Author's Note: For this fic, I am not going to write the Kararagi accent for every single character because I would go insane. Imagine it if you want, but I'll be writing their lines normally for the time being.
"Sloth" refers to a group of forest-dwelling mammals native to Central and South America. They are famous for their incredibly slow movement and even their very metabolism runs at a snail's pace. In fact, sloths are so incredibly lethargic that their metabolism is even slower than that of a snail's. In practically every regard, they are the animalistic embodiment of laziness.
But the term Sloth is older than human naming conventions for species like Bradypus variegatus. And those species in turn predate those naming conventions and the term Sloth itself.
Likewise, the concept that the term Sloth embodies is far more ancient than the human label for it. For as long as humans have existed, they have felt and exhibited laziness, even if they might not have had a word to describe it.
In fact, laziness, and thus Sloth, most definitely predates humanity itself, as they are certainly not the only creatures capable of it. Perhaps Sloth even predates mammals in general? Probably. But we can never know for sure. Ah, the unknown. What a beautiful thing indeed.
Regardless, the point is that Sloth is an ancient concept, a property that is intrinsic to human and a vast array of animal life. It is a characteristic that can never be completely lost nor completely overcome, as it is a part of their very nature.
All humans possess Sloth, just as they possess Pride, Greed, Wrath, Gluttony, Lust, and Envy.
But… that isn't quite true. There are humans born without Lust. There are humans who have grown to no longer even feel Envy or Greed or Gluttony. There are humans who lack even a drop of Pride. But are there humans who truly, totally, entirely lack Sloth?
Many have tried to maintain constant Diligence in the face of Sloth, but it is a never-ending battle, a struggle that is forever fascinating to watch unfold. It is within human nature to cut corners, to minimize effort expended, to feel reluctance at additional work, to run away from responsibility.
One's Pride can cause them to burn away, consumed by their own ideals.
One's Greed can drive them to sacrifice what matters in the pursuit of losing nothing..
One's Wrath can zap the color and trust from the world.
One's Gluttony can lead them astray in their overindulgence of 「themselves」.
One's Lust can make them lose sight of their values and entrench them in a loveless ideology.
One's Envy can tear the whole world asunder…
But there is a strange comfort in one's Sloth. There is a special kind of happiness humans find in running away, from abandoning all responsibilities and duties.
Unfortunately, the world is not a kind place.
No one can run forever.
Eventually, one's Sloth too will spell their doom.
And Vainglory, pure unbridled Vanity, is what pushes me to give this explanation.
Banan, Kararagi's second largest city, was quite a lively place. The classic wafuu-like architecture that every structure in the city was based upon would lead one to assume that it was a more subdued, traditional town. However, especially in the last twenty years, that could not have been further from the case.
It all started with a single family, at the center of which was a singular otherworldly man. Saying that his ideas were strange wouldn't do them justice; they were borderline insane. They were so incredibly absurd that they went far beyond crazy and looped all the way back to being practical and popular.
A festival designed around throwing beans at onis, a tradition of eating unreasonably long sushi rolls in an arbitrary direction without speaking a word, the practice of putting fish heads on sticks when fish are hard to come by in Banan—all these ideas and more were born of his mind, or rather derived from a hometown he scarcely mentioned. All seemed destined for failure, and yet all succeeded spectacularly.
Strangers and travelers alike have often been quick to assume that the one to propose these ideas was a crazy old man with too much time on his hands, but said person was just as bizarre in personality and appearance as his invented holidays.
He was a middle-aged family man with a loving wife and two children, yet spent most of his working hours brainstorming alongside the elderly or instructing seamstresses in the ways of making foreign clothing. His distinct short black hair had long since grown to a medium length, needing to be tied back for most activities, but refused to grey whatsoever. The nasty-looking eyes that once left bad impressions on everyone he met had become normal and even comforting to Banan's inhabitants.
Through his relentless energetic attitude and youthful spirit that remained unwavering even with the forward march of time, he asserted himself as a hallmark of Banan, inseparable from its identity and an unyielding feature of daily life there.
His exaggerated movements and expressions, which hadn't changed at all since he first arrived in Kararagi, made up for any deficiencies in his physical capabilities.
Just seeing him in action gave the old the strength to socialize, the shy the courage to put themselves out there, and the stubborn a reason to change their ways.
He was the head of the Banan Cultural Promotion Committee, and the one primarily responsible for the city's increased sense of unity and its now thriving sense of culture. Through his efforts, his ideas spread across Kararagi, and even the other great nations, like wildfire.
He was Natsuki Subaru, and he was inarguably famous.
Everyone in Banan knew him and the rest of his strange family; the once destitute immigrants were local celebrities, recognizable by practically everyone in the city:
His wife, Natsuki Rem, was a beautiful woman with long blue hair that flowed behind her like a gentle stream, never seeming disheveled in the slightest. Her enchanting eyes were of a similar hue, yet just a touch darker, reminding her husband of the great oceans of Earth every time their gazes met. Even with her ever-growing age and having birthed two children, she was still as gorgeous as the day she first stepped foot in the city. Every time that Rem traversed Banan's streets, heads would turn just to see her walk past, taking in the sight of the alluring figure she'd managed to maintain throughout the years. Subaru would often argue—regularly in public, much to her embarrassed joy—that she was actually more beautiful with every day that passed, aging like a fine wine. A respected teacher, a beloved wife, and the model of a mother—Rem was possibly even more popular than her husband.
Their daughter was Natsuki Spica, a generally average albeit exceptionally adorable eight year old girl. She had her mother's face and eyes, her features being rounded and soft. But whereas Rem's characteristics gave her a feeling of maturity, wisdom, and above all, beauty, Spica's enhanced her innocence. The color of those orbs and the short, simply styled black hair she had was that of her father's, but when balanced with her mother's traits, she left an impression of childish cuteness that none in Banan could rival.
Beyond her adorable appearance, Spica was otherwise a largely unremarkable young girl, with no particular outstanding talents at first glance. Much like many of the children in her neighborhood, she attended Temple Elementary School—the place where her mother had spent the past two decades working—and took part in all the activities the average eight year old girl in Banan would.
She ate breakfast, went to school, ate lunch, took more classes, partook in extra-curricular activities, and made it back home before sundown every day. It was a very regular and consistent schedule, only broken by weekends, the summer, and… holidays.
In the past, Banan did not have all too many holidays, and the ones they did have weren't all that impressive. But ever since Subaru began influencing Banan's culture… it felt like there was a holiday for every single month of the year. And worse, Spica was personally and uniquely involved in several of those holidays, very much unlike an average girl. In particular, she was integral to the Setsubun festival, being in charge of choosing the lucky direction to eat Ehomaki in—a responsibility she had held for longer than she could remember.
As a Natsuki, she was popular and well known by default, but this particular job of her's made her especially memorable to Banan's populace. And yet, outside of these family connections, Spica was the member of the family closest to being 'normal'—or at least, that was the impression she tried to give.
Naturally, said family would disagree with that assessment, arguing that their darling Spica's cuteness alone was world-class, with many of Banan's inhabitants agreeing. Subaru and Rem would forever hold each other as the 'number one cutest in the world', but they both held firm that Spica was the unquestionable number two.
