continue impersonating Anastasia in this body any longer. …At the very least, I'll fulfill my minimum responsibility toward the Hoshin Trading Company."
"Minimum responsibility means…"
"Disposing of the company, finding new employment for the staff. The company itself should be fine if I leave it to Vice President Chuden."
"———"
"I understand your frustration. But there's nothing to be done."
Though she had never revealed her true identity, Echidna and Ricardo's relationship had been long. One-sided though it was, Ricardo's fierce loyalty to Anastasia was something she understood.
Because it was the same quality as what Echidna herself felt toward Anastasia.
If Ricardo had felt a fatherly devotion toward Anastasia, then Echidna too had perhaps felt a motherly devotion toward Anastasia.
So— "I intend to let go of the
"If I can do as I please, then I'm going to find a way to wake the young miss up."
"…If the most promising option has been cut off and you still persist in pursuing it, there's nothing I can say. Especially if the Iron Fang's people follow you."
She couldn't dismiss Ricardo's attitude as mere stubbornness. He, too, was serious about protecting what he refused to give up and what he wanted to safeguard. It would be unconscionably cruel to call it pointless before he had even begun.
Because Echidna had given up didn't mean Ricardo had to.
"…Whether that determination of yours will please Anastasia, even I don't know."
"…If I get scolded for it, so be it. I'm not the kind of man who can give up before even trying. I'm Ana-chan's surrogate father, after all."
"———"
"A father who abandons his daughter—does such a man have the right to call himself a father? No matter what anyone says, I won't give up."
Ricardo's declaration was never meant as a barb toward Echidna. But it pierced her anyway—because Echidna was acutely aware of her own weakness.
And so, with a dry smile, Echidna praised Ricardo's strength.
Then— "—Ricardo, you really are—"
She was about to say: so strong.
Or perhaps, given enough time, she might have asked whether she too could someday find that same strength.
—But there was no time.
"———"
A rumbling sensation traveled through the ground beneath her feet. In that instant, Echidna saw Ricardo's arm extend toward her. His thick, clawed arm hooked around her nape, lifting her feet into the air.
She realized he had grabbed her—and that was all.
In the next moment, an explosive torrent of water engulfed Echidna, Ricardo, and the entire city—sweeping everything, absolutely everything, away.
—The flood that the Witch Cult had failed to unleash had now, at last, struck the Watergate City that had narrowly escaped it before.
Patchwork, patchwork, shaping it into form.
Patchwork, patchwork, molding it into shape.
Patchwork, patchwork, bringing it to color.
Patchwork, patchwork, patching and piecing, drawing it closer to completion.
——— Looking down at the city being swallowed by the flood, Subaru let out a short breath.
The bowl-shaped design of the city was, it had to be said, brilliant—once the water flowed in, there was no escape, producing an overwhelming effect like flooding an ant hill.
"Impressive—a city designed for the decisive battle against magical beasts… The trap works perfectly."
True to its origins as a city built to defeat magical beasts and witches, the effect of opening the great water gate was devastating.
The violence of the water dragged the city to the bottom in an instant, swallowing the residents before they could flee.
"Ho ho, splendid, isn't it? With this, most of the people who knew you have been dealt with in one fell swoop. …You can call that a head start on your self-search, right?"
"…Shut up."
Behind Subaru, who was surveying the destruction, the tall figure in jester's garb let out an insensitive remark.
His expression was not quite jubilant, but he clearly felt a sense of accomplishment at the result before him. Given that the plan had been executed with his knowledge and counsel, his thoughts were understandable.
"Master really does have terrible taste…"
The girl in a maid's outfit regarded her jester-like master with contempt. Cute and sharp-looking, she nestled close to Subaru and gently took his hand.
Subaru squeezed her hand back and nodded.
"Petra, how does it look?"
"Well… Shaula seems to have done it properly. All four control towers are operational, so nobody escaped. The shelters, too, probably…"
"…I see. Sorry to make you give a hard report."
Even when asked for an objective assessment, Petra managed a brave little smile.
The Subaru knew her as someone with a strong core but no particular extraordinariness—just a normal girl. He didn't feel no guilt about involving her, but— "If you're going to feel that guilty, you shouldn't have started this in the first place. Subaru-sama is such a half-hearted person."
"…When you put it that way, I've got no comeback."
The golden-haired maid, Frederica, glared at him, her anger far from spent.
She valued the tragedies that had befallen the people around her more than her own. In that sense, she would never forgive Subaru's actions.
This wasn't something logic could address—it was a matter of emotion. And despite appearing rational, Frederica was surprisingly honest with her own feelings, much like her brother.
"That said, even Garfiel only knows through the grapevine…"
Muttering with a sigh, Subaru slid his fingers through his hair and scratched roughly at his head, letting out a sharp breath.
Shifting his focus, preparing for battle.
"So? What's the next move, Subaru-kun?"
Roswaal leaned in from beside him, poking his face close. Subaru clicked his tongue, then declared with a scowl— "Exactly as planned. —First, we take out the most troublesome one."
Patchwork, patchwork, shaping it into form.
Patchwork, patchwork, molding it into shape.
Patchwork, patchwork, bringing it to color.
Patchwork, patchwork, patching and piecing, drawing it closer to completion.
——— "Cough, hack—!"
"Otto-ni, are you okay!? Spit it out! Spit out all the water!"
Desperate to expel the water that had invaded his lungs, Otto coughed violently, tears streaming down his face. Garfiel helped by attempting to drain the water, but being hoisted upside down by the legs was tough on body and mind.
Thanks to that, Otto succeeded in expelling the water—but at considerable cost.
"Damn it! What the hell just happened…!?"
"…The city's great water gate was opened. That's how the water flooded in. We fought like hell against the Witch Cult and held them off, and now it's all been washed away…"
Garfiel surveyed the flooded cityscape, his fangs trembling with rage. Hearing his anguished words, Otto could see the younger man's emerald eyes contorting with grief, and Otto looked away.
