The Natsuki household usually woke up at consistent times. Firstly, Rem almost always started her days at the very crack of dawn, often cooking breakfast for her children before going about her own business. However, on occasion, she would cook breakfast the night before and leave it out in the kitchen, all packed up and ready to be grabbed in a rush. Coincidentally, Rem would no longer wake up so early on such mornings—never quite walking straight, her movements noticeably labored, and an elated smile that lasted for hours plastered on her lips. Spica seemingly never thought to question this, while Rigel desperately forced his mind to not think about it.
Secondly, Subaru would wake up, only a minute or so after his wife, claiming that he 'can't sleep without my cute wife in my arms!' He'd proceed to go about his morning duties alongside her, happy to spend as much time with Rem as he could. Of course, on those odd random mornings where Rem got up late, Subaru would be the one to leave their room first, albeit seeming somewhat tired and drained as compared to his usual self even if no less happy, and almost always sporting something to cover his neck—often a popped collar or scarf. Spica would occasionally ask why he'd wear scarves in the middle of the summer, but Rigel knew damn well that it wasn't a bold fashion statement.
Thirdly, Rigel would rouse within half an hour of his parents doing the same. For many years, he was a notoriously heavy sleeper that only Rem could manage to wake up, but ever since Spica's birth, that changed. Rigel's senses, even while asleep, had been sharpened to such a degree that he could get up at a moment's notice if his duty as a brother and son required it. Unfortunately, he'd hear… things… throughout certain nights… most nights, really… and instead decided to make a habit of taking long evening walks. He was thankful that his parents sent him over to a friend's house for many years. Were it not for Spica, he'd probably try to do it nightly.
The final core member of the Natsuki family, however, did not fit her relatives' habits. Some days she'd wake up even before Rem and silently lounge in the living room for the entire early morning. Some days she'd wake up a full hour after Rigel did, only just barely getting to school on time.
And on this particular morning, Spica had woken up first among her family. She wandered into the kitchen, and noted the lack of an already prepared breakfast. Normally, such an occurrence would merit waiting for her mother to wake up, but the half-oni arbitrarily decided against it. Instead, she simply snacked on some fruit available in the kitchen, got dressed, and made her way out of the house.
Rigel, while still asleep, had briefly woken up at the sounds Spica made navigating and leaving their home. But considering that she wasn't in danger and seemed to be content alone, he remained in bed, promptly falling back asleep when his sister left for school.
In years past, he'd accompany her on that journey, talking casually to his sister as they went along. And when he'd graduated from school, he'd sometimes follow at a distance on the rooftops, trailing her for the whole morning. Only when she confronted him about it, catching an inconsistency in his recollection of his day, did he stop what Subaru and her had called 'stalking'.
It was then that Rigel most missed his mentor, Halibel. If only the Eternal Playboy could teach him how to sustain clones for longer so that he could have an alibi and keep an eye on Spica simultaneously…
But as Rigel's barely conscious self idly pondered that lingering thought, a wailing shout jolted him out of the comforting recesses of his own mind and into the shallows of reality once more.
"RIGEL!"
The sun had only barely made it over the horizon, its rays struggling to edge their way into the Natsuki residence. Many found themselves landing upon walls, doors, furniture… but a select few found themselves illuminating the sole conscious figure standing in that particular hall.
His hair was a pure black, unsullied by the greying and aging hairs one would expect from a man such as himself. His signature grey kimono hung upon him like a second skin, seeming totally fitting on the foreign man after nearly two decades of adjustment. And his sanpaku eyes were as piercing and nasty as ever, only sharpened by age.
But on this seemingly normal morning, they were especially focused, hardened by something more than just time.
Natsuki Subaru was very much afraid of death. Like most people, he was scared of it more than anything in the world. But Subaru was also very much unlike those other people; for Subaru, death didn't have the same meaning as it did for others.
Death meant the end. However, for Subaru, death wasn't the end.
It was the beginning of hell.
And it was that very hell that he'd run away from oh so many years ago that returned to him once more. It was that very hell that acted as a grindstone for his piercing glare, intensifying his mean look to never before seen levels. It was that very hell that brought him to this point, to this necessary action.
"RIGEL!" he shouted, shattering what little serenity remained in the surrounding atmosphere.
He then waited, his arms crossed, allowing that call to linger in the air, filling the hall more than the feeble light of the morning sun ever could.
"Jeez, what's got you so bothered so early?" a voice responded from a short ways down the hall.
A door slid open, and out walked the summoned boy, his eyes tired but similarly nasty to his father's. He was slouched over, heavy bags clear on his face, and exhaustion plain in his posture and expression. The young man was barely awake.
"Rigel, I'm sick. Quarantine yourself," Subaru ordered, stern.
The half-oni glanced up at his father's expression, a witty retort forming at the tip of his tongue.
"What? You getting too old to keep up with your responsibilities now, Dad?" he would say, and then spend a minute bantering with his old man.
But when he met those hazel eyes with his own, all his thoughts froze.
Rigel had thought he'd seen his father upset before. He had thought he'd seen his father at his most passionate before.
Rigel was wrong on both accounts.
"Now," Subaru demanded, declaring it in a way Rigel was totally unprepared for.
That single word accompanied by the expression his father held, it scared the half-oni. It scared him enough that he immediately activated his wind magic without question.
Adrenaline released itself into his veins, his breathing grew tense, and a cold sweat would have coated his body if not for his magic. But beyond everything else, a single phenomenon captured Rigel's attention to a nearly total degree: he just couldn't tear his gaze from his father's eyes.
Everyone had called them nasty, everyone had said they'd give a terrible impression, and even Rigel had vocally cursed his own nasty eyes that he'd gotten from his father.
But his mother had never once upheld this sentiment. Rem had always praised those eyes, adored those eyes, loved those eyes. Rem genuinely valued them, and had made Rigel grow to accept those eyes with her constant affirmations; had made Rigel understand the kindness his father's expression always held.
But what he saw now, the eyes on his father's face… they were truly nasty. They were filled with equal parts hate and determination, equal parts grief and resolve. And he could sense not a drop of kindness left in them. They were ugly.
"These aren't the eyes Mom loves…"
"I need you to pay very careful attention, Rigel."
The young man heeded those words. He would listen like his life depended on it. And as he would soon learn, it very much did.
"Look here," Subaru said, pulling up his pant leg.
Rigel's gaze hesitantly left Subaru's eyes, like how a gazelle would be apprehensive to remove its gaze from a lion. It traveled downwards, and found a sight that brought him physical revulsion.
His father's leg was coated in charcoal black—no, the leg itself was charcoal black. His veins were pronounced, bulging and twisting across the limb. The darkness spread out from those slithering protrusions, giving an impression that could lead to no other conclusion but—
"Like I said, I'm sick."
Sick. Sick wasn't the half of it to Rigel. Subaru's leg was diseased, plague-ridden. It seemed almost like he was about to—
"It's going to kill me if nothing is done."
Rigel's sights jumped back up. Did he hear that right?
"And if it spreads, it will kill everyone in Banan."
Oh, he had heard that right.
"Your mother is also infected," Subaru's voice shook for the first time in the interaction. Uneasy didn't even come close to describing the man's tone. Rigel's terror must have shown on his face; Subaru forced a fake smile. But the half-oni could tell it was a lie; those eyes were still terrifying.