However, there was one member of the family that had always believed, even before Spica's birth, that she was second to none. And said member was yet another reason that the young half-oni was well liked, well regarded, and very well treated—his piercing stares and murderous intent scaring off any and all problems she had ever faced before Spica was even aware of them. At least, that's what everyone thought anyway.
Natsuki Rigel was her older brother and an intense siscon despite now being eighteen years of age. He was the spitting image of his father, complete with sanpaku eyes, and, due in part to that iconic and unique look, was consequently recognized even by the smallest of children in the city.
But Subaru had influenced Rigel's recognizability in other ways as well. As the Setsubun King—the centerpiece of one of his father's many invented holidays—he'd been chased around, pelted by beans and various food items, for nearly half his life. As a result, all knew of his strength, his skill, and his bratty nature from personal experience.
In fact, he'd grown so adept at dodging the objects thrown his way during the Bean-Tossing Festival that there had been a year where he'd nearly gotten through Setsubun without once being touched, despite the whole town coordinating against him. Only when his mentor joined the fray did Rigel lose that particular winning streak, and even then it took a great deal of effort on said master's part.
Rigel was a natural prodigy in many things, even if he was a somewhat shy and reserved kid. He considered his talent to be inherited directly from his mother, and his skill to have been honed by his training with his uncle—Halibel the Eternal Playboy, better known as the Admirer and the strongest man in Kararagi.
But Halibel hadn't been in Banan for nearly two years, and Rigel's training had consequently stalled. Of course, he'd often go off on long journeys without a word and come back totally unharmed weeks or even months later… but he had never been gone for this long before, and the whole Natsuki family was engulfed by silent worry for their canine member.
However, it was not the time for anxious and depressing thoughts such as these. It was a beautiful spring day and the whole of the family was out of work and school, enjoying the hustle and bustle of Banan's marketplace together.
Vendors sold fresh, in-season produce, customers haggled for lower prices in every direction, many simply were passing by, taking in the feeling of the city and socializing with any acquaintances they bumped into on the street—truly, Banan was the very ideal of Kararagi in that moment.
And walking down the center of the well-trodden road was the Natsuki family, at the head of which was—
"Will you cut it out?! I thought you were supposed to get less embarrassing with age. How am I the one acting mature here?!" the blue-haired young man said, holding his father back with one hand.
"C'mon, Rigel! Where's your sense of youth! Your sense of spirit! Or are you just like all those grandpas I work with, all work, no play?" The middle aged man ignored his son's effortless refusal, continuing to try and push his way through to close the distance between them.
"Tsk," Rigel clicked his tongue, looking away from Subaru. "How can someone as old as you have youthful spirit?"
The black-haired man relented for a moment and stood up straight, keeping a tight grip on the object in his hands.
"Well, you see, Rigel, your old man's just as energetic as the day you were born."
Rigel shot him a doubting look; he was unphased, and struck a classic pose, putting a hand on his hip and a finger to the sky.
"Your doubt only feeds my energy! I will tease you every day, even if it kills me! It is my duty as a father!"
The young man could only groan in frustration at that remark, tossing a pleading glance a short ways behind him. The woman his sights landed upon immediately replied, a dignified smile on her face,
"Rem can confirm. Your father certainly has that same youthful energy as he did the first time we—as he did when he was younger."
"It's too late to correct it now!" Rigel shot back, his cheeks growing hot.
"Correct what, big bro?"
The half-oni once again shifted his attention; this time it landed on the girl who'd been walking beside his mother, hand in hand. She tilted her head, one brow raised.
"Ah, well…"
Rigel froze up, his duty as an innocence-protecting brother conflicting with his need to maintain his dignity.
Spica's perplexed expression morphed into a slight frown at her brother's silence.
"Big bro… are you hiding something from me again?"
He felt a stabbing pain in his heart at the betrayal in her tone. His eyes darted around the marketplace, looking for any way to distract from the situation.
And then, he spotted a vendor a few paces away selling various accessories.
"I'll be right back, Spica!"
Pivoting on his feet and walking straight away from his family, Rigel marched over to the vendor.
Now standing much closer and having successfully dodged his family's teasing, the half-oni could properly process what he was seeing.
The vendor was a male fox-like demi-human covered in crimson yet visibly greying fur. He stood at a rather short stature, being a head and a half shorter than Rigel, and generally gave off a rather meek impression.
The demihuman's wares were numerous and varied, ranging from simple bracelets to lavish jewelry to even the ritualistic talismans that his father had recently popularized.
"Hello there," the fox-man said, his voice rather gruff. "Looking for something in particular?"
Rigel quickly scanned the items as he replied, "No, I—"
He cut himself off as his eyes landed on one of the many accessories laid out for viewing: a simple red ribbon. There was nothing particularly special or enchanting about it, but Rigel felt drawn to it nonetheless. Perhaps it was his brotherly instincts at work? Regardless, he had made his decision.
"Actually, yes." He pointed at the ribbon. "How much is this one?"
"Kinda pricey, but it'll be worth it… Spica will look adorable."
Rigel walked away from the vendor, his steps slow and casual, the red ribbon bundled in his hand. He looked up, seeing his mother's and, unfortunately, his father's back turned to him, standing not far from where Rigel had left them earlier.
His elated expression soured as thoughts of his sister were overwritten with ones of Subaru, but the young man's spirits remained high as he approached the group once more.
Hearing steps behind him, the black haired man turned around, a smile forming on his face as he noticed his son.
"Oi! Rigel! Where'd you even run off to?"
Before the half-oni could even reply, Subaru continued, "Doesn't matter. Come take a look at this!"
Subaru stepped aside, Rem moving along with him, and revealed the person he'd been obscuring.
Rigel's breath hitched and his body froze up at what he saw. His pupils dilated, and any thoughts of sending a witty, disrespectful remark his father's way vanished.
His sister, Natsuki Spica, was someone he had always and would always find to be immeasurably cute. But at that very moment, she exceeded even the notorious siscon's expectations.
Spica stood casually in place, wearing her usual grey Kararagi-style clothes—the color of which Rigel would forever think looked infinitely better on her than on their father. But what caused him to react in such a way was what adorned the girl's head. It was the very item Subaru had tried forcing onto Rigel's own head mere minutes ago: a pair of fake bunny ears.
Spica tilted her head at her brother's star-struck expression, those ears moving along with her. Rigel seared that image into his mind.
"Big bro?" the girl said, conversational, her attention shifting away from the look she'd grown used to over the years.
"Y-yeah?"
"What's that?" she asked, pointing at the object in his hand.
Rigel blinked several times, shaking himself out of his trance.
"O-oh… it's just something I thought would look good on you, but…"
He trailed off. Glancing at the ribbon, he could already tell that—as much as he hated to admit it—his father had bested him this time. Spica with a pair of bunny ears reached a level of cuteness that his simple gift could not hope to achieve.
"Mother."
Rigel looked up as his sister called out to Rem.
Spica was standing next to her now, the bunny ears gone from her head.
"Could you please hold father's gift? I want to try on big bro's."
Rem smiled at her daughter, taking the fake ears into her hands. "Of course, Spica."
The half-oni thanked Rem and turned back to her brother.
"Okay, big bro. Stop looking so sad and let me try on the thing you got me."
