A Different Point of View
A brief respite


He had to keep thinking. This game would only truly end if he gave up- and he'd come so far, witnessed so many horrible events. His family and friends had died over and over again because of his stubborn nature and his refusal to let that witch defeat him. Their sacrifices would mean nothing if he hung his head in shame and refused to keep trying.

His opponent was different now and Bernkastel was far crueller than Beato had been, with her dead eyes and insane smiles. Battler wouldn't let Beato's game board- and, by extension, the people he wanted to protect- fall into her hands. He couldn't...

He refused to let that happen.

He had to keep thinking.

Couldn't stop thinking.

He couldn't give in, even though he knew he looked an awful lot like the loser. It wasn't over… until his mind stopped working and his heart ceased beating.

A spear of red truth pierced through his mouth, his body skewered through and through; pinning him in place like a helpless, dying butterfly on a board. It hurt to breathe; cold metal (was it metal? Probably not; if Dlanor's red sword was made of any earthly material it wouldn't have been so deadly) running through his tongue, and every time his chest rose and fell he could taste blood bubbling inside his mouth- probably deeper inside his body, too.

The pain never went away. Instead, it rose and fell, like breaking waves- in and out... Sometimes it hurt so much he could barely think at all; white-hot agony that plagued his mind and bit into every part of his skin.

Sometimes, he wished he was dead- but he couldn't let that happen.

He hovered on the brink of an abyss. One misplaced step and he'd fall right in. It would be so easy; so simple to turn his mind off and surrender.

But humans weren't electrical appliances, and they didn't give up, gut at, at the flick of a switch.

He won't lose that easily.

His masculine pride- n-no, more than that, his human decency and his sense of right and wrong wouldn't allow that!

He couldn't betray everyone,

He couldn't betray Ange, who had died for him. The memory of Ange's body breaking apart, fragmenting into bloody chunks of meat, made Battler cringe.

She'd probably been in more pain than he was right now.

And...

He couldn't betray Beato.

This was her game board. She'd set it up herself as a mystery novelist pondered over their scenarios; with love and care, and a desire to make a fair fight. Battler was going to win it back for her. He might have looked pretty pathetic right then, one of Dlanor's red wedges pinning him to the floor whilst blood drip-drip-dripped from his mouth, down his chin, onto the white floor with a splish-splash symphony, but... he wasn't going to give in. This was just the tip of the iceberg compared to all the other horrible trials Beato had put him through; his was nothing compared to being eaten alive by rabid goat-headed monsters, or staked continuously by those good-looking sisters with nice... assets.

This was a piece of cake.

Battler would keep himself alive through sheer stubbornness- and what a shock that would be to Bernkastel and Lambdadelta (although, if Beato was still alive, and not doing a very good impression of 'Sleeping Beauty', she would've found that funny; thick-headed obstinance was what she'd grown to expect from Ushiromiya Battler).

Battler was going to take back Beato's game board.

He was going to defeat Bernkastel and Lambdadelta.

He was going to save Beato.

And he wasn't going to stop thinking.

Although it sounded corny, he could almost feel the light dawn upon him as he forcefully cast his mind back, far back- as far back as it would go.

A smiling face.

A girl.

A promise.

A sin from six years ago.

B-but…

Battler gasped- but it wasn't a dying choke or a final breath. Instead, it was the sound of one who… understood. Who understood… everything… as all the pieces fell into place; click, click, click, until the full jigsaw was spread out before him.

B-but no…

No…

T-that couldn't be the real answer… could it?

It couldn't be…


"Hn. Now this is a surprise."

"What is?" asked Battler tiredly, taking a seat at the kitchen table. "I thought this was beginning to become a little predictable myself... ihihi."

"Mm... We really should stop meeting each other like this."

"Damn right. Ihihi…" Battler laughed another tired laugh, resting his head in his hands. "But there aren't that many places to go around here, and it keeps getting even more crowded. This place is nice and quiet."

"Ahh. So you weren't seeking me out yourself, but it was merely chance you stumbled upon me?" asked Ronove, smiling. "Is our encounter here a coincidence?"

Battler didn't reply.

