Late Night Hours
The dim light huddled in the corner of the room cast long, motionless shadows across the walls. The pale crimson of sunset had long faded into black, and with it, hope seemed to darken as well.
As the hours dragged on, loneliness settled like a thick blanket.
When everything falls silent, the loudest thing is always the voice inside your head.
Subaru lay on his bed, hands locked behind his head, staring blankly at the ceiling. Even the uneven plaster seemed to whisper reminders to him—each crack a memory.
He was retracing the last few days in his mind.
Satella's arrival—
His encounter with Flugel—
The new abilities and harsh truths he'd learned—
And… starting over.
And now, here he was.
His gaze remained fixed on the ceiling, but his mind was a burning projector, replaying every moment on loop.
Every scene, every breath, every scream—they had carved deep grooves into his memory.
Like indelible writing etched into the walls of his soul.
For ordinary people, these might have been just a few days.
But for Subaru, it felt like an eternity.
"Time," he thought. "It's no longer a straight line. It's bent, shattered—a labyrinth piled on top of me."
Coming back had a cost—but when it would be paid, he didn't even know.
As the night deepened, he hoped to speak with Flugel, to finally get answers.
But one question gnawed at him:
"How the hell do I even talk to him?"
The last time he died, he remembered speaking with Flugel.
That dark void, the silence that swallowed everything…
It was no longer a mystery to him—just a familiar passage.
Not punishment. Habit.
He took a deep breath.
Left the room. Went to the kitchen.
Pulled a knife from the drawer beneath the counter.
When his fingers wrapped around the cold metal, a shiver ran through him.
Not from fear—but from the chill of readiness.
He returned to his room.
Sat slowly on the edge of the bed.
His eyes were empty.
But something still writhed inside him.
Fear? Guilt? Or just… habit?
Maybe he didn't even know the difference anymore.
As he sat there, he pressed the blade to his throat.
Just as he was about to—
"That won't be necessary, Natsuki Subaru."
Flugel's voice filled the room in an instant.
Neither cold nor warm—simply indisputable.
"You don't need to die for us to talk."
Subaru dropped the knife.
The blade clattered against the floor—a sharp metallic ring that echoed through the room. But it wasn't just the sound of metal. Something inside him cracked in tandem.
Then came the silence.
Deep. Familiar.
Cold, shadowy hands wrapped around him, pulling him down.
This sensation wasn't new—
But getting used to it?
No. That was impossible.
It was like being dragged into a void buried beneath his soul.
That fall…
Weightless. Endless.
Time and space dissolved into pure lostness.
And then—
He was standing beside Flugel.
Flugel stared at him with those same empty eyes as always.
Except…
For some reason, he was wearing Subaru's favorite tracksuit.
Seeing his clothes on someone else sent an indescribable discomfort crawling under Subaru's skin. It was like looking at a patched-up version of himself—one he recognized instantly.
"This Mine…" he thought, before biting it back.
"Oi. Copying my clothes is not cool."
His voice was equal parts irritated and uneasy.
But Flugel seemed to expect that reaction.
"Oh? Natsuki Subaru, these are mine. They aren't copied in any way… you know this."
Subaru rolled his eyes. His head was pounding. Arguing wasn't worth the energy.
In this world, questioning things too deeply only led to more pain.
"Whatever. I hate seeing you, but I need answers."
"Hmm?"
Flugel tilted his head slightly—then snapped his fingers.
The shadowy space rippled.
The world around them faded…
And reshaped into a classroom.
Chalkboards nailed to the walls. Faint light filtering through the windows. Rows of desks.
All of it painfully familiar.
And… they were both now wearing school uniforms.
Subaru exhaled before he could even process it.
"Flugel might seem ruthless, but deep down, he's almost… considerate?"
Then he side-eyed the man.
"Or he just enjoys messing with me in this form."
"Don't look at me like that. You wouldn't ask properly in a frightening environment. This classroom is the most suitable place for your questions."
Flugel turned his back.
Subaru raised an eyebrow.
"What are you, a tsundere?!" he blurted.
"Tch. Just ask your questions, Natsuki Subaru."
Flugel sighed dramatically.
Subaru took a deep breath, wetting his dry lips.
"Roswaal said there's a curse on me. That I reek of Witch's Miasma because of it… and that it'll kill me one day."
Flugel's head tilted slightly. A pensive expression flickered across his face.
"A curse? Are you asking about Return by Death?"
Subaru hesitated. His thoughts tangled—then snapped straight.
"No! I mean the other curse. The one that makes me smell like a Witch."
Flugel exhaled through his nose, crossing his arms. His gaze drifted toward the classroom's window—to a sky that didn't exist.
"Natsuki Subaru… Return by Death is the curse."
Subaru's heartbeat slowed.
Return by Death...
The power that revived him every time he died—
Was it truly a curse?
"So... I really am cursed," he thought.
He'd come so far, yet this was still his definition.
Frowning, he shook his head.
"Can you explain this a bit more?"
Flugel rolled his eyes and exhaled sharply. Before speaking, his gaze locked onto Subaru's for a brief moment.
The classroom's light remained steady, but the air between them grew heavier.
Flugel walked to the chalkboard, picked up a piece of chalk, and began—
"Abilities have specific types and categories. They are divided into two: those granted and controlled by the World Spirit—Od Laguna—and those that stand in direct opposition to the world itself."
His voice echoed through the classroom. Time itself seemed frozen; only his words moved.
"Abilities bestowed by the World Spirit are called 'blessings.' Normally, it's like a game of chance—or given to those with exceptionally strong fate. Each generation, the World Spirit selects one person as its envoy, rewarding them with every conceivable blessing. These individuals are called
'the Blessed one.' Currently... that person is Reinhard van Astrea."
Subaru's eyes widened instantly.
Reinhard's poise, his sword, his superhuman reflexes—
It all made sense now.
"We exist in the same world, yet we're so different..."
The thought filled him with both awe and dread.
As if everything in the universe had already been chosen—and he had never been one of them.
A brief silence settled in the classroom.
Subaru lowered his gaze to the desk's surface.
Flugel's voice grew weightier with each word.
And that weight pressed down on Subaru's chest.
Flugel paused, observing Subaru's reaction.
Like a student straining to understand a lecture beyond his grasp, Subaru listened intently. His brow was furrowed, but his eyes still brimmed with questions.
"Factors uncontrollable by the World Spirit are called 'curses.' Currently, humans or monsters in this world can artificially produce weak imitations using mana... But true curses—
The abilities you and I possess—originate from the Witches."
These words hung in the air like sealed incantations.
Subaru still couldn't believe he carried such darkness within him.
He raised his hand.
"Then... is the ability you gave me also a curse?"
Flugel shook his head.
"No. The Authority I granted you—Resonance by Death—is a parasitic-type ability.
It activates in tandem with Return by Death."
Subaru's body tensed slightly.
He felt like he already knew this.
But hearing it aloud... stirred something restless inside him.
Flugel continued:
"Each Authority represents one of the sins. You may have noticed—the sins personified by the Witches here...
Are derived from the seven deadly sins of our original world."
Subaru's head jerked up.
Pieces were clicking together in his mind.
The picture Flugel painted now resembled a prophecy.
"Also, the current Archbishop names... I assume they're based on constellations from our world."
Flugel gave a slow clap.
A rare flicker of satisfaction crossed his face.
His eyes held the pride of a teacher watching a student finally grasp the lesson.
"Yes. Truly so."
Flugel's voice softened momentarily—then hardened again. His words now carried the weight of prophecy.
"Regardless...
Those marked by a Witch's curse, whose bodies emit miasma, are called 'the Cursed one.'
Right now... you're the only"
Subaru's eyes widened.
The title might have sounded cool, but its implications were far darker—
Not that Subaru was the type to care about implications.
"According to legend, one day, 'the Cursed one ' and 'the Blessed one ' will clash.
It is written in their fates.
The Cursed one will become someone who threatens the world to protect what they love.
The Blessed one ... will become someone who sacrifices even their loved ones to save the world."
Subaru's breath hitched. A lump formed in his throat.
"That... fits me perfectly."
The words spilled out almost unconsciously.
"But we're talking about Reinhard. Beating him is impossible."
His voice was barely a whisper, but the emotion behind it was a scream.
Inadequacy—as always—clung to him like a second skin.
Flugel smiled.
The smile of a teacher seeing their student believe for the first time.
Yet hidden within it was a tinge of sorrow.
"I'm here, Natsuki Subaru.
If you grow strong enough... you can defeat."
The words reverberated in Subaru's mind.
The despair inside him collided with a newborn possibility.
For the first time... he truly felt a "chance."
A small spark flickered in his eyes.
For just a moment... a single second... he believed.
For the first time, the future seemed... possible.
A fragile hope, but hope nonetheless.
"Maybe... I really can do it," he whispered inwardly.
A whisper—but one that echoed in the dark.
Subaru hesitated, then asked:
"What about you? Did you... win?"
Flugel's gaze sharpened.
Harsh, yet prideful.
It carried an answer heavy with the past.
"If I hadn't won, I wouldn't be here, Natsuki Subaru."
The classroom fell silent.
Then—the walls trembled.
A crack splintered through the air.
Time itself was fraying.
The world could no longer sustain this conversation.
"Hm... Dawn approaches.
We can't prolong this discussion.
But before you go—one last piece of advice."
Flugel stared at the crumbling walls—not at the past, but at the future.
A future looming over Subaru.
"If you seek greater strength...
Find the Archbishops' Authorities.
And the cursed weapons lost across this world.
Those are the tools you need.
Gather them... refine them... unite them... and master them."
As Flugel's voice echoed, something stirred inside Subaru.
Not uncertainty this time—resolve.
For the first time, he knew exactly where he stood... and where he must go.
Subaru nodded.
For the first time, he willingly embraced a dark path.
It would be thorned. Bloodied.
But it was a path.
"Even crawling forward is better than turning back," he thought.
The room shuddered once more.
The end neared.
Time prepared to return to reality.
"Ah, one more thing—"
Flugel snapped his fingers.
Two daggers materialized before Subaru.
Their gleaming steel seemed to bleed from the shadows themselves, dancing with reflected light in the dimness. Even the darkness appeared to bow before their lethal grace. For a moment, Subaru forgot to breathe.
The blades were flawless—so pristine he could see his own reflection in them.
But that reflection...
It was exhausted.
Wounded.
And now, it had to become more than just a "survivor." It had to become a fighter.
His hands trembled slightly.
These daggers...
These twin weapons...
They weren't mere tools.
They would bear his burdens... drink his blood... shape his destiny.
Flugel's voice cut through the heavy air like a tolling bell:
"Your quest reward... I've found weapons worthy of you. Wield them, Natsuki Subaru."
The words felt less like a blessing and more like a sentencing.
But Subaru was accustomed to bearing weight.
This burden, however, was different.
Flugel watched as Subaru stood transfixed.
His eyes traced the daggers' razor edges—
And in his pupils flickered something weary yet resolute.
Acceptance.
"They're called 'Etherfang.'"
Flugel's voice was low.
"High magic conductivity... You can channel Yin magic through them. Use them."
Subaru inhaled deeply.
As his palms met the cold metal, a shiver ran through him.
It was as if the daggers spoke to him.
Reminding him of his past, his pain, his deepest fears—
While simultaneously promising a future.
"Are these... really mine?"
The thought surfaced unbidden.
"After all this... for the first time, something feels like it truly belongs to me."
His own weapons.
His own burden.
And perhaps... his own destiny.
Flugel snapped his fingers.
The shadows writhed suddenly, coiling around Subaru's ankles and dragging him downward. That familiar darkness began swallowing him whole once more—
But this time... it felt warmer. More welcoming.
As if even the abyss had come to accept him.
As the shadows consumed him, Subaru's voice echoed:
"For this... thank you, Flugel. When... when can we speak again?"
Hope and sorrow intertwined in his words.
This dark passage was known to him now—
Yet what lay beyond remained uncertain.
When would their next conversation come? After which death?
Flugel chuckled softly.
That strange, almost mocking tone... but now, laced with something like warmth.
"Who knows?"
The whisper lingered as Subaru vanished entirely.
[Morning]
"Subaru-sama?... Subaru-sama!"
Subaru's eyelids fluttered open.
They felt heavy—as if reluctant to lift the final veil between him and the waking world.
But that voice... that familiar, hesitant voice called to him from the depths of his mind.
He turned to see the blue-haired maid kneeling beside his bed.
Rem.
She still feared him—that much was clear in her tense posture—
But she'd been ordered to wake him, and duty compelled her.
Her expression was a mix of obligation and unease...
Yet somewhere beneath, a flicker of concern.
Subaru sat up, stretching with a groan.
His neck ached. His mind throbbed. Exhaustion clung to his bones.
He'd returned to the world, yet part of him still lingered in the shadows.
"Good morning, Rem. How are you?"
He somehow felt like he hadn't slept at all.
But the truth was, he really hadn't.
Throughout the entire night, he had wandered between the shadows with Flugel, on the very edges of consciousness.
His mind still seemed to recall the scent of the wooden classroom desk.