Subaru stood beside his wife, happily watching their two children interact with each other. Of course, his gift being rejected in such a way hurt his pride, but he was just glad that Spica was turning out to be more mature and sensible than he'd expected, even if she was still his innocent little girl. After all of Rigel's pampering, Subaru was worried that his daughter would turn out spoiled rotten to the core, but this sort of thing served to ease his concerns.
A voice called out from beside him, "They're such good siblings aren't they, darling?"
Subaru turned to his wife, finding Rem's gaze to be oozing with unrestrained affection. He remained silent for a moment, taking in as much of her expression as he could.
No stressed, tired bags hung under her eyes like blotches on pristine paper nor did wrinkles mar her face with a pattern reminiscent of drought-stricken lands. She was beautiful. No, she was more than that; she was perfect.
The smile she held shone with such intensity that he could feel it purifying his very soul. If he could marry her again, he'd do it. Again and again, he'd marry and love her for every moment of his life. To Subaru, it was impossible for a woman to be more attractive, more awe-inspiring, more lovely, more anything than Rem.
"Only because they had the best mother in the world," he replied, a warmth in his chest, with as much adoration as the first time he told her he loved her.
Rem met that intensity, that sincerity, that returning of her unrestrained affection head-on. Her eyes moistened and she averted her gaze, her face tinting pink. Rem could, would, and has publicly cried tears of joy because of husband, but this time she decided to exercise some restraint.
She was not shy as she returned her sights to their children, just considerate. They had a long day's worth of shopping after this, after all. They could save being lovey-dovey for later.
Subaru's eyes remained fixed on her, though. He studied each hair, and feature of her side profile as if it were the first time. From her exact expression, he could tell Rem was savoring the image of his own star-struck look before it reverted to a merely love-struck one. What a lucky man he was.
But then, her smile vanished, and the blush faded from her face. Her eyes narrowed and her cheeks scrunched up, an expression Subaru immediately identified as a shocked anxiety.
"Oh no…" she muttered, that surprise quickly becoming more full of worry than anything else.
He knew she would turn to him next, but instead he decided to follow her gaze, to see for himself what had disturbed her.
He found Rigel still similarly star-struck beside his sister. Nothing unusual there.
His sights shifted left and—
A sinking feeling overwhelmed Subaru. His love-warmed breaths grew cold, and goosebumps formed all over his whole body.
"Father?" Spica asked, innocent as ever.
But Subaru couldn't hear that word escape her lips.
He looked at the girl, aged only eight years old, with a disturbingly familiar red ribbon tied in her hair in a way he knew all too well.
In Spica's place, standing in the market, his mind could only make out the form of an orange haired girl calling his name. Her grey outfit was gone, replaced by simple Lugunican clothes for a simple village girl.
It was Petra Leyte, and she appeared exactly as he remembered her. Vacant bloodied holes lingered in place of her gouged out eyes, the deathly paleness of her skin contrasted terribly with the blood that stained it, that childish smile was gone, replaced by nothing but the empty expression of death…
Subaru's every muscle froze, and then quivered. His arms twitching, his legs losing their strength, he found himself on the verge of collapse, unable to stand under the weight of the guilt that that memory brought.
But he did not fall. A pair of arms wrapped around him. Warmth rushed back into his body, and he looked away from the haunting image of his past.
His wife was hugging him. He saw tears on her face but… she wasn't crying.
He brought a hand to his cheek, and felt that it was wet.
"Oh…" His voice was raspy.
"It's okay, Subaru-kun. Rem is here, you are here, we are safe, away from it all."
Her words eased his trembling to a halt, even if not all the strength in his legs returned. He took a deep breath, trying his best to gather his thoughts, before turning back to the little girl.
He saw his daughter now, her face sporting an uncharacteristic frown and her brow furrowed in concern. But it was his daughter. It wasn't Petra. It wasn't his past. He was safe. They were safe.
I made the right choice. I did what I had to do for this family, for Rem, for our happiness.
A shaky smile formed on his face, one that he did not have to force. Even with the sadness and guilt he'd been saddled with all those years ago, looking at his adorable daughter and powerful son, he could now honestly think:
I have no regrets.
Banan became a different city depending on the time of day and season one chose to explore it.
On fall mornings, Banan was a sleepy town full of lethargic residents that often chose to sleep in, despite responsibilities and the ever-prevalent merchant's spirit that all those in Kararagi were raised with.
On winter days, the people of Banan wore more of Subaru's exciting new 'western-style' clothes than any other time of year, with a wide assortment of jackets and hats and fuzzy, cozy accessories to keep the residents warm.
On summer nights, with frequent festivals and vitality in the air, Banan often became, as Subaru put it, 'a city that never slept'.
But the type of city Banan was at the present moment in time—the type of city Banan became on spring afternoons—was one of tranquility and peace. With new life everywhere and the day's labors winding to a close, the people of Banan went about their business with an extra touch of kindness and serenity.
Folks haggled less intensely meaning merchants gave into any negotiations easier, managers let their workers off early and workers in turn spent more time with their families, and most importantly for this story, families with their newfound free time chose to spend the afternoon in each others' company, more focused on having fun than on what remaining responsibilities they had.
But even with this mood Banan collectively found itself swept up by, groceries still needed to be bought and work still needed to be done. So, while the Natsuki family indulged themselves in shopping and the city's various amenities, Subaru did not join them despite proposing the outing himself.
As he walked through the orange-tinted streets, the setting sun at his back, the black haired man dragged along several bags full of fruits, vegetables, and whatever else Rem needed to cook dinner for the next few days. And, being the normal human he was, Subaru found this task that any of the other members of his demonic family would easily complete to be incredibly physically strenuous.
Of course, this was the secondary reason Rem was hesitant to allow Subaru to take on the burden of shopping himself—with the primary reason being that she wanted to spend as much time with her beloved husband as possible. But after the scene he made at the market earlier, he thought some time alone would do both him and his concerned children some good.
Rem understood his reasoning intuitively, as no one in the world understood the inner workings of his mind better than her, while Rigel was all too happy to spend time with his sister and mother without him. However, Spica objected to Subaru's plan with the most fervor. She argued that it would be most fun with the whole family present and stubbornly refused to go without him, saying that she would rather shop with Subaru than have fun without him.
Of course, such a sentiment warmed his middle-aged heart, specifically targeting his fatherly pride, but he held strong. He only managed to convince her to go along with the plan by promising to tell her a brand new bedtime story once they all got back home. But not the one about red and blue ogres.
He didn't want to cry in front of his daughter.
The recollection forced a sigh from Subarus lips. Nothing in that interaction was particularly unusual, but the reaction he had to the ribbon Rigel put on Spica… it was the one thing that kept looping in his mind as he went about his chores. There truly was nothing in his traumatic past that he regretted now, but at the moment, he did regret how that past placed unnecessary stress on his family, no matter how much Rem and him tried to hide it away.
"You looked pale as a corpse, dad," Rigel had said to him before parting ways, dropping his usual bratty attitude for a moment.
"If only he knew…" Subaru thought, recalling all the times that that simile was more literal than rhetorical.
"I guess that's the sort of thing to take to my grave…" he muttered to himself, coming to a stop.