"At any rate," Ronove continued, his voice carefully light, "the previous times you were in need of comfort I had to find you. This is a welcome change."

"How'd you know I need 'comfort'?"

"The look on your face. It's incredibly depressing," said Ronove dryly, still smiling.

Another tired laugh. "Ihihi… Damn it. I would've thought, after all my games with Beato, I'd have developed something of a poker face."

"Your honest, open face is far preferable to that. It is because you wear your heart on your sleeve I was able to note you needed a helping hand earlier, pu ku ku…"

"Yeah. Well, I appreciate your 'helping hand' a lot," said Battler. It was unclear by his tone of voice whether he was being sarcastic or not. Battler wasn't even sure of the answer to that, and he didn't want to ponder it too much. It'd only give him a bigger headache.

Trying to juggle forty characters around- all the Ushiromiyas and their servants, plus Beato's demonic friends- to make a suitable story was nothing short of a headache waiting to happen; and, indeed, it already had happened. Battler had to wonder how Beato had managed it. He had a newfound respect for that witch; she was a damn good storyteller.

Then again… she had been, too.

They used to sit under the arbour in the rose garden, which hadn't been quite as beautiful six years ago as it was now, telling stories. She was… always good at reading stories.

S-she…

Beatrice…?

I-I wish I could say 'I'm confused!' and stop thinking, like before, but… I'd just be lying to myself. Because… I understand now. That's why I'm territory lord, I guess.

But I suppose George really was right all this time. With 'great power comes great responsibility'. Ihihi… I just wanna run around with my cousins and be a kid again.

That's all I want.

I don't want to know this- and I don't want to make a story for Bernkastel and Erika for them to tear apart, either. It feels like a waste of time.

The daunting prospect of making a decent story for the next game wasn't the only reason why Battler's brain felt like it wanted to escape his skull, however. There were... other reasons.

Things he didn't want to think about too much.

Beato's current wide-eyed, adorable state was one of them. Being called 'father' by a girl identical to the insane woman who'd stripped in front of him during the second game because 'fufufu, you're not human, only furniture' was… incredibly confusing.

Way to send out mixed messages, Beato. Now I'm not sure if you're a nice girl pretending to be mean, a heartless bitch pretending to be nice, a witch, a servant, a childhood friend, my worst enemy or a kumquat.

Not to mention the memories; the ones from six years ago.

Her smile.

The mystery stories underneath the arbour.

The promise-

B-but no, Battler didn't want to mention it. He didn't know how he felt about that himself. Trying to explain something he didn't really understand to somebody like Ronove, who was always so calm and composed, would have been embarrassing.

"How are you feeling?" Ronove asked gently.

There was no reply; silence stretching between the pair. Battler stared down at the tabletop, though it was plain he wasn't really seeing it. Instead, he was lost inside his own head.

It wasn't a pleasant place to be, really.

"Ah... I suppose I can make a fairly accurate guess at your emotions without being told. Perhaps it was an insensitive question."

Another pause. Then, speaking in an unusually soft voice, Battler said, "It wasn't insensitive... Unnecessary is what I'd call it. If you want to have an argument about semantics."

"Is that what you wish?"

"Not really. I never did find correct word usage all that interesting- and searching for loopholes in all this red truth has made me like it even less," said Battler, running a hand through his hair. "I guess it'd take my mind off things, but... Then again..."

Ronove's eyes softened as he watched Battler. He looked so... defeated; completely unlike himself it was almost eerie. In the meta world it was rare for things to change; people and their relationships remaining the same for thousands upon thousands of years. With Battler, however, it was different. Perhaps it was because, as a human, his emotions were slightly different to a demons', and his life far shorter- but his feelings were almost completely erratic, from happiness to crushing misery in (seemingly) the blink of an eye. It was interesting to watch from a distance; and that was the main reason why witches like Lambdadelta involved themselves with humans, even if it was unnecessary.

Humans were, quite simply, fascinating; just like watching insects under a magnifying glass. Witches and demons were novel to humans, but the same could be applied in reverse.

