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Volume 4, INTERLUDE: EACH GIVES CONCESSION



Volume 4, INTERLUDE: EACH GIVES CONCESSION

Subaru: “—Aaand, done!”

Subaru sticks the two twigs into the heap of snow before him, then wipes the sweat from his brow. It's an amateur work, thrown together in an hour, but he still has to be impressed at the results. Murmurs of admiration spread through the onlooking crowd as well.

Subaru: “Yeah, I must have a talent for this stuff. If we're ever hurting for food money, we can make it snow, and make it as the esteemed snow artists of the nation.”

Emilia: “Stop being so silly. I'm not going to make it snow to help you with that. ...But, it really does look sooo good.”

Says Emilia with a white puff of breath as she sits on the stone steps, observing Subaru's work. Reflected in her amethyst eyes is Subaru's snowman—but since labelling it as a 'snowman' wouldn't quite describe it correctly, perhaps it's better to call it a 'snow sculpture.'

There are now about 20 sculptures of Puck crafted from the leftover snow in SANCTUARY. What had compelled Subaru to make so many? Ask him, and he would only be able to answer with: copious romanticism.

But it's making Emilia and SANCTUARY's people happy, so the shallow rationale will suffice.

???: “I'm sure that you're not trying to be, but you truly are an idiot, Barusu.”

Says someone else, judging Subaru harshly.

The speaker is a girl, seated on the steps with her head on Emilia's lap. She has dressed out of her trademark maid uniform and currently wears a simple white outfit.

Her clothes burned as she wavered between life and death. While her face does look paler than usual, neither her tone nor venom suffer for it. So everything's good.

Subaru: “The two of you keep ganging up to call dumb... I did put in quite a bit of work throughout this whole mess, so can't you be nicer to me? I could use a little more commendation.”

Emilia: “Mm, you're right. Thank you sooo much, Subaru. But I was the one doing work when you were away, so actually I'd like commendation too.”

Subaru: “The stuff you've started saying, Emilia-tan...”

Though, Emilia does deserve praise for protecting SANCTUARY during Subaru's absence. It's uncertain whether the residents would have escaped the Hare had Emilia not instructed them to go in the tomb. And had Emilia not cleared the TRIALS, there would've been nowhere to take shelter anyway.

Neither is it certain that Subaru would have thought to use the tomb as a shelter. Since his thoughts had been fixated on escaping before the snow came.

Subaru: “Well, we'll call it a happy mistake that the Men's Brigade came back and sparked your motivation, Emilia-tan. ...Seriously, thank you.”

This is true for previous affairs too, but this whole series of events involved far too many gambles.

It feels like Subaru couldn't manage on his own, and constantly had others rescuing him. Even though he'd decided to take the hardest parts upon himself, ideally.

Emilia: “But of course, though. If you do absolutely everything for me, Subaru, I'm going stop knowing what I'm even doing here. You've done enough zipping around that it's okay for you to rest a little.”

Subaru: “No it's just that when I want to help with all the brains and brawn I don't have, running around like an idiot's all I can do.”

Emilia: “But that's going to change, yes?”

Says Emilia teasingly, suppressing a laugh as she strokes Ram's head. Subaru instantly understands, and rubs his finger under his nose as he replies with a, “yeah.”

He made many mistakes, and others were constantly rescuing him, but he managed to save basically everything he needed to. And he would never agonize over these issues alone again.

Subaru would no longer hesitate to rely on others, would not slack in his own efforts either, and has people to give him a good kick in the ass when he needs it.

Subaru: “—”

Subaru looks up, shifting his gaze from the clearing to the tomb.

His gaze goes past Emilia as she sits on the steps, all the way to the mouth of the tomb. Inside that place, its TRIAL mechanism absent, are two people.

What could they be discussing inside? It does prey on Subaru's mind, but,

Subaru: “Well, even I have enough tact not to interrupt them.”

There's a wealth of opportunities they have to speak, but they couldn't stand to wait. Surely. They have mountains of things to discuss.