Would his grave ever even come?
And then the sound of shaking roused him from his thoughts.
"Spare change, sir?" a voice asked, aged and scruffy.
Subaru turned to see an elderly man sitting with his back to a wall a few paces away from him. The man held a cup in his hand, which was filled with a handful of coins, and looked at the black haired man with pleading eyes. His clothes were no more than rags, and what few hairs remained on his head were pure white. It was pitiful, for a man so old to live in such poor conditions.
After considering him for a moment, Subaru placed all but one of his bags of groceries down, keeping the one full of bright fresh appas in his hands. He approached the beggar and got down on one knee.
"I don't have any change left on me…" Subaru started, holding the bag out to the man. "But hopefully this'll do just as well in its place."
The beggar's pleading eyes filled with guilt and he visibly trembled.
"Why?" he asked, a quiver in his voice.
"There's a certain Kararagian way I believe in," Subaru replied, leaving the bag in the beggar's shaking hands, and stood.
"The more bonds you make, the more good bonds you get," he repeated, recalling a long-distant memory.
The beggar broke down into tears at those words, and Subaru decided to turn away and leave him one last shred of his dignity.
But then he felt a slap on his right calf, accompanied by a brief stinging pain. Spinning around; he saw the beggar's hand on his leg.
Before any question could be given, the old man explained, "T-there was a bug on your leg."
Glancing down, Subaru could see a dead insect on the beggar's hand. He smiled at the occurrence.
"Would you look at that? My act of good will is already paying off. I guess karma really is a thing…"
The old man did not reply, and Subaru once again turned and went on his way.
Still sitting alone with his back to the wall, the guilt and pleading in the old man's eyes lingered, even stronger than before.
In less than a whisper, he remarked, "And the more bonds you break, the more good bonds you lose… Natsuki Subaru."
"And then he turned to ash in the sunlight, unable to revive himself and harm the Joestar family ever again," Subaru said, leaning back in his chair.
It was rather late at night, and he was feeling unusually tired and drained.
"Probably just all that shopping and heavy lifting…"
"Really?" Spica asked, excited and giddy, shaking Subaru out of his thoughts in the process.
"Not unless you count the effects of the Stand Arrows in parts 4 and 5… or Pucci in part 6…" he replied, absentmindedly reaching his hand down to scratch his right calf. It had been itching for a while now, but not enough to be concerning.
Right as she was going to ask him to elaborate on his half-mumbled reply, he cut her off, "But!"
"That's a story for another time, I'm afraid," he explained, standing up from his chair. He felt oddly lightheaded doing so, but paid it little mind.
"Faaaaather! You can't just tell me that and then not finish the story!" she groaned from her place in bed, wiggling around under the sheets.
Subaru bent over and laid a gentle kiss on her forehead, before putting out the light in the room.
"Maybe someday soon, if you're especially good, I'll tell you the rest."
He walked to the door and turned back when he reached it. "Besides, that was the end in a way. DIO was gone and nothing but the aftershocks of his existence remained to threaten the Joestar family."
Spica was silent for a moment, but soon said, a hint of hesitation to her words, "But… every action has a consequence, father."
Her tone shifted as she continued, stating her conclusion as if it were more of a fact than speculation, "Even if the crisis feels like it's over, another one may be lurking right around the corner."
Subaru stopped at this and the gentle, fatherly smile he held faded from his face.
"Where'd you hear an argument like that, Spica?" he asked, concerned and confused as to why his daughter was suddenly acting so wise and verbose.
"Dunno. Sorta just what makes sense to me," she answered, seemingly unsure herself.
But she quickly shook off her confusion. "Hey! Don't dodge the question! I wanna hear the rest!"
Subaru's smile returned at her complaint.
"Be a good girl and sleep now, and maybe I'll tell the rest sooner rather than later."
Even through the darkness, he could see her pouting. With a chuckle, he said, "Goodnight, Spica."
She sighed and returned the gesture, "Goodnight, father."
Subaru stood in front of the door to his room, but did not reach for the handle. He remained in place for several long seconds, gathering his thoughts.
The hall was quiet, the lingering noises of the town muted as they attempted to sneak their way past the Natsuki household's thick walls.
The door he stood in front of was a sliding one, the kind that was common in Kararagi. But this door was different than normal; it was far girthier and much better at blocking sound.
Were it a normal sliding door, Rem would have likely noticed him by now. But, luckily, he was neither visible nor audible through it.
Which was for the best, as his breathing was heavy. Each inhale was deep and each exhale was hot, hotter than normal.
And his leg… that light itching had intensified greatly. He had to constantly stop his hand from shooting down and scratching.
"Obviously, I'm not feeling well…" he thought, reflecting on his senses.
"This came on a little too fast for a normal cold… and it's springtime too…" he mumbled.
Raising his arm to his head, Subaru wiped his forehead with his sleeve. It took more effort to do that than he expected, and looking down at his clothes, he could see the dampness of sweat on them.
"This is probably something to have checked out but… Rem would worry too mu—"
The sliding door he'd been standing in front of opened with a THUD.
"Rem would worry about what, darling?" the person just across from him asked, her azure eyes lined with concern.
"Ah, that's right… smell doesn't really get blocked…"
Subaru immediately forced on a smile and raised an arm to scratch the back of his head.
"Ah, it's really nothing…" he said, his voice strained.
She ignored his attempt at hiding away his condition, and placed a tender hand on his forehead. Her eyes widened upon contact with his skin.
"You're burning up! Subaru-kun, you're sick!"
He tried to shoot back a reply, but instead let out a wet cough—right onto his wife's face.
"Oh my God, I'm so—" A finger on his lips cut him off.
Rem wiped her face with her sleeve and wordlessly ushered her husband to their bed, laying him down there.
"Rem…" he muttered, guilt and embarrassment filling him as she sat down beside him.
She ignored his remark and placed her hands on his chest, saying, "Mana of Water, grant thy healing."
As a pale light shined on Subaru, his body instinctively relaxed, knowing well the feeling of relief that always accompanied those words and that light.
But… something was wrong. No feeling of relief came, and the look of concern on Rem's face hardened.
"It's not working…" she muttered; her eyes narrowed, drilling a hole through her own hands.
And then, the light vanished and she met his gaze.
"Rem will get you a cold towel and then fetch a healer to come and inspect you."
She retracted her hands and began to stand, saying, "It's quite late and the old one will be cranky at us for awhile, but—"
A hand tug on her sleeve. Looking down, she saw that Subaru had latched onto her, a reassuring smile on his face.
"C'mon, Rem, it can wait for the morning, you're probably just rusty is all." He sat up in bed and pointed upwards. "A little cold won't take me down so easily, even if I'm middle aged!"
Rem's look of concern lingered for a long, silent moment. But with a sigh, it melted into one of resigned apprehension.
"Subaru-kun is right… Rem is probably just overreacting…"
He relaxed at this concession, before her next words put him back on edge.
"But!" she said, determination in her eyes, "Rem will watch you through the night. If you get any worse, you're going straight to the healer even if Rem has to carry you."
Subaru lay in bed, staring at the ceiling of his now dark room. Rem was beside him, clinging to his chest, sound asleep. Clearly, despite all her best attempts at pushing past it, she too was exhausted and unable to keep to her word. Perhaps she'd been overworking herself once again? Subaru tried not to think about it. He could figure it out in the morning.