Ronove could have watched Battler's distress with nothing more than amusement; and, indeed, his feelings towards Battler may have been more similar to that at the beginning…

But now, after Ronove had learnt more about Battler as a person, rather than an 'interesting human', he… couldn't see it like that anymore.

Ronove was too polite to have found amusement in Virgilia or Gaap's distress when they were upset- and the same could be said for Battler now.

Ronove… sympathized with him.

He didn't like it when Battler frowned.

Moreover, he was far more attractive when he smiled.

"Please don't look so miserable," said Ronove, smiling slightly (somebody had to; otherwise the atmosphere would've been far too heavy- and Ronove was used to smiling anyway). "You're breaking my heart."

Battler blinked. "Do demons have hearts?"

"I suppose so; otherwise I wouldn't be alive. Unless you're suggesting I'm some kind of zombie?"

"...Nah. You're too classy for that."

"Why, thank you."

"Zombies don't generally serve their victims tea."

"True. I suppose adding a scene such as that in 'Night of the Living Dead' would lessen the suspense somewhat, pu ku ku~"

"You've seen that movie too?"

Ronove nodded. "Gaap has a penchant for old horror movies. I believe the most bizarre one Virgilia and myself have been subjected to is 'Weasels Rip My Flesh'. You can tell from the title it's very classy."

"Oh, obviously," said Battler, grinning in spite of himself. "Ihihi… At least you know what you're getting with a name like that."

"And yet it made no passing reference to the shark at the end… But I suppose you can't have everything. In any case… let it be known that I have no desire to open your skull and feast on the contents inside~"

"You have such a charming way of putting it. I guess there wouldn't be enough inside my head to make a decent meal, though" said Battler, still grinning. Why was idle conversation with Ronove so much… fun?

Maybe anything would seem 'fun' in comparison to being subjugated to awful tortures by Beatrice and then Bernkastel- but…

Honestly, Battler would have found a conversation like this 'fun' during a normal school day, with one of his real friends.

"That's what Beato would say. Ihihi... Although..." Battler's nose wrinkled up slightly in confusion. "Since when did you start saying 'let it be known'?"

"Ahh, my apologizes. It appears I've been spending too much time with the members of Eiserne Jungfrau."

"Those girls were pretty hot. Just don't go insane and try to stab me; I only just recovered from one 'blade-through-the-mouth' incident. I don't think I could handle another one so soon. Even if I am incredible."

"I'll keep that in mind," said Ronove. With that, he took a seat beside Battler (the cookie dough he'd been rolling out for Virgilia and Gaap could wait). "So... I'm aware I already asked this, and I'm aware the answer might be one you don't want to divulge- but I'm extremely curious. How are you feeling?"

"Awful."

"Even after our conversation?"

"Well..." Battler reconsidered. "Perhaps one level up from awful. It's still pretty bad, though. I don't think your demonic charm and wit can help much more."

"You think I'm charming?" asked Ronove. For a few brief moments, he looked honestly surprised. "I was under the impression you found me incredibly irritating."

"Yeah, I do- but you're pretty much the only person around here I can have a conversation with," said Battler. He sighed. "Who knows. Maybe you've grown on me. Or maybe I'm going insane. I did try and find you myself this time- so if you annoy me now I'll only have myself to blame. Ihihi..."

"Ah~ So you admit you did try to find me."

"Guilty as charged."

"Hm." Ronove leant forwards, his blue eyes meeting Battler's. "Battler… I prefer it when you're optimistic. It truly is a remarkable trait humans have. They're able to be cheerful despite the awful circumstances that surround them. I would even say it's admirable. Could you try and smile once more? You did so nicely before."

"I'm not in a smiling mood right now- and, given I'm an 'endless sorcerer' or something, I'm not entirely 'human' either," said Battler. "Guess I have a right to be unhappy. Anyway, you shouldn't be ordering me around. Isn't that my job now, because you're my furniture?"

"Pu ku ku~ I suppose so. Perhaps I was being disrespectful. Would you like me to call you 'Lord Battler'?"

Battler paused for a few seconds before- finally- he smiled. This wasn't a self-deprecating smile, though; instead, it seemed more sincere.

Battler… really did look nice like that.

