Chapter Text
Lying in his bed, Subaru stared up at the ceiling, his gaze vacant but intense, as if waiting for the ceiling to transform in a way that would never happen.
If one could share his vision, they would instantly see why he stared at the ceiling like that—because he could only see half of it.
And despite all his wishes, despite all his effort, he knew he would never regain his full sight.
Because if one were to look upon him, they would see that one of his eyes was missing.
As he reached up to his face, he was reminded of that fact as his fingers felt the hole in his skull where one of his eyes used to be.
The hand he used to feel that emptiness was the only hand he had left, for his other arm was utterly destroyed at the hands of a demon.
His hand drifted down his body toward his leg.
One leg was there, same as it always was. The other was gone, its absence made apparent by the empty pant leg that draped against the bed.
It was these feelings—the feeling of his missing eye, his missing arm, and missing leg—that kept him up that night.
These feelings kept him up every night as he would continue to stare up at a ceiling that would never be whole.
The feeling of his broken and destroyed body, reduced to less than half of what he once was.
And even if he did sleep, he knew he would just be greeted by nightmares of death and misery.
Nightmares of his guts spilling out onto the ground, of his limbs crushed or sliced off, of his torso being smashed by a morning star.
Mana of water, heal this body.
He turned to face the wheelchair set next to his bed.
It was a device designed to his exact, painstaking specifications so that he might be able to move it somewhat with one hand.
It was the only way he could move even somewhat properly now; otherwise he was bound to the world of his bed because he no longer had two legs to freely move around upon.
He stared at the wheelchair for a solid minute, as if he was struggling to accept its existence, before he began to move toward it.
The process was slow, frustrating, and painful as he tried to pull and push himself toward it with his barely functional body.
He felt much like a worm moving across the earth.
He coughed and groaned as he struggled to position himself onto the wheelchair over the course of the next few minutes.
Even that simple exertion was challenging for him.
But it was the reality he would have to live with from now on.
And as a reward for his effort, he was finally able to sit down upon the wheelchair properly. He was able to adjust it and move around using it.
The wheelchair had a handle that allowed him to move and guide it, designed over the course of a couple of days—and only thanks to the help of Reinhard van Astrea, the Sword Saint.
“Heh… how… pathetic…”
Subaru let out the words in a strained and bitter tone.
It was not bitterness toward the Sword Saint; that was the furthest thing from his mind.
Instead, he was bitter toward himself, for being such a pathetic individual.
That a guy like that has to go through so much trouble for someone as helpless as me… that is pathetic. I’m just pathetic.
In truth, he considered Reinhard to be the first friend he made in this world…
At least, I hope we are friends…
Though he didn’t count on it.
Reinhard was strong—impossibly strong.
Meanwhile…
I’m probably the weakest person in this entire kingdom, especially now.
The light of the moon began to pour through the window, the clouds that had been obscuring it passing by.
Subaru had wheeled himself over to a mirror and beheld the broken form that was once someone else.
He stared at the hideous form, still struggling to process if it really was who he was now.
Before, when he looked in a mirror, he would have seen Subaru Natsuki, the son of Kenichi and Naoko Natsuki.
He was a boy who had come to this fantasy world from Japan.
But now, when he looked in the mirror, all he saw was a hideous and broken thing he had been reduced to.
A hole where one of his eyes used to be, where he still felt a hollowness that would forever scream at him that something was wrong, that something was missing.
Of course, that was not the extent of his damage. One of his arms was missing, making his torso lopsided and unsightly. And the pajama pants draped over the chair made it obvious he only had one leg—the other had been sliced off.
Even his remaining leg was badly mangled, and it would be some time before he could hope to move it again, not that it would do him much good by itself.
He couldn’t help but pull at some of the buttons that held his pajamas closed, opening them to reveal scars running along his body.
A deep scar on his neck constantly prevented him from speaking for long periods. In fact, it stopped him from being who he used to be. If he spoke too much, he would choke, begin coughing violently, or even suffocate on his own words, forcing him to catch his breath again.
Fitting that it was the blow that was meant to end his life, in some ways it did just that.
He had become a shell of who he once was.
Where Subaru Natsuki was once loud, now he had to be quiet—perhaps forever.
He had been crippled physically in a single night, and mentally from that night and perhaps from the entire week before.
When he was found in his broken state by Reinhard, he had been taken to Felix, the best healer in the kingdom.