At the moment, amazingly, he was more concerned with his own health than Rem's. Normally, he'd never expect something like that from himself, but every labored breath and every pang of pain that coursed through his body refocused his attention away from his mostly healthy wife. Further, those sensations kept yanking him from the comforting embrace of sleep whenever it drew near. So he simply laid there in silence, staring at the ceiling.
"You looked pale as a corpse, dad."
After what felt like hours, his exhaustion overwhelmed his pain, and his consciousness slipped. The last image in his mind was not of his beautiful wife or his adorable children or even of his own aching body, but rather of the little girl he'd remembered the defiled corpse of earlier that day.
Subaru's eyes fluttered open after quite a while, his conscious mind taking its time to start up. He simply layed in bed for several minutes, staring up at the ceiling with a blank expression.
But soon enough, the gears in his head began to turn and his consciousness fully returned to him. He sat up, only to be immediately greeted by an overwhelming lethargy.
His whole body was terribly sore, and he felt no less exhausted than he did last night. But he ignored these facts, turning and planting his feet on the floor beside the bed in a habitual motion.
His leg itched and ached, both to an unbearable degree. He reached his hands out and rolled up his right pant leg to find—
His entire calf was blackened and sickly, with darkened veins spreading out from a sort of epicenter and covering the remainder of his leg.
Subaru stared down, numb. He couldn't process what he was seeing; it was so revoltingly different from his normal leg that his mind hesitated to even consider it a part of his body anymore.
He was at a loss for words.
And then he heard a light cough from behind him, which sent a horrible chill down his spine.
Turning, the black haired man saw his wife now sitting up in bed. But…
"Subaru-kun?" she said, her voice hoarse.
His eyes were fixed on her neck, where the same black veins had taken root.
The world was spinning around him unbearably fast, the heat of the sun felt unbearably hot, and the chill of the breeze felt unbearably cold. Every part of his body felt wrong, like his every organ, bone, muscle, cell, everything had been put in the wrong place only to all malfunction at the same time. He couldn't think straight, let alone walk straight, and yet…
He marched on forward, even when saddled with this unbearable pain and disorientation.
He had to. For his family, for the ones he loved.
Each step against the light breeze felt like his legs were pushing through thick tar, and each breath of the fresh morning air made his lungs burn inside, like he'd been inhaling nothing but ashy smoke. The spinning world he saw was blurred and distorted; the cobbles on the road growing increasingly unrecognizable. Subaru didn't even know if he was going in the right direction anymore, or in really any particular direction. He just knew he couldn't stop, never stop.
Besides, that wrongness, that unbearable state of existence, he had felt it once before, years before.
The sound of chains, a darkened hallway, feelings of panic and betrayal…
Subaru shook his head—his senses reeling at the action—and cleared those decades old thoughts out of his mind. He pressed on forward regardless. He had to find a healer, and no amount of sickness or trauma or weakness would stop him.
"Natsuki-san?" someone said. He couldn't make out the voice.
Subaru looked up, or what he thought was up. He saw familiar tufts of greying red fur, with eyes hidden within. It took him a short moment, but he realized that the person was a merchant he knew, the one Rigel bought something from the day before… one he was two heads taller than. And yet… he was looking up at him? That didn't make any sense.
"Oh, wait…"
He tried to clench his fists; he felt stone instead.
"I'm on the ground…"
"Are you okay?" the person asked, looking down at him.
"Yes," he wanted to answer. His mouth opened, the word launched from his mind, but his body was wrong. So he coughed right in their face. They visibly flinched and stepped back at the action.
"I'm sorry," he wanted to say. He raised his arms to… well, it didn't matter what. They didn't actually move up more than an inch before he collapsed. And so, Natsuki Subaru lost consciousness in the middle of the street on a mostly normal spring morning in Banan.
Above the rousing city, with clear blue skies and a light breeze blowing, a lone figure dashed upon the rooftops. There was no sound of scraping or clanking or even shifting as he took his steps on tile after tile. He traveled as silently as he could, leaving no evidence of his presence wherever he went, just as his master had taught him.
And Rigel sorely missed his master at that moment.
When he got out of bed, expecting a normal day like any other, he was greeted by the sight of his mother barely holding herself up against the walls in the halls of their house. He immediately moved to help her, but stopped short upon seeing the blackened skin across her neck.
His master taught him to never be too careful.
And so he conjured a small, simple wind spell over himself, one that constantly shifted the air an inch above his skin to, as his father put it when he suggested the idea years ago, 'quarantine' himself. His mother noticed him shortly after and hastily explained the situation. Rigel was hesitant to leave her, but went dashing out of the house regardless.
And so he ran, his horn long since summoned, scanning every road on the way to their preferred healer's place of work.
His eyes moved past merchants setting up their shops, laborers heading to work, and school children running to class. None were his father though, with his unique black hair, terrifying eyes, and unusual mannerisms. So he kept searching, dashing from rooftop to rooftop.
"Damn it," Rigel muttered, leaping over yet another ledge. He couldn't believe that he wanted to see his father make another stupid pose at that moment.
"I swear, once we get through this, I'll—" And it was then that he spotted a large crowd gathering around a spot on the roadside.
He maneuvered his way to the building overlooking the scene, and gazed down at the occurrence. Well over a dozen figures stood a few paces from a collapsed man on the road. The person looked pale and sickly, so much so that Rigel froze up at the sight. And worse, that man had the black hair and mean looking eyes of his father but…
His skin had gone a charcoal color in places and pale everywhere else. He was visibly coated in sweat, even at the distance Rigel was standing at. His usually full of youthful energy expression was full of pain and discomfort instead, even while seemingly unconscious. Frankly, even for the bratty boy who hated his father's guts, the sight was haunting.
But he had to shake off that shock, just as his master taught him. All the techniques he was taught, all the curses he'd learned, they'd inevitably produce results akin to these whenever the day came that Rigel had to put them into practice, the day that Rigel had to kill someone.
In the past, the thought of using all of Halibel's shinobi techniques in a real fight excited the half-oni but now… now he hoped to never need to if this is the sort of thing it caused.
But this was no curse, couldn't be. His father was just sick, that's it. Nothing to be worried about. And yet…
Rigel jumped down from the rooftop and landed on the road below. Wordlessly, he sent a gentle billow of wind to push the onlookers back; no one else would get sick on his watch.
He silently scooped his father's body into his arms—well, an inch above his arms—and immediately began making his way back home.
"Shitty dad… can't even get a healer without being too old and weak to get all the way there… had to collapse on the road like those grandpas you work with…" he muttered, running along the edge of a particularly steeply slanted rooftop.
Rigel waited for his dad to send a witty remark back his way. None came.
The half-oni ran faster.
The Natsuki family had moved into their current home about five years ago, but not out of necessity like most families do. Before then, they had no issues with finances nor problems with neighbors. Their old home was easy to aquire, spacious, close to both Rem and Subaru's places of work; it was seemingly the ideal place to raise a family. But… it was gotten via a favor on Subaru's part, and he had wanted to stop "leaching on others' goodwill for once", as he put it.