"Don't worry, I'm sure we'll figure out a way to fix this."
Rigel believed those words. He had to, even if it was obvious in his voice that Subaru himself didn't.
"But forget about it for now, I have a task for you." The fake smile vanished. Subaru gestured once more to his leg.
"These markings are the easiest to spot symptoms of the disease. For anyone but me, it'll appear on the neck." Subaru lowered his pant leg once more, but the sight of it didn't leave Rigel's mind.
"Rem already has it on her neck," his father said. Were his tone not full of self-hating already, Rigel might have lashed out and blamed him.
"Everyone else in the city should be fine, but there is one person I am uncertain about."
Both pairs of sanpaku eyes met.
"Find Spica."
And without another word, or a second thought, Rigel vanished from the hall, leaving naught but a gust of wind behind.
Subaru stood still for a long moment after his son practically vanished before his eyes. He said his daughter's name, there was a blur of movement, a gust of wind, and then he was alone.
He turned and walked a few steps before stopping short, his gaze landing on an ornamental knife. It was an ornate blade, made more for ritual than for combat, but was no less sharp than any of their kitchen knives.
He reached for the blade, wrapping his fingers around its highly decorated handle. More than the winding and interlocking design that asserted itself on the knife, picking it up from the dresser it laid upon, Subaru felt a distinct cold sensation as he held it in his hand.
It was an awful chill, one terribly reminiscent of the gift that was held within.
Unsheathing the knife, allowing the metal to gleam in the morning light, Subaru found himself lost in thought.
With the onset of his ailment's disorientating and weakening symptoms, he thought for a moment that he hallucinated the whole conversation, perhaps even more than that. But this was no hallucination, no illusion.
His memories of death were all too real. And worse, those of his family's deaths were too.
He thought aloud, turning the knife and admiring its intricate design, "I was an idiot last time, to march out, infect the whole town, and die for no good reason."
"For no good reason…"
That phrasing lingered in his mind. Was there really a good reason to die?
"you and your family… they gave me hope for something better in Banan…"
Subaru gripped the knife's handle harder. A dull mist spread across the metal as the heat from his sickly body poured into the blade.
"Hope that everyone could one day smile in Kararagi, and that none would have to be born slaves again…"
"Yes," he decided, accepting the chill that emanated from his hand.
"If that old fart had a good reason to die, then so do I."
He sheathed the blade once more, and hid it within a large pocket he'd sewn into his kimono years ago. It was meant to hide props and gifts, to surprise family and friends with something to make their day, but all it held now was the gift of death—a present only he could truly appreciate the full magnitude of.
Accepting that cold sensation that now lingered upon his chest, Subaru continued towards his nearby door. Sliding it open with a calm yet steeled determination, he looked upon his unconscious wife with the same expression he had regarded Rigel with mere minutes ago.
"I swear." He stepped into the room, a prickling itch stabbing into his leg once more. "I'll save you, save everyone."
The Natsuki residence, given its current location, was not too far from Banan's city limits. In most urban centers, this would indicate a transition to lower income neighborhoods and even, like in the Lugunican capital, the slums.
But Banan was not like most urban centers.
Just outside the city's western-most side, across the wall that marked the boundary between Banan and the rest of Kararagi, laid the Wastes. Now, the Wastes sounded ominous, and Subaru himself was fearful of ever venturing into them for many years, but they were actually relatively harmless.
The Wastes were a vast, stretching plane of dry land that, in the long distant past and according to legend, had once been a desolate place where only the sun and sand could survive. It was said throughout Kararagi that Hoshin was born of the Wastes, molded from those very sands themselves, and that he could thus control both it and the dry desert winds that reigned there with a mere thought.
According to those same legends, Hoshin was the one to unite Kararagi's disparate kingdoms, instill its people with their mercantile spirit, and then finally tame the Wastes at the cost of his own life, forever ending the reign of sand and sun over the land, and allowing free travel between the great cities.
All that remained of this monumental divider of peoples was it's terrifying name and—
Subaru glanced up as he ran, the world once again beginning to twist and turn around him. Each breath was labored, like that of a runner in the middle of a marathon, and that itching of his leg evolved into a piercing pain, as if a series of tiny, spiral needles were stabbing into him with each step he took. But he was determined and focused, enough to block out those nagging sensations for the time being—the same feelings that had brought him to collapse and unconsciousness in the previous loop.
Before him, he saw a dilapidated wall of varying height, but no more than a meter tall at this particular section. It was a stoney structure, stark grey and covered in twisting and turning vines that stretched as far as the wall itself did. This was the unnatural marker of the city limits, and the indicator of the barren Wastes that laid beyond… or so he had once thought.
A flash of light came from the lower edges of his vision, and the world began to settle. His heart calmed and the heat he felt from the morning sun grew bearable, with even that itching subsiding—becoming a mere intense need to scratch than anything overtly painful. Looking down, he could see the reason why.
In his arms, Rem laid still, having not stirred nor spoken even once since he'd taken her and sprinted out of the house. He could see now, looking upon her sleeping face, that her horn had emerged and she was once again pumping mana into his system, staving off the worst effects of his ailment.
He frowned, knowing that this unconscious act of his wife would only shorten her own time. Instead of complaining or stopping her, he decided to face forward once more, and hop over the structure in his way.
It was awkward, crossing the wall with his wife still held in his arms and with fatigue nipping at the edges of his psyche, but he managed it. Taking a moment to catch his breath, falling to his knees on the craggy ground, he stole a glance at the opposite side of the structure.
The Wastes had clearly had an effect on the wall. Whilst the side facing the city was grey and full of life, the one he looked at now was a deep orange hue. Rather than many individual cobblestones being visible, the structure was largely one smooth surface; albeit heavily cracked. It was a jarring difference, and the only reason Subaru came to believe the legend of Hoshin.
Even if the modern day Wastes were no more hostile than Banan's city streets, only the harsher deserts of the past could have had such an eroding effect on these walls that stretched for kilometers.
Turning his head to follow the stoney structure, Subaru found himself disorientated. That wall that almost appeared to be sandstone, transformed in the distant past, it went on and on and on and—
He blinked, and then realized where his hand had moved. Leaving Rem's head to lay on the rough terrain, he'd unconsciously shifted it to itch at his calf as he knelt and lost himself in thought.
Tearing his hand away from his leg and cradling Rem closer to his chest once more, Subaru forced himself to stand up. He shook his head, grit his teeth, and turned his attention away from the now insignificant structure.
No reflections on history or city planning would help him save his family. No amount of distracted thinking could be allowed to cloud his mind and his judgment. He had to stay focused, perfectly so, lest the sleeping woman in his arms enter a permanent rest.
He looked upon the so-called Wastes, unimpressed. He'd seen them before, venturing off to this western end of Banan that no one seemed to ever go to, to want to go to. And he knew that this was the best place to go if he wanted to get away from people, to avoid infecting the whole town with his sickness again.
It was a helpful little coincidence to have the journey be so short; he doubted he could've carried Rem for any longer than he had.
But this time, looking out onto what felt like an endless, empty, flat plane devoid of life, searching for something—anything to direct his steeled determination towards, Subaru saw a figure in the distance.