But there was only so much Felix could do for him.
Felix could not reattach limbs that were no longer there, and the same held true for his utterly destroyed eye.
Thus he was condemned to the life of a cripple, bound to a wheelchair to move and forced to rely upon the kindness of others to survive.
He couldn’t—or rather wouldn’t—even eat properly unless someone forced him to.
As the reality of his situation continued to sink in, he couldn’t help but feel tears beginning to well within his one remaining eye, while the other simply burned.
“Do…n’t… cry… id…iot…”
He was an idiot and he knew it.
A smart person would not have gotten into the situation he found himself in.
It all began when he met a half‑elf named Emilia on his first day in this new world and tried to help her recover her insignia. That was when he died. He discovered his ability to Return by Death that day, after dying three times in a row while attempting to help her. And he would have died even more if he hadn’t also met Reinhard that same day, when he asked for help after being attacked by three thugs.
Emilia and Reinhard were the kindest people he had met that day.
And then, he ended up injured and unconscious, taken in by Emilia and healed as part of her gratitude for helping her recover her insignia and saving her from being killed by Elsa. He was brought to the mansion of her sponsor, Roswaal L. Mathers—a man Subaru found eccentric, with his clown‑like makeup.
There, he also met other figures: Beatrice, a loli‑sized girl with drill‑like blonde hair, and a pair of twin maids—Rem and Ram.
Just remembering them made him tremble from head to toe.
As his reward for helping Emilia in his first loop, he asked for a job. He worked as a butler for a few days that time, learning from both of the girls, picking up skills for his job, and even learning to read and write. In the second loop, he made the same request, trying to find a way to survive. But then, he started vomiting blood and experiencing excruciating pain—pain that only ended when his skull was crushed, shortly after having one of his arms torn off.
This led him to suspect that there was a killer attacking the mansion and its residents.
In the third loop—his final one in the mansion—he asked only to be a visitor.
After spending a few days there, he decided to leave. A carefully crafted lie. He took a knife and went to a hill overlooking the mansion, intending to watch over it. He tried to act like a hero, hoping to help the people he had met and believed he had befriended in those lost days.
But it was all a lie…
The one who had killed him in the second loop—whom he also suspected had killed him in the first—was Rem. The blue‑haired Oni maid. She attacked him, wounded him severely, and when he tried to flee, she tore off his leg, leaving him incapacitated. She left him at her mercy to be tortured for hours.
Beaten, healed, tortured, and broken. His mind and body were both destroyed.
For he realized how little they had ever truly trusted him—how everything he had experienced with them had been a lie.
And then his throat was slit with wind magic.
He SHOULD have died then.
But by some stroke of luck, he did not die. He went into shock from the damage and watched as his body was discarded by Rem and Ram—who he realized had been the one to attack him so brutally—tossed into a shallow grave.
Like trash.
—
—
—
—
—
Agony filled his entire being, an intense, sharp, burning sensation that radiated from his head all the way down to the tips of his toes.
His vision was blurred by both pain and blood as he struggled to have any bearing on his surroundings.
To even breathe was to invite agony as he laid on the border between life and death.
For a time he heard voices—faint and muddled, much like his entire existence was. Every sense was twisted up in a churning sea of agony that smothered him.
He presumed one to be Rem, the oni girl who had ruthlessly tortured him in the woods for the past few hours.
The other voice, so similar and yet so different, he thought might be Ram.
He figured that she was the one who sliced his throat and his leg.
But now the voices were gone, and he felt himself covered in dirt and darkness. He had been left to rot within a shallow grave, so close to death that to an outsider he would seem like a corpse already.
Had Rem been in a clearer headspace, she would have noticed.
Had Ram not been in a rush to dispose of him, she would have noticed.
But by some divine or unholy providence, neither had noticed that he still drew breath—if only barely.
It was an ironic mercy of sorts.
And yet, for one who had tasted death half a dozen times already—for one for whom death was not the end—he refused to die.
The primal fear of death was still etched within him, not yet totally extinguished.
Like nearly every creature on the planet, a single thought dominated his being as he lay there at death’s door:
I don’t want to die!
Mustering his feeble strength, he tried to push upward, even as his body felt like it might collapse under its own weight alone.
I don’t want to die!
With feral desperation he began to claw his way out from the shallow layer of dirt that covered his body, using the one arm he had left in a mad, desperate attempt at living.
I don’t want to die!