And so they moved. For over half of Spica's life now—Rigel often framed events to be relative to relevant things regarding his sister, often her birth—they had lived in a medium-sized townhouse stuck in the far western corner of Banan.
It was much like all the other buildings in the city—constructed in what Subaru called the 'wafuu' style, but what everyone else called the 'Kararagi' style. Slanted and tiled roofs, numerous sliding screen doors, a simple and down to earth design—it was as typical as a building could get.
Of course, Natsuki Subaru's existence was one that defied the word 'typical' at any and every opportunity, and the style and decoration of their home was no exception to this. Amongst the calligraphy hung up on the walls and the stylized vases placed through the halls were just as many Vollacian-style wooden items like clocks and dressers, as well as uniquely Gustecan boreal wood carved sculptures—all of which Rigel could never figure out his father's source for, despite his best searching efforts. There were even strange things Subaru had constructed himself, to mix results, like the makeshift fire stone-powered heater that had nearly burned down the house once; it sat unused in the dining room as a reminder to not let the black haired man 'experiment' unsupervised ever again.
The one thing Rigel never once spotted in their house was anything of Lugunican style. He knew, having eavesdropped on a small handful of his parents' conversations, that they had come from there before settling down in Kararagi, so he never understood why they wouldn't find comfort in that sort of familiarity. Sure, they had some sort of dark, depressing past they'd run away from… but Rigel reasoned that had he moved to another country to never return to Kararagi, he'd want mementos of home in his house.
But none of these thoughts were on the half-oni's mind at the moment, and he would make no progress to a conclusion even if they were. He was too worried, too focused, too incredibly anxious. How could he possibly make headway on something he'd gotten no closer to an answer to since he first heard his mother say the words "elder sister"?
For now, though, he focused on what was right before him as he stood in his parents' room.
The room was sizable, and yet quite cozy for two people. With how it was laid out, any observer would be able to tell at a glance that the occupants had a healthy, loving relationship. Each side of the bed was flanked by a dresser, but the room was not at all segregated or split in half. The bed was visibly worn down and breaking in places—a fact Rigel pointedly tried to ignore. And there were no books or desks or anything in the room dedicated to individual activity besides dressers and wardrobes. It was clear that Rem and Subaru spent their mornings together, focused on each other as they dressed and freshened up, and stepped out of the room side by side every day.
But today was not one of those days. His parents were both still laying in bed, neither of them with a smile on their faces. A sheen of sweat coated their seemingly unconscious forms, a dim light struggled to assert itself in the gloomy room, and if Rigel could smell normally—his quarantine spell serving to negate most scents beside his own—he was sure that his parents would reek of that same terrible, rotting stench that wafted off many of the compost bins in town.
"I've… I've never seen anything like this…" the man standing at the bedside said, inspecting the blackened infection that had spread to Subaru's arm.
"I thought you were being an idiot like your father, but you were right to bring me here as fast as possible, Rigel," he continued, not taking his eyes off his patient for even a moment.
The man was the old magic user his family had known since they'd come to Kararagi. Apparently, he was present for both his own and his sister's births. Often a rude and witty man, Rigel had never heard his name spoken by the old magic user before. And the serious element in his voice sent an even deeper silent terror into the blue haired young man's heart, deepening the grimace that had taken hold of his expression.
"Her condition is more advanced than his, despite him having been sick for longer and her stronger oni blood…" the old man muttered, glancing back and forth between the unconscious couple.
"Ah, so that's it… she's an idiot too, then…" he decided, standing up straight and his narrowed eyes relaxing.
"What?" Rigel asked.
"Your mother had been subconsciously pouring mana into him throughout the night," he replied, still inspecting his patients, "thus staving off the worst effects of the ailment."
"What is even wrong with them, doctor?" Rigel didn't even try to put up a toughened persona; the worry was clear in his shaking voice.
"Well… they have the symptoms of some sort of plague…" He glanced at Rem's neck. "With the transmission of the disease clearly being airborne but…"
"But?"
"Well, they're too ill," the healer explained, frowning. "No disease I know of could do this. It's almost like the strength is being constantly tapped from their bodies at all times…"
"Like a curse?" Rigel muttered, processing the strange diagnosis.
"What was that?" The healer's attention immediately snapped to the half-oni, his eyes leaving Rem and Subaru for the first time since he'd entered the room.
The old magic user's gaze was intense, and powerful—akin to how Rigel's master occasionally seemed when discussing particularly delicate matters. Every ounce of the healer's attention was fixated on him, inspecting his every aspect as if he himself was a patient.
"I—" Rigel was taken aback by the pressure suddenly placed upon him, struggling to formulate a response under the watch of those eyes.
"I just thought that that sounded like the effects of a curse. You know, constant mana drain leading to weakness and, in the case of prolonged curses, even death…" he recited, repeating the phrasing Halibel had used time and time again.
"Damn it, I wish that idiot were here…" the healer muttered, his sights returning to the couple, a wave of relief washing over the blue-haired man in turn.
"I'm no expert in it like that idiot that taught you, but a disease and a curse working in conjunction would explain this. And yet…" He bit down on his lip.
"And yet?" Rigel prompted, refocusing on the matter at hand.
"How could a shaman have cursed her?" He extended his wrinkly finger and pointed to Rem.
"I can understand someone getting this idiot when he wasn't paying attention…" He pointed at Subaru. "But she'd be much more mindful of such things."
Rigel thought for a quick moment before replying, "And mom could have only gotten cursed in the evening. I was with her all day and noticed nothing wrong until this morning."
"So who could have possibly cursed her?" the healer thought aloud. "No one but your direct family would have had the opportunity to…"
"My family…?"
Rigel closed his eyes in thought, and recalled one of Halibel's earlier lessons.
"What'll you teach me today, Uncle Halibel? I've already mastered Substitution, so what's next?"
Halibel took a deep drag from his golden kiseru.
"Curses."
Rigel perked up with interest, but was shot down with a glare from his mentor.
"The basics and only the basics."
The half-oni pouted, but swiftly relented, silently waiting for Halibel to elaborate.
"The fundamental property of many curses is the—"
"Constant mana drain leading to weakness and, in the case of prolonged curses, even death, I know. Tell me something new!"
Halibel sighed. "I wonder if Su-san would be happy that his kid can say that with a smile on his face…"
He shook off that thought and continued, "Well, yes, you're right. But there is only one rule that is true for ALL curses, and it is not that one."
"There are curses that don't function by a constant mana drain?" Rigel asked, sceptical.
"I'll teach you them later, but for now, shut up and listen. This is important."
He took another drag from his kiseru.
"The universal rule of curses is the requirement for physical contact for them to be cast."
RIgel processed his words for a moment before replying, "But don't you curse people at a distance with your kunai? Doesn't that break that rule?"
Halibel adopted a smug smile. "Ah, you see, Rigel, I didn't break that rule at all. I simply infused my weapons with pieces of my own body."
"What?! Really?! How?!" Rigel perked up once more and barraged his mentor with questions.
"You know how much an old wolf like me sheds? I had to use those hairs for something…"
A smile flickered onto his face for a short moment at that memory, before leaving just as quickly as it came. He had to focus now, not reminisce.