He narrowed his nasty eyes and then saw, sitting on the ground with his legs crossed, the same old man he'd seen the day before, no more than fifty meters away.
Spica was an average girl, and this was an average morning. Last night was somewhat strange, with that odd conversation she had with her father before bed. She had almost let her pretending slip. But that didn't matter now. It was morning, and an average one at that.
Of course, the lack of breakfast was not the norm, but she'd survive with just some fruit in her belly until lunchtime. Cooking her own meal before school was certainly possible, but an average girl her age wouldn't really do that.
But what they did do was sit in class, bored as can be, daydreaming. So that's what Spica did. She walked to school, went through the motions, sat at her desk, and pointed her eyes towards the board to feign attention as they readily glazed over.
As the instructions of the teacher rapidly faded into a background buzzing, her unfocused mind jumped from random thought to random thought: the equations on the board she'd memorized at a glance and had to pretend to find difficult, planning out the remainder of her day, deciding on what she wanted to eat later… none were given more than a second of attention before moving onto something else. "Scatterbrained" was the word she'd use to describe it. Most girls her age were like that, and so was she.
Eventually, after some time, her mind landed on a familiar train of thought: her own average nature. Most girls said they wanted to be something special when they grew up: a seamstress, a princess, a housewife, etc. But this was obviously a ruse.
Her evidence? Spica never really considered any particular dreams or ambitions; she was far more focused on how to be as normal as possible. And since she herself was the pinnacle of average, surely all the other girls were the same way.
She may have been a half-oni, but her horn rarely emerged outside of when she wanted it to—and she rarely wanted it to. She may have had a teacher for a mother, but no awkward situations surrounding that ever came up. And she may have had a father everyone in town recognized, but she was often left alone by those same people.
Spica would forever assert that she was, among the strange members of her family, the only one that was truly normal.
And she was very much content with this, perhaps even proud of it. Unfortunately, her brother was not.
Her lips tilted downwards as she continued to zone out in class.
Rigel… Rigel was certainly someone Spica loved. He was her brother, he had done so much for her, and he was always there for her. But that same care and presence he gave to her, is what made her so… bleh… about him sometimes.
Spica was still a young girl of only eight years, and she could come up with no other word to describe that feeling of love mixed with apprehension other than just… bleh. She could probably read a dictionary and find some way to describe that feeling rather quickly, but average girls didn't read dictionaries. Average girls made up silly words to describe silly feelings. So that's what Spica did. And so Rigel was bleh.
When Rigel followed her to school everyday in the mornings before his daily responsibilities, it was bleh. When Rigel scared away any bully or male persons her age—who Rigel seemed to recognize as the same thing—it was bleh. And just yesterday, when Rigel seemed to hide away the gift he'd bought her after her father had already given her bunny ears, it was incredibly bleh.
Sometimes, Spica felt as though she was looking after Rigel more than the other way around. But she guessed that's how most girls felt about their obsessive older brothers. Perhaps Rigel's desire to make her out as someone special and treat her as such was average in its own way?
She sighed, lowering her sights from the board, instead choosing to zone out while staring at her desk instead.
Spica knew she herself was, in part, to blame for Rigel's behavior.
She was clever—of course, no more clever than the average girl, she'd assert—and used that talent to pretend to be more innocent than she was. Naturally, all the other girls did this too. They all did it so well, in fact, that it was hard for her to see the cracks in their pretending. They were so good at it that they were practically perfectly playing the role of being innocent girls.
She almost envied them, and their easy circumstances. Spica had managed to fool Rigel and her father into thinking she was a doll needing protection, which she was endlessly silently proud of doing, but…
Spica had never been able to fool her mother. In fact, she was certain that it was literally impossible to fool Rem; she was effectively omniscient in her eyes. The half-oni had tried once, though.
She raised her sights up, blankly staring at the teacher as she began her recollection.
On a particularly dreary day some time ago, perhaps a year or two prior, her aunt Tia had made a mess of the house with her wind magic. Of course, no one was hurt and all the issues surrounding that event died down and eventually vanished, but at that moment it was a bit of a miniature family crisis.
Now, like an average girl, Spica did not want to help clean up her auntie's mess. She'd do it if she were asked, which she was despite Rigel's protest, but she really didn't want to. The half-oni was clever, though, and gave the excuse of having to complete her homework for the next day, arguing that she couldn't finish it if she were cleaning for the whole evening.
Her father relented and gave in to this argument, allowing her to go off to work on it alone despite being the one to initially insist she help out. But her mother, well…
Only about five minutes later, Spica had finished the assignment she'd been given, clever as she was. But she still didn't want to go help. So she stayed and did one of her favorite hobbies: pretending. Just like she pretended to be an average girl—no, of course Spica wouldn't have to pretend to do that; she was an average girl, just pretending to be a little less clever. Regardless, she used her skills at pretending to pretend to keep working.
But no less than a minute into this effort, her mother came into the room as Spica fiddled with some equations in the corner of the page to pass the time.
"How is your homework going?" Rem had asked, kindly.
"It'll take a while longer, mother," Spica replied, pretending.
Then there was silence. Excellent. Spica had done it. She could stay here and—
A hand placed itself on her own, gentle. Spica stopped writing.
"You know, Spica," Rem started, drawing her daughter's gaze to her own.
"Everyone in this family is fanatical like a demon in their own way," she explained, her hand reaching for the homework papers.
"Rem is always working hard for this family, as is Subaru-kun." She took the papers off the desk and gently hugged them to her chest.
"Rigel is working hard for you and me and with Halibel-sama."
Rem placed a hand on Spica's cheek.
"But you, Spica, are fanatical like a very particular kind of demon, a smart demon. You're not quite like us. You're very special."
Spica frowned at this statement. She was an average girl, not some sort of smart, special girl.
"If I'm so special, mother," Spica started, defiance in her tone, "Then who did I get my fanaticism from, if I didn't get it from you or father?"
"From elder sis—" her mother cut off.
And Spica cut off her recollection as well. She didn't like to remember the face of grief her mother held after she had said that. An average girl like her shouldn't think about those sorts of things. An average girl shouldn't think about how her parents were obviously hiding several dark secrets.
An average girl shouldn't daydream about all the different ways her dead aunt could have been in life while blankly staring at the teacher in class.
And so Spica stopped doing that, as she was an average girl.
Unfortunately, what happened next would have never happened to an average girl.
With a loud BANG, the wall to the classroom blew open, and without sparing a glance, Spica already knew it was her brother.
"You bastard…"
The barren and craggy landscape of the Wastes was even more uniform and expansive than normal, the unobscured sun beamed against his back, Rem's body was heavier than ever, the itching once again panged at the edges of his psyche, and Subaru could already feel that he only had minutes left to live if he kept exerting himself.
And yet his rage propelled him forward, those eyes that intimated Rigel not yielding to any amount of fatigue, not when the object of their hate was so closeby.
Subaru took step after determined step, marching on over to the seated old man, the world blurring further with each one.
The loud, harsh cry of a bird resonated in the sky above, but he paid it no mind. He had a goal, one which he could not stop moving towards.
As he drew closer, a flash of white flew past his vision and a bird perched itself upon the man's shoulder.