It was amusing watching expressions cycle across a human's face for a short period of time- but after a while, a smile… did seem to suit them best.

"Nah. You don't have to. I'm not that arrogant- and it'd probably get old after a while, anyway."

"At least you're smiling once more? I have to admit, it makes me feel somewhat relieved."

"Relieved?" Battler raised a brow. "Why would you be relieved for me?"

"Hn... I'm not entirely sure. Perhaps because I'm not inherently malicious... and I dislike seeing you upset," said Ronove. Pauses began to develop between his words as he searched for the right thing to say. "You've experienced so many painful situations already it would be... unfair of me to try and make it worse. And, as I said before... I've always admired your ability to remain cheerful, regardless of the situation. Such naïveté and innocence is truly refreshing."

Talking to humans (Battler, despite his 'sorcerer' status, was very much a human) was always tricky; far more difficult than interacting with fellow demons. Well... perhaps it was easier talking to demons because Ronove had known most of them for several thousand years. After such a large amount of time, it became relatively simple maintaining good relations with people.

This wasn't entirely true with Gaap, who enjoyed antagonizing people, but Ronove prided himself on the fact he was able to be slightly less irritating than Gaap.

"Huh... Is that so?" Battler grinned. "Ihihi... If I didn't know better, I'd say you actually care about me."

"I have to care. I'm your furniture now, remember?"

"That's not what I meant and you know it," said Battler, rolling his eyes. "You're not trying to avoid a difficult conversation, are you?"

"I'll leave that up to your interpretation- although you probably shouldn't accuse me of 'avoiding' a difficult topic when you refuse to tell me why you're so upset."

Battler's breath caught in his throat. H-he didn't want to discuss this; he'd been trying to forget, a-and now-

"Battler."

Battler shuddered as he heard his name fall from Ronove's lips. Why did that damn butler have to choose now, of all times, to start acting serious? It was disconcerting... a-and it made Battler feel slightly light-headed; especially when Ronove looked at him like that, with actual concern in his eyes.

Didn't Ronove himself say 'don't trust me'?

B-but then, if that was the case... who could Battler trust?

Perhaps not even himself, if what he thought was correct- a-and it must have been, otherwise he wouldn't have been the game master, tasked with the almost impossible job of creating a new story.

He was right.

He knew the entire truth of Beato's game board- and it weighed him down, almost as if he were holding his own tombstone. He'd sought the truth for so long… but he didn't want the burden of carrying it anymore.

He'd come so far, and yet, maybe…

M-maybe he was weak after all…

Maybe he would have been better off not knowing the truth.

Maybe it would have been better if he let himself die- b-but what kind of selfish thinking was that?

"Battler... if you want me to be honest with you, then I'll be honest. Just this once."

"Ha. That makes a change."

"Indeed. But life needs a little variety; otherwise it would get boring. And I believe I, along with my fellow demons, know this better than anyone," said Ronove. He sighed. As he did so, his eyes did not leave Battler's; not even once. They were so blue- so completely fixed, and far too serious, that it was unsettling. "I do care for your wellbeing; perhaps more than I should... That's why I want to know."

Battler felt a slight tremor run up his spine. There was something so sincere about those words it pierced him deep down; even deeper than any of Beato's blades of red truth.

Ihihi... Beato would probably be annoyed to hear him think that.

Although... Not anymore.

Not given her current state. She wasn't really Beato anymore; she was an un-hatched 'chick' who tried to bake him cookies. Haha, was she trying to upstage Ronove or something? That wasn't her job.

It wasn't…

She was his enemy.

He wanted her to be his enemy- because if she wasn't, who did he have left to blame…?

A cruel voice echoed in Battler's head; that's what you always do when you're upset. You blame somebody else, because you're too childish to think maybe, this time, it was cruel fate and nothing else.

You did it when Asumu died, didn't you?

Now, you're doing it again.

Battler linked his fingers together, eyes falling to the tabletop. He shuddered. The voice in his head was right, he knew it- b-but he didn't want to listen to reason or logic. He wanted to shut it up.

Believe in the witch…

It would have been better to believe in the witch.

Well… maybe witches and demons didn't matter all that much anymore.