Emerging beneath the night sky, the entire world was still a blur of darkness, blood, tears, and agony.
I don’t want to die!
I don’t want to die!
I don’t want to die!
He crawled across the forest floor, dragging his limp body along by his single arm as he trailed blood and tears.
It was both a miserably pathetic sight and also one that demonstrated a near‑boundless well of determination and resolve.
I don’t want to die!
I don’t want to die!
I don’t want to die!
That thought continued to dominate him, echoing in his mind as he crawled and clawed his way through the forest, before collapsing as he finally reached the road.
He was plunged into the deep and cold darkness of slumber, fully expecting to pass through the gates of death yet again.
Possibly to be ripped back toward the start of his days within the manor—though so badly beaten was he that he had forgotten that possible truth.
—
—
When he awoke, he was not within his bed in Roswaal’s mansion.
Instead, he felt himself upon a hard wooden surface with the rattling of a road beneath him.
“Urg… hu… hgh...” he let out a groan, spitting out some blood as he did.
“Holy shit!”
“He’s alive!?”
“Told you!”
“We need to get him to a healer and fast!”
“Hey kid!? Are you alright?”
“Of course he’s not fucking alright! Hey! Can you hear me?!”
He heard voices around him. Forcing his one eye open, his vision was still stained with blood and tears.
All he could make out was the vague shape of people.
“... Ugh… I… I… gughk!”
“Hey! Can you hear us? Can you speak?”
“Of course he can’t speak! The kid’s throat is fucking slit!”
“Hang on! Just try to rest!”
Those were the last words he heard before he slipped back into darkness.
He awoke again a few more times in that same state, feeling the rattling of the road beneath him and hearing the voices of others.
—
—
“The kid’s going to die before we reach the capital.”
“He’s holding on so far. What sort of people would we be if we gave up on him?”
“Just keep doing what you can to keep him alive.”
—
—
“Hang on kid, we are almost there.”
“How IS he still alive?”
“It’s a fuckin’ miracle, that’s what it is.”
—
—
“Yes! We just found him on the road like this… No, we don’t know who he is.”
“Are you going to help him or not?”
—
—
When he awoke again, he was somewhere else.
No longer did he feel as if he was on a wooden surface—he was within a bed of some kind.
Someone was standing over him as he felt a familiar sensation wash over him: healing magic.
He tensed and shut his one good eye tightly.
He expected the inevitable crash of a morningstar against his flesh and the breaking of his bones.
But that feeling never came.
Instead, the stream of healing magic continued in an attempt to soothe his form.
“Hey! I think he’s awake!” the healer called out.
Someone else rushed over, so that now two people were standing over him.
Subaru’s vision was no longer clouded by blood, and he could somewhat make out the form of two white‑gloved individuals above him.
“Hey? Can you hear us?”
Subaru mustered all his strength to nod his head.
“Alright, he can hear. That’s good.”
“What’s your name?” the one healing him asked.
“Su… baru… kughuk… Natsu… ki… ghuagk!”
“He can’t talk anymore! His throat is still damaged, it’ll just open up the wound!”
And then Subaru blacked out again.
—
—
He awoke again in darkness, two individuals standing over him as one continued to apply healing magic.
“Why aren’t some of these wounds healing?”
“He has a tenacious will. He should be dead.”
“It isn’t just that. It’s like he was healed before but… wrongly, or maybe he was injured again before the magic could fully settle. It’s making some of these wounds difficult to keep closed.”
“Well, keep trying.”
—
—
“He isn’t getting any better.”
“But he isn’t getting worse either.”
“At least… we are keeping him alive for now.”
—
—
The next time he awoke, he saw someone standing over him still, who noticed as his eye opened.
“Hey, Subaru was it? Are you awake? Can you hear me?”
Subaru slowly nodded his head.
The healer wore a serious expression as he intensified the magic he was using on Subaru.
“Listen, Subaru, to me—very carefully. Is there anyone we can call? Anyone who knows you and can help?” the healer asked.
Subaru thought long and hard about that.
He wanted to say Emilia, or Roswaal.
But that would bring him back to the mansion—back into the grasp of the two oni who left him for dead.
But then he remembered someone else.
“Re… in… ha… rd,” he choked out.
The healer’s eyes went wide.
“Reinhard? Do you mean the Sword Saint?”
Subaru weakly nodded his head.
The healer narrowed his gaze.
“Listen, I can imagine you want his help. But you can’t just—”
“He… knows… me…” Subaru muttered weakly.
“What?” the healer asked, still skeptical but willing to hear him out.
“I… help…ed… him… find… a can…didate… Felt…”
The healer still looked disbelieving, but the desperate look in Subaru’s eye made something in him soften.
“Please…”
And then Subaru Natsuki fell into darkness yet again.
—
—
When he awoke again, it was in a different bed with someone else healing him.
The sensation through his body was different too. He was still in agony but he no longer felt like a thousand hands were trying to drag him through the gates of death/
It was a boy with cat ears, who he would later learn was named Felix Argyle—the best healer in the kingdom with the title Blue and friend to Reinhard.
Reinhard and Felt were also standing nearby, looks of distress and worry were plain across their faces.
“Subaru! You’re awake!” Reinhard’s face lit up with both concern and something close to joy.
Felt noticed it too as he rushed over, only to be held back when Felix raised a hand to keep them from crowding Subaru.
“Subaru‑kyun, can you speak?” Felix asked with all the tenderness a doctor could muster.
“Yes…” His voice was still scratchy and strained.
Felix sighed. “I was able to save syome of nyewer vocal chords, but nyot all of them. Speaking will be hard for nyew,” Felix explained gently.
Subaru slowly nodded.
“It may take a long time and many treatments for that to heal, and there is nyothing I can dyew about neywer eye and leg. I’m sorry,” Felix sighed.
Subaru slowly nodded again, a tear filling his gaze.
Reinhard slowly approached Subaru.
“Subaru, what happened? Weren’t you with Lady Emilia?” the Sword Saint asked, something close to panic in his voice.
But as he finished his question, Subaru Natsuki already fell back into the darkness of slumber.
- - -
- - -
- - -
- - -
- - -
It was after Felix had finished healing him that he was taken into the Felt Camp and offered a place to stay at the Astrea mansion.
He was given clothes, a room, food, and care.
But a question lingered within his mind.
But what can I even do here?
There was then a knock on the door.
“Guest, dinner will be ready soon. Master Reinhard and Lady Felt will be here to fetch you,” one of the maids informed him through the doorway.
It would be highly unusual for someone of either Reinhard or Felt’s position to take care of him personally. But this was an unusual situation, and they were unusual people who did feel responsible for the miserable fate that befell him. As such, it was they who often helped care for him personally.
Subaru let out a tired sigh. A part of him wanted to protest such treatment, but he found it not worth the energy. And some part of himself—one he found selfish and personally repugnant—actually welcomed it, a greedy and indulgent part of his psyche that craved the attention they gave him.
He knew it was fueled by pity and regret, but it was at least something.
I’m pathetic…
The door eventually opened as both the blonde‑haired Felt and the redheaded Reinhard walked into the room.
“Hey there, big bro. How are you feeling today?” Felt asked, slowly approaching Subaru. Her voice was filled with a care and gentleness that most would find unusual coming from her.
“I’m… O… K…” Subaru spoke in his still‑strained voice.
Reinhard let out a quiet sigh, but for him that was the equivalent of a sonnet of frustration.
“Well, let’s get you something to eat. You haven’t eaten anything all day,” Felt said as she took hold of the back of his wheelchair and began to push him out of the room.
“You… don’t… have… to… both…er… you… know…” Subaru said to her, hanging his head low.
“Shut up and quit it with that stupid talk,” Felt said as she pushed him along.
“It really is no bother at all, Subaru,” Reinhard said, walking alongside the two as they made their way toward the dining hall.
“I… guess… if… you… say… so,” Subaru relented, finding no will to seriously push back.
Subaru said nothing else as he was taken to the dining hall, placed in one of the seats as food was quickly served to him.
It was a smaller portion than normal—not out of disrespect, but due to his preference.
They knew well enough by now that forcing him to eat a regular portion would end badly.
The food was also already cut up for him, allowing him to eat with one hand and a simple fork.
They did not trust him with a knife for a very particular reason.
The meal began quietly, with Subaru slowly picking at the tiniest scraps of food as Felt and Reinhard both ate—slowly, but normally.
As they did, Reinhard and Felt traded a look. Both had the same question on their minds, and both had the same goal.
“Big bro… what we talked about before, are you sure about it?” she asked, her voice unusually tepid.
He nodded once. “...Yes...”
Reinhard shook his head.
