Chapter Text
Arc 1: Waking With Pink Hair
The fluorescent lights of the Mini-Stop hummed with a low, electric buzz that felt like it was vibrating inside Natsuki Subaru’s skull.
It was late enough that the only other person in the store was a clerk who looked like he was vibrating on the same frequency of exhaustion.
Subaru adjusted the collar of his signature orange and black tracksuit, leaning his hip against the magazine rack. In his hands was the latest volume of a generic fantasy manga, the kind where the protagonist gets whisked away to a land of magic and actually manages to do something with his life.
"Must be nice," Subaru muttered under his breath, his eyes tracing the ink lines of a hero slaying a dragon.
He closed the book with a soft thud and tucked it back into its slot. He hadn't come here for a life-changing adventure, he’d come for a cup of instant ramen and a bag of corn snacks.
His fingers felt cold against the plastic packaging as he made his way to the counter. The transaction was silent, a practiced dance of coins and plastic bags that required no eye contact and even less soul.
As the automatic doors hissed open, Subaru stepped out into the crisp night air of modern-day Japan. The street was empty, illuminated only by the sickly yellow glow of a distant streetlight. He took a deep breath, the cold air stinging his lungs, and began to walk toward the crosswalk.
He was thinking about his high score in the game he’d left paused at home. He was thinking about how tomorrow would be exactly like today.
Then, the world tilted.
It wasn't a slow stumble. It was as if the very concept of "up" had been deleted from his brain. Subaru’s knees buckled first, but before his hands could even rise to break the fall, he felt a crushing, invisible weight slam into his chest.
Thwack.
His back hit the pavement with a sickening, hollow sound. The plastic bag from the store skittered away, the corn snacks rolling across the asphalt.
He couldn’t gasp or reach out for help. All Subaru could do was stare at the urban sky above, unmoving, silent.
The reflection of the Mini-Stop sign flickered in his pupils, but there was no movement in them. The fierce, slightly arrogant spark that usually defined Natsuki Subaru had vanished into something of a void. His eyes remained wide open, fixed and glassy, staring into nothing.
On that quiet, lonely street, his body lay perfectly still… As if he were a shell left behind on the cold pavement, eyes lifeless and devoid of even a flicker of light.
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To him, there was a hint of agony in the transition. A crawl out of a deep, viscous oil that pushed every instinct within him to scream about something being wrong.
One moment, Natsuki Subaru was staring at a flickering convenience store sign with eyes that had forgotten how to blink; the next, he was conscious of a sensation so alien it made his skin crawl.
“What’s going on? This feels so… So weird…”
He was warm. Too warm.
“It doesn’t feel like asphalt from the street… Why did I fall?”
He cursed the late-night game sessions that had left him mentally exhausted. The soft feeling of the surface beneath his body managed to unsettle him within his void.
“Shit! I’m in the middle of the street for fuck’s sake… Need to get the hell up before some creep turns me over.”
Though his thoughts were too flattering about his own behind, Subaru tried to bolt upright, the instinct of a man who realized he had fallen in the middle of a road kicking in.
But his body betrayed him. Instead of the sharp, explosive movement of a teenage boy, his limbs felt like they were made of lead-weighted porcelain.
“Whoah… My imagination is cruel, but I thought my arms gained more muscle within them for a second there. Probably my exhaustion and fatigue… I need to work out more.”
Subaru opened his eyes slowly, finally figuring out the muscle controls he needed to do so.
A sharp, localized throb pulsed behind his forehead, and a curtain of vibrant, rose-pink silk bisected his usually clear vision.
Wait. Pink?
“Pink?... What…”
He reached up to brush the hair out of his eyes, but the hand that moved wasn't his.
It was small. The fingers were slender, the skin pale and unblemished, the nails trimmed to a perfect, practical length.
He stared at the hand in the dim morning light filtering through a nearby window. This wasn't the hand of a shut-in gamer who spent his nights punching buttons.
This was the hand of a doll.
"What the...?"
The voice that came out of his throat—or rather, the throat he was currently occupying—sent a jolt of pure electricity through his spine.
It wasn't the cracking, somewhat nasally baritone of Natsuki Subaru. It was high-pitched, melodic, and possessed a natural, razor-sharp edge that felt like it could cut glass.
It was the voice of a girl.
There was a need for him to take a second more. Not even a slight instant after he’d heard the voice coming out of his throat. Before panic, cold and sharp, flooded his chest.
He scrambled out of the bed, his legs tangling in heavy linen sheets. As his feet hit the wooden floor, his center of gravity shifted in a way that made his head spin.
He felt lighter, yet infinitely more fragile. There was a strange weight on his chest that shouldn't be there and a terrifyingly airy sensation around his lower half.
He caught his reflection in a polished copper basin standing on a wash table.
Subaru froze.
The face staring back at him was hauntingly beautiful, framed by a short bob-cut of pink hair. He noticed that the color of his eyes didn’t change, though the orbs that stared back at him with equal shock were definitely not the normal sharp ones he’s grown up with.
"I'm... I'm a girl?" Subaru gasped, his hands flying to his face. He felt the soft cheeks, the small nose, the delicate jawline.
He looked down to his clothing, realizing that he was wearing stockings and a dress that impressed even the most expensive cosplay shops back in Japan. "I'm a maid? No, no, no!”
Holding on to his baby-soft cheek, Subaru glared at the basin with more panic and desperation in his voice. “This is a dream… It must be… A crazy dream about a cliché trope because I hit my head too hard… Yeah…”
He attempted to calm his racing heart by taking a deep breath, but instead, he collided with a fact. His inability to breathe deeper than necessary. Deep in the center of his chest, where he expected to feel the steady thrum of life, there was a hollow, aching void.
It felt as though a vital organ had been surgically removed, leaving behind a raw, sensitive wound that bled exhaustion into his very marrow.
Every movement felt like he was dragging his soul through wet sand. He felt "drained," as if he were a battery holding a one-percent charge, struggling just to keep the screen from going black.
"Why does it hurt to just... exist? The hell…" he wheezed, leaning heavily against the wash table. The wood groaned under his slight weight.
He looked at the top of his head in the reflection, searching for something he couldn't name.