※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※

A girl and a man face each other with a transparent coffin between them.

Girl: “Mother...”

Murmurs the girl as she looks at the woman in the crystal coffin.

It feels like she's floating, like her feet aren't touching the ground. Some of it is from the remaining rush of battle, some of it is from her feelings of loss and liberation from losing her old haunt, and most of it is from the unreal sight before her.

She had never thought that she would see her mother again.

The woman in the coffin—the witch, Echidna—looks not at all different from Beatrice's memories. Long, white, beautiful hair alongside her intelligent yet gentle features. It vividly revives memories of how she smiled at Beatrice, though it only happened rarely.

Beatrice: “Betty... wasn't able to keep her promise to you, I suppose. I'm sorry.”

Beatrice strokes the coffin, beginning the four-hundred-year reunion with an apology.

When they parted, Echidna had instructed Beatrice to give her stockpile of knowledge to THEY. Had given her abundant books to fill the Archive, and a gospel that told the future.

Beatrice no longer has either.

The gospel telling the future that Echidna desired of Beatrice, and all of the knowledge that Echidna amassed, has departed the world as ashes.

Beatrice: “Betty never even met THEY... and the books have burned, in fact. I've done excessively many things I must apologize for, I suppose.”

I'm a terrible daughter, thinks Beatrice.

A foolish daughter who could not achieve even one of her mother's requests, even with four centuries. Now she is meeting her mother who she cannot even face, and should be apologizing profusely, but—

???: “...You look raaaaaaaather more refreshed.”

Mutters the man across from her, easily disclosing her thoughts.

Beatrice glances up to see a man with long hair arise from the dim, smiling weakly. It's Roswaal. He's supposed to be a familiar face, but Beatrice cannot keep herself from feeling offput by him. Perhaps because his eyes, always crazed in pursuit of his goals ever since Beatrice had met him, now look uncertain—and because he is missing is clown makeup, his face bare.

Beatrice: “You best me in terms of refreshed in fact, Roswaal. Making my presence without cosmetics means violating the instructions from your predecessor, I suppose.”

Roswaal: “The clown make-up was a sort of war paint for me, yooooooou see. Wearing it let me interact with others spiritedly, as though I were donning a mask. But there's sooooooooomething I realised.”

Beatrice: “Yes?”

Roswaal: “That regardless of the make-up, I am aaaaaaaan absolute clown. So how meaningful is it, truly, that I neglect my cosmetics?”

Beatrice: “I see, in fact.”

Beatrice nods as Roswaal gives a joking shrug. She fiddles with her pigtails in silence before going on,

Beatrice: “Now,”

Beatrice: “You must have things to say to Mother, I suppose. Reunion with her has been your... has been your family's deepest wish, in fact.”

Roswaal says nothing.

Beatrice: “You mark perhaps the tenth Roswaal since the progenitor who directly knew Mother, I suppose. Lords of the Mathers family have been short-lived for generations, so the visitors to the Archive shifted rather steadily, in fact. ...You've been different ever since childhood, I suppose.”

Beatrice may not have been deeply involved in the history of the Mathers Family, but she did watch from aside how their affairs progressed.

The first Roswaal was Echidna's only student. Though he lost almost all of his magical ability in his fight with the warlock Hector, he did not give up on being Echidna's student.

He frequented the Archive even after Echidna's death, disregarding the dazed Beatrice as he obsessively searched and searched and searched for something, and likely gave that something to his descendant before dying.

Ever since, all the descendants from Roswaal's line demonstrated magical capabilities bordering on those of their progenitor, and the Mathers family expanded.

Now is the current Roswaal. The man standing in front of Beatrice.

This Roswaal exhibited the most supreme talent out of all the Roswaals yet. He was such a genius that, secretly, even Beatrice had to shiver.

His power eclipsed that of the progenitor, who Echidna had singled out personally, and could have done anything he wanted with his claim as one of the strongest magicians in the world.