That classroom... was a hell.
But a hell filled with knowledge.
Rem was surprised by the question.
She wasn't used to encountering such kindness.
Subaru acting so gently both warmed her heart and made her uneasy.
"I am fine, Subaru-sama. Thank you for asking."
Her voice was still cautious, but there was a hidden warmth within it.
Her heart still fluttered like a bird ready to flee at any moment.
Subaru, with dark circles under his eyes, looked at Rem.
His eyes were bloodshot.
But rather than darkness, there was a tired light within them.
"–I don't deserve to be called 'sama', Rem. Please don't address me like that.
Also, it would be easier for both of us if you didn't feel the need to be so formal.
Act like nothing happened yesterday.
That's what I'm doing too."
His words were firm, but underneath, the truth was clear:
Regret.
Exhaustion.
And the desire to start over.
Another loop... but this time, a little more consciously.
Rem stammered.
"B-but Subaru-sama, I can't do that."
Her voice was almost a whisper.
There was a visible conflict in her eyes:
Should she obey his words, or listen to her heart?
Subaru stood up.
His steps were steady, but the voice of his heart trembled.
It felt like each step carried the weight of a memory.
But this time, he wasn't walking bound by the chains of the past — he was guided by the thread of his will.
He gently took Rem's hands.
"You can, Rem.
I arrived here five days ago, injured.
I'm someone unfamiliar with this place, with no knowledge about it.
I was unconscious for four days, woke up from a coma yesterday, and after speaking briefly with the mansion's owner, Roswaal, I accepted a job here.
Nothing happened between us.
Agreed?"
His words wove a new spell upon reality.
As if he were adding a new page to the book of fate.
A child trying to erase a past he could never truly forget...
Trying to overwrite it with trembling hands, because he had no other choice.
Rem nodded.
Silently... but obediently.
Sometimes, a simple nod could be the first brick removed from a crumbling wall.
Subaru smiled.
A tired but warm smile.
Buried beneath it was a fragile hope.
"Maybe this time... things can be different."
"Alright then. I'm Natsuki Subaru.
Nice to meet you, Rem."
It was a simple sentence, but it carried a heavy weight.
It was a sentence that meant "starting from zero."
Truly, from zero.
Rem smiled in return.
This time, there was a different light in her eyes.
A glimmer of trust... a hint of acceptance.
Something was shifting.
"I... am Rem.
I've been working as a maid at the Roswaal mansion for a long time.
I hope we can get along well, Subaru-kun."
Her words flowed gently.
And this time, her tone held more kindness than fear.
A fragile but genuine bond was being formed.
Ram entered the room.
Her steps were firm, full of her usual discipline...
But when she saw Subaru and Rem smiling at each other, she paused for a moment.
Her body tensed briefly.
She had noticed something.
But her expression quickly returned to its usual sternness.
Noticing everything and saying nothing — that was just Ram's way.
As their attention turned to her, she cleared her throat.
"Subaru-sama, Roswaal-sama invites you to breakfast.
Today marks the first day of your training.
Also, Emilia-sama has requested that I teach you reading and writing.
Fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately—there is a good teacher at the mansion.
That would be me."
Subaru narrowed his eyes slightly.
"Was that a jab at me?" he thought.
But a small smile appeared on his lips.
It stayed hidden, like an inside joke only he could hear.
He didn't smile because he was happy—he smiled because he could still smile.
"Thanks, Ram.
By the way, I'd really appreciate it if you stopped calling me '-sama.'
I don't deserve it. Not yet."
Subaru spoke with a smile.
His words carried both humility and a silent promise:
"Not yet... but one day, I will."
As if he were whispering to a future version of himself.
A contract made with his own destiny.
Ram shot him a knowing glance.
"Oh. The fact that you're aware of that is quite impressive...
In that case, I'll just call you Barusu.
I hope you don't mind."
There was a sharp edge to her voice, but also, strangely, a touch of approval.
Maybe this was how Ram showed acceptance.
Not with gentle words — but she showed it nonetheless.
Subaru chose to mostly ignore her teasing and started walking.
Heading toward breakfast, he moved with slow but steady steps.
With each step, he drifted a little farther from who he had been.
With each step, he became someone a little more rooted in the "now."
Somewhere inside him, fatigue still slumbered...
But something else stirred too:
A kind of hope.
Rem followed behind them with a soft smile.
Maybe it really was possible to leave the past behind.
Maybe each loop didn't just carry pain...
Maybe it carried a chance, too.