One glance revealed the devastating state of the city in every direction. Fortunately, Garfiel had carried Otto to safety on high ground just out of the water's reach—but how many others had managed the same?
"Everything… underwater…"
Garfiel stared wide-eyed, shattered by the flood that had engulfed the city.
Otto hadn't heard the full story, but he'd sensed that Garfiel had experienced something significant in Pristella. That it had been someone precious to him, someone important.
And now this flood had washed even those bonds away, mercilessly.
"No—it's more than that."
Otto was worried about Garfiel's mental state, but his real concern was the others.
Anastasia—or Echidna—had returned with an unexpected report, and the Royal Selection candidates and knights who had gathered to hear it had all been caught in this devastation.
The act of gathering everyone who needed to be warned had, in effect, delivered them all to disaster.
"Harsh as it sounds, Garfiel—get up. We have to deal with this situation. Just like we did against the Witch Cult last time."
"O-Otto-ni… but…"
"If we stand here stunned, what happens? Natsuki-san is gone! Emilia-sama is gone! Get up, Garfiel! We're all that's left!"
"———"
Otto grabbed the younger man's collar and roared at him. He knew it was cruel, but he swallowed that knowledge in the moment.
To scorch the drooping spirit, ignite it, force it to stand— He would accept being called heartless if that's what it took. —Even if Garfiel hated him later, it was better than failing to fulfill his role.
"Let's search for survivors and rendezvous with the Royal Selection candidates and knights. If this was an attack by someone hostile to the city, we need to stand together—"
"Otto-ni! Look out—!"
"!?"
As Otto was steeling himself to face Garfiel, the young man's fist struck his chest— Then, in the next instant, a beam of white light faster than the eye could follow tore through the rooftop where Otto had been sitting.
"Guh—!"
The light grazed his chest for the briefest instant, and Otto felt his entire body sear with pain. No blood flowed. But his tunic was charred, and the skin beneath had carbonized.
That was the terrible heat of the white light.
And that white light— "Oh, oh, oh, oh—!!"
A barrage of white light hurtling toward them at supersonic speed—Garfiel howled and roared, smashing it away with brute force.
Armoring his fist with a silver shield, Garfiel charged headlong into the overwhelming volume of light. An interdimensional battle erupted—far beyond what Otto's eyes could follow.
Still, he could barely imagine what was happening.
"From where…"
Clenching his teeth against the pain, Otto scanned the surroundings, searching for the source of the white light.
The attack targeting Otto and Garfiel—that was clearly the work of whoever had opened the great water gate. The enemy was, of course, the Witch Cult—and— "—! From that distance!?"
At the far edge of his vision, one of the control towers at the great water gate—almost at the opposite end of the city from where they stood—flared with light.
The instant he saw the flash, the beam shot straight toward them. Garfiel was blocking it for now, but— "If this keeps up, we're done for! Otto-ni, find cover! I'm going to smash that bastard!"
"Garfiel! Can you close the distance safely!?"
Garfiel was shouting, but his position was anything but favorable.
The speed of the incoming light was extraordinary—it was only the distance between them that allowed Garfiel's defense to keep pace. If the distance shrank, the time available to react would decrease. Even if the difference was the blink of an eye, in a battle of this magnitude, it was fatal.
"Even so—we have no choice! We're the only ones here! Right?!"
"…That's right. Garfiel!"
"You bet!!"
With a final roar, Garfiel launched himself forward. Using the buildings that still stood above the water as footholds, he charged boldly toward the control tower from which the white light was being fired.
"Oh, oh, oh, oh—!!"
With each hit, a shock that seemed to rattle him to the marrow, Garfiel endured, his battered body refusing to yield, clinging to victory in a terrain that barely gave him footing.
It was a ferocious battle.
Not only was the accuracy of attacks fired from such an incredible distance terrifying—the sheer volume of mana being unleashed without pause was beyond reason.
Having surrendered the distance advantage from the very start, Garfiel was at a catastrophic disadvantage.
"But even so…"
He wasn't kind enough to concede that the opponent was simply better.
More than that, what the opponent had done was far, far more unforgivable.
The Watergate City of Pristella had been submerged—countless people had likely perished.
Just when the scars of the Witch Cult's last attack hadn't even healed, a relentless tragedy had engulfed the city. —Among those affected were members of Garfiel's own blood.
"—!"
Garfiel ground his back teeth and shook his head violently, refusing to think about it.
But refusing to think about it was, in the end, no different from thinking about it. In the depths of his chest, grief and fury swirled together—Garfiel's heart was swallowed by a dark, festering rage.
If he could channel that black fury into his claws and fangs and hurl it at this enemy— "—Garfiel."
A voice reached him through the madness consuming his mind.
If it had been merely his name, Garfiel might have ignored it entirely.
But— "…Captain?"
If that voice belonged to the person he had been waiting for—waiting to return—then that changed everything.
His emerald eyes darting about amid the ultra-high-speed exchange of blows, Garfiel searched for the source.
He hadn't believed Echidna's information from the start.
He was not someone who trusted a person named "Echidna." Of course, he had grudgingly accepted the argument about her danger to Subaru and reluctantly agreed to head to the Pleiades Watchtower.
But when Echidna, wearing Anastasia's face, had actually returned, Garfiel had regretted how shallow and naive his judgment had been.
He had wanted to go after Subaru and Emilia immediately.
The great flood had struck the city just as he had brought that proposal to Otto. Otto had his own reasoning, but Garfiel had ground his teeth and refused to accept the idea.
Garfiel could not believe that Subaru would fail.
And so, hearing Natsuki Subaru's voice in this situation—Garfiel seized upon a desperate hope. That this person could change everything.
Clutching at that convenient fantasy, searching for the figure— "You know, at the critical moment, you just can't cut it. —Family really does see through you, huh?"
The instant the voice's owner came into view, Garfiel's brow furrowed with confusion.
It wasn't because he'd heard the words—he hadn't heard them. Pure astonishment at what he saw had changed his expression.
"———"
Below, a figure was looking up at Garfiel, who flew toward the white light.