Subaru paused at this, confused. He would have shaken off this confusion and continued his march had that emotion not shifted to shock and awe at what happened next.
The bird was nothing special at first glance, a simple white dove-like creature with beady eyes. But then the white of its feathers darkened, the sound of bones cracking sounded out through the Wastes, and in mere seconds, the bird was gone from the man's shoulder.
Standing just beside the still silent beggar was a bizarre-looking woman with blonde hair, red eyes, and various limbs that were distinctly not human.
And yet the most inhuman feature she had was the twisted smile on her face that stretched from ear to ear.
"SUP, MEATBAG!"
Tearing apart a wall was harder than it would seem at first glance. When Rigel was Spica's current age, he'd destroyed his first wall with wind magic. The paint ground into thin particles before becoming dust, the plaster followed suit, and the wooden frame along with the insulating material fragmented into a deadly, sharp shrapnel. Had Halibel not been present to instantly shield Rigel with his own body, the half-oni would have had his entire front side marred with the weaponized contents of said wall.
After a stern lecture from Rem and a short healing session, the pair of student and master spent the next week focused almost entirely on how to safely annihilate walls.
Within the first three, Rigel managed to learn how to focus his attack to a smaller area, thus naturally empowering the previously unconcentrated magic. With the shards and shrapnel ground into dust, the half-oni was no longer at risk of instantly blinding himself.
However, that same dust still immediately flowed out from the source area and would have invaded the boy's lungs had Halibel not bailed him out yet again. The next thing to learn was how to not give himself a nasty respiratory infection with every wall he destroyed.
After an additional four walls, Rigel learned how to expertly contort his wind magic's trajectory to blow that dust high up in the sky, where it would disperse and largely harmlessly fall back to the ground.
But even this was not good enough to Halibel, who argued that, if the winds were just right, it could conglomerate back together and find itself killing some elderly folks with pre existing respiratory issues kilometers away without Rigel even knowing. Of course, the chance of such an event was infinitesimally small, but Halibel repeated his motto of "never be too careful" and they got back to work.
After five more walls, making a total of a dozen destroyed during their practice sessions, Rigel had finally figured out the best way to do it. At first, he had attempted to simply manoeuvre the dust onto the ground around the attack instead of up into the air, but he quickly realized that it would just end up finding itself back in the air one way or another. So, Rigel had to be somewhat creative to finally settle on a technique.
And it was that same technique he used to break into Temple Elementary School.
Just outside the building, he activated his wind magic to obliterate a small section of the wall, grinding it into an incredibly fine dust. Afterwards, he reflexively and simultaneously ushered it towards himself while compressing it as tightly as possible. Within three seconds of his destroying the wall, a ball about twice as big as Rigel's head floated in front of him, lifted by the wind. He then swiftly guided it to the ground and allowed it to rest on the floor of the alley below, where it remained unmoving, before casually walking into the classroom like nothing unusual occurred.
Well, as casually as the overprotective siscon who'd just been told his sister may very well be in the process of dying could be.
"Big bro…"
His eyes snapped to the girl who spoke; she was the only one standing in the room and the only one not in shock. Her arms were crossed, her eyes were narrowed, and a deep pout adorned her face. The sight was dazzling to Rigel, but he had to focus.
The young man moved quickly to stand by his sister, seeming to almost teleport to all the onlookers. He intently inspected her neck, searching for any signs of discoloration. He found… nothing.
"So, are you going to explain what this is about?" she said, concern nipping at the edges of her tone.
He scanned the exposed section of her arms and legs, again finding nothing. He sighed, relaxing his tensed muscles.
Meeting her eyes, he said, "Mom and dad are sick, really sick."
Spica visibly tensed, and Rigel cursed himself for causing it. He turned his back to her, and knelt down.
"Hop on, we'll talk more at home."
Subaru was frozen in place. With the effects of his ailment worsening with each passing second, his first thought was that he'd hallucinated what he had just seen.
A bird had landed on the old man's shoulder and then turned into a scantily-clad evil-looking blonde woman with animalistic characteristics.
"Man… have I finally lost it?"
The woman frowned. "Huh, this meat really is spoiling fast. He thinks he can manage to imagine this lovely lady."
She stared at Subaru intently for a moment, before her sights shifted to the woman in his arms. He drew back, entirely on instinct, cradling Rem closer.
Her lips flipped upwards at an amazing speed and a laugh arose from her throat, "HAH! LOOK AT THESE MEATBAGS!"
She took a hand to grab the beggar's chin and raised his head to look towards Subaru.
"They think they know love better than this lovely lady. But they'll learn soon enough, won't they?"
"Y-yes, m-mama," the old man replied, visibly trembling.
The woman tore her gaze away from the couple and pointed it at the beggar. Her grip on his chin tightened.
"Oh?" Her smile grew even more malicious. "It seems this lovely lady has to give her newest child another special lesson once this is over."
She released the beggar and turned towards Subaru once more. The old man cried into his hands where he sat.
"Now then, meatbags." The evil in her smile was restrained, like a wolf whose jaw was just out of reach. "This lovely lady has got a deal for you."
Spica had gotten used to riding her brother's back at incredibly high speeds half-way through the first time she'd done it. In fact, she'd gotten used to all of Rigel's crazy magical abilities rather quickly and it was growing increasingly difficult for her to pretend otherwise, even with how good Spica was at pretending. After all these years, walls randomly vanishing in the middle of class, and blurs flying past accompanied by the feeling of wind gliding against her sides was all but normal.
She frowned at that thought. Her family was just so weird. Even with all of Spica's efforts to be as average as possible, she was slowly becoming weird herself. That influence—the normalization of the bizarre phenomena that surrounded her family—was what she assumed was the reason she couldn't pretend as well as everyone else. Surely, all the other girls her age just had it easier, pretending in front of their normal parents with normal behaviors and normal expectations.
Spica just had it harder. She wasn't special; her family was just weird.
But she cast that thought aside. She'd have plenty of time to muse at some later point. Right now, what Rigel had told her was far more pressing.
"Sick, really sick."
What exactly did that mean? She knew him for a bit of a worrywort, but… the way he carried himself, the way he said what he said, the way he disregarded literally everyone in the room but her…
And most of all, the way his attention immediately snapped back to their home once he ensured she was safe…
All this pointed to something being seriously wrong, wrong in a life-threatening way.
So, holding herself close to her brother's back, Spica's muscles contracted and a grimace settled on her face. Her fingers whitened with effort and her grip was as tight as she could manage. She knew Rigel could tell she was terrified now. Good, he'd fallen for yet another expertly executed bout of her pretending.
And yet… she didn't want to let go of him. Because, while she pretended that the ride was scaring her, she didn't have to do that for the news he'd delivered.
A dull pain prickled at his arms and back. He didn't need to look down to know she was clinging onto him with her full might.
Spica was scared… no, she was terrified.
Terrified because of him. The one person who should be bringing her the most comfort right now.
He focused his magic, expending extra effort to ensure the winds blasted harder against him and weaker against Spica. He wanted to just slow down, give her that little comfort. But he knew he couldn't. Not when their parents were apparently at death's door.
Luckily, the journey took no more than a few minutes.