“With all due respect, Subaru, I know you’ve been through a lot, but you should at least consider taking legal proceedings. My word, as well as all the other evidence, would align in your favor. Especially given the notes from Felix, the suffering you endured was cruel and unusual, if not outright unlawful given the situation.” Reinhard said, maintaining his respectful tone but with more vigor—more push—than he would normally use.
For those who knew the Sword Saint, it was as if he were screaming the words in Subaru’s face.
“It’s… too… much… trouble,” Subaru said, putting down his fork as he mustered what energy he could to speak.
He didn’t want to deal with this, even if he knew it was just because he was being a coward.
“Like hell it is!” Felt stood up and slammed her hands down on the table, glaring with the fury of a lion. Though her anger, while fierce and fiery, was not directed at him—it was on his behalf.
“Those bitches tore you up and left you for dead! There’s no way you can just let them get away with it!”
Subaru let out a deep sigh.
Reinhard raised a hand and beckoned Felt to sit. “Lady Felt, please.”
Though his reproach was far less forceful than it would normally be, because in truth Reinhard shared her frustrations—even if he’d phrase them more eloquently.
He turned to Subaru. “But Subaru, you must understand. The way you were treated was inhuman. To simply let it be would be… well, it simply would not be right. Surely you must want to do something?”
Subaru looked at the two of them.
It was after Felix left that he told them the truth of what happened—of what Rem and Ram did to him while he stayed within the Mathers domain.
Upon hearing what he suffered, and why, Felt was infuriated.
So great was her rage that she wanted to send Reinhard over there to apprehend the two maids immediately and bring them to justice.
It was a sentiment Reinhard shared.
The image of those two, so angry on his behalf, was still burned into his memory.
—
—
“THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T WANT US TO DO ANYTHING?” Felt shouted, looking as if she might combust into rage out of sheer fury.
“I… Just… its… too… much…” Subaru responded meekly, sitting in the chair provided for him by Reinhard.
“Too much! TOO MUCH! THE HELL IT IS! Those bitches TORE YOU APART and you want us to do NOTHING!” She screamed.
She nearly stormed right up to his face before Reinhard put a hand on her shoulder, preventing her from drawing any closer to him.
But his own expression was not much better. A darkness had fallen over his face, his normally calm and gentle expression morphed into a glower of rage.
If Felt looked like a beast ready to rip someone apart then Reinhard looked like a stern and disappointed parent.
But that didn’t quite convey the full feeling with Reinhard. It was like a storm of absolute destruction was contained just beneath the surface of his flesh— desperate to be unleashed.
Like a god ready to deliver divine judgement.
“Subaru, respectfully. I have to protest. I could go there right now and apprehend both of the maids at least. This… What happened to you is not something that can be seen as forgivable in the slightest.
While he held Felt back, that was more for Subaru’s sake than out of any disagreement. He shared his lady’s outrage.
“I… know… it’s… not… but… I… have… my… reasons.”
And upon hearing them, the two relented, if only barely.
Felt still stormed about the room, rambling in wrathful incoherence.
While Reinhard stood nearby, the discontented frown on his face conveying nearly as much rage in a far more subtle way.
Subaru honestly felt slightly scared—not because he felt in danger, but because he felt like he was next to two missiles about to fire at some distant target.
—
—
And sitting at the dinner table, he still felt like those two missiles were armed and ready to fire.
“I… don’t… want… Emilia‑tan… to… have… problems.”
He coughed slightly as he finished giving his reason yet again.
It was a reason that suited him, the same reason he gave them when he first asked, and it still held true.
Felt let out an overly dramatic groan as she shook her head.
“Seriously, big bro? Even after all that?”
Reinhard stared at Subaru for several moments before sighing.
“I understand. You still care for Lady Emilia, then?”
Subaru slowly nodded his head again.
“Pathetic… I… know.”
Felt rubbed her forehead as she sank back into her seat.
“Fine… for now. But when we get a chance, we are nailing those two maid bitches to the wall! Got that?”
“Subaru, at least let us confront them when the time is properly right,” Reinhard said, locking his eyes with Subaru’s now cyclopean gaze.
“When… it’s… time…” Subaru relented.
As long as those two could be taken care of without harming Emilia, he had no problem with that.
“Good! I’d rather go over and bust their heads in now, but it can wait. Now eat up—seriously, you need it,” Felt said, pointing back to Subaru’s mostly untouched plate.