A ghost of a sensation lingered there—a phantom limb of sorts. He felt like something should be protruding from his forehead, a point of power or connection, but there was only smooth skin and the dull, throbbing ache of its absence.
“What the hell? Whatthehellwhathehellwhatthehell…?!!?”
He kept touching his forehead, trying to feel for the missing thing that wouldn't come out. “FUCK! IT’S SO ANNOYING!”
Subaru’s eyes looked around the room, trying to release his frustration by focusing on more of the environment.
“If this is a dream… I will never forgive Buddha…” He whispered in a voice that wasn’t his own, but the girl’s voice actually made him sound more threatening and spiteful. “I can’t stay here… I need to find a way… Out of this dream?”
Now in the body not his own, without a clear vision of his own reality… Subaru began the slow process of walking.
Each step was a battle. The skirt of the maid’s outfit swished against his legs, a constant, mocking reminder of his current predicament.
His delicate and soft hand fumbled with the latch, his small hands trembling, and finally swung the door open to a narrow wooden hallway that smelled of pine resin and roasting meat.
“Is this a hotel of sorts…? I… What a weird dream… This girl’s body sucks to move in…”
He made his way toward the stairs, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. By the time he reached the top of the staircase, he was already sweating.
The physical fatigue was unlike anything he’d ever known.
“I wish I can say that this body hasn’t worked out for a long time… But it feels like I have no energy to do anything…” Subaru bit the soft lips he was occupying as he looked down at the dreadful journey ahead of him.
He descended the stairs, gripping the railing tightly. Once his tiny maid shoes touched upon the last step, he’d made a celebration with his fist. Looking around, he noticed a reception area of sorts that smelled like smoked wood.
Behind a heavy oak counter sat the innkeeper—a burly man with a face like a slapped ham and eyes that looked like they hadn't seen a kind deed in forty years. He was polishing a wooden mug with a rag that looked dirtier than the floor.
"Excuse me," Subaru called out. His voice came out as a sharp, commanding trill despite his exhaustion. "Hey! Sir! I need... I need to know where I am! And who... who brought me here?"
“This dream has some good realistic graphics… But just in case… I need to learn whatever I can…”
The innkeeper didn't look up at first. He let out a low, guttural grunt and continued his scrubbing. When he finally did raise his head, his gaze was flat and poisoned with irritation.
The man glared at the petite, pink-haired girl standing at the base of his stairs as if she were a particularly persistent cockroach.
"Oh, look who decided to join the living," the innkeeper spat, his voice a gravelly rumble. "Took you long enough, girlie."
Subaru blinked, taken aback by the sheer vitriol in the man's tone. "I... I was sleeping. I just woke up and—"
"Sleeping?" The innkeeper slammed the mug onto the counter. "You were dead to the world! Sleeping on the job is what I call it. Your 'lady' was none too pleased, though she’s got a softer heart than I do. If it were my coin you were wasting, I’d have kicked you into the gutter an hour after sunrise."
Subaru’s mind raced. “What does he mean? My… lady?”
"Where is she?" Subaru asked, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and the weird, inherent dignity that seemed to live in this body's vocal cords. "The lady I was with?"
The innkeeper scoffed, turning back to his shelves. "Gone, obviously. The silver-haired half-elf? She waited as long as she could, lookin' all worried and fidgety. But she had business at the capital. Left hours ago while you were busy drooling on the linens. Said if you woke up, you were to stay put, but I don't run a charity. You’ve got until noon to clear out unless you’ve got more silver."
Silver-haired half-elf. The description sent a strange, distant ripple through Subaru’s borrowed mind. He didn't know the name, but the image that flickered in his head was one of ethereal beauty and a sadness that felt familiar, even if he didn't know why.
He stood there, a petite maid in a foreign world, feeling the crushing weight of a missing horn and a missing life. Not that he would know anything about what he was missing or what the responsibilities placed on his shoulders were.
The point was, he was alone, he was in the wrong body, and the only person who seemed to know him had walked away into a world he didn't understand.
Subaru gripped the edge of his skirt, his knuckles white. The fatigue threatened to pull him down to the floor, but he forced his chin up.
“What a shitty start to a dream adventure… Or worse… A shitty start to my life in another world…”
"The lady," he whispered, the sharp voice of the lady he occupied echoing in the empty common room. "Which way did she go exactly?"
The innkeeper just pointed a meaty finger toward the door without looking back. "East. Follow the main road. And try not to collapse in the mud, you'll ruin the dress, and I doubt your lady wants to buy you another one."
Subaru turned toward the door, the sunlight outside looking blindingly bright.
“Ah shit…” He said the words out loud with the feminine voice he’d occupied.
The innkeeper, still perceiving him as a lazy worker slacking off, snorted with distaste.
The world outside the inn was too loud, too bright, and far too vast.
“It… might not be a dream after all…”
As Subaru stepped onto the main thoroughfare of the Royal Capital, Lugunica, the sheer scale of the fantasy setting hit him like a physical blow.
It was everything he had ever read about in his manga, everything he had spent countless nights dreaming of while staring at his bedroom ceiling.
“Giant reptile people… Dinosaurs… Is that a person with a tail? Multiple people with tails actually holy shi—”
He saw a man with the head of a wolf haggling over a crate of shimmering blue fabric. A group of lizardmen in leather armor strode past him, their tails swaying in a synchronized rhythm that cleared a path through the crowd.
Small, cat-like children darted between the legs of giants. It was a kaleidoscope of biological impossibility, and for a fleeting second, the "gamer" heart in Subaru’s chest skipped a beat with genuine, unadulterated awe.
“I’m actually here. I’m in a fantasy world… I’m in a starting town, no less!”
Then, a wave of dizziness washed over him, and the awe was instantly replaced by a cold, grinding reality.
His legs gave way, and he had to lurch toward a stone pillar to keep from face-planting into the dirt. His breath came in shallow, panicked spurts.
The "drained" feeling he had felt in the room hadn't gone away; if anything, the sensory overload of the capital was making it worse. It felt as though the very air was thick with a substance he couldn't breathe… a shimmering pressure that made his skin itch and his head throb.
"Dammit..." he hissed, his voice still that sharp, feminine melody. "Why is this body so... so useless?"