His determined steps breaking every roof tile he set foot on, Rigel eventually found himself back home, standing in the very hallway he'd left his father in.
He knelt and Spica climbed her way back off of him. As soon as she was on her own two feet, Rigel used his magic to quarantine himself once more and ran straight into his parents' room, finding—
Nothing. No one. Just a bed he'd never seen messy before, and an atmosphere of pure dread lingering in the room.
Given the situation, it would be fair to assume that said atmosphere was a product of Rigel's anxiety-riddled mind. But with a powerful helping of oni blood running through the young man's veins, that mood, that feeling, that smell was anything but his imagination.
It was what his father constantly reeked of, the scent that had wafted off of him and no others for as long as Rigel could remember. It was more intense now than ever before, and—
He could smell its trail leading out of the house.
"A deal…?" Subaru muttered to himself.
The old man who probably caused this whole mess just casually sitting in the Wastes, a bird landing on his shoulder and turning into a woman, that woman verbally abusing him, that old man breaking down into tears, and now that same bird woman offering him a deal… frankly, this was too much for Subaru, too much all at once. He was struggling to process it all. And his sickness distorting his senses, that need to itch interrupting his focus, didn't help at all with that effort.
"Su… baru-kun…"
His sights instantly shot down at that croaked out whisper. Rem—who'd been unconscious the whole time and with her horn still struggling to shine on—was glaring at the bird woman.
Glaring. A look of utter hate and contempt. One he'd been on the receiving end of two decades ago.
"No, that's not possible…"
And then those words, those words that only ever accompanied that glare emerged from her lips.
"Witch Cultist…"
Spica stood in the hall where she'd been dropped off, patiently waiting. She noted the flutter of magic that coated her brother as he marched towards their parents' room.
"Ah, so he's quarantining himself?"
It was an unfamiliar use of wind magic, but one she instantly grasped the purpose of.
And that purpose… it sent a chill down her spine.
The need to keep away from contaminants, the determination he walked with, the conviction he acted with…
"Sick, very sick."
Spica took a calming breath and closed her eyes. Within the confines of her mind, she organized all the information she had gathered and constructed possible scenarios.
And within seconds, there were two hypotheses.
First, Rigel was greatly overreacting and was foolishly believing the situation was worse than it actually was. He may have seen some inexplicable ailment or have misinterpreted something their father had said, but the root of his concern was not based in reality. Everything was fine. He'd come on out and tell her there was no longer anything to worry about. She'd scold him and ask to be taken back to school. Their father and mother would have to formally apologize for the property damage he'd caused, but everything would work out, as things always have.
It was what Spica wanted to believe, the hypothesis she tried to focus the whole of her attention onto.
And yet… she just couldn't get that second one out of her head. For as great as she was at pretending, she could not pretend like she hadn't seen all the signs, all the clues, all the evidence that pointed to—
The sound of footsteps roused her from thinking, and Spica opened her eyes. When that tapping ceased, her brother stood before her once more, his eyes snapped shut and his face mired in concentration.
He sniffed the air, and pivoted on his feet. It was something Spica had only seen her mother do before, and only sparingly.
"Spica," he said, stern, sterner than she'd ever heard him.
Even with his back facing her, she knew his exact expression. He was putting on a tough-guy act, playing the part of the composed older brother.
"Wait here, I'll be right back."
A gust of wind flew through the hall and Rigel had disappeared.
Spica sighed, and a genuine frown came to her face. That first hypothesis vanished from her mind.
"That idiot… you really need to work on your pretending…"
A dim light once again emerged, and a bright pink horn grew to adorn Spica's head.
"If things really are so bad, I'm better off with you than anywhere else."
Subaru followed his wife's line of sight. He saw the woman again, still smiling wide.
"If she's a witch cultist, then…"
His heart sank at the realization. Those two words were enough to shake him out of his confused state, and ground him despite his continually worsening health.
That smile, that damned smile. That smile that gave off equal parts malice and insanity. The same kind of smile that tortured him in his nightmares for years… No wonder she'd seemed so evil.
"I have no interest in making a deal with the likes of you," he spat, a scowl etched onto his face.
"Oh?" The woman smiled even wider, and his scowl deepened in response.
Her gaze flicked downward, right towards Rem once more, and then it shifted towards her horn.
"OH!" The cultist's eyes widened. Her visible excitement… it was repulsive. Subaru cradled Rem as close as he could.
But then, the sound of bones cracking rang out through the Wastes once more. The black haired man's breath caught, and the air was stuck in his lungs. When she transformed from a bird into a person, it was so unexpected that Subaru was more confused than anything else, but now…
That cracking, that snapping, that tearing of skin and flesh. It was reminiscent, too eerily reminiscent, of the sounds that accompanied a certain green skinned monster's mannerisms. And so Subaru could only watch on in a terrible silence—one only broken by breathing, his heart beating, his leg itching, and the cultist's body twisting—as the woman… changed.
Her blonde hair shifted to a muddy brown, her somewhat gentle features—that instantly grew revolting the moment she smiled—became simpler, rougher, uglier, and her blood red eyes transformed into a sky blue, the same blue as Rem's eyes. It was a familiar form, one Subaru had only seen once before… nearly two decades before. It was the form of a person whose name he swore to never forget.
"Reese…"
That face, the face of a simple village girl, Subaru had only seen filled with hate. But the expression it held now… it contained not a drop of the grief or sadness or remorse that the version he'd imprinted in his memory had. This one was disgusting, tainted by the evil smile of the cultist. And it only grew worse when her mouth opened to speak.
"And here I thought that this one was the last one."
Subaru tried to block out her words, to leave his memories unsullied.
"But it seems…" The sounds of her body breaking down and being put back together accompanied her physical transformation once more. The cultist had returned to her blonde-haired form. "That this lovely lady missed a spot."
"Monster…" Rem mumbled, the embers of hatred fueling both syllables of that word. And yet, her voice was weak, so weak that even Subaru struggled to hear it.
Rem's attempt to shake herself out of her husband's grasp, too, was just as weak. Subaru knew that Rem wanted nothing more than to attack the cultist before her, but… she was too ill, and her body quickly grew limp in his arms once more.
Subaru looked down at his wife, studying her skin that he constantly revered as flawless. The discoloration on her neck had solidified and spread, reaching well up into her cheeks—wrinkling her skin in a way he never wanted to see, to see again. He was sure her chest too had been infected with the disease, and her internal organs were likely rotting away.
Rem was only barely more healthy than she'd been when she…
"EY! MEATBAG!"
Subaru raised his sights back up, glaring at the cultist. He wouldn't let this monster take everything away from him, from his family.
"Like this lovely lady said, before you got wrapped up in your pathetic carnal desires," she began, placing a hand on her chest, "this lovely lady's got a deal for you."
"And why should I even listen to you?" he replied, letting every ounce of his disdain infuse into his words. He didn't make deals with monsters.
"It's the only way for that meat you're holding to keep breathing," she explained, that evil smile not fading from her face.
Subaru's grip tightened on Rem. He wracked his brain for ideas, any idea to get him out of this situation. He didn't trust a word the cultist said but… what other option did he have?