Beatrice: “You had all that talent, and you still failed to escape the Mathers' curse, in fact. Your family has been entranced with thoughts of reuniting with my deceased Mother, the path a cruel one you fixedly walked... I do sympathise with you somewhat, I suppose.”

Roswaal: “Do you? But how are you and we any different? You spent four centuries bound by the words of your deceased mother. It's identical. Or rather, unlike my family's shifting over the generations, you suffered pain in solitude beyond what anyone can empathise. We did what we needed to strive forward toward our goal. You simply suffered in place.”

Says Roswaal, his words even graver than Beatrice's.

In the end, they're both bad, she thinks.

Roswaal's family has inherited the same feelings over lives upon short lives, in pursuit of a single reunion.

Beatrice had been trapped in an empty cage for her immortal life, waiting for the day that she could fulfil her promise.

An objective onlooker would see them as equally foolish clowns.

The two glare at each other in silence.

But their silent competition ends when Roswaal averts his gaze.

Roswaal: “This is a tedious argument. When two fools point at the other whilst mocking their foolishness, we begin crossing the boundaries of vain comedy.”

Beatrice: “...You are correct there, in fact.”

Roswaal: “Do you mind me asking something?”

Roswaal raises his finger. Beatrice silently looks up, expressing her consent by neglecting to reject him.

Roswaal looks down at Echidna as she sleeps in the coffin.

Roswaal: “Did Subaru-kun manage to be your THEY?”

The word 'they' makes Beatrice swallow her breath. She has never spoken directly with Roswaal about THEY. But Beatrice does not think it strange for him to learn about her from sources outside her knowledge.

And thinking back on it, the people who had visited the Archive until now had ultimately been brought there by Roswaals up to the previous generation. The Roswaals easily could have heard the story from them and passed it on to their descendants.

And frankly you could say that even Subaru had been brought there by Roswaal.

—Not that Subaru would accept it if you told him so.

Roswaal: “...Why are you laughing?”

Beatrice: “—Ah. Sorry, I suppose. I'm not laughing at you, Roswaal, in fact. It just made me imagine something amusing, I suppose.”

It amuses Beatrice how she managed to figure, with pinpoint accuracy, what the black-haired man would say. He's just that straightforward, perhaps. She doesn't want to think any further into it than that.

Either way, Beatrice shakes her head.

Beatrice: “That man is... Subaru is not fit to be my THEY, in fact.”

Roswaal: “...Hrm.”

Beatrice: “Subaru isn't nearly qualified to inherit Mother's archive of knowledge, I suppose. He has no mind to educate himself with the knowledge or use it for his purposes, and he lacks the fundamental background to do either, in fact. And he looks dumb and he's flimsy and he's useless at magic and his legs are short, I suppose. He isn't Betty's awaited THEY in any capacity.”

Roswaal: “That soooooooounds quiiiiiiiiiite the harsh opinion.”

Beatrice: “Exactly, I suppose, Betty is harsh, in fact. And so I rebuffed every opportunity that came to me over these four centuries. ...I rebuffed them with THEY, in fact.”

Beatrice does feel something like guilt towards all those who tried to take her out of the Archive, when she thinks of it now. Not all of them had reached out to Beatrice while thinking only in their own interests. Some of them had spoken kindly to her.

But Beatrice cast away every single hand that reached for her.

Beatrice: “I know that I should've chosen THEY, I suppose. That I should have faced everyone who called to me, individual by individual, and properly thought out my answer, in fact. I was meant to choose someone suitable to inherit the Archive, Echidna's knowledge... that has to be what it was, I suppose.”

Roswaal: “However, you say that the one you picked, Subaru-kun, is unfit to be THEY?”

Beatrice: “I do, in fact. There's no issue, I suppose. Betty's choice is Subaru, in fact. Not THEY. I chose Subaru, I suppose.”

Beatrice sees how Roswaal's breath catches and his eyes open wide.