The silhouette looked familiar—but— "Who the hell are you?"
If he focused his nose, a familiar scent reached his nostrils.
But it was not his senses but his instinct that tried to deny this was someone he knew.
A split-second of blankness in his thoughts.
But a fatal blank.
And then— "—Hey, boom!"
"What—"
A black-haired woman hurtled straight at him, delivering a kick with a cheerful shout. Garfiel caught it on his shield, absorbing the force of a dragon carriage's charge with both arms.
But with his attention split between two directions, he was in no condition to face this opponent.
"Not bad, but my love for my Master is at least a hundred times stronger."
The grinning woman's palm opened toward Garfiel's face. An instant later, every hair on his body stood on end—Garfiel threw his head back— "Pop."
The impact pierced through Garfiel's abdomen and burst out of his back, scattering his innards.
Patchwork, patchwork, shaping it into form.
Patchwork, patchwork, molding it into shape.
Patchwork, patchwork, bringing it to color.
Patchwork, patchwork, patching and piecing, drawing it closer to completion.
——— Watching a bloom of blood blossom in midair, Otto forced his mind to work.
"…!"
Gritting his teeth, Otto hurled invective at the cold, calculating part of himself.
That in this situation, part of him was calmly trying to assess the situation—that part of himself was truly hateful. His younger brother had just been blown apart, and still he couldn't fully give in to emotion.
Even as he sought some foothold in this overwhelming disadvantage, Otto's mind was already scanning the surroundings.
If he applied his "Divine Protection of Word Spirits" in a creative way, there might yet be a sliver of hope, no matter the circumstances. That belief had carried him through every crisis until now.
So— "It's no use. The city's flooded so thoroughly even rats would drown. There's nobody left here to help you."
"———"
A voice, accompanied by footsteps, reached Otto's ears through the silence.
The world seemed terrifyingly still—the sound of footsteps approached slowly. Otto turned toward them and held his breath.
Then, exhaling in a short burst— "…You've really changed, Natsuki-san."
"Have I? I'm not sure myself…"
"If you looked in a mirror, it would be obvious. Oh right—according to Echidna's account, you lost your memories. So you really don't know?"
"Ha—maybe. I wish the differences were a little more obvious. Then it'd be easier to give up…"
Scratching his cheek, Subaru laughed at Otto's provocation.
Or rather—at what to call this person—Otto's mind was caught between composure and fury. The hesitation to use the proper name, the hesitation that there was no other name, and finally, the urge to scream.
"You are…"
"You already know. My name is Natsuki Subaru. The eternally undefeated penniless wonder."
"———"
"I've heard a lot about you too. I've been wanting to meet you for a long time. Otto."
With those words, the person wearing Natsuki Subaru's face—and yet fundamentally different from the Subaru Otto knew—smiled.
His clouded, lightless left eye; his hair turned pure white, for reasons unknown; a smile as though something inside him had come undone. Natsuki Subaru smirked.
Patchwork, patchwork, shaping it into form.
Patchwork, patchwork, molding it into shape.
Patchwork, patchwork, bringing it to color.
Patchwork, patchwork, patching and piecing, drawing it closer to completion.
——— Facing the guarded Otto, Subaru let out a long breath.
"You've really changed"—now that was the kind of hurtful thing people were good at saying. Of course, being told he hadn't changed would sting just as much in its own way—but being told flat-out "You're a different person" really got under his skin.
Nobody had been that direct—not the people in the tower, nor the ones he'd encountered since.
"Honestly, I've been having a hard time."
"…With what, exactly?"
"Haven't you heard the details from Echidna? I lost my memories, went crazy, and went on a rampage… something like that?"
"I've heard the basics. That you're fixated on recovering your lost memories."
"I don't remember telling anyone that much… But yeah, that's a fair deduction. As expected—you're all competent. The only useless, hopeless person here is me."
He gently brushed his left eye with his hand and muttered self-deprecatingly. Watching this, Otto swallowed and asked— "That eye—can I ask what happened to it?"
"My eye? Oh, the left one. It's a little hazy, but nothing serious. I hit my head too hard at the start, I think. The hair too—nothing special, it just turned white on its own. Funny, right?"
"Ha ha ha, hilarious. Satisfied now?"
"Not even close. I've got a long way to go before I'm satisfied. A long, long way."
Otto returned a thin, brittle smile, and Subaru answered with one of his own.
Originally, Subaru and Otto had apparently been good friends—and now, seeing it through the eyes of Emilia, Beatrice, and everyone else in camp, he understood.
"Subaru and Otto-kun were always having so much fun together—it was really adorable."
"Well, mostly Subaru dragging Otto around, I suppose. That hasn't really changed."
Emilia and Beatrice, flanking Otto on either side, explained in turns. Nodding along, Subaru licked his lips and said, "Well then—"
"I'd been looking forward to this 'first reunion' with you. But the more time I give you, the more dangerous you get—so I'm sorry, but this has to be quick."
"'First reunion' is quite a unique way to put it—but given your objectives, wasn't this a mistake on your part?"
"Hm?"
Subaru tilted his head, frowning.
"You see," Otto continued, "it was actually an effective move. You waited for all the relevant parties to gather, then unleashed a suppression attack with no escape—it was impressive. When your weapon is a disaster, neither sword masters nor mercenary companies can fight back."
"———"
"By that logic, was letting Echidna escape the Watchtower part of the plan too? You let her go so she'd report, bringing everyone who knew you together in one place—and the most likely gathering point would be Pristella, the epicenter. Here, where the water gate is."
"…I'm flattered by your praise."
Subaru accepted the compliments outwardly while internally rolling his eyes. The one deserving praise was Otto.
Including the fact that Echidna had been allowed to escape, Otto had deduced the truth with near-perfect accuracy.
Though— "The truth is, Echidna getting away was an accident. I only realized I could use her after she'd escaped, so I didn't chase her."