"I could run… but to where? If I go back to Banan, everyone would get sick again… and who knows what she'd do to the people there…"
"Of course," she started, tilting her head and placing her hands together, drawing Subaru's attention once more. "You can also let that meat die and give your love to me."
"Like hell I would," he instantly thought.
This vile woman disgusted him. With every action she took, with every moment he spent in her presence, his hate for her grew. Subaru felt the instinct to refute her, shout at her, despise her, reject her in every way he could. He knew she deserved nothing, nothing but hate and death. And yet…
Glancing down at Rem's sweat-coated face, the infection creeping up towards her eyes, he just… he couldn't bring himself to watch her die again.
Subaru met the cultist's gaze, and steeled himself.
"What's your deal?" he asked, his voice growing hoarse. The joyous smile she adopted and the excitement in her eyes at those words only served to deepen his grimace.
"Well," she said, reaching her hand out, palm up. "This lovely lady will get her child to turn off the curse."
Subaru's eyes widened at this. Could it really be that simple? No. That look on her face said it all.
"And what's the catch?"
The look in the woman's eyes, while still evil and insane, filled with a deep yearning.
"I want you, just you."
Just… him? He considered her words, truly considered her words. And then…
"Subaru… kun."
He met his wife's azure eyes.
"Don't… do it… Rem would rather… die…"
His lip quivered, he felt the urge to cry seeing her so desperate, but…
"Rest now, Rem." He caressed her cheek, the oni swiftly losing the strength to object. "Rest now, and I'll handle everything."
"HAH! Smart move, meat. Now just come here and—"
A gust of wind blew against Subaru's back, and a wholly unexpected presence appeared beside him.
"Yeah, that's enough of whatever this is."
Turning his head, the black haired man saw his son, his horn emerged and his scowl directed at the cultist.
Rigel wanted to pinch his nose, the smell was that overwhelming. He looked towards his father first, seeing that revolting infection spreading towards his neck and arms. Concern panged at his chest, but the stench made it hard to think clearly. Somehow, Subaru smelled even more rank than usual.
Rigel then spotted his mother cradled in Subaru's arms, his heart dropping at the sight. Her horn was out, but the light it emitted was flickering. He could tell at a glance that her life would expire should it disappear.
He had to be especially careful how much mana he expended now. Even the minimal amount he was using to maintain his wind magic quarantine threatened to wink out the last embers of Rem's life. And he would not be responsible for that.
"Oh? Did this lovely lady really miss another one?"
Rigel turned towards the voice, the anxiety within his heart growing with every second his sights weren't locked on his mother. The one who had spoken was a… poorly dressed woman, her own eyes studying him intently. He, on the other hand, did not need to study her. Within a second of seeing her, Rigel decided that her face was incredibly punchable, surpassing even his father's in that regard.
"No, wait. I didn't miss this one, this one's new."
The same scent that came from his father came from her. And just like that, for the very first time, he realized why it always aggravated him so much.
She smelled evil. So evil that he wanted nothing more than to tear her apart with his wind magic right there and then.
Rigel was taken aback by his own thought process. He'd never felt anything like that before.
"Is this how Tia feels…?"
"So, little meat," the woman said, drawing Rigel out of his brief self reflection, "Will you let this lovely lady continue with her business?"
Her casual demeanor faded away as she finished, "Or will I have to make you love me?"
Rigel took an instinctive step back, and swallowed the saliva in his mouth. That evil, that terrible wrongness that wafted off her without end, it was so overwhelming that he only barely stopped himself from trembling. It was like being faced with an immeasurable bloodlust… but almost worse.
"Rigel…"
The half-oni hesitantly looked towards his father, not wanting to take his eyes off of the woman he instantly recognized as a threat to his life. Subaru, who couldn't even stand up straight, was staring at him with… concern?
"Did you check on Spica?" he asked, with the same determination Rigel saw earlier that morning.
"Ye—yeah, she's fine," the half-oni stammered.
At his words, Subaru relaxed a great deal. Even with this obviously evil woman who could surely kill them all standing just across from them, his father looked relieved.
"What the hell is wrong with his priorities? How can he be relaxed when he's like that… when MOM'S like that?!"
"Rigel," Subaru turned fully to his son, "I need you to take Rem and go."
"What?!" he shouted, so surprised that even his desire to kill the evil woman faded into the background.
"NO! Are you crazy?!"
"Ah," the cultist interjected, Rigel's attention snapping back towards her, "little meat, this bigger meat is crazy."
The desire to kill her grew with every word she spoke; it was so overpowering that the all-encompassing confusion that filled him just a moment prior was gone in an instant.
"He isn't giving his love to me yet, and so he's crazy," she explained, a smug expression adorning her face.
Rigel felt nothing but utter disgust at the woman.
"The hell is with you and love?! Do you even know what that word means?!"
"Love is love, little meat," she answered, dismissive of his words.
"Meatbags are all the same, you can make any of them love you with the right appearance."
Rigel didn't think he could feel more hate, more disgust, but somehow she managed to get on every one of his nerves.
"Like hell you can!" he shot back, wanting nothing more than for this foul existence to just end.
"Watch me," she replied, the sound of bones crunching and muscles tearing following shortly after.
Rigel's eyes widened at the sight. Were his horn not already summoned, it would have come out involuntarily.
"You… you monster…"
Insulting his parents' love. Reeking of pure evil. Exuding a wrongness he'd never seen even close to matched before.
Rigel didn't need another reason to kill the woman, and yet she gave him one that would have been just cause all on its own.
With the voice and body of a familiar young girl, and an expression totally unfitting of that form, the evil woman spoke, "So, little meat, tell me what you love about this lovely lady now."
Defiling his sister's form was the last straw. And he didn't wait even a second after she finished speaking before summoning his full magical ability, and lunging right at his opponent with killing intent.
Subaru watched as the pair effectively flew through the Wastes at a speed he couldn't fully comprehend. Rigel and the cultist spoke for less than a minute, with a storm of wind magic growing with each word exchanged, before they both vanished with a loud crackle reminiscent of fighter jets breaking the sound barrier. Eventually, it seemed like they flew several kilometers into the air. But he couldn't really be sure.
His eyes couldn't keep up with their movements, and his ailment rapidly progressing towards its later stage did not help in that effort. So, knowing his time was soon coming to a close, Subaru turned to the old man—who hadn't moved from his spot the entire time—and marched towards him. The twisting needles that had once been a mere itch in his leg intensified as he went, but he paid it no mind. That pain was nothing compared to the sheer magnitude of his fury.
"You can stop this, can't you?!" Subaru yelled, standing only a few paces away from the beggar.
No response was given.
He placed Rem's body on the ground, being as gentle as he could. The moment he lost contact with her, he felt heavier and sicker, almost as bad as he felt when running through the city streets in the previous loop. She'd been pumping mana into him the whole time, and being deprived of that supply had both worsened his symptoms and hastened the speed of the infection. He almost shot his hand down to scratch his calf before his hate redirected his arms elsewhere.
He grabbed the beggar by his shirt, barely stopping himself from falling to his knees. With what little remained of his strength, Subaru let out a scream,
"WHO EVEN ARE YOU?! WHY WON'T YOU STOP THIS?! WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO MY FAMILY?!"