It must be a difficult answer for him to accept, considering how he has devoted himself to Echidna. Beatrice had been in the exact same position as him until only a moment ago. She understands how Roswaal feels so much that it hurts.

And because she understands, she has to explain it at length.

Beatrice: “Subaru laughed at me when I begged him to be they, in fact. He crowed that he could make me happier than someone I've never seen, I suppose.”

Roswaal: “What a... prideful thing to say.”

Beatrice: “I don't dislike that forcefulness, in fact.”

Rather than enticing her with polite speech, explaining to her what she should do, and clarifying how he would use Echidna's knowledge, he was utterly candid.

Roswaal: “But no matter what he preaches, Subaru-kun will not place you in first. It's obvious simply by looking at him... you must already recognize this.”

Beatrice: “You don't seem to understand, I suppose, Roswaal.”

Roswaal: “I don't?”

Beatrice: “Betty didn't leave the Archive because she's Subaru's number one, in fact. I left the Archive because I want Subaru to be my number one, I suppose.”

Choose me, he said.

I'll be too lonely to live without you, he said.

Convenient prattle, she thought. Pleasant bullshit, she thought.

But it swayed Beatrice's heart. It resonated. It took her heart, sealed stuck in one place for four hundred years, and jolted it.

Now that she knows the freedom she felt the instant she took his hand and left the Archive, and how it almost brought her to tears, her heart just won't stop.

Beatrice: “Abandoning my post may disqualify me as Mother's spirit, but I don't mind, in fact. Betty is contractor Natsuki Subaru's spirit, I suppose. My regret and shame for that... is gone, I suppose.”

Roswaal might consider it a betrayal.

He had also been bound for four centuries by Echidna's curse, and perhaps Beatrice's announcement that she escaped it first was a betrayal to him. She didn't escape by fulfilling her role, but by abandoning it.

If she's going to face her Mother, or face Roswaal, she has to rationalize that.

Beatrice: “—”

Her heart is already resolved. She has already taken that hand.

Beatrice is going to live a life so vivid it never fades to sepia. Something so intense that, no matter how the years drag on, she never forgets those important to her.

So she keeps silent, waiting for Roswaal to reply.

Roswaal: “You don't have to brace yourself. I'm not the Witch Echidna's spokesman. I have no right to intrude on your answer, whatever it may be. Just do what you wish.”

Beatrice: “Roswaal...”

Roswaal: “And even had you not abandoned them, you would have never fulfilled Echidna's orders. Because I would have prioritised my own desires over you and sacrificed you. If we are speaking of betrayals, that constitutes a significant one.”

Beatrice: “—”

Penitently, Roswaal acknowledges his wrongdoings for what happened in the mansion.

Just as Beatrice had realised in the Archive, Roswaal was the one plotting to take Beatrice's life. She had reasoned it the result of the gospel. Though she doesn't see how it all connects.

Beatrice: “Roswaal. What happened to your gospel, I suppose?”

Roswaal: “...It's burned to nothing. Thanks to a wicked maid who deeeeeeefied her master. The future is in ashes now. And perhaps eeeeeeeeeeverything is.”

Beatrice: “Everything is hollow and the future lies imperceptible... would be something, but you look considerably refreshed, in fact.”

Roswaal: “—I wonder iiiiiiiiiif I am.”

Roswaal casts his gaze down in reply to Beatrice's perfect repeat of their previous conversation. He reaches for Echidna in the coffin, for her untouchable fingertips.

Roswaal: “I'm sad that I've lost the definite path to the answer I seek, and scared. ...But perhaps I'm also joyed to read a story that I never could have read before. Though, I haven't felt so in over four centuries now, so I can't tell whether it's legitimate.”

Beatrice: “...?”

Beatrice scrunches her brows. Something feels off about that statement.

Seeing her confusion makes Roswaal smile slightly.

Roswaal: “We haven't spoken nearly enough,”

He says with some self-deprecation.

Roswaal: “You can't dismiss it aaaaaaas being beyond our control. At first there was need to be blindly fixated, but after that we did have time. We spent so much time in the same mansion. And even so, even though we had seen the same things, I kept avoiding you, like I was scared of talking about it.”

Beatrice: “Roswaal, what are you trying to say, I suppose?”

Roswaal: “I'm saying that it could've been... that we could have spent our last four hundred years like we did in Teacher's laboratory together.”

Beatrice: “Teach—!?”

Finding an old, familiar word in Roswaal's quiet speech, Beatrice swallows her breath. She breathes a shaky breath as she swallows down the implications,

Beatrice: “Impossible, are... you, Roswaal?”

Roswaal: “I've always been Roswaal?”

Beatrice: “No! Not like that... you have to know what I mean, I suppose!”

Roswaal: “I'm only joking. And you're correct. I'm—it's me, Beatrice. Roswaal.”

The instant he interrupts himself, Beatrice sees Roswaal in double.

She sees a tall man with long navy hair, and a young man with hair the same colour. That is the youth who adored Echidna, abounding in wits as he tagged along everywhere behind her.

Beatrice: “But, then... Roswaal, this... how!?”

Roswaal: “I'm using one of Teacher's theories from her hunt for immortality, soul transcription. I adopted the least risky of the experiments conducted in this SANCTUARY, and tested it on myself.”

Beatrice: “Soul transcription... that's the experiment to transcribe your consciousness and memories into an empty vessel, achieving a subjective immortality... but that experiment ended in failure when the souls failed to adhere, in fact!”

Roswaal: “Transcribed souls are pretty poor at adhering to vessels when they're empty. That was a setback, but... If the issue is a problem of familiarity between the soul and vessel, then I overcame that problem by increasing that familiarity quotient.”

The research faced setbacks due to problems of familiarity between vessel and soul.

After Lewes Meyer became the nexus of SANCTUARY, Echidna's crazed thirst for knowledge lead her to consider adopting the crystallized Lewes for other experiments.

But the Lewes doubles lacked any quality that let them accept foreign souls, and the experiment ended in failure. Roswaal is saying that he bested this issue by associating the vessel with the soul. After mulling over this, Beatrice finally understands what Roswaal's presence here truly means.

—By transcribing his soul into the body of his descendants, entities close to himself, the first Roswaal continuously extended the path to reach his goal.

Roswaal: “Are you going to call me inhuman, Beatrice?”

Beatrice says nothing.

Roswaal: “Are you going to call it inhuman that I, desiring only my reunion with Teacher, committed the atrocity of assembling my ignorant children as vessels?”

Roswaal's words stab into Beatrice.

But the way that Roswaal gazes so calmly at her makes it almost seem that he's waiting for her to lambaste him.

So Roswaal wants to face judgement too? Just like her, when she informed him that she abandoned her contract with Echidna?

Roswaal must want to ask Beatrice, who knew Echidna, about the morality of his actions. About his four-hundred-year obsession, his unerring and unrequited love that has done nothing but inconvenience others.

Beatrice: “...It's not my job to say anything about it, in fact. I know how this sounds, but Betty's relationships with your descendants were shallow, I suppose. Though, thinking on it now, they were all just you, in fact. So I feel no disgust that you founded yourself on your children outside of the gut reaction, I suppose. My thoughts on it are euch, in fact.”

Roswaal: “Euch, huh. Hooooooooow harsh.”

Beatrice: “But that's all I think, I suppose. Actually, I'm overjoyed that a friend from four hundred years ago is still alive, in fact.”

Roswaal: “...I, see.”

Roswaal closes his eyes. That might not have been the reply that Roswaal was looking for, but Beatrice doesn't care.

Beatrice is conveying her emotions honestly. That's how she resolved to be when she left the Archive. And now,

Beatrice: “Roswaal. Squat down for a moment, I suppose.”

Roswaal: “Squat? Here?”

Roswaal tilts his head as Beatrice points to the ground beside her. Beatrice nods. Roswaal's eyes widen as he obediently squats down on the spot.