"I see. If you'd seen through it that far, I'd be truly alarmed. Losing your memories and becoming more capable—what a troublesome combination. However—"
Otto's eyes locked straight onto Subaru. The intensity of the gaze hit Subaru like a physical force.
Facing that scrutiny, Otto pressed on.
"At the very last moment, you fumbled the finish."
"I fumbled? Me? What do you mean?"
"…Another of those cryptic statements of yours, but there's no riddle here. You had a once-in-a-lifetime chance to strike with everything you had. If you were serious, you should have followed through from the start."
"Followed through…"
"You shouldn't have been greedy. You should have aimed straight for Reinhard."
Otto pointed and said it with absolute clarity. Subaru's eyes went wide—and Otto drove the point home.
"The 'Books of the Dead' that let you read others' memories—right? If you're using those to reclaim yourself, your greatest enemy is Reinhard. And if you're targeting him, the only chance was the first strike. After that, he'd be on guard. You'd never get through again."
"So you're saying I should never have let go of that first opening?"
"Yes, exactly. Therefore…"
"Hmph."
"—?"
At the strange sound from Subaru's throat, Otto raised his brow. It was a sound of surprise, confusion, bewilderment—none of it an act. It had escaped naturally, involuntarily.
For the person who had read everything this far to fumble at the end— "You're the one who's confused, Otto. Not me."
"That's—"
"I wasn't targeting Reinhard. Of course, if he'd died in the flood, that would've saved me some trouble—but I'm not the kind of person to rely on luck."
He had seen Reinhard's extraordinary power through the memories of everyone around him. The "Sword Saint" of legend—killing him was a monumental undertaking. It would require layering plans upon plans upon plans.
A lucky punch wasn't a death worthy of a hero.
"So, if I wanted to kill him, I'd look for a way. Weaken him, ambush him, set a trap, take a hostage—whatever it takes. …But he's not my priority."
"Then the flood was simply to eliminate everyone who knew you at once? It's true, after the recent incident, the number of people who recognized you in this city had grown dramatically—"
As Otto was about to continue, Subaru held up his palm.
He knew what Otto was trying to say. The Witch Cult's atrocity in Pristella—he had examined it from every angle through the Books of the Dead.
Using the city for that purpose had indeed been one of his goals—but compared to the main reason, it was trivial.
Subaru's reason for producing the flood in the Watergate City was singular.
His greatest goal was— "—Otto. It's you."
"…What?"
"This whole thing was orchestrated to kill you with certainty. The other deaths are… well, a bonus."
"———"
The purpose thrust before him—unable to comprehend it, Otto went rigid.
Closing his left eye, Subaru gazed at the world through his haze-veiled right and slowly turned his head, surveying the rooftop.
"…Why me?"
"Why go to all this trouble just for you? It's because you're the one I need to be most cautious of. With Garfiel at your side—I layered safety upon safety to make this work."
"———"
"And let me be clear—this wasn't my idea alone. I don't trust my own thinking. Using this useless brain and the little wits I have—I know the limits."
Yes, Subaru's cunning was limited.
He didn't understand the rules of this world. He didn't know its loopholes. He didn't grasp its laws. The ideas he could come up with were pathetically few.
So— "I consulted properly."
"———"
Otto fell silent. Surrounding him—visible only to Subaru's left eye—were the reliable companions Subaru had built.
Emilia, Beatrice, Ram, Roswaal, Petra, Frederica—the allies of Emilia's camp, united as one, encircled Otto.
Looking at each of their faces, Subaru shrugged and said— "Who's the most troublesome person among everyone who knows me?"
"Otto-kun."
Emilia answered.
"Who's the most troublesome person I know?"
"Otto, I suppose."
Beatrice answered.
"Who's the most troublesome person I know?"
"Otto, most likely. Annoying as it is."
Ram answered.
"Who's the most troublesome person I know?"
"Otto-kun, I suppose."
Roswaal answered.
"Who's the most troublesome person I know?"
"Otto-san."
Petra answered.
"Who's the most troublesome person I know?"
"Otto-sama."
Frederica answered.
"—Unanimous. And if Garfiel were here, he'd probably say the same thing."
"Who exactly have you been talking to…"
"Don't bother trying to stall. I told you—the flood was to kill you. —Not a rat in sight means you can't find a way out, even you."
That was why Subaru had opened the great water gate and drowned the city.
Water dragons, rats, insects—none of it could approach Otto Suewen. By severing his connection to solid ground, Subaru denied him his beloved magic.
Using every scrap of knowledge from his companions, Subaru had pulled this off.
All of it— "—I don't underestimate you. I don't underestimate anyone. You're incredible, all of you. That's why I won't hold back when I kill you."
"You are—"
"—Master."
The voice cut off whatever Otto was about to say. Shaula touched down lightly on the rooftop, half her body drenched in blood.
Brushing her bloodied chest with her hand, she said, "Finally done with that one. Wow, what a stubborn bastard. When his insides got blown out like that, I thought he was immortal or something!"
"No wonder it took so long. …You finished properly?"
"Crushed the head, so he should be dead. Humans die when their heads are crushed, right? Except for Master?"
"I don't get why you excluded me. My head would kill me too if it got crushed."
"Hehehe~"
Shaula laughed, nudging him with her shoulder, clearly disbelieving. That worldview was even harder for Subaru to understand, but correcting Shaula's values was a fool's errand.
Besides, she had fulfilled her assigned role. That was enough for now.
"Good work, Shaula. Now it's time for—"
"The real target? But was he really worth all this? I can't imagine…"
"If we're talking raw strength, I'd be crushed by you with one hand."
Otto's true power lay in areas that Shaula's measuring stick couldn't reach. That was the conclusion Subaru had drawn from synthesizing everything he'd heard from Emilia and the others.
Hearing Subaru's assessment, Shaula nodded with a "Huh, true enough."
Meanwhile, Otto watched the exchange between Subaru and Shaula with undisguised loathing.
"To think the greatest compliment of my life would backfire—what a terrible feeling."
"The greatest compliment? You've got to be kidding."
Not sarcasm—Subaru said it from the heart.