Halibel had later explained further that he'd tried to use something smaller than tiny strands of his own hair, but found nothing to do so with any efficacy. He simply knew of nothing as small and convenient as his own hair to use.
But… Rigel knew of something smaller, even if he never had the chance to mention it to the Eternal Playboy. And it was with that something that his gut told him the answer to this crisis laid.
"Wake up my dad," Rigel said to the old magic user, "I need to ask him something."
The healer shot him a questioning glance for a short moment, but then smiled at the look on the boy's face. He turned to the black haired man, placed his wrinkly hands on a clear spot of his skin, and closed his eyes.
He then immediately opened them, frowning.
"You lazy idiot, you're making me look as stupid as you for thinking you were asleep."
Subaru groaned and then replied, his voice incredibly hoarse and weak, "Heh, gets them every time."
"You were awake this whole time?" Rigel asked, surprised, "Why didn't you say anything?"
"Conserve energy… need knowledge for next time…" Subaru answered, unmoving.
"Next time?" Rigel mumbled, but swiftly shook off the question. "Anyway, describe those tiny little prisons in people again, dad."
"Prisons?" Subaru said, confused.
"You know, those parts of people that are so small that no human or demihuman or really any eye could possibly see them, but they're what make up the whole body," Rigel elaborated, hating how stupid the idea sounded when he said it out loud.
"Ah… cells… you mean cells…" Subaru replied, some tension leaving his expression.
"Whatever," he dismissed his father's correction. "Didn't you say that they were related to disease somehow?"
"Yeah… Germ Theory…" Subaru frowned. "Stupid fantasy world…"
"Dad?"
He focused once more and explained, "There are little cells that have lives of their own, and sometimes they exist to use your body to reproduce… like a parasite, only much smaller."
"What is that idiot talking about? I've never heard of that before," the healer remarked, dumbfounded by the explanation.
"Wait, wait, wait… so disease can be caused by these little prisons—"
"Cells," Subaru corrected.
"—these little cells. And can also sometimes be really small parts of a much bigger body?"
Rigel's eyes went wide.
"By Hoshin's good name…"
A conclusion formed in his mind.
"Someone is using the cells that cause this disease as a vector to spread the curse."
The old man's look of scepticism hardened at Rigel's theory.
"That's… very far-fetched… but if that idiot is right about disease then yes that could very well be the cause."
Rigel somewhat ignored the healer's commentary and continued theorizing, "And any person who came into contact with you, dad, could have been cursed if even one of these cells got onto or into their body."
The half-oni breathed an anxious sigh.
"Good thing I put up this wind barrier or else I would have been cursed myself. Spica would—"
Rigel froze for a moment. And then the room was illuminated in a soft light as his horn emerged in an instant. Rigel pivoted on his feet, and sprinted straight through the door, tearing a massive hole in it.
Rigel ran upon the city's rooftops once more, this time much faster and without hiding his movements. The tiles didn't just make noise with every step, they completely shattered, firing small chunks of slate in every direction. The noise of his sprint must have run out for at least a kilometer, but he didn't give a damn if anyone saw him.
He had to get to his sister.
He glanced down to the streets below, and spotted dozens of individuals with the same blackened marks on their necks dispersed through the crowd. The man who sold them appas, the fisherman who'd taught Rigel when he was young, the lizard man who'd gotten his father his first job—all infected, all doomed to the same fate as his parents, all doomed to suffer prolonged, painful deaths.
Images of every person with those terrible black marks along their skin filled his mind, all bed-ridden. Their families, their coworkers, their customers, anyone they came into contact with on a daily basis, anyone and everyone important to their lives—all would die that way.
Just as that thought extended to his own sister, Rigel grit his teeth, banished that line of reasoning from his mind, and ran even faster.
And less than a minute after he left home, he arrived at Temple Elementary School.
It was a rather stout building, seeming oddly small despite being larger than everything around it. It was two stories tall, colored a creamy white, and had a large number of windows on both floors.
Temple Elementary was almost a second home to Rigel for many years, and he knew its layout like the back of his hand. So it took him no time at all to locate where Spica's classroom would be at this time of day from outside the building.
He burst straight through the wall with his wind magic, not caring for any damages, and scanned the room in a mere second.
His eyes landed on where Spica's seat was. It was empty. The students were staring at him, stunned. He didn't care.
Rigel glanced at the teacher. She too had those black marks on her neck, and her hands were whitened from the grip she held on her lectern. All these kids were in danger, including Spica.
Swiftly throwing up a wind wall to divide the classroom, Rigel gave no further concern to the class he'd intruded on, and ran deeper into the building without another word.
He dashed into the hall, making a sharp left turn before arriving outside the girls' bathroom. It was the only other place she could be.
His magic ripped the door apart and he marched straight into the room. And then his heart sank.
Lying on the bathroom floor, motionless, was a young girl with pretty black hair.
Rigel knelt down beside her.
She too had those black markings coating her skin.
Subaru felt strength returning to him, the wrongness receding like the tides pulling back from the shore, yet not going far enough away to be considered truly gone.
"You know, idiot, I can't pull that same trick as your son…"
The healer stood above him, his hands placed on Subaru's blackened arm.
"The second I got carried into this room, I was doomed."
Subaru wanted to apologize to the man who'd helped his family so much while receiving damn near nothing in return. But the magic user spoke before he could object.
"It wouldn't have lasted forever anyway… I don't have an infinite supply of mana… but still, what a way to go, huh?" His voice was becoming strained, and sweat built up on his brow.
"I'm… sorry…" Subaru managed to mutter, the ability to speak returning to him. He'd thought his conversation with Rigel would've been his last.
"Don't be… you and your family… they gave me hope for something better in Banan…" Subaru felt the old man's hands shaking as he gripped his arm. "Hope that everyone could one day smile in Kararagi, and that none would have to be born slaves again…"
Subaru felt a wetness on his arm. He'd never seen the magic user cry before; he didn't even think he was capable of such a thing. It tore at Subaru's heart.
"It was a nice dream to have… thank you, Natsuki Subaru."
The man's grip weakened and then vanished. Subaru heard a soft thud; the old magic user had collapsed onto the ground. He summoned his newfound strength and reached for the man's neck but… he held no pulse.
"Damn it… why'd you do something like this for me?"
The sound of rushing wind snapped Subaru out of his thoughts. He looked up, retracted his hand, and saw Rigel stepping in through the hole he left in the door.
Subaru glanced at his son. He'd never seen the boy so distraught before. And he looked further down to find the cause; he saw Spica in Rigel's arms, unconscious and with the skin on her neck colored a charcoal black.
"Dad…" Rigel's voice was cracking. "What do I do? How can I make it stop?"
"Rigel, I—"
The boy snapped at his father, a tearful rage filling his expression, "YOU HAVE TO KNOW! YOU HAVE TO BE THE MAN OF THIS FAMILY, LIKE YOU ALWAYS SAY YOU ARE! I'M TOO WEAK TO SAVE THEM, BUT YOU CAN!"
Subaru's face scrunched up, and tears threatened to escape his eyes. His mouth opened in response, but he had no words to give to his son.
He had no words to calm him, sooth him, comfort him. He lacked an answer to that call, that same call he'd once fled from.
A pit of shame burned his insides with an even greater intensity than his sickness. No, this was a sickness all its own. A deadly disease of his own creation: guilt.