Beatrice watches Roswaal squat down as she removes her right shoe. She grasps it firm in her right hand,

Beatrice: “Grin and bear it, in fact.”

Roswaal: “—Ghah!?”

Roswaal's face now rests at the perfect height to get slapped with a shoe.

The satisfying slap echoes through the room as it whacks Roswaal's face aside. He puts his hand to his reddened cheek, eyes spinning.

Beatrice puts her shoe back on during his confusion.

Beatrice: “Since I'm generous, I'll say that's enough to forgive you, I suppose. ...It's just consequences speaking for consequences, in fact. Subaru's going to forgive you too, so I may as well let you off, I suppose.”

Roswaal: “...And I think that's your hindsight bias speaking after everything ended with no deaths.”

Beatrice: “It is, in fact. Also, Subaru's amazing for all the work he did to prevent any deaths, I suppose. You ought to take a lesson from him, in fact.”

Roswaal: “—. Ha, hahaha! Reeeeeeeally now! I ought to take a lesson from him! Ahaha! My god...

ahh, is that not, geeeeeeeeeeeenuinely humorous?”

Roswaal laughs as if Beatrice, hands on her hips, just told an excellent joke. He cannot keep himself from pitching back in laughter and bonking his head on the wall. Then he strikes the back of his head against the wall several times more, before giving a deep sigh.

Roswaal: “Sorry. —But I don't feel that I've done anything wrong. Let me state that much.”

Beatrice: “Whatever, I suppose. If you're going to apologize, do it the others, in fact.”

Roswaal gives Beatrice's curt statement a nod.

Still seated on the ground, he looks up at the coffin.

And,

Roswaal: “Beatrice. What follows is a discussion only between you and me.”

Beatrice: “—”

Roswaal's lowered voice makes Beatrice narrow her eyes.

Beatrice crosses her arms and jerks her chin to say, well, we'll see what you have to say. Roswaal places his hand on the coffin as he pulls himself to his feet, and gazes at Echidna.

His odd-coloured eyes teem with maniacal passion,

Roswaal: “—If it were possible to truly see Teacher again, would you assist me in it?”

※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※

Subaru: “Man, they're really not coming out. I know they have a bunch of stuff to to talk about, but isn't this too much?”

Impatient with the stale situation, Subaru pouts as he waits in the clearing.

He has already made ten more snowmen. There are now thirty sculptures of Puck making various expressions, transfixing Emilia and SANCTUARY's residents.

And Ram, who had quite enviably been borrowing Emilia's lap for the past while, has recovered considerably and now leans easily against the stone steps. But since her gaze keeps shifting toward the tomb, it's clear that she's worried about what's going on inside.

Beatrice has been awoken, and Roswaal has backed down.

Subaru doubts that anything violent will happen, but he does understand Ram's concerns. They haven't heard Roswaal say for himself that he's calmed down after his fit. But they're assuming that he isn't okay.

Subaru: “Well we're just leaving that to Beako.”

Beatrice has known Roswaal for even longer than Ram has. And Beatrice was the one to tell them that the female corpse in the tomb was Echidna's.

It's best that the two of them talk alone if they're going to be doing it in the corpse's presence. Subaru can get involved on the topic of what they're doing with Echidna's corpse afterwards. No issue.

Subaru: “And it'll be easier to talk about our future course after we meet up with Garfiel and the others.”

If they managed to escape the mansion safely, then they should be coming straight to SANCTUARY. Subaru asked the Men's Brigade to drive their carriage back to Arlam Village, too. They should meet up with everyone by tomorrow night at the latest.

They need to deal with the snow covering SANCTUARY and assess damages. Considering how long that will take, it's best that they do have this free time. And also for the sake of their nerves.

By focusing on making snowmen, Subaru has managed to more or less calm down emotionally. He should be able to hold a peaceful conversation with Roswaal.

He's able. Yes he is able. He rather considers himself able.