The beggar regarded Subaru with a saddened expression. Tears ran down his cheeks, even faster than when the evil woman had been threatening him. He almost seemed—
"... sorry… I'm… sorry…"
Subaru brought his arm back.
"Oh, you'll be sorry alright!"
And just as he sent his fist flying, powered by nothing but hate and grief, a new voice interjected,
"Natsuki Subaru's fist could not land."
He missed his swing at point blank, and staggered forward, having to steady himself by grabbing onto the beggar's shoulders. He looked up, unable to bring himself to a standing position, to see yet another mysterious woman.
She was… beautiful. Beautiful, alluring, enchanting, awe-inspiring. She was so mesmerizing that even his hate took a moment to pause.
She smiled, and said,
"Natsuki Subaru let the old beggar go."
His grip loosened and the man fell to the ground. Consequently, Subaru too almost lost his balance again. He landed on one knee, and glanced up at the woman, beyond confused.
"Now then, let me introduce myself." The woman bowed, the movement exuding a feeling of grace and utter Vanity.
"I am Pandora, and, seeing as Bishop Lugunica is preoccupied, I will be negotiating in her stead."
"AHAHA, YOU REALLY THINK YOU CAN MATCH THIS LOVELY LADY, MEATBAG?!"
He flung himself right, narrowly ducking under a swipe from a reptilian claw larger than his whole body.
Her movements weren't particularly fast, nor were they particularly complex. Rigel had dozens of ways to kill her in a single motion, but…
He couldn't go all out. Even so high in the sky and even with the utter hatred that instinctively pushed him to attack her, he couldn't bring himself to go on the offensive, couldn't risk draining the mana Rem needed to survive.
He was stupid, a complete idiot for using as much as he did in their initial clash. And now, he was forced to fight with only a fraction of his full magical ability in the air—a type of combat he was wholly unsuited for.
Swiftly weighing his options, he came to a decision.
The half-oni cancelled the gust of wind below him that kept him afloat, called upon another to counteract his rightward momentum, and summoned one last one even stronger than either of the others to push himself downwards, assisting gravity's pull towards the ground. It would be quite a long fall.
In the air, he'd just be uselessly dodging while his mother's condition only grew worse. At least on the ground, he'd have a real chance to kill her despite his handicap… he'd just have to take extra care not to drain the mana Rem needed.
He wrenched his head back up as he flew towards the ground. Spotting the evil woman—who continued to hold a corrupted version of Spica's form—diving down right for him, long wings having sprouted from her back, Rigel wracked his mind for ideas.
At the rate she was approaching, she'd catch up to him quickly despite his head start. But even if he kept pushing himself down… he'd never be able to get there fast enough.
And then a nearly forgotten thought came to him.
His father had once explained a concept called "terminal velocity" to him. At some point, the air itself would prevent the earth from pulling him—and the concept that governed that was its whole own can of worms that Rigel still didn't understand—down any faster. Further, he was tight on mana because of Rem's condition, and couldn't afford to uselessly push himself down with the same gust of wind he had dodged with.
And so he found a plan.
Rigel straightened out his body, the tips of his feet pointed downwards. He ceased pushing himself and redirected his magic towards the bottom of his body. He commanded the air that he tore through to move aside as he passed. And in an instant, he accelerated to a speed he'd never thought possible.
The ground was already rapidly approaching, but at the rate he was going at now…
He wouldn't be able to deaccelerate in time.
He broke his rigid posture, his clothes nearly tearing as they moved past the affected area of his magic, and spread his limbs out.
Blocking out the sight of yet another unknown figure standing near his parents, Rigel fully focused on the situation at hand. He summoned as much mana as he could from his place in the air as to inconvenience his mother as little as possible, and began to forcefully slow himself down with his magic.
"Ow, ow, ow, OW, OW, OWOWOWOW!"
It hurt like hell; he was deaccelerating even faster than he'd accelerated before. Every muscle in his body felt weighed down, and as if they were clamped down on with their own individual vices.
But it was working; he was slowing down. And by the time he slammed face-first into the ground, he was going slow enough that whatever damage he suffered would heal itself naturally through the use of his horn.
A loud slam sounded out through the Wastes, overpowering the simultaneous cracking noise that accompanied it. Dust and debris flew from the craggy ground, and the metallic taste of his own blood filled his mouth. Yet he stood, his body aching with the motion.
He spit to his side, stood up tall, and wiped the blood from his now broken nose.
Looking up, he found—
The evil woman was standing just a meter away from him, her arms crossed and a shit-eating grin plastered on her face. Such an expression didn't belong on Spica.
"What an impressive fall you had there, little meat. Shame that after all that, this lovely lady still beat you to the ground."
"How in the hell…"
She uncrossed her arms and yawned, stretching in place. He'd seen the real Spica do that same motion a hundred times and yet… when this woman did it… all he could feel was a need to kill.
"This lovely lady would explain it to you, but I've had my full of talking to misguided idiots lately."
She leveled a glare filled with bloodlust at him. He hated her. He wanted to kill her.
"And, frankly, little meat… you're starting to bore this lovely lady."
"You, bitch," a part of him hurt at saying that to Spica's face. But this wasn't her. This wasn't an innocent eight year old girl. This was a monster. This thing was pure evil.
She wagged her finger at him, "Ah, ah, ah, you have to love this lovely lady."
"I'll never love you."
"We'll see about that."
The sound of cracking bones and tearing flesh filled the Wastes once more as Spica's body morphed and tore itself apart. It was almost relieving to Rigel, to have that tainted image gone and dead.
But what came next sowed an anxiety even greater than before within him.
As the terrible noises came to an end and the evil woman's transformation completed, a massive figure loomed over the half-oni. It was over two stories tall, its shadow covered him fully, and a cold sweat formed on his skin.
"This lovely lady is in the mood for some charred meat today," a voice boomed from overhead, full of sadistic glee.
Where the cultist stood mere seconds ago, a towering dragon now was, its scales a deep black color. He'd never seen one before. And now, he regretted ever wanting to.
"Let's see how you cook, little meat!"
The dragon's jaws opened up, and a light formed within. He didn't have time to move, time to summon any wind, time to come up with any clever strategies. Rigel was motionless as a massive billow of flame spewed from its mouth, right towards him.
"Negotiate…?"
He repeated that word quietly and with hesitance, his mind struggling to keep up and process all that was going on.
Subaru stared at the figure, utterly perplexed. He hadn't even caught her name.
She'd come out of nowhere, displayed unnatural abilities, and was doing something for someone who was preoccupied?
His eyes widened and he fell backwards, moving from his knees to sit on the ground.
"W-Witch cultist?!"
His feet pushed against the dry, craggy soil and his hands gripped down. Dust flying up from his thrashing, he attempted to push himself backwards, to get any kind of distance he could from the woman.
She was so beautiful but, surely, she was evil.
"Calm down, Natsuki-san. I am simply here to negotiate peacefully," she said, not moving from her spot, her head tilting to the left with unparalleled grace.
"Bullshit." It almost felt like a sin to swear in front of her.
Her brow furrowed a tiny amount, and it stabbed an unexpected guilt through his heart, as if he'd just thrown mud on the Mona Lisa.
But she spoke again, bringing a sense of serenity with every word, "Your past grievances with Bishop Romanee-conti have no place in this discussion."
"Romanee-conti, Romanee-conti, Romanee-conti."
That name echoed through his mind and whatever little calm had taken root in him shattered.
"Petelgeuse Romanee-conti, DESU!"
He summoned strength he didn't think he had left and forced his body to stand, an unfathomable hate and fear pushing him upwards.
"No place? NO PLACE?! DO YOU KNOW WHAT HE DID TO ME?! WHAT HE DID TO RE—"
Time froze. A shadowy hand gripped his heart. He fell once more to the ground, his breathing heavy. His arms struggled to support his torso's weight, and he saw beads of sweat moistening the dirt below. Worse, that itching had spread to both legs now, needles stabbing into every inch of both limbs.
From above, he could hear, "Ah, such love wafting over you… truly, you are the one I need."
Subaru glanced up at her, his whole body shaking, strained from the effort.
"I don't trust you… witch cultist…" he spat, barely able to speak.
"Perhaps not now," she replied, blinking for seemingly the first time, "but is trust really something you can wait for?"
"What are you…"
She pointed to her right, the mere action of raising her arm filled with grace. Subaru followed it, and looked left.
A towering dragon stood before Rigel, mocking him.
And then flame billowed down, engulfing the boy.
"NO!"
Banan was rather busy at this time of day, even at this time of year. So weaving through the streets, dodging pedestrians, pack animals, and various vendors would have been rather difficult. Luckily, she didn't need to do that; she could just run along the rooftops as her brother always did.
Of course, both quickly weaving through the streets and sprinting along roofs were not at all normal behaviors for an average girl.
But neither was having your brother break into your school, carry you home as fast as possible, and leave you alone there while going off to find who knows what.
So, at this point, she wasn't particularly concerned with her image. Today was already weird enough.
And it was normal for an average girl to have some weird days, right? In fact, it would be abnormal for an average girl to have exclusively normal days. That's just not how life worked.
But what would she know about how life worked? She was just an average eight year old girl.
An average eight year old girl who was sprinting along rooftops, following the freshest dents in the tiles to trace her brother's path, in pursuit of her supposedly gravely ill parents, heading right for the mythical and supposedly bad luck-ridden Wastes.
Yep, she was an average girl having a moderately weird day. That's all. She wasn't afraid whatsoever.
He pushed against the ground once more, struggled with all his might to stand, but… he didn't have the strength anymore. The dark spots around the edges of his vision were growing, sweat coated his whole body, and his every muscle was throbbing—his legs especially pained.
Everything was blurry and his world was crooked as he looked on, numb.
"Shitty dad, you think I'm an idiot?"
Subaru wrenched his head to those words, and found… Rigel, standing beside the old man, unharmed beyond a bloodied nose and some scratches.
A wave of relief flooded over him as words escaped from his lips, "How did you…?"
"Sorry about your cup, geezer," Rigel said to the beggar, sparing the old man his attention for only a fraction of a second. The beggar refused to meet the half-oni's eyes.
"Oh… substitution…"
Rigel cracked his neck and stretched his back, saying, "Alright. Dad, I need you to get mom as far away from here as you can. I can't go all out when she's like that."
Finishing his movements, he looked at Subaru.
"Wait… can you even move like that?"
"I'll manage…" Subaru muttered, in barely more than a whisper.
"And who's that?" Rigel pointed at the woman behind Subaru.
"Hello, Rigel," the woman replied, seemingly unoffended by his rude pointing.
"She's—" Subaru started, but was quickly cut off by a voice a short ways away.
"Are you really just gonna walk away from this lovely lady?"
He shifted his sights over to find that the evil woman had transformed back to her human form— the blonde haired one she held initially—and was walking towards the group with a relaxed gait.
"Doesn't matter, I guess," Rigel said, pivoting towards her, "I've got to go anyway."
And, with another gust of wind, the half-oni was gone.
Subaru was left to look on, barely managing to struggle to his feet yet again. He couldn't stand up straight, let alone pick up Rem's unconscious body. So he silently watched on, the battle resuming, laying waste to the Wastes… however much that was possible.
"He'll die at this rate."
Subaru turned to his right. The beautiful woman was staring directly at him, seemingly having never turned away. He'd almost forgotten about her; that's how disorienting the effects of his ailment were.
"Bishop Lugunica could make him hers in an instant. She is simply delaying him. But the moment the order comes…"
A long silence hung over the pair. Subaru tried to stare her down, but looking at someone so perfect hurt when his vision was so poor.
"I still can't trust you," he replied, stating his honest thoughts as they came. His cognitive functions were slowing; it was progressively getting harder to think. The only constant was the pain that continued to blare in his legs—a feeling so intense that he found himself tempted to tear open the legs of his pants to scratch at them.
"Again, is trust really something you can wait for right now?"
Subaru frowned, and considered his options, trying his utmost to block out the intrusive desire to address the itch that permeated his legs.
Rigel would die. Rem would die. He would die.
Or.
He could go. Rem would live. Rigel would live.
It seemed too good to be true, but…
"Do you truly swear it?"
A picture-perfect smile came to her face, "Yes, I swear."
Placing a head on her chest, she said, "I, Pandora, the Witch of Vainglory, swear that your family will remain safe in Banan so long as you come with us."
She then stretched out that hand.
"So, do we have a deal?"
He dodged again and again. Evading blow after blow.
She threw everything at him. Flames, claws, even spikes and teeth.
But he kept dodging, and it only got easier with time. It was clear that he held a far better chance fighting on the ground, even with his mana-based handicap.
So then, at the first safe opportunity, he launched an attack.
With a grunt of effort, he evaded a swipe at his head.
"Well, are you gon—" she began, but was cut off.
A second Rigel flew past her, slicing her throat in the process. Blood spewed from her neck and her head tilted upwards.
Both versions of him winced. He regretted taking a life, even if it was that of someone so despicable.
The first Rigel relaxed and spoke as the second one vanished, "Well, you can never be too care—"
A crackle came from his right. On pure instinct alone, he thrust himself backwards, narrowly dodging a familiar but much smaller billow of flame.
He followed it to its source to find… another version of the evil woman with two heads, one that was that of a dragon's and another that was human.
"You think this lovely lady couldn't see your clone? And you think she couldn't do something similar? Truly, what a stupid little meat you are."
Rigel turned fully to face her as a soft thud indicated that the dead version of the evil woman had fallen down behind him.
They stood across from each other, motionless, silently staring. A twisted smile formed on her face.
"Soon enough, Mama will teach you to be smarter, to love her, to care only for her."
Rigel had a quip ready, prepared to shoot right back at her insane ramblings.
But out of the corner of his eye, he spotted his father reaching his hand out to the strange woman in the distance. This gave him pause. He should probably see what's going on over there.
"Nah, it's probably fine. I can't take my eyes off of this bitch anyway."
Rigel made his choice, but before he could deliver his retort, he saw yet another figure even further behind, coming straight from Banan.
Black hair, hazel eyes, a fitting grey kimono. There was no evil smile ruining that image, no reptilian limbs growing in place of her normal ones, no taunts escaping her lips. It was…
"FATHER!"
It was Spica, really Spica, and she was running as fast as she could, her horn on full display.