He looked down at himself, trying to adjust the maid outfit. It was an engineering nightmare.
The fabric was heavy, the corset-like bodice restricted his lungs, and the lack of pants was a psychological trauma he wasn't prepared to handle.
Every time a gust of wind kicked up, he felt a draft that made him want to shrivel into a ball and die of embarrassment.
And then there was the center of gravity. He was used to being a teenage boy with broad shoulders and a certain lanky stability.
Now, he was barely five feet tall. His hips felt wider, his steps felt shorter, and he felt top-heavy in a way that made every cobblestone feel like a deliberate attempt to trip him.
"Hey there, little blossom! You look a bit lost!"
The voice was oily. Subaru looked up to see a merchant leaning over a stall of various fruits. The man was grinning, but it wasn't the friendly "welcome to my shop" grin.
It was a look that scanned him from the pink hair down to the white lace of the hem, lingering far too long on the way the maid outfit hugged the curves of a body that Subaru still didn't feel belonged to him.
"I'm not lost," Subaru snapped, trying to channel his usual bravado. "I'm looking for someone. A silver-haired girl."
The merchant chuckled, leaning further over the counter. "A silver-haired girl, eh? Big city for that. Why don't you come back here and rest those pretty legs for a bit? I’ve got some sweet 'appas' that’ll put the color back in your cheeks. A girl as fine as you shouldn't be wandering the slums alone."
Subaru felt a heat rise to his face that had nothing to do with the sun. It was a toxic mixture of "shut-in" defensiveness and a new, sharp spike of vulnerability.
In his old life, he was a social pariah, sure, but he was a guy. If someone gave him trouble, he could at least imagine a scenario where he fought back. Here, standing in the shadow of this burly merchant, he felt like a kitten facing a bulldog.
"I said I'm fine," Subaru growled, though it sounded more like a frustrated chirp. He turned on his heel, or at least he tried to, nearly twisting his ankle in the process.
As he pushed through the crowd, he realized the merchant wasn't an isolated incident. Eyes followed him. Men—human and demihuman alike—watched his every move. He heard whistles, muffled comments about "the master of that mansion must be lucky," and several more invitations to "rest" or "share a drink."
It was infuriating. It was degrading. He wanted to scream at them that he was a seventeen-year-old dude who could probably out-squat all of them, but the words would only come out in that delicate, porcelain voice.
He felt like a piece of decorative jewelry being appraised by a crowd of thieves.
“I hate this. I hate this world already,” he thought, his eyes stinging. “Where is the 'hero' part? Where’s the sword? Why am I the one who needs protecting?”
He kept walking, driven by a strange, magnetic pull.
He didn't know the geography of Lugunica. He didn't have a map. But every time he reached an intersection, a faint, ghostly sensation tugged at the base of his skull.
It was like a silken thread tied to his very soul, pulling him toward the north, toward the more affluent districts where the spires grew taller and the air grew cleaner.
The fatigue was becoming a monster. Each step felt like his bones were made of dry sponge, soaking up lead. His vision started to blur at the edges, the vibrant colors of the market bleeding into a muddy gray.
“I have to find her,” he told himself, his mind looping the image of the silver-haired girl the innkeeper had mentioned. “If I find whoever was with the original owner of this body, then I’ll be able to understand what’s going on better… Who this girl was supposed to be and how I can get her back into her body… Hope she isn’t in my body back home or something…”
He passed a large plumbing fixture, a fountain where clear water bubbled from the mouth of a stone dragon.
“Finally…” He stopped, gasping for air, and dipped his small hands into the basin. The water was icy and refreshing. He splashed his face, the droplets clinging to his pink bangs.
Looking into the reflection of the water, he saw ‘the girl’ again. But this time, he noticed something in the eyes. Even through the exhaustion, there was a residual sharpness there… a lingering echo of the woman who usually occupied this skin.
The girl wasn't just a maid… There was a pride in the set of her shoulders that Subaru was currently failing to maintain.
"Get it together, Natsuki Subaru," he whispered to the reflection. "You’re a man. You’ve survived gym class with a fever. You’ve finished legendary raids on two hours of sleep. You can walk a few blocks in a skirt."
“Especially when you look this pretty…” It was embarrassing, but he had to admit that to himself in his head.
He stood up, wiping his hands on the white apron. He ignored the catcall from a passing carriage driver and focused entirely on that "pull."
"I can't... I can't stay on the main road," he whispered, his voice cracking. The stares from the merchants were becoming unbearable.
He felt like a piece of meat in a lion's den. Every whistle and lecherous grin from a passerby felt like a physical weight pressing down on his shoulders, making the maid outfit feel less like clothes and more like a target painted on his back.
Spotting a narrow gap between two high-rise stone buildings, Subaru ducked inside. It was a shortcut—or so he told himself. In reality, he just wanted to be invisible.
The alley was damp and smelled of old rain and discarded crates. The noise of the market faded into a dull, distant roar.
For a moment, Subaru leaned against the wall, closing his eyes. His chest still felt hollow, that drained sensation throbbing like a phantom toothache, but he forced himself to move.
He hadn't gone twenty paces before three shadows detached themselves from the gloom.
"Well, well. Look at what the wind blew in."
Subaru froze. Standing at the exit of the alley were three men. One was massive, with arms like tree trunks (Ton); one was short and wiry with a sneering, rat-like face (Chin); and the third was a lanky youth with a bored expression and a hand resting on a rusted dagger (Kan).
"I don't have any money," Subaru said, his voice coming out sharper than he intended. He tried to puff out his chest, but in this body, it didn't have the ‘tough guy’ effect he was aiming for. It just made the lace on his bodice flutter.
"Money?" The massive one, Ton, let out a low, rumbling laugh. He stepped forward, his shadow swallowing Subaru whole. "A little thing like you, dressed like that? You’re worth way more than the copper in your pockets."
Subaru’s heart hammered a frantic rhythm. "Back off. I'm serious. I’m... I’m not who you think I am."
"We know exactly what you are," Chin sneered, circling around to block the path back to the street. "You’re a maid who lost her master. A stray. And strays belong to whoever catches 'em."