The truth, seen through the eyes of someone who had read the books of everyone in Emilia's camp.
"You always had the highest rating from everyone in the camp, Otto!"
"—Drop dead, you fake."
Baring his teeth in a grin, Otto bared his teeth and grinned back with savage ferocity.
That one line pierced Subaru's heart—but— "———"
—in the next instant, white light tore through Otto's entire body, and the conversation was forcibly ended.
Patchwork, patchwork, shaping it into form.
Patchwork, patchwork, molding it into shape.
Patchwork, patchwork, bringing it to color.
Patchwork, patchwork, patching and piecing, drawing it closer to completion.
——— "—Enough."
The moment that word reached him, Natsuki Subaru slowly opened his closed eyelids.
Before him, on the ground, lay the torso of Otto—his upper body gone. A short distance away on the water's surface floated Garfiel, defeated and dead.
In the midst of all this, Subaru had been engaged in something that struck him as horribly sanctimonious—a silent prayer.
Subaru had no grudge against Otto or Garfiel.
Against anyone whose life he had taken this far, there was not a single reason for him to bear a grudge.—Well, he did think that the original Subaru had probably held some grudges against Roswaal, who had caused a great deal of trouble, but the current Subaru couldn't access those honest feelings.
Setting aside that nuance, Subaru harbored no resentment toward anyone.
The one who should always be hated was himself. The one who should be hated was not "Natsuki Subaru"—but himself, the imposter.
Himself, the false one, needed by no one.
Himself, the ridiculous Natsuki Subaru, trying to piece together fragments of "Natsuki Subaru" through patchwork and somehow construct a semblance of the original.
So— "All I have for you is an apology."
"…Subaru."
Turning around, Subaru faced Reinhard, who stood at the rooftop's edge.
He had seen this figure in the memories of so many people—but the immaculate composure of his stance was unmarbled. In truth, Reinhard's clothes weren't even damp. How he'd managed that was beyond comprehension.
"As expected—you're beyond the norm."
"Subaru—is this your doing? …Otto, and Garfiel."
"If by 'made it happen,' you mean yes—not just them. The flood killed countless people in the city. …That was my doing."
"Why…why would you do this!? You came to save these people…"
"To the Watchtower, right? I know. I know all about it. The actual experience feels distant, but I have the vague knowledge—like reading a manga synopsis."
Through Reinhard's interrogation, Subaru spread his arms and gestured to the city.
The city had been devastated by the flood—but even before that, it had suffered terribly. The scars carved by the Witch Cult's rampage were less deep than they were twisted.
Stealing people's memories, transforming them into something inhuman, forcing the unwilling into submission with overwhelming power, and forcibly imposing twisted ideology—enforcing empathy by coercion.
In terms of violating human dignity, it was the worst kind of enemy.
But at the same time, Subaru had been struck by another thought.
"Their plans were full of holes. They charged in with half-baked schemes because they never believed they could lose."
These Archbishops of Sin, who seemingly possessed supernatural abilities—every one of them was coasting on their power.
Didn't anyone ever teach them? No matter how powerful you were, any human could be defeated with the wrong application.
Whether it was wisdom, numbers, greater talent, or anything else—defeat was inevitable.
"I don't enter a fight with half-hearted resolve. I find the method that can win, and I strike only when the timing is right. For that, I consult."
"Consult…? Was it that girl beside you who deceived you?"
"Huh? Me?" Shaula, suddenly called out, blinked in surprise. She pointed at herself and stared at Reinhard.
"Me deceiving Master? If I could pull off a move that villainous, I would have done it ages ago! Master completely ignores my seduction attempts… I go all in—'sexy, sexy'—and nothing!"
"She's not the one who was deceived. She doesn't have that kind of mind. Nobody deceived me… Well, if anything, it was an inner voice."
"An inner… voice?"
"The dormant lion within me, demanding liberation."
Reinhard listened seriously for a moment before realizing it was nonsense. Watching the Sword Saint's eyes fill with disappointment, Shaula nudged Subaru's side with her elbow.
"Hey, Master, there's a Raid-like vibe coming off him like crazy. Isn't that bad?"
"You noticed? It's insanely bad. He's Raid's descendant."
"Wh—what?"
"Great-great-great-grandchild, roughly."
"Whaaat?! So he's actually related to Raid?! I should've known!"
Shaula's face twisted as though she'd fallen into Zhuge Liang's trap, protesting her disadvantage. After all, they vividly remembered being pummeled by Raid.
Naturally, facing a blood relative like Reinhard head-on would end the same way.
"—I'm sorry, but I'm going to stop your rampage here. This is the proof of my friendship toward you."
"We were going to crash a wedding together, and this is how you thank me? Cold words, coming from you—though I guess I'm the one who told you to say it, so… Emilia-tan was pretty happy about that…"
"Subaru, please stop.—Please, stop."
"———"
Reinhard's plea—its anguished tone—silenced Subaru.
The pain in Reinhard's expression was like a blade to Subaru's chest.
He held no grudge against Reinhard, just as he held none against Otto or Garfiel.
He knew Reinhard had done nothing wrong—that he was a benefactor and a good friend with nothing to answer for.
And yet— "—To reclaim 'Natsuki Subaru,' I need the piece inside you. Sooner or later, I'm coming to kill you."
"———"
"But not today. Not tomorrow. The day after tomorrow's tomorrow."
Reinhard's eyes clouded with faint confusion at the declaration.
Right here, Reinhard wanted to settle things. In truth, a single step would close the distance—instantly dispatching Subaru. Even with Shaula standing guard, the outcome wouldn't change.
And yet Subaru could speak so freely because— "That situation Felts likely to flee to would be that building on the edge of the city," Roswaal had suggested.
—And toward the direction the bald giant had pointed, Shaula had unleashed her white light.
"———"
In that instant, Reinhard's breath caught. He moved at literally the speed of light—pursuing the streak aimed not at Subaru but at the building far across the flooded city where Felts, the Sword Saint's master, had taken shelter.