Emilia: “Good work, Subaru... Why are flailing your arms around?”

Subaru: “Ah, I mean, nothing? I'm not shadowboxing as practice to beat that fucker's face in! He'll probably get me first anyway!”

Emilia: “Really?”

Says Emilia beside him, tilting her head and looking confused.

She looks cheerfully over the rows of snow sculptures.

Emilia: “There's a whole mountain of Pucks. I know he'd be happy to see this.”

Subaru: “Would he? I'm imagining him complaining like, 'But I thought I was prettier than that?'”

Emilia: “Oh, that did sound like him. Puck, are... ah, he's sleeping right now.”

Mutters Emilia as she withdraws a blue crystal from her breast pocket.

The jewel has settled down into a state where it glows a deep blue, reflecting the sunlight on the snow as Emilia holds it.

Puck, devoid of any contract with Emilia, is sealed inside this crystal.

Subaru: “But you can't summon him like you could before.”

Emilia: “No, I can't. This crystal isn't pure enough to seal a spirit as strong as Puck. He's staying inactive so that the crystal doesn't break, but... I don't think I can touch him or talk to him like this...”

Subaru: “Gotta get a better gemstone. Something like the old green one.”

The crystal pendant hanging from Emilia's neck. It shattered into pieces following the cessation of Puck's contract, and apparently was quite a rare stone.

Puck apparently had it with him when he first contracted Emilia, so not even she knows where to acquire one.

Emilia: “But I'll definitely get a good gemstone and bring Puck back someday. Then... there are so many things I want to talk about with him. There's everything he kept quiet from me, and everything I discovered because of it.”

Emilia lovingly strokes the gem's face, her amethyst eyes full of determination.

She looks so stunningly beautiful that Subaru has to swallow his breath. Emilia notices this and glances up at him with a questioning hum. He rubs his nose.

Subaru: “Er, no, it's sorta... Emilia-tan, you've changed. I mean you've always been cute but now it's like you're strong too?”

Emilia: “If I am, then it's thanks to you and everyone else. I'm always only ever getting things from others. I want to be able to repay everyone soon.”

Subaru: “I mean that's the same case here about the only ever getting things thing.”

Subaru and Emilia both keenly feel their powerlessness.

But that doesn't mean they're going to lick each other's wounds. Subaru gets that impression from Emilia, which he finds both heartening and isolating.

He finally got some of the confidence and strength for him to support her, and then she dashes so far ahead that she doesn't need it.

It feels like he could run after her forever, and he'd never catch up.

Emilia: “By the way, Subaru... so, um.”

Subaru: “Mhm?”

Emilia: “They're taking a long time in the tomb. ...Mhm, it sure is long.”

Subaru submerges himself in sentimentality, when Emilia awkwardly calls to him. She glances over to the tomb, which sits there the same as ever.

But Emilia's face is steadily changing colour. Her cheeks grow flushed, and seeing how the intense blush reaches to the tips of her pointed ears, Subaru panics.

Subaru: “E-Emilia-tan!? Your face just flashed to red, I mean are you okay!?”

Emilia: “I-I'm, okey. I am absolutely composed. Now I would, uhrm, like to discuss a certain matter.”

Subaru: “I, I'm, indeed.”

For some reason having Emilia speak politely makes Subaru wind up doing the same.

Emilia glances over the area, and once she confirms that no one is nearby, she gazes red-faced at Subaru. More specifically, she gazes at Subaru's mouth.

Emilia: “So, um... Subaru, it's like, you said that you l... love me, right?”

Subaru: “Erm, um, yes. I did say that. I love you.”

Emilia: “—. Well, that, erm, makes me, sooo, sooo happy, but...”

The way that Emilia's sentence trails off gives Subaru a bad feeling.

She just said “That makes me happy, but...”. Subaru can think of only one thing that could follow on from this.

This sentence ends in: Let's just be friends.

Subaru: “I did mention this before, that I'm waiting for you to notice me, and'll put in my best effort so that you do.”