Before Subaru could move, Ton’s hand shot out. It was a slow, clumsy move by any standard, but in this exhausted state, Subaru couldn't find his footing. The giant man grabbed him by the front of his maid's uniform and slammed him backward.
Thud.
Subaru’s head hit the stone wall. The world spun. Suddenly, he was pinned. Ton’s massive forearm was pressed against his collarbone, pinning him to the cold masonry. The man’s breath, smelling of sour ale and rot, washed over his face.
For the first time in his life, Natsuki Subaru felt a terror that was worse than anything resembling his own death.
“Please… No…” He begged within his own mind.
It was a visceral, gendered horror, the realization of being physically smaller, weaker, and utterly at the mercy of someone who viewed him as an object.
His shut-in strength, the thousands of grips and squats he’d performed in his room to feel alpha, meant nothing. He was a five-foot-tall girl with a missing power source, trapped against a wall by a man three times his mass.
"Let... go..." he wheezed, his hands fruitlessly pushing against Ton’s arm. His fingers felt like toothpicks against a log.
"Keep struggling," Kan said from the shadows, his voice chillingly clinical. "It makes the price go up if you've got some fire in you."
Chin reached out, his dirty fingers grazing the pink hair of Subaru’s bangs. "Pretty thing. Wonder what the master of the mansion would pay to get his favorite toy back? Or maybe we just keep her for a few days first..."
“I can’t breathe… I can’t…”
The degradation of the moment hit Subaru like a wave of nausea. He felt the cold stone through his thin dress, the heat of Ton’s body pressing into his, and the sheer, humiliating powerlessness of the situation. Tears of rage and fear pricked his eyes.
He wasn't a hero.
He wasn't a protagonist.
He was a victim.
“Please... somebody... help me…”
The thought flickered in his mind for a split second before another voice drowned it out.
It only took him a moment before he realized that it wasn’t a voice he’d heard, but a sensation, a cold, crystalline memory etched into the very cells of the body he was wearing.
Weak.
The word echoed in his mind… A feeling of complete disdain and dispassion that overcame him. And it wasn’t aiming towards the thugs… More so aiming toward him.
The drained feeling in his chest shifted unnaturally. As if it didn’t want to leave him, but it still cooperated enough to show him something deep within.
The hollow void began to draw in the air around him. Turning the entire alleyway into a frigid palace of tension and uncontrolled wind.
Subaru felt his vision sharpen. The slow, sluggish movements of the thugs suddenly looked like they were trapped in molasses. He felt a tingle in his fingertips, a pressurized static that screamed for release.
Ton leaned in closer, his grin widening. "Don't cry, little girl. We'll be—"
He never finished the sentence.
Though he never in his dreams commanded his body to move like this, even though he never decided at this moment to move his body this way… Subaru had realized something crucial.
“This girl’s body… She…” Subaru couldn’t continue as he found that the girl’s body began reacting to the threat on its own without needing a command from Subaru.
With a movement so fast it was invisible to the naked eye, Subaru’s right hand shot up, not to push, but to strike. He drove the palm of his small hand into the underside of Ton’s jaw.
The sound of teeth slamming together was like a gunshot.
The giant man’s head snapped back, his eyes rolling into his skull as his grip loosened.
Subaru was a passenger in a lethal machine… Because even though he really wanted to… His body couldn’t stop… He wouldn’t allow himself to stop it either.
And so, he ducked under Ton’s falling weight, his skirt snapping like a whip. He pivoted on one foot, his center of gravity, which had been feeling so wrong a few moments ago, now feeling like the perfect axis of a cyclone.
"What the—!" Chin started, reaching for his belt.
Subaru was already there. And to his increasing awe, it felt easier to use a chop that carried the weight of a body far more disciplined than his own. It was far more effective than his fist, though he loathed to admit it.
He hit Chin across the throat. The thug collapsed, clutching his neck and making a sound like a dying teakettle.
Kan, the skinny one, panicked. He drew his rusted dagger and lunged. "You little bitch!"
Subaru felt a surge of something cold and sharp in his mind. Fura.
He didn't know what the word meant, but he felt it. He swung his arm in a wide arc, and the air itself seemed to solidify into a blade.
A vacuum-like pressure erupted from his palm. A gust of wind, sharp as a razor and invisible to the eye, slammed into Kan’s chest.
The lanky youth was lifted off his feet and hurled backward, crashing into a stack of wooden crates with enough force to splinter the oak. He fell into the dirt, unconscious before he even hit the ground.
Silence returned to the alley, broken only by the ragged, high-pitched gasps of Subaru’s breathing.
Ton was groaning in the dirt, his jaw likely shattered. Chin was weeping, curled in a fetal ball. The menacing threat of moments ago had been dismantled in less than five seconds by a petite girl who looked like she belonged in a tea parlor.
“Take that, you jackass…” Subaru lost his smugness even within his own mind as he looked around.
He stood in the center of the carnage… His hands trembled as he looked down at them… those small, pale hands.
“Like weapons…”
The adrenaline began to ebb, and the drained feeling returned ten-fold. His knees shook, and he nearly collapsed next to the men he had just beaten.
Before another moment wasted, he scrambled away from them, his heart a frantic, wounded bird in his chest. He stumbled out of the alley and back into the marketplace, his eyes wide and wild.
He found a quiet corner near a fountain and sank to the ground, his back against a stone planter. He was hyperventilating.
The trauma of the encounter… the feeling of being pinned, the predatory looks, the sheer terror of being viewed as nothing more than a body… It hit him all at once.
“This shit isn’t like in the western movies or TV shows…” Subaru thought, gritting his teeth as he began the process of stopping his trembling.
"I... I almost..." he whispered, hugging his knees to his chest. He felt dirty. He felt exposed. The maid outfit, which had been a joke an hour ago, now felt like a curse.
The boy stuck in a maid’s body couldn’t come to terms with his situation at all. As if the whole world could tumble over his head before he can stop shivering on the ground.
He couldn’t even notice what was happening around him from the constrained feeling in his chest.
“This maid outfit is like a damn curse… Why would this girl even put it on if it brings this type of bullshit into her life?!?!?!” Subaru’s thoughts turned bitter as his fingers tightened.
The shadow fell over him slowly.
Subaru did his best not to look up because he didn't know what to expect next.
Maybe it will be another merchant, another catcall, another threat.
He squeezed his eyes shut, his small hands curling into fists.
"You look as though you've seen a ghost… or perhaps created one knowing you," a voice said.
It was a man's voice… smooth, cultured, and carrying a strange, sing-song cadence that felt both comforting and deeply unsettling.
Subaru slowly raised his head.
Standing over him was a man with a helmet on his head, blessed with a red feather that stayed unnaturally still above the armor.
The man was missing an arm, which was immediately noticed by Subaru since he was already assessing if this man was a threat… especially after what had happened to him.
The metal of the man's helmet caught the light, casting a distorted, elongated shadow over Subaru’s curled-up form. Subaru stayed frozen, his small hands still trembling against the fabric of his white apron. His heart felt like a trapped bird, frantic and bruised, beating against a ribcage that felt too narrow, too delicate for the sheer volume of his panic.
"R-Rem?" the man asked, though there was a note of uncertainty in his sing-song cadence. "Didn’t expect ya to be alive…"
Subaru blinked, his breath hitching. Rem? The name sounded like a sound coming out of bells chiming in the distance.
“How can I even correct him?... I can’t do that… So the girl’s name was Rem?” If he opened his mouth to explain that he was actually a seventeen-year-old shut-in from Japan named Natsuki Subaru, he’d probably be thrown into a psychiatric ward… or whatever the fantasy equivalent was.
“A dungeon probably… Damn this Rem and her body…” Subaru thought again, with his mouth showing a frown.
“Woah… Didn’t mean to cause such a nasty look on ya, lady… Though I’ve had worse from my princess." The man chuckled softly under his helm.
Subaru swallowed hard, his throat clicking. "I... I'm looking for someone," he croaked. The melodic, sharp voice of the pink-haired girl felt like a lie every time it vibrated in his chest. "A silver-haired girl?... A half-elf?"
The man in the helmet tilted his head. The movement was slow, almost mechanical. "The half-elf, huh? You’re a long way from the mansion to be playing hide-and-seek in the dirt, Missy. Especially looking like you just crawled out of a blender. You okay? You’re shaking like a leaf in a gale."
"I'm fine," Subaru snapped, the girl’s side of the body’s temperament flaring up reflexively. He tried to stand, but his legs were still made of wet paper. He stumbled, his hand catching the rough stone of the planter. "I just... I need to find her. The innkeeper said she went east."
The armored man sighed, a metallic sound that echoed inside his helmet. He reached out with his one remaining hand, a calloused, scarred hand as if to offer help, then seemed to think better of it and pulled back.
"East is the palace, missy. But if she’s the one I’m thinking of, and if she’s lost something as important as I hear she has... she wouldn't be at the palace. She’d be heading for the holes where things go to disappear."
Subaru looked up, his eyes wide. "What do you mean?"
"The slums," the man replied. "The gutter of Lugunica. If a thief took something from a lady like that, they aren't going to go sell it at the high-end jewelry shops. They're going to the Loot House."
Subaru felt a chill that had nothing to do with the wind. The slums. He looked at his pale, manicured hands. He looked at the lace on his sleeves. He looked like a target. A neon sign that screamed 'Rob Me.'
"Listen, dude," Subaru said, his frustration finally boiling over his fear. "I don't know who 'Rem' is. I don't know why I'm in this dress. I don't even know why my head feels like it's being squeezed by a giant invisible hand. I just need to find that girl because she’s the only lead I have to... to anything! This whole 'fantasy world' thing is supposed to have a tutorial, right? Where’s the NPC with the quest marker?!"
The silence that followed was heavy.
The man in the helmet didn't move. He didn't laugh. He didn't even tilt his head. He just stood there, the red feather on his helmet perfectly still.
"...Dude?" the man whispered. The word sounded alien in his mouth, yet he spoke it with a reverence that made Subaru’s blood run cold. "Tutorial? NPC? Quest marker?"
Subaru froze. He realized too late what he’d said. He’d used the language of his home. The slang of a world that didn't have lizardmen or dragons.
The man’s posture shifted. The casual, lazy slouch vanished, replaced by a rigid, electric tension. He stepped closer, his shadow pinning Subaru against the fountain.
"What did you just say, missy?" the man asked, his voice low and vibrating with a sudden, sharp intensity. "Say those words again."
Subaru felt a lump in his throat. "I... I said quest marker. And tutorial. And... and dude."
The man reached up with his one hand and gripped the side of his helmet, as if he were tempted to rip it off right there in the middle of the street. He let out a long, ragged breath that sounded like a prayer.
"No way," the man muttered. "No freaking way. You... you're a compatriot? But you're... you're a maid. You're the oni girl… This girl shouldn’t even be alive... How can you be..."
Subaru’s tears filled up the eyes that were not his own. He couldn’t see from the blurry vision, but his focus was fully upon the confused man standing above him. It was like a lifeline given to him while he was drowning.
"I'm a guy!" Subaru blurted out, his voice cracking into a high-pitched sob. "My name is Natsuki Subaru! I was just at the Mini-Stop! I was buying ramen! I blinked, and now I'm a four-foot-eleven maid with pink hair and no... no energy! I don't know what or who Rem is… Who she used to be I…
He looked down at his hands, her hands, still trembling and shaking from the leftover adrenaline. “I don't know why I can kill people with my bare hands, and I really, really want to go home!"
He broke down then, his face buried in those small, delicate hands.
The sheer absurdity of it, the trauma of the alleyway, the physical pain of the hollow feeling in his chest… It all poured out of him in a messy, undignified heap.
The armored man cursed under his breath. It was a string of Japanese profanities that Subaru recognized instantly.
"Shit... shit, shit, shit," Al hissed. He looked around the marketplace, checking to see if anyone was watching. "Of all the luck. Of all the twisted, cosmic jokes. I finally meet another one of us, and he's been shoved into the body of the world's most dangerous maid."
“So this world has other people from my world… This really wasn’t a dream after all…"
Al knelt down and placed his hand on Subaru’s shoulder. It was heavy and grounding.
"Listen to me… Natsuki Subaru, you said? Yeah?" Al said, his voice dropping the sing-song act. "My name is Al. I've been here a long time. Longer than you want to know. And if you're in that body... if you're Rem right now... then destiny is already breathing down your neck, and she’s got really bad breath, Pal."
Subaru looked up through tear-blurred eyes. "You... you're from Japan too?"
"A long time ago," Al said, his helmet reflecting Subaru’s miserable face. "Look, we don't have time for the 'welcome to the neighborhood' chat. If you're looking for the silver-haired girl… the half-elf. Her name is Emilia. And if she’s following the trail of her stolen insignia, she’s heading straight for the slums. Specifically, the Loot House at the far end of the district."
"Is she in danger?" Subaru asked, wiping his nose with his sleeve, then winced at the realization that he was ruining an expensive-looking maid uniform.
"In that district? Everyone is in danger," Al said. He stood up, his armor clanking. "But you... you just took down three thugs in five seconds, didn't you? I saw the end of it.”
“Y-Yeah… They uh… They tried to…” Subaru’s breathing hitched as he unconsciously sniffled. “Sorry Um…”
Al seemed to understand what the meaning of Subaru’s behavior was almost immediately, evidenced by the helmet echoing the curse he’d let loose out of his lips.
“Listen… I’m sorry for what happened… It must have been so horrible, yeah?” Al’s voice took a softer tone as he squeezed Subaru’s… Rem’s, shoulder…
“I handled it…” Subaru shook his hand off, not wanting the sickening feeling of allowing other people to touch this body linger any longer. “I… Didn’t let them hurt this girl’s body.”
“That wasn't you, Pal. That was the body you’re in. That was the Oni blood. You’ve got power, but you don't have the 'experience' to back it up… What was that about a drained feeling?"
“Listen… I… I don’t know anything about this place… I know you seem to know who this girl was and how to get to the half-elf… Please…” Subaru didn’t feel like he was allowed to beg using the face he was in. The girl felt more dignified than this…
“Of course I’d force such elegance to drop down to my level… Buddha kill me…”
Al looked toward the northern spires, his posture tightening. "I should stay. I should help you. But I’ve got my own master to answer to, and she doesn't like to wait. If she finds out I'm helping a 'stray,' she'll have my head… literally."
Subaru couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering towards the man’s missing arm… Glints of thought showing in his irises.
“Don’t worry, my princess hasn’t found a reason to do this to me… yet,” Al chuckled, waving the stump that used to be his hand around.
With his other hand, he reached into a pouch at his belt and tossed a small, heavy bag to Subaru. It clinked with the sound of metal.
"That's some silver. Use it to buy a map, or a knife, or a goddamn pair of pants if you can find them," Al said, pointing Subaru outward from the marketplace of the capital.
"Go to the slums. Find the girl. If you're lucky, you'll find the thief before she reaches the loot house. Her name is Felt. Golden hair and red eyes... uh... I think she should be a kid at this point in time."
Subaru clutched the bag of coins. "Al, wait! Don't leave! I don't know what I'm doing!"
"Nobody does, Pal!" Al shouted back as he began to walk away into the crowd. "That’s the secret of this world! Just keep moving! If you stop, the world eats you! Find the girl! Find the insignia! And for God's sake, try not to get blood on the dress!"
And just like that, he was gone. The red feather vanished into the sea of lizardmen and merchants, leaving Subaru alone once again in a world of giants.
Subaru stood up, his legs still shaky, but the hollow void in his chest felt a little less cold. He had a name. Emilia. He had a destination. The Slums. And he had a purpose.
He turned toward the south, where the buildings grew shorter, the stone grew grayer, and the air began to smell of desperation.
Subaru clutched the heavy pouch of silver coins until his knuckles turned as pale as the porcelain skin of the body he now inhabited.
Every breath he took felt like he was pulling air through a thick layer of wet wool because the void in his chest continued to throb with a rhythmic hunger.
He moved away from the main marketplace with a staggered gait that eventually smoothed into a cautious walk.
“I can’t believe he just left me there… I… What the hell is wrong with that guy?” Subaru muttered in the voice of the girl. His eyes felt frustrated due to the pink bang that kept falling in front of his eye.
The memory of the alleyway hung over his mind like a suffocating shroud, and every glance from a passing merchant felt like a physical touch on his skin.
“Stop looking at me, goddamn it…” He could still feel the phantom pressure of the giant man's arm against his collarbone.
It made his stomach churn with a toxic mixture of rage and vulnerability that he had never known in his life back in Japan.
He spotted a small shop at the edge of the merchant district where tattered fabrics and old traveling gear hung from rusted iron hooks. Immediately, Subaru was interested in the shop, remembering the coin given to him by Al.
“At least I should use this to my advantage… He did leave it for me after all," he muttered openly, feeling more at ease with the feminine voice that came out of his lips.
The shopkeeper was a wizened man with a glass eye that seemed to track Subaru's movement with a disturbing stillness.
Realizing he was being watched… all the comfort he felt with his new body dissipated. Subaru didn't speak at first because he was afraid his melodic voice would tremble and betray the terror bubbling in his throat.
He pointed a slender finger at a simple hooded cape of dark grey wool that looked thick enough to hide the flamboyant lace of the maid uniform.
The shopkeeper grunted and held up three fingers to signify the price in copper or silver. He didn’t speak to Subaru, which was appreciated. The man seemed to understand a lot more about seeing the expression on Subaru’s girl face than a simple merchant should.
His hand reached into the pouch Al had given him and pulled out a single silver coin. He dropped it onto the wooden counter and grabbed the cloak before the man could even offer him change.
“The coins in this world look artistic… Guess medieval times have more passion in their currencies.”
He draped the grey fabric over his shoulders and pulled the hood deep over his pink bangs until his face was cast in deep shadow.
The weight of the cloak provided a small measure of comfort as if he were wrapping himself in a shield. He felt a little less like a piece of jewelry on display and more like a ghost moving through the bustling crowds.
“Th-Thanks…” Subaru allowed himself the courage to say this to the man. Only to receive a grunt and a nod in response.
He turned his steps toward the south, where the air began to change from the scent of spices and livestock to the stench of rotting wood and stagnant water.
The transition into the slums was a slow decay of architecture and hope. The stone buildings of the capital gave way to structures made of mismatched timber and rusted metal sheets.
“I feel like this place is the dying edge of a beautiful painting where there was no more colors in the house to continue… Wow… Am I a poet?”
Subaru noticed that the people here looked at him differently than the merchants in the city center. They didn't look at him with lecherous grins or curiosity, but instead they watched him with the flat eyes of predators or the hollow stares of the dying.
He felt the weight of their gaze on his back, and his skin crawled with the urge to run. Every shadow between the dilapidated shacks looked like the mouth of a cave where more thugs might be waiting to pin him down.
His mind flashed back to the way his hand had moved in the alley. It had been a blur of lethal efficiency that he didn't recognize as his own.
He looked down at his small hands hidden beneath the grey wool, and he wondered how much of his own soul was actually in control.
The girl named Rem was supposed to be a maid, but she was clearly something far more dangerous. He felt like a pilot sitting in the cockpit of a fighter jet without a manual. He knew the buttons could destroy worlds, but he was just trying not to crash.
“And that air I used back then… Was it magic?” Subaru stopped for a second and tried to do the same hand movement as back in the alleyway.
“Nothing… Hm…” He muttered while unclenching the small hand of the girl he occupied. “Wish I asked Al about magic and stuff… Shit… I should’ve asked for way more information… What a weirdo that guy was.”
Subaru sighed, feeling the drained body he was within almost collapse at his moment of relaxation.
“Gotta keep going… See this half-elf… And how she got robbed somehow.”
He reached a small clearing where a group of children sat in the dirt playing with smooth stones. They were covered in soot, and their clothes were little more than rags tied together with twine.
Subaru stopped a few feet away, and the children went silent as they looked up at the hooded figure. One small girl with tangled brown hair squinted at him with a suspicious glare.
“I need to look less like a perverted politician…” Subaru realized he needed more information about where he was going and he wouldn’t be able to do that by looking off from the side lines.
He knelt down in the dirt, and the movement caused the grey cloak to shift.
The children caught a glimpse of the white apron underneath, and their eyes widened in surprise.
Subaru forced his voice to be soft even though it still carried that razor-sharp edge. “Excuse me, sorry to interrupt your game.” He looked at the small sticks and rocks the children were using and noticed the way they all huddled together in unconscious need to protect one another.
“Um… Do you know a girl named Felt? She’s supposed to have golden hair and red eyes?” The children exchanged looks of silent agreement, and they didn't say a word. They were used to people looking for Felt, and they knew that strangers in the slums usually brought trouble.
“Seems like the slums really is as cruel as it looks… These kids don’t even know want to talk.” Subaru realized that he needed to earn their trust or at least their interest.
Subaru knelt, the unfamiliar weight of the petticoats bunching uncomfortably around his knees. He ignored the dampness of the court floor and held up a hand, flashing a grin that he hoped didn't look as forced as it felt.
"Alright, listen up, scouts. I need a lead on that certain girl you guys don’t wanna snitch on, and in exchange, I’m willing to part with a secret technique from my far-off homeland. It’s a game of wits, strength, and high-stakes strategy! You interested?"
The children gathered in a loose semi-circle.
Subaru took pause as he noticed. Even though their faces smeared with the soot of the slums, the children seemed too curious of what Subaru was offering…
“It’s like these guys never met someone who just wants to play with them before…” His heart shattered at the thought.
A boy with a jagged haircut tilted his head. "A game? We don't got no coin to bet with, lady. And we definitely don't got no belongings to use for this.”
"That’s the beauty of it! You don't need anything to bet with because this is a game for fun! Especially when you’ve got these," Subaru said, shaking his fist. "It’s called 'Rock-Paper-Scissors.' Watch closely."
He moved with exaggerated, theatrical flair, his voice rising to mask the dull throb in his head.
"This is Rock," he said, clenching his fist. "Rock is tough. It smashes things. But then..." He flattened his palm. "Paper! Paper wraps the rock up and shuts it down. And then, the ultimate counter..." He snapped his index and middle fingers out. "Scissors. They snip the paper into confetti, but, and here’s the kicker, Rock crushes the scissors into junk. See? It’s a cycle of eternal combat!"
The children blinked, then slowly, the boy tried a hesitant 'rock' against Subaru’s 'paper.'
"Ha! Covered! My victory!" Subaru cheered.
Within minutes, the alley was no longer a silent, oppressive throat of shadows. It was filled with high-pitched shouting.
"Rock! I got rock!"
"No, I did scissors! You smashed me!"
Subaru laughed along with them, the sound feeling brittle but genuine.
For a second, the crushing weight of the morning, the blood, the confusion, the sheer impossibility of his situation he was stuck with… it all had receded.
He let a small girl with messy brown hair beat his 'scissors' three times in a row, watching her eyes go wide with triumph.
She stepped forward, her small hand brushing against the white lace of his apron. "You're a really kind lady," she whispered, her voice thick with awe. "Thank you for playing with us."
Subaru’s smile twitched. A hot spike of embarrassment flared in his chest.
“Lady??? I’m a guy! I’ve got a gym membership I barely use back home!” He wanted to scream and shout at the world, not necessarily at her specifically.
But looking at her hopeful face, the correction died in his throat. It would only make him look like a lunatic.
"Uh, yeah. Sure thing, kiddo," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "So, about that girl? The blonde… Felt? She’s someone who’s probably looking for trouble?"
The girl’s expression shifted, growing cautious. She pointed a dirty finger toward a cluster of buildings that looked more like a pile of architectural accidents than actual housing.
"Felt lives over there. In the rat nest near the old storehouse," the girl said. She leaned in closer, dropping her voice. "But you should be careful. Felt’s faster than a blink, and she doesn't like visitors. Especially not... well, pretty ladies from the high districts. She thinks they're all snobs."
"High districts? Me?" Subaru looked down at his frilled sleeves and sighed. "Right. Thanks for the heads-up."
He stood up, his knees popping with a loud crack that made him groan. His legs felt like they were made of wet sand, but he forced a wave to the kids and started trekking deeper into the gloom.
The ground turned slick with something that smelled like copper and rot. He kept his eyes up, navigating the 'rat nest' until he spotted her.
Perched atop a precarious stack of crates was a girl who looked like she’d been carved out of pure spite and sunlight.
Her blonde hair was a mess of short spikes, and her red eyes tracked his movement with the precision of a hawk.
She was tossing a heavy, glittering badge into the air, catching it with a rhythmic thwack in her palm.
The object in Felt's hand caught the dying light… a royal insignia, heavy gold filigree cradling a red jewel that glowed like a trapped ember.
“It’s… exactly what Al had described to me… How did the weirdo know?”
Subaru stepped into the center of the clearing, the maid shoes crunching on broken glass.
Felt’s head snapped toward him, her pupils constricting. With a fluid, practiced motion, she tucked the badge into a leather pouch at her waist and vaulted off the crates.
She landed light as a cat, a short, jagged knife already appearing in her hand.
"You look lost, sister," Felt said, a sharp, defiant smirk cutting across her face. "This isn't exactly the place for a Sunday stroll in our humble part of these slums.”
“She looks like she’s barely in grade school… What kind of life leads her to hold a blade like that?” He thought bitterly yet again of his own body and how tired he was, not knowing what to watch out for but not taking Felt that seriously.
“Tell you what, scram now, and maybe I won't decide to add that fancy cloak of yours to my collection. It’d fetch a nice price." Felt grins at him, leaning on her hip as she pointed the blade elsewhere.
It was clear she wasn’t taking Subaru seriously either, and it’s probably due to the exhausted look on Subaru’s face.
He wanted to gain more control over the body he was in, but the more he tried, the more alien he felt while manipulating facial features of another girl that didn’t ask for him to pilot her body.
"I don't care about the cloak," Subaru said. His voice was lower than it should have been, vibrating with a resonance that didn't match his petite frame. "And I'm not here for your life. Just give me the insignia. There’s a silver-haired girl who’s probably panicking right about now, and I’m the one who has to fix it."
“At least it’s what Al said…”
Felt let out a sharp, barking laugh. "A silver-haired girl? Sounds like a client problem, not a 'me' problem. Finders keepers is the only law that matters down here, Lace-wrap! If she wanted to keep it, she shouldn't have let it get lifted!"
She didn't wait for a rebuttal. Felt vanished… or that’s how it would have looked to anyone else.
To Subaru, her "burst of speed" looked like a fly struggling through honey. He could see every muscle tensing in her calves, the way her grip tightened on the hilt, and the exact trajectory of her lunge.
His body moved on its own. It wasn't a conscious decision…
“Woah… Reflexes of a tiger, damn…”
He stepped laterally, the hem of his skirt fluttering as the knife’s edge missed his ribs by an inch. In the same breath, he reached out and clamped his hand around Felt's wrist.
"What the—?" His fingers felt like iron bands.
Subaru twisted. He first grabbed her and then he steered her. With a single, brutal shove, he pinned her against a rotting wooden pillar, forcing her arm up behind her back. The knife clattered to the dirt, forgotten.
"Let go! You're gonna break it!" Felt shrieked, her face pressed against the damp wood.
Subaru leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. When he spoke, the sound carried a low, vibrating growl that seemed to rattle the very crates around them. "I’m out of patience, Felt. I’ve had the worst morning of my life, I’m wearing maid shoes in a gutter, and I am not leaving without that jewel. Do you understand me?"
The blonde thief stopped struggling. She looked back over her shoulder, and for the first time, she looked truly terrified. Like she wasn’t seeing Subaru for the feminine face he was in, but for something else entirely. Something nonhuman.
"Fine! Take it! Just... just don't snap my arm, okay?" she gasped, her voice trembling. "Gods, what are you?"
Subaru exhaled, the static in the air dissipating as he released his grip. Felt slumped forward, clutching her bruised wrist and breathing hard. She reached into her pouch, pulled out the insignia, and held it out with a shaking hand.
"How did you even know I had it?" she muttered, watching him tuck the cold metal into the bodice of his dress. He winced at the sensation but didn't have anywhere else to put it. "And how do you know who it belongs to? You aren't one of her guards."
"I’m just a guy having a very bad day," Subaru replied, rubbing his temples. "Where were you going to take this? Al mentioned a place called the 'loot house.'"
Felt blinked, her fear momentarily replaced by bewilderment. "Ah… You ain’t a guy though…”
Subaru’s heart broke a little hearing that again… And it seemed to show on his face because Felt began stuttering the conversation away from the topic.
“Ah… The loot house. I dunno why you’d wanna go there if ya just wanna give that thing back, but the person who’s been wanting it will meet me—”
"The girl it was stolen from is going to end up there," Subaru said firmly. "Take me there. Now."
“Al’s words seem to have been true so far… I better speed there to meet this half-elf and see what I can do about my situation.”
Felt bit her lip, her eyes darting toward her blade which was on the ground. Her thief’s brain was already weighing the risks against the potential profit.
"Alright, alright. I'll take you," she sighed, picking up her knife and sheathing it. "But if Old Man Rom tries to squash ya, don't expect me to jump in the middle. And keep that coin ready… consider it a 'tour guide' fee."
They moved through the labyrinth of the slums in silence. Subaru followed the small, blonde blur as she navigated alleys that shouldn't have existed.
The fatigue was starting to set in again, a dull ache in his calves that reminded him he was still inhabiting a body he didn't understand.
“I'm Natsuki Subaru," he told himself, adjusting the uncomfortable lace at his collar. “I'm a seventeen-year-old shut-in. I’m going to find that girl, I'm going to get my life back, and I am going to get out of this damn skirt.”
They stopped in front of a heavy, stone-built warehouse that looked remarkably sturdy compared to the shacks surrounding it. A single, flickering light leaked through the cracks in the boarded windows.
Felt stepped up to the massive oak door and knocked a sharp, syncopated rhythm. A small slot slid open, an eye peered out, and then the door groaned open on rusted hinges.
"We’re here," Felt whispered, gesturing for him to enter. "Welcome to the end of the line, Lace-wrap."
Subaru took a deep breath, straightened his apron, and stepped into the darkness.
He didn’t see the slight smirk on Felt’s face for the second he turned away from her.