He hadn't moved to strike Subaru down. He had retreated to intercept the white light hurtling toward Felts.
"If you keep precious things close to you, you inevitably expose your weakness. Even the 'Sword Saint' Reinhard is no exception."
The suggestion had come from Roswaal, who now wore a smug grin, relishing the satisfaction of outmaneuvering the Sword Saint. Ignoring him, Subaru took a short breath and said— "Shaula, we're pulling out.—That's enough for today."
"Roger!"
Shaula cheerfully raised her hand and wrapped her arm around Subaru's waist. In one fluid motion, she lifted him with her inhuman strength and bent her knees to leap beyond the city.
Just before the jump— Subaru glanced toward Reinhard.
"—You're not as superhuman as you think, and you're not omnipotent."
Therefore— "—I will definitely kill you too, Reinhard."
Patchwork, patchwork, shaping it into form.
Patchwork, patchwork, molding it into shape.
Patchwork, patchwork, bringing it to color.
Patchwork, patchwork, patching and piecing, drawing it closer to completion.
——— "—Let me ask again. What's your name?"
"A-Amyu. Amyu Sayers…"
"Amyu—a lovely name. …It must have been terrible, what happened to you."
"Hngh…"
The red-haired knight knelt to meet her eyes and spoke gently. The moment those words reached her, the dam that had held the girl's emotions finally burst.
Amyu dissolved into tears, her body trembling with the belated horror rushing back to life.
Watching the weeping girl, the knight—Reinhard—surveyed the surroundings, his heart aching at the devastation, his lips pressed tight.
"———"
The incident had occurred two days ago, in a small village in the northern part of the
Distant from both the royal capital and the five great cities, the remote location meant the discovery came late—and Reinhard and the knights dispatched to investigate arrived several days behind schedule.
In that time, Amyu, the village's sole survivor, had been left alone, huddled in her own grief. —All of this, surrounded by the corpses of family and neighbors.
"Subaru…"
Reinhard's hand rested on the hilt of the Dragon Sword at his waist, his voice heavy with thought.
Given the nature of the crime, it was entirely possible that the Witch Cult was responsible. But Reinhard's instinct had already identified the perpetrators of this atrocity.
"The perpetrators were a man and a woman—is that correct? A young pair?"
"Y-yes… that's right. But…"
"But?"
Amyu choked on her words, tears still spilling. Pursing his well-shaped brows, Reinhard waited.
"I'm not sure about the woman, but the man seemed to be… talking to someone else…"
"———"
Amyu's account was vague—hesitant. But through those halting words, Reinhard closed his eyes and exhaled slowly.
Amyu's observation was reliable. That pair—no, Natsuki Subaru—had been conversing with someone other than his female companion, just as she had described.
Whether that someone was anyone Reinhard knew, he couldn't say—but— "Thank you for the information. The knights will handle the rest shortly. Do you have any relatives, beyond your family—"
"Ah—"
Amyu reached out and caught the hem of Reinhard's cloak as he was about to stand—frightened, as though afraid he would leave. Her own boldness startled her.
But given what she had been through, it was perfectly understandable.
She had lost her family. She had lost her home. And the hardships that lay ahead— If anything could ease the weight of that uncertainty— "Understood. I'll stay with you until you're safe. Don't worry—no one will hurt you again."
"I-I'm sorry… I'm sorry…"
"You have nothing to apologize for.—You've done nothing wrong."
Holding her hand as fresh tears spilled from her eyes, Reinhard spoke quietly in his heart—to the one responsible for this tragedy.
"Is this… is this what satisfies you? What you see in your eyes—I can't understand it. —Subaru."
Murmuring the name of someone who was not there, Reinhard closed his eyes.
Behind his lids, he saw the figure of the friend who would one day come to kill him. The friend who would spare no means for that purpose.
The friend whom Reinhard would one day, with his own hands, have to cut down.
"That Amyu girl was probably taken in around the time she was picked up by Reinhard."
"The sole survivor of a burned-out village, huh. A kid her age seeing Reinhard would cling to him for dear life.—And now we're in the clear."
"Call it cunning or call it scheming… Well, I'm hardly one to talk."
"Right you are, Captain and Otto-ni—when it comes to this stuff, you two really are in sync."
"Ugehh."
"Oh—they matched!"
Pushing through the undergrowth, Subaru grimaced as he led the way through trackless forest. Beside him, Otto wore a similar expression. Garfiel, seeing their faces, clapped his hands and barked with laughter.
"Fufufu—but isn't it nice having everyone back together? It's been so lively… thanks to Subaru working so hard."
"Coming from you, that actually makes me feel like all this effort paid off. Now if Emilia-tan would show her appreciation in various ways…"
"In various ways?"
"…Well, being the pure-hearted boy that I am, I'm too shy to say it out loud."
Watching Emilia tilt her head innocently, Subaru scratched his cheek and looked away. His gaze met Ram's, directed at him with undisguised contempt.
"How vulgar."
"Don't cut me off like that! I didn't even say anything! I was just hoping you'd praise me for my courage in NOT expressing my embarrassing desire!"
"Ram? Praise Barusu? The world would have to end first."
"That's below natural disasters!?"
Ram shrugged and turned her back, walking away with elegant strides. Watching her go, Subaru's shoulders sagged. Then, two small hands gently took his.
"Oh honestly, don't mope so visibly. You're Betty's partner, you know. If you're like this, the future doesn't look bright, I suppose."
"Exactly. Ram-nee being cold is nothing new. In exchange, I'll be extra sweet to Subaru-sama. There, there."
"Wait—am I being sandwiched by two young girls…? Though, Petra's not that little anymore. Good grief—time moves cruelly on, turning only Beako into a permanent loli…"
"Loli, loli—who are you calling a loli?! That's rude to a lady!!"
Petra, beaming at having graduated from being called "little," and Beatrice, who remained trapped in loli form by nature—it was a study in contrast.
"I hear all the moms and dads out there secretly wish their kids would stop growing at their cutest age. In that sense, Beako, you're a dream come true."