"I heard you and Mom talking once…" Rigel said, tears streaking down his face, intensifying Subaru's pain even further, "I heard she, she had a sister… and that you two ran away and let her die to have this family…"
A labored gasp came from the black-haired man's lips, and whatever tears had been building in his nasty eyes streaked downwards. His gaze shot itself down from Rigel's, and he struggled to push it back up.
That second sickness was heavy, every day he spent happy and away from those he abandoned it felt heavy. But knowing that Rigel too was aware of that choice of his, seeing that that guilt weighed down on yet another mind, Subaru's own shame doubled and then doubled again. He was a failure of a father to let his son know about his sins, let his son share in that pain, and not even be aware of his awareness.
"SO SAVE US!" Rigel yelled, ripping Subaru's attention away from his self-deprecating thoughts, "FIX THIS! OR, OR ELSE IT WAS ALL MEANINGLESS, RIGHT?!"
A tense silence filled the air, and Subaru had no way to break it. He was a failure of a man and a failure of a father. His wife and daughter were dying while his son was breaking down right in front of him. And he was powerless to do anything about it.
Useless, weak, worthless—those were the words that most defined Natsuki Subaru.
"At least… at least tell me who is responsible… if nothing else, give me something to do, someone to find, to fix all this…" Rigel begged his father. There were no thoughts of shame or dignity in his mind. He was a being of pure and utter desperation, of bargaining. And it was all Subaru's fault, for a boy so sweet, for a man so promising, to have fallen so low.
"Please, dad…"
The black-haired man thought back, thought as hard as he could. If he couldn't do anything to help his son, he could at least answer one simple question. What was unique about his case compared to the others? What made him patient zero? What was—and then it came to him.
Spica's neck was blackened, as was Rem's. In his case and in his case alone did the infection start at his leg.
"Yesterday…" Subaru began, his strength fading with each passing second, "Yesterday afternoon, I gave an old beggar the appas I bought… he's the only one I can think of who could've done this…"
"Really? What did he look like?" Rigel pleaded, a twisted hope burning in his eyes.
"Human, old, tired, and full of guilt, with nearly no hair left on his head."
Rigel turned around at that description and dashed back out with Spica in his arms. Subaru was left alone in the room. Alone with his thoughts, a dead man, and his dying wife.
He felt useless. No, that word didn't do it justice, did not describe the magnitude of his failure. Subaru was actively harmful to those he cared for, actively hurting everyone he'd ever tried to protect.
The true illness that infected Banan was neither the curse nor his guilt; it was Subaru himself.
He tried to get up, to shove himself up and out of bed to help his son, but couldn't muster the strength. Even that much was beyond him. His breathing was uneven and phlegm was building in his lungs. He feared what would happen if he allowed his eyes to close for more than a second. Did he fear it, though? Perhaps Banan—no, the entire world would be a better place with him gone.
And then one word captured his full attention, brushing aside his every concern.
"Su… baru-kun…"
It was the first word to come from her in hours. He tried to turn to see her but couldn't move. Tears rolled down his face. It hurt to cry.
"I… love you, Subaru… kun…" Rem said, her voice barely more than a whisper.
"Rem would… not have… made a different… choice."
Subaru had to suppress the sound he made as he wept. It overpowered the noise of her final words, and he wouldn't allow that. If nothing else, his useless self could at least listen.
"Rem only hopes… our children can… live happily without… us."
Subaru's heart sank even further, breaking right past any previous low. She clearly hadn't processed the conversation with Rigel or Spica's presence, and her hope broke his heart.
"Rem regrets nothing… Rem will see… elder sister soon enough…"
She grew quiet.
"Rem?"
No response was given.
"Rem…"
He used his every ounce of will to reach for her hand. He would not allow it to end like this. He refused to allow himself to destroy this happy ending.
"Stay right there…"
His arm felt like it was pushing through tar but he eventually reached his goal. His determination was shaky yet strong; he'd do whatever it took.
"I swear…"
Her pale, dainty hand was limp in his grasp.
"I'll save you…"
And just like that, Natsuki Subaru lost his life, an insurmountable guilt and a fledgling yet burning resolve filling his heart.
Darkness. An unyielding void. An endless empty plane of nothing.
Naught but shadows surrounded him in every direction.
Him. Him.
He was what gave the void a sense of meaning, a goal for the shadows to pursue.
And so coming here—no, returning here. Being here after so long… the darkness quivered in excitement and pleasure.
But he could feel something beyond that elation, beyond that love.
He could feel a sort of sadness, a somber feeling.
And it was then that that feeling was given form, the shadows took shape, and that shape spoke words.
"…Love you."
He understood those words, cherished those words. Because he too felt those words.
"I love you."
He loved her too. He wanted nothing more than to stay with her forever and embrace her. But… he also loved something else? No, that couldn't be right. Who else could possibly deserve his love but her? Who else could possibly love him back as much as her?
Long blue hair, azure eyes, a smile of love that never faded.
"Ah…" he said. Rem could. Rem was the one he loved just as much, maybe more. And it was thoughts of Rem that consumed him as those shadows spoke once more.
"I love you… so you can't leave me… but…"
The shadows seemed… uncertain?
"I need you to make a choice, my beloved."
Beloved. Oh how hearing that word made him feel joy. But those thoughts of Rem too made him feel disgust at those words. It was a terrible contradiction. He did not, could not understand it.
"You could go back… all the way back… back to when you ran away."
Those words froze him. He felt fear at those words. The image of an orange-haired girl with vacant holes for eyes lingered in his mind. Through his fear he thought, "But I could save them all that way. I could fix all that I broke."
"Or…" she continued.
Or? OR? What other choice could even make sense? He could go back and make things right, fix it all, repair it all, be Diligent.
"Or you could stay here… stay with them…"
Disdain filled her voice.
"Stay with her…"
Her… Her? Oh. Rem. He could stay with Rem. Stay with his family. Fight for them. Live with them. Be happy with them.
"Rem… stay right there…"
"What do you choose, my beloved?" the shadows asked. "Do you choose to go back… or stay?"
He could feel her hatred of that second option. He knew the good he'd do by taking the first.
"Stay," he said.
He couldn't bring himself to answer 'go'. That love he held for Rem, that love equal or perhaps even greater than his love for these shadows… he could not abandon it.
"I swear… I'll save you…"
He could not abandon yet another promise.
"I love you," she replied.
And then the void went quiet once more. He held no regrets.
Subaru's eyes snapped open to the familiar ceiling of his room. He jolted out of bed, his breathing frantic and rapid.
He instantly looked over to Rem. She was breathing, calmly laying just beside him. But he couldn't make much out in the darkness.
He took a deep breath, taking comfort in the fact that it didn't take effort to do any longer, and moved his legs over to the side of the bed.
But… his leg itched.
A chill ran down his spine and his blood ran cold. He slowly pulled his pant leg up.
He saw, yet again, his leg covered in a black rash.
Author's Note: Major thanks to Bob and Ben for their help with this chapter and the ones to come. Without them, this project wouldn't have even gotten off the ground really. (Especially since I have big plans for what's to come.)
Merry Christmas everyone, and I hope that this serves as an adequate present.