"Maybe I'll feel more comfortable talking after I've had something to drink."

"Would you like some tea?"

"No, not tea. Something stronger, maybe?"

"You might be the territory lord, Battler, but I'm still not going to give you any alcohol. I have to be the responsible adult."

Battler opened his mouth, ready to retort (could you even apply the phrase 'adult' to somebody over one thousand years old?), but he was cut off by the sound of another voice.

"Well, you're boring, Ronove! Fufufu~ I, on the other hand, have absolutely nooo problem drinking with little Battler here! He's sooo hot, it'd be a sin not to! You're wasting a perfectly good chance to snatch him up for yourself!~ Kukukuku~"

In a swirl of red skirts and bouncing blonde curls, Gaap, the portal demon, appeared before Battler. She had emerged from the table in a haze of dark black, and was now sat, eye-to-eye, with Battler, a small smirk on her face.

"Fufufu~ Do you want to have some fun, do you, do you? It seems only right, given you just beat Bernkastel~ Not many people can say that. You should celebrate a little!"

"Yeah," said Battler, his face lighting up. "That's what I was thinking, too."

Ronove sighed, resting a hand on Gaap's shoulder.

"Gaap... Please don't try and corrupt Battler. Protecting him from Lady Bernkastel and Lady Lambdadelta is difficult enough; I hardly want his allies turning on him as well."

"Aww~ I'll bring him back in one piece," said Gaap, resting her head atop of Battler's. "Don't you trust meeee?"

Ronove smiled, shaking his head. "Do you want the honest answer or the polite one?"

"I'm gonna vote for neither! C'mon, Bahhhttler~" Gaap bumped her fist against Battler's head. "Let's go get drunk! It'll take your mind off things~"

"Ihihi... Sure. Why not? I guess I deserve it."

"That's the spirit!" Smirking, Gaap turned to Ronove. "Wanna join in?"

"...I think I'll pass."

Rolling her eyes, Gaap said, "Huh, fine. Suit yourself." She then stuck out her tongue. "Boooring. Maybe Lia'll join, though. She likes to act all prim and proper, but you should see her when she gets totally wasted. She has this habit of sitting in the bathtub singing Mozart's 'The Magic Flute'."

"Pu ku ku... Ah yes. I remember that. I shouldn't laugh, though..." An amused smile still remained on Ronove's face, however. "Miss Virgilia was quite embarrassed by the whole incident. She would probably appreciate it if you didn't mention it anymore."

"Yeah, she probably would. Doesn't mean I'll stop talking about it, though," said Gaap, smirking. "I hope she sings somethin' everybody can join in with this time, though. Maybe something by Handel. Like the Hallelujah chorus~ Everybody knows that one! Right." Gaap took hold of Battler's hand, pulling him up off his chair. "Let's go, let's go!~ Let's have some funnn! I used to go drinking with Riiche a few times, ya know."

"And cleaning up afterwards was never very much fun."

"Well, look at you, bein' all 'mature'," said Gaap. "But I don't care! You won't stop us having fun!"

And, with that statement, both Gaap and Battler vanished.

Ronove sighed.

Perhaps it would have been wiser to stop Battler going with Gaap- but he had been monopolizing a lot of Battler's time lately. Perhaps he was being selfish. Even so, Ronove couldn't help but worry about him.

What, exactly, was Battler so desperate to forget? Battler was usually so open; even about rather dark subject matters. Ronove was curious and, above all... he was concerned. At first, Ronove had attempted to help Battler as per Beatrice's requests. She didn't want her opponent to be broken so easily before her games had reached their conclusion, so Battler needed at least one person in the meta world he could rely on. That was the main reason (apart from his tea and cookies) Beatrice had called Ronove back in the first place. But...

It was something a little more than that now.

All Ronove knew was that Battler looked far, far more attractive when he smiled.

Well.

Maybe Battler would be more willing to talk if he was drunk.

...Not that Ronove was going to try and take advantage of the situation.

He was a gentleman.


a/n: Of course ;D
Next two chapters will be fun to write~~
Then this fic will probably very nearly be over... Which is kind of sad XD

~renahhchen xoxo