"Hmph… So you're saying Betty is the cutest in the world, in a roundabout way?"
"I'll hold a tournament to decide the cutest in the world, but the prettiest? That's you. I'll award you a medal."
"What about me? What about me, Subaru-sama?"
"Let's see—Petra, you're the cutest in the world."
"Yay!"
Petra squealed with delight, grabbing Beatrice's hand and bouncing. Beatrice, caught up in the momentum, didn't look entirely displeased.
Then— "Oh my, oh my, what an enthusiastic little party. Setting aside appearances, in terms of actual age, I should be the one furthest ahead—yet how adorable~"
"Oh, great…"
Roswaal, stepping forward with a languid stride, revealed his face—and Beatrice's expression soured. (For the record, Petra, still holding Beatrice's hand, also looked displeased, cementing this master's abysmal standing within his own camp.)
"Beatrice-sama, Petra—there's no need to make such faces."
"Yes, exactly! Good one, Frederica—set them straight…"
"The more faces you make like that, the more it pleases Master. That is the sort of person Master is, after all."
"…I take it back."
Struck by Frederica's precise retort, Roswaal was left without a comeback.
Meanwhile, Beatrice and Petra obediently accepted Frederica's words—"All right," "Understood"—meekly.
"Well, it's noisy, but maybe this noise is just another page of everyday life."
"A page of everyday life is fine, but don't forget about me or Meili."
"Hmm…"
A little behind the Emilia camp, who were chatting animatedly as they walked, Julius spoke up.
Closing one eye, he looked at Subaru with his golden gaze— "When it came to facing Reinhard, I'd like to think my advice proved useful."
"I'm not saying it was useless, but your assessment of Reinhard is kind of dreamy-boy biased, so the reliability is questionable. Lay off the hero-worship."
"What a thankless answer. Perhaps I should adjust my approach going forward."
"Now, now—none of that, Julius. You need to keep a proper debt with Natsuki-kun. Even without a contract, that should be quite functional."
Anastasia intervened smoothly, stepping between Subaru and Julius with a merchant's poise. Her seafoam-green eyes fixed on Subaru, making him flinch before she continued.
"Natsuki-kun, you haven't forgotten, right? When we've cooperated properly, and you've become yourself again…"
"…Yeah, I remember. Once I've reclaimed 'Natsuki Subaru' and gone back far enough to fix everything properly…"
Pausing, Subaru took a deep breath and continued.
"That's when I'll finally have the chance to atone for everyone I killed."
Patchwork, patchwork, shaping it into form.
Patchwork, patchwork, molding it into shape.
Patchwork, patchwork, bringing it to color.
Patchwork, patchwork, patching and piecing, drawing it closer to completion.
When the patchwork was finally complete—when it had been patched back together as it once was— Everything could be redone. Everything.
——— "Natsuki Subaru has the power to redo destiny."
That was Natsuki Subaru's conclusion.
Emilia's, Beatrice's, Ram's, Julius's, Meili's, Petra's, Frederica's, Roswaal's, Old Man
If it was "Natsuki Subaru," it should be possible.
Because "Natsuki Subaru" was— "My knight!" / "Betty's partner, I suppose." / "The only man with good timing." / "A fine friend—truly." / "Well, I suppose I can acknowledge you a little." / "Subaru helped me believe I could do my best!" / "I owe Subaru-sama my life—many times over." / "Subaru-kun, you are the one I've waited years to find…" / "I never imagined that young whippersnapper could accomplish this much." / "Captain! Whenever you need anything, just say the word! If it's something I can handle with sheer strength, I'll do whatever it takes!" / "The cleanup inevitably falls on me, so do try to keep it in check." / "It's good to be lively. I think I'll spread my wings a little more with Mimi and the others." / "Ooh, that's quite the change for Ana-chan! Yes, yes—you've been working too hard! You should rest more, that's just right!" / "If the young miss is resting, I can help with the work…" / "When Natsuki-san needs help, I'll make sure the young miss can give it her all." / "Yeah, yeah! I know, I know! Me too, me too! I'm gonna do my best with Garfiel!" / "To repay the kindness of saving the city… though, given the outcome, I can't say that lightly anymore." / "Oh, Kirithaka-san, you hold grudges too long! Because, because—if Natsuki Subaru-sama gets restored completely, everything will come back!"
In a torrent of voices, the companions surrounding Subaru poured their hopes into "Natsuki Subaru."
Listening with a bashful, almost detached air, Subaru nodded.
"Yeah. That's right. I couldn't do it—it was impossible for me—but—"
"If it's Subaru, you can do it?"
"I will… no, I definitely will. Because—right?"
Clenching his fists, Subaru declared it with certainty—and cheers rose from his companions. In the midst of the noise, Emilia approached with a small wave, then pointed toward a figure standing apart from the group.
"—Shaula looks lonely. You can't do that, Subaru. It's cruel."
"That—"
"Don't make excuses. We all want to work hard alongside you, Subaru. But the one working hardest is you, and the one right behind is Shaula. So…"
"———"
"—So you have to treat her properly. —Promise."
Promise—the word meant something impossibly heavy between them.
Or rather—Subaru, who was not "Natsuki Subaru," couldn't know what that promise had meant to the real one.
But even without understanding "Natsuki Subaru," he could understand with piercing clarity the trust in Emilia's eyes as she made this promise.
"…Got it. It's a promise."
"Mm, that's good. —Then, off you go, Subaru."
Smiling, Emilia waved goodbye.
The moment that registered, every companion in Subaru's hazy left eye vanished.
Behind them was only silence—utter, total silence—as though everyone but Subaru had been erased.
There was no one to share a promise with, no promise that had ever existed.
"—Shaula, come here."
Tossing aside his desiccated thoughts, Subaru called to Shaula, who was walking in the distance. Hearing his voice, her face lit up instantly, and she flew to his side.
"What is it, Master? Are you done with that fun little muttering-to-yourself session?"