Subaru weakly nodded his head again and picked up his fork, slowly resuming eating—now actually taking bits of meat into his mouth to chew.
*******
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*******
Within the domain of Roswaal L. Mathers, two maids who were sisters—and twins—went about their work as they always did.
They cleaned, they cooked, they handled every task that their master gave to them.
But they were quieter than before, a distance placed between them and the world around them.
And their master had noticed something amiss with them the past few days, ever since a certain guest who had caught his interest had left.
As he encountered the two cleaning the dining room, he approached them casually as he might always do.
“Ram, Rem, is all weeeeeeell?” he asked with a curious but aloof glint in his eye.
The two stood upright and bowed their heads in synch.
“Yes, Master Roswaal, everything is well,” Ram replied while Rem remained silent.
He carefully looked them both over; their stiff demeanor was not unnoticed by him.
“I seeee. Well, doooo inform me if anything is wrong,” Roswaal said with his trademark confident smirk as he turned to leave.
The two sisters then returned to cleaning as if nothing had happened.
A few minutes passed before Ram looked up at Rem. “Sissy, we do need to talk about it.”
The concern and indeed, the disappointment, was obvious in her voice.
Rem shook her head.
“There is nothing to talk about.”
Ram frowned, staring at her with a critical gaze.
The heavy weight of Ram’s look felt as if it was pressing down upon Rem’s head.
The blue‑haired oni couldn’t help but shift uncomfortably beneath that weight.
Her sister’s approval was everything to her.
“Rem, what happened?” Ram asked.
“He was a Witch Cultist. That miserable guest,” Rem muttered in a quiet tone.
“Are you sure he was?” Ram asked, not totally trusting her sister’s judgement in this matter..
Rem nodded her head vigorously.
“Ye‑yes, I am sure. The Witch’s Scent is thick upon him! It’s almost suffocating. It was on him since he first arrived in the mansion. I wanted to be rid of him then but I couldn’t!”
Ram nodded slowly.
“I see…”
Though in truth she wasn’t convinced.
“And… when he supposedly left, as it turns out he was hiding out around the mansion. He was spying on us! Likely for the cult, likely because Master Roswaal supports a candidate who is a silver‑haired half‑elf. So… I took care of him. I got rid of that wretch as I should, before he could do something to destroy our home!”
Ram shook her head.
“You should have at least told me, told Master Roswaal. We could have taken care of it.”
Rem shook her head. “No one else needed to worry about that. I could have taken care of it on my own.”
“And what if you couldn’t!?” Ram’s tone grew harsher, causing Rem to stiffen and look at her with surprise.
“If he was a cultist, then others could have been around, or he could have used some strange power. You could have been hurt, Rem! Then what would I do?” Ram asked, her own frustration at the events from a few nights prior now bubbling to the surface.
“And a tragedy still happened! Several children from the village were slain by curses! Rem, you can’t just run off like that! Not alone.”
Rem trembled as she heard her sister’s words, and was reminded of the tragedy in the village that occurred shortly after she dispatched the cultist.
“I… I’m sorry. I must have caused you problems again, sister. I just… didn’t want to worry you.” Rem hung her head low and sighed, feeling like a worthless failure of a sister all over again.
If only I was smarter. Maybe if I acted more decisively, those children would be alive. Damn the cult! All of them need to burn in hell.
Ram let out a deep breath, trying to compose herself.
“It’s… it’s fine, Rem. We took care of it. He’s gone. But please, don’t do anything rash like that again.”
Rem nodded slowly.
“Alright, Sissy. I am… sorry for making trouble. I just couldn’t stand to let one of them get away.”
Ram slowly approached Rem and hugged her tightly. Holding her as if she might slip away were her grip not firm enough.
“Si‑sissy?” Rem stammered in surprise at the embrace.
Ram held Rem close.
“Rem, I’ll always be there for you. You mean the world to me, so please, be careful from now on. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”
“I… alright, Sissy. I promise.” And Rem hugged her tightly back.
“Now come, the problem is solved, for better or worse. We should go back to serving Roswaal-sama’s will without fail.” Ram declared her intent. A return to the status quo, that would be for the best.
Rem smiled back at her. “Ye-yes sissy!”
Some life returned to her voice.
She was happy to still have her sister, happy that she had protected her little world.
The sisters believed that their problems were dead and buried, but they could not have been more mistaken.