Emilia: “I'm... that, makes me very happy. But, even when you say these things to me, I don't really understand what it is to like someone like that.”

Subaru says nothing.

Emilia: “It was the same in the carriage, and it's the same now in the tomb. You're telling me you love me, but I still have nothing I can tell you. I know it's sooo terrible of me...”

Hearing her sentence reach its feeble end, Subaru puts his hand to his chest in relief. Emilia's answer is still in standby mode, then. Nothing's changed from before, which is fine.

So long as Subaru's repeated and persistent love confessions haven't sickened her, everything's fine. Subaru will offer Emilia his hand without fail, provided she could just get stuck enough to need it. That's the slight discord between Subaru and Emilia's recognition of the other's feelings. Which becomes utterly pointless with Emilia's next statement.

Emilia: “But! I think that we really need to talk about the baby in my tummy!”

Subaru: “—”

—.

————.

————————.

Subaru: “Pardon me?”

Emilia: “I don't know if they're a boy or a girl yet, but either way we have to shower them in love! But I was never taught about that so I don't know what to do... You have to talk to the dad for these things.”

Subaru: “No, no, no no, no... wait, wait, wait...”

Subaru's mind cannot catch up to Emilia as she rapidly talks on.

The speed of Emilia's speech has made her out of breath too, and Subaru can see that she's agitated. There is no way that the two of them can converse decently like this.

Subaru: “Emilia-tan, take deep breaths, and calm down a second. I'm doing that, right now, taking deep breaths to calm down. Oh hey there's some snow over here.”

Subaru squats down, gets a handful of snow, and smacks it onto his face to physically cool himself down. He hears Emilia breathing deeply as he forces himself to think rationally.

The baby in Emilia's tummy. Emilia's the mom, and Subaru's the dad. He doesn't get it. Subaru's coming of age still has yet to happen.

Subaru: “Emilia-tan. When you say baby, you mean like an infant, right?”

Emilia: “E-exactly. I know it'll be tough with the Royal Selection, but... that's not the baby's fault, and we have to make sure they're happy! I want the baby to get the love it needs from the people who must love it.”

Emilia's determination is noble and beautiful.

But what she's saying doesn't make sense. Subaru has never done anything like that with Emilia. Which means that Emilia and someone else have—no he'd rather not think about that.

Subaru: “Emilia-tan... you know that babies don't come from storks or cabbage patches, right?”

Emilia: “But when a boy and a girl kiss that makes a baby.”

Subaru: “—”

He is stunned.

At her ignorance, and how adorable she is for thinking this.

Emilia: “Subaru? What's wrong? Hey, Subaru!”

Emilia doesn't look to understand anything at all as she calls Subaru's name.

It somehow looks like her expression has grown stronger thanks to motherly self-awareness. Perhaps that was why Emilia seemed strong to him. Which means that maybe he shouldn't fix this misunderstanding.

—No. He must. This isn't the time for him to be thinking this stuff. If Emilia keeps on this course, everything's going to continue alongside Emilia's fake pregnancy. She'll be imagining her stomach growing bigger by the day and talking to the thing. Which is cute, but presents its own problems.

Emilia: “Subaru, maybe, you regret kissing me...?”

Subaru: “Uh no actually I'm craving your infinite kisses!?”

Emilia: “A-are you now...”

Subaru regrets his knee-jerk response as the conversation flows deeper into a swamp of misunderstandings.

Subaru basically just told Emilia that he's craving infinite baby-making. And he is, but that comes later.

Emilia needs to be educated properly at this very first stage.

But how come Subaru has to be the one to do it?

Subaru: “C-curse you, Puck!”

Subaru curses the cat spirit sleeping deep in the crystal.

In his mind, he sees the cat put its paw to his head, stick out its tongue, and say: Whoops!

—Subaru, after all his ambivalence, only realises that he can have Ram or Frederica do the explaining long after Emilia starts pestering him about picking names for the child.


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