"You're way too blunt about that. Telling someone whose mind has snapped that their mind has snapped—not helpful."
"Hehe~" Shaula tapped her own head with her fist and stuck out her tongue in a mock apology. Or maybe it wasn't an apology. Either way.
Regardless—since leaving the sand tower, Shaula had been at Subaru's side. Not in Emilia's words, but in truth, she was the greatest contributor to Subaru's objective.
The strategy, the planning—he borrowed the wisdom, knowledge, and ideas of many companions. But what was ultimately needed was execution. In short, fighting power.
For all of that, Shaula's presence was indispensable. And yet Subaru had barely done anything to repay her.
As though she were a well that could be drawn from at any time.
As though, because he wasn't "Natsuki Subaru," anything he did was permissible.
"———"
"Master?"
Shaula tilted her head curiously at Subaru's sudden silence. In that moment, her long black hair cascaded over her bare white shoulder.
Watching that, Subaru swallowed and organized his thoughts.
"Shaula. In the end—what do you want?"
"Hmm? Want what?"
"Don't 'what' me. You know what my objective is."
Pushing aside the thoughts about repaying Shaula, Subaru found himself speaking in that brusque, almost hostile tone.
Shaula furrowed her brow, not quite getting it. She leaned in with a scowl, and Subaru pressed his palm against her forehead.
Holding her there— "I'm going to kill everyone who knew me, and read every one of their 'Books of the Dead.' When everyone I know is gone, you'll be the last. Then I'll read your book. Even after that…"
The crucial piece—the largest missing piece—couldn't be filled by his own power. Subaru had no choice but to gather fragments of "Natsuki Subaru" from every person who knew him, little by little, piece by piece, and construct a patched-together "Natsuki Subaru" from those scraps.
The completed version required the memories of everyone who had been close to "Natsuki Subaru." Just as it was for Emilia and Beatrice, Shaula was no exception.
That was why—he had promised Reinhard, too—he would have to kill her eventually.
This girl, who smiled openly, helped him without hesitation, and treated him with an easy, carefree manner.
She had to be killed.
"You'd still follow me? Shaula?"
"Are you… worried about me? Is that because you love me?"
"…Don't joke. I'm asking seriously."
At Subaru's sincere question, Shaula answered in the same tone as always—and it grated on his nerves enough that he pressed harder.
"Master," Shaula said in return.
"I'm not joking either. Because being loved by Master is the meaning of my life. That's what matters most."
"———"
"If Master loves me, then use me as much as you want. My life is yours. To be used up for Master's sake—that's my wish."
In her usual careless manner, shrugging off his touch with that same light, half-joking atmosphere—Shaula stroked her ample chest.
Stroking it, she turned her dark eyes to Subaru and smiled faintly.
In that smile was her sincerity—unwavering, without a single falsehood, the pure seriousness with which she lived every day.
Shaula was always in earnest.—Because she was in earnest, she never needed to lie.
"Use me up however you want—use me until I die a pathetic death. In exchange, love me. And when I die, cry for me. That's all I need… really, truly, all I need."
"…Why do you give so much to me? I'm not 'Natsuki Subaru.'"
"It doesn't matter, Master."
"———"
"Whether Master is Master or whatever—that's all the same to me. I just want to love the one I want to love, the way I want to love. And if that person loves me back, that's the best. Am I saying something weird?"
Shaula tilted her head, genuinely puzzled at her own words.
Watching her, Subaru let out a small "Ha." It started as a breath, but gradually it turned into something more—a small, hitching laugh.
Subaru laughed.
Not as "Natsuki Subaru." Not performing "Natsuki Subaru" for Emilia and the others. He had forgotten everything about life in this other world, and as an empty Natsuki Subaru—he laughed.
"You know, you really are something else. Here I am, all tormented by this whole 'self-discovery' thing, and you just toss it off so casually, you idiot."
"Ah! Master, are you angry?! Did I say something wrong?! Is it possible that Monday, Thursday, and Friday are burnable garbage days?!"
"I'm not angry. I'm astounded. So astounded I can't even speak."
Sighing, Subaru shook his head lightly and started walking. Shaula watched his retreating back with an unusually timid expression.
At the lingering look in her gaze, Subaru sighed once more.
"Do whatever you want. Just come on."
"Do whatever I want… Does that mean you won't get mad if I cling to your arm?"
"Not if you don't put your whole weight on me."
Her face brightening instantly, Shaula looped Subaru's arm through her chest. Usually rough and careless, when she touched Subaru, her touch was always exquisitely gentle.
As though handling something fragile. As though making sure not to break something precious.
He couldn't escape that knowledge—and that was why Subaru had disliked Shaula's touch. Not disliked—found it uncomfortable. Being treated gently made him uneasy.
He had thought that Shaula wanted to be gentle with "Natsuki Subaru," and that no one cared about a Natsuki Subaru who wasn't "Natsuki Subaru."
"Master, Master~"
"Hm?"
"I love you, Master. Love is over!"
"I see. I don't love you, though."
"Ugh! Master, you're so mean…"
"But—"
"But?"
"…I'm going to kill Reinhard, and then I'm going to kill you last. You'll be the last one I kill—the non-'Natsuki Subaru' me will make sure of that."
"———"
"That much, I promise."
"Ah—ha—ha ha ha! Master, Master, really?! I'm the last?! I'm Master's last woman?!"
"When you put it that way, it makes me want to break the promise already."
"No way! It's a promise! An absolute, absolute promise!"
"I was joking."
"Whaaaat?! Which part was the joke?! Master, Master~!"
Patchwork, patchwork, shaping it into form.
Patchwork, patchwork, molding it into shape.
Patchwork, patchwork, bringing it to color.
Patchwork, patchwork, patching and piecing, drawing it closer to completion.
Patchwork, patchwork, patching—so many patches that the original shape was unrecognizable, and even as a new shape was patched together, still— Patching, and living on.
Patching, and living on.
Until the day he died, patching, living on—.
"An Otherworld Life Patched Together from Zero" Fin