Subaru's body throbbed all over from Sekhmet's shapeless pummeling—delivered very suddenly, from her bed on a firwood table. He was sore, over the suddenness moreso than the ferocity with which Subaru's body lifted from the ground, he was beaten so grandly. Typhon had said it looked funny, albeit without a smile.
Felt seems casual about the whole thing, though. Me just showing up. The arm tethering him to Felt was mottled in bruises, scratched red. Her top-bun shuddered with each step; below Subaru's feet moved forward, one after another dusting the polished hardwood floor with socks of caked dirt.
Woah, wait. Subaru's step hesitated as he gazed beyond a yelping Felt, pulled to a halt. All around was Old Man Rom's old man loothouse, as dank and empty as Subaru remembered—and that's where his familiarity ended, the interior layout. Swallowing a groan, Subaru stepped back out of the doorway, observing the worn wood and mortar of the exterior. "This's your place, right?" Inside sure as hell wasn't!
"Didja throw yourself on the nearest door or something? I thought I was being visited by a drunk." Felt twisted around, grinning with her hands on her hips in pride. "It's nice, though, right? I think I got pretty good taste, if I do say so myself!"
"Being connected to royalty sure has its perks. No kidding." Subaru shut the door behind him, already feeling the warmth he'd always associated with fantasy taverns—the crystal lamps on each table set a cool midnight-blue. "I guess the taste of a high quality lifestyle rubbed off on ya."
"Eh!" Felt shrugged, flushed despite herself. "I'm not that prideful. The finer things are called that for a reason, y'know? So why not?" And this was Felt's way of sharing it with her 'hometown,' inheriting Rom's daytime business. All the splintery surfaces had been replaced with smooth, glossy wood; even the barstools, currently upside-down on the tables and bar. The walls were decorated in Felt's personal collection of "trophies" and keepsakes, gathered from her affiliations with the van Astraeas and Barielles. And the Natsukis, Subaru noticed, gifted to her on her birthday earlier last year. And with all of Rom's loot having been returned to their original families, the joint looked like a proper bar now instead of a hoarder's home.
"You never struck me as the type to keep a bunch of, quote, 'useless junk' around, end-quote." Subaru spoke while drinking in the memories.
"Yeah," Felt laughed, scratching the back of her head. "Call it a side effect of getting old and squishy, I guess."
Subaru resisted crooning over how wholesome that was. "But seriously, Felt. Nice work with the place. I'd give two thumbs up if I could," he joked, managing one through the soreness of his elbow.
"Hey, thanks! I wish the guys out here appreciated it like the ones in your neck o' the woods." Felt threw her hands up, hapless. And leaving herself "wide open," Subaru realized "Well, it's called 'comfy' a lot, so it does its job. I can't really compl—the heck?" she muttered as Subaru yanked the zipper up to her neck, one-handed. Felt deadpanned. "I was in bed. Seriously, dude?"
Subaru adopted a rich, fatherly tone: "I did not entrust this armor to you, to be worn half-assed, little one." And then Subaru yowled as he was kicked in the shin.
"You clearly saw me wearing my smallclothes, Dad! "
Subaru exhaled, balling his fist, shin now pulsating along with the rest of his body. "Aye. But my daughters are to wear clothes in this kingdom. Lugnica is a strictly Puritan society now."
"I got zero idea what that is." Felt shoved her hands into her pockets. "Whatever. If my womanly charms are so strong that they put your marriage in jeopardy, then I'll comply with His Royal Pain-in-the-Ass, just this once." With an exasperated smirk, she spun on her heel.
"'Womanly charms?'" Subaru followed Felt's twig-like legs as they carried her across the tavern. "Sorry, little sis, my bad. I mistook you for still being fifteen." Now nineteen, poor Felt was only several inches shorter than Subaru as opposed to a ton, as she was largely done with puberty by the time he met her. "You shouldn't dress like a slob if you're gonna go around calling yourself a woman."
"Hey. Bro." Subaru looked across the bar towards Felt, where he was met with a faceful of amber so strong it smelled like burning incarnate.
"Dammit, Felt!" Subaru stumbled back, arm scrubbing up and down his face. "C'mon, this stuff's sticky!" He shook his fist. "Off with her head, I say, in the name of the king!"
Felt retorted flatly, "Sorry, big bro, my bad. I mistook you for still being a know-it-all crook. You shouldn't dress like a war POW if you're gonna go around calling yourself a king. Here," she added, scooping up something liquid. "To wash it off, this way."
Subaru squinted his eyes open just enough to catch a rush of water with his face. "Fwah!" he gasped, scrubbing his face dry. "Quit dousing me! Couldn't you lead me to the water trough like a normal person!?"
"But I had such perfectly good dishwater, just begging to meet your ugly grimace." Felt set aside the liquor bottle that doused Subaru with one hand while the other retrieved a pair of tankards, setting them on the counter. "Future reference, bro-king: don't call a lady ugly."
"Wha—?" Subaru choked. With her haphazard bun and the messy strands framing her face... "I didn't call you 'ugly.'" He almost regarded her as "like a tiny mom," but that was sure to prickle Felt. "Even before Reinhardt cleaned you up, I'd be the biggest liar in the country if I thought you were unattractive." Subaru held his breath, gauging Felt after recalling the uncomfortable topic of her unrequited crush.
"Hmph." Felt smiled calmly, as though amused by the pair of mugs between them. "S'that the line you give everyone in your harem?"
Subaru rolled his eyes—Felt was never one for feelsy stuff. "I just call it like I see it, Princess. I don't got a harem."
"And I'm not Queen of the Poor, but there's nothing I can do about how people think."
"Wait, does the country seriously think I have a harem?!"
"Yeah, some do." Felt laughed as Subaru gave a shriek of despair. "But rumors come with the package of being famous."
Subaru scratched the back of his head. "I can't get over this, though. Why a harem?"
"Maybe it's cuz you remind people of that Roswaal douchebag." Felt shrugged a shoulder, hiding her smirk behind the jacket's popped golden collar. "Taking a gaggle of cute girls with you whenever you go to the bathroom? Even demihumans and demons, who you didn't waste a second to leave unemployed. And in close proximity to yourself and the queen? It's a pretty zesty setup, ya gotta admit!"
"Ugh!" Subaru palmed his forehead, trying to forget about Frederica and how genuinely awful that "harem" rumor would be if remotely true. "That's it. It's official: this's actually worse than 'the Lolimancer.'"
"Face it, bro. You're always gonna be a meme."
Subaru slammed his palm against the bar. "You guys got memes in this world!? What!?"
"Chill!" Felt's hands rose in defense. "It's an element of culture passed from one individual to another, by imitation or other non-genetic means!"
The literal definition of the real word, Subaru realized. "What are you, a dictionary?!"
"Everybody knows what a meme is! Are you stupid?!"
"No, I'm an outlander! Your mangled Lugnican dialect screws with my head sometimes! Also! I spent too much time on the internet before coming here!"
"'Internet?' What, like some kinda spiderweb? How'dja get out?" Felt leaned on the bar, eyes wide—genuinely interested.
"Err…" Subaru scrambled for a digestible explanation. "It was this…. this plane of existence the people of my world could access with a certain device. The internet was something that could teach you anything and tell you everything, and connect you to any human mind. It was really amazing and convenient. I kinda miss it every now and then."
Felt puckered her lips, drumming the bar. "So, uh, why didn't you ever use it?"
"I used it all the time, I thought I made that clear."
"But to do what, other than suck?" She grinned mischievously.
Felt didn't know better, Subaru had to tell himself—that, and he wasn't this useless waste anymore. He wasn't. He wasn't. "I, uh, used it to watch stories and funny… 'memories,' let's say, of animals failing at life."
"Pfft!" Felt sprayed with laughter, all the way to her forehead knocking against the bar. And then, "Dumbass."
"It's my dark past, alright?! Get off my back!"
"No! No… it's great . Very cool." Felt lifted her head, smiling and teary-eyed. "Extremely King Subaru."
"Man, you suck now, Felt." She belted out a cackle, to which Subaru snorted. "Can't you go back to being all cute and teary-eyed, when I wrapped you in my jacket?"
"H'ah! Sorry! No way in Hell am I gonna stay that weak little girl after a whole year!"
A heaviness overtook Subaru's lungs, instead of seeing Felt's grinning face he saw her trying to hold back tears, alone, at Emilia's coronation: no Reinhardt, no Rom, nothing but a disappointed fanbase and little power to uplift them.
Of course, there was no way neither Emilia, nor Subaru, would abandon such a painfully, personally-familiar sight for each of them. In their ideal world, everyone was wanted; nobody was useless. And Felt was a friend, regardless, even if she refused to complicate her emotions by acknowledging them as such throughout the years-long Royal Selection.
Now, Felt was the head of Lugnica's first official public relations committee, representing the southernmost poor district specifically. "You're doing pretty well for yourself, that's for sure."
"Yep! With my own blood, sweat, and tears, I made a pretty decent life in this slummy neighborhood."
"It's cleaning up!" Subaru said defensively. "Granted, it'll be a while until Mili's re-housing project reaches this area, sure, but—"
"But progress is slow when you do it the good, righteous way, I know. Believe me, Reinhardt made sure I did if nothin' else." Felt gained that distant, hazy look again before blinking it away with a clap. "Anyway! That's enough smalltalk. Let's get down to business."
"Business?" Was Felt in on Sekhmet's scheme?
She scoffed at whatever face he was making. "I'm not gonna give you poison, bro, c'mon. And not the bottom shelf shit, either! We're treating ourselves to the premium!"
"O-oh…" Now Subaru felt like an asshole.
"Eh…" Felt rubbed her neck. "You… look like you could use a drink," she said, gaze bouncing off his stump, "is all. So, pull up a stool. Talk to me." Felt said this, though she threw herself over the bar, grabbing one of the stools upside-down beside Subaru and shoving it off. It landed on all fours with a clatter.
"Thanks. Thank you, Felt." Subaru took his seat, smiling at the courtesy she gave in spite of her words. 'Pull up a stool,' Felt'd said in contrast. "But, please, I'm good on drinking. Had a brush with it this evening, and… well, 'never again,' let's just say."
"That alone says a lot about why you're here. Even if it had nothing to do with…" Picking up a tankard, she waved it in a circle towards Subaru's maiming. "With whatever Queen Emilia did to ya there."
"All of my friends, and your first guess was Emilia? "
"Hey, she's the jealous type! And you're the one with the harem!"
"Seriously, Felt?"
She cackled as she turned, replacing the second tankard among the row behind her. Normally Subaru would defend Emilia's character, but Felt's summation wasn't wholly inaccurate, he realized with discomfort as well as memories—many of Satella in Emilia's skin.
"Fine," sighed Felt. "If you don't wanna drink, then don't drink… wuss."
"Peer pressure."
"If it'll getcha to drink, wuss. " Felt winked, filling the bottom of the remaining tankard with a shot of whiskey, it seemed.
"You don't use a tankard for something like that. What happened to your etiquette?"
"This." Bottoms-up, Felt gulped her swig at once with a sigh, shivering suddenly. She opened her lips… only for a tiny burp to squeak out. "Yep, there's my etiquette."
"Charming. Coulda popped a blood vessel if you'd force that too hard."
"You deserve my lamest belch if you're here after midnight and don't even wanna drink." Felt licked her lips, her now slightly hooded gaze bluntly staring down Subaru's maiming before drinking in the rest of him—his white tee, pajama pants, all soiled and bloody—before searching his face for any hidden pain or regret.
That's how her scrutiny vibed, anyhow. "'Kay."
"Uh, 'kay?"
"Start. M'not good at this feelsy stuff."
And Subaru hadn't planned on seeing Felt to begin with. "Random question, Felt, but related."
"Alright? Shoot."
Intentional or not by the Witches, a down-to-Earth outsider's perspective was one that would be really useful to hear in this situation. Assuming Felt could give a helpful answer: "Felt… earlier, about what we said, with how people see us…"
"Yeah?"
"How do you get friends and family to change that?"
"Oof."
"Yeah," Subaru sighed, his fist closing on the bar.
"I mean, time and consistency?"
"But what about words, and within twenty-four hours?"
"Then let's bring our hands together and pray for time travel."
"Fuck."
"Is it really that bad?" Felt shook her head. "Look, I'm not the type to worry about other people's lives, but even I can't believe it's something that bad. Like you guys—not just you and Big Sis—-none o' you guys've ever struck me as the types to hold grudges against each other. That just… don't feel right."
"So lots of time. And talking."
"It should be easier though, when you got people who already know you."
" Should be…" The problem is they know me too well. Not a single person in my group's gonna be okay with this plan, even if they knew about Return by Death. Hell, that would probably give a certain few even more reason to refuse. "It should be easier. I guess the real issue lies in broaching the topic." 'That sounds familiar,' Subaru could almost hear Satella whisper. Though, she would never prod like that.
"It's rough, but that's the way the loot is split sometimes, y'know? Even after a year, pretty much everyone in this part o' town keeps callin' me 'Princess Felt.' Somethin' I had to learn the hard way, after rollin' around with Reinhardt a couple years: s'that people once people have a belief, then they'll believe what they wanna, no matter what you say. People don't like being wrong, and—! And it's the same with me," she muttered. "So, I know what I'm talking about."
"About taming the impoverished?" The joke came before her deeper, meaningful gaze could be fully processed.
"Pssht, please! That's a lesson I was born with." And then Felt's smile faltered, her gaze growing distant before pulling back with a small shake of the head. "Not that it matters for much, now, under Emilia's reign. They love her down here. So, get her to visit again, by the way! When you guys get your junk sorted out. The whole district'll throw another bash themselves, happily."
"I know she's been meaning to tour the capital next month." A conversation that had happened a week ago was almost two for Subaru after tomorrow. "I'll bring it up to her." Monarchs would mostly scoff at the notion of building relations with their subjects, but Emilia wasn't just any old queen. "Really, Emilia gives serious thought to her allies. She's always saying how glad she is to have a good relationship with you."
"Even if it's just to keep a better hold on the untamable impoverished?"
"I was being serious, Felt. As serious as Mili is about it."
She smirked. "I know, I know. Any other chump, tryna pass off cheese like that as genuine? I'd boot their asses out the door. But since it's Emilia, well—" Felt mulled it over, tongue between her teeth.
"Emilia's different," Subau concluded.
Felt bobbed her head exaggeratedly. "Very very different. Sometimes I can't believe she's actually legit, but?" Felt rolled her eyes, finger waving about. "Lo and behold."
"Who are you and what've you done with Felt?" Subaru smiled. "Come on, girl. Go back to taking all the credit. Hearing you be humble is gross."
She swallowed a laugh. "Well, if you insist: Emilia would be hopeless on this front of the kingdom without me vouching for her. This is a fact, suck it."
"And Mili would politely decline that offer, being married and also well-aware of this fact already."
"Tch, yeah, she can be annoyingly humble sometimes." The fondness in Felt's smile was for herself like before as she traced the rim of a tankard. "Reminds you of how dirty you are, when standing in her light. Know what I mean?"
"Eh, you don't know Mili like I do. It's just a spotlight over her, not anything actually angelic, if… that makes sense."
"Yeah, so I'll take your word for it."
"But honestly, I don't feel like I deserve her sometimes." Part of Subaru was beginning to regret it—roping poor Emilia to his accursed fate, the part that ached every time he thought about her and Return by Death now. "I really don't."
"Yeah, ya do. Shut the hell up." Felt sighed, rocking back while keeping a hold of the bar. "That was dumb o' me to say, before. Kinda arrogant—the queen being perfect. I almost sounded like the old you a sec."
"Hey!" Subaru still cringed, thinking of how uncomfortable he made Emilia feel, always putting her on a pedestal.
"Guess I'm still a little sour. She just reminds me of Reinhardt a lot, is all." Felt sighed again, deeper, deeply enough to grind her smile down. "Damn."
Suddenly, Felt's role in the Witches' plan became a lot clearer. At least, in a different way. And suddenly, Subaru didn't want to be here. Because, this wasn't about getting an outsider's perspective; this was a test run, it seemed. There was no other reason to see Felt when Subaru should be talking about this plan with his family right now.
That had to be it. And if Subaru was right…
Well, he didn't want to be.
They… they can't expect me to stay and chat. This leg of the plan could be made completely moot if I just decide to leave. Subaru was telling himself this as he heard Felt's screams. And Garf's. And Emilia's. The ones from the current history, over a year ago, and-and—-And I don't need to drop this on Felt, neither the plan nor the past.
But were the Witches watching? Would they kill her if he tried to leave immediately?
Excuses. These are definitely excuses I'm giving myself to justify telling her. Just to be penitent. Subaru had no right to drop anything on Felt, none of this mess. She had little to no part in it. And for a test run?
A freaking test run?
I don't need to drop this on Felt.
It was just Felt. She'd lost her one chance to apologize and confess to Reinhardt after they lost the third leg of the Royal Selection. She'd embarrassed him back then, and cussed him out again prior to the final round, before Pride attacked. Lots of unresolved baggage. Maybe Return by Death could spare her a kindness, one Subaru could make good on reliving when this was over.
Or maybe Subaru was still trying to justify his greed, infecting more friends with the same sense of helplessness that currently plagued his inner circle.
My people are waiting for me, Subaru realized, making to stand—telling himself to, still seated. But if I just dipped here and now, died later, a-and this world kept going on, then Felt will… she'll be bothered forever. And now Subaru found himself unable to want to leave; not strongly enough to act on it, anyway.
But he had to leave.
He had to run —run away for the umpteenth time.
Maybe this's why the Witches wanted me to see Felt, and use her as a test run. After all, they openly gave Subaru the freedom to approach his friends with the plan however he wished.
The only thing that mattered was getting them to understand, for their sakes as much as his.
"Bro, what's up with you?" Felt's cocked brow knitted. "You've been looking ready to shit yourself. You forgot where the restroom was or something?"
Approximately 1.25 Years Ago, the Night of Emilia's Coronation…
Approximately one year ago, beneath this very sky above the capital, twin meteors burned, hurtling towards the city streets straight down—Reinhardt and the Archbishop of Pride. Moments before, a constant of the loop was Emilia trying to rally her fellow competitors not to victory, but the support of her camp who was directly targeted alongside Crusch's.
Felt had always agreed—to a point. She just needed to hit-and-run Garf to his senses, according to Subaru.
In the final timeline, his "gut feeling" had warned Emilia of their muscle being a problem. Having been so accustomed to winning has given the big guy a thirst for it, so much so he might not take a major loss as "well" as he did his first: that was Subaru's narrative, anyhow. With or without a history of epic wins, Garf was always going to take to Reinhardt's inevitable demise about as well as Felt.
And when it happened, she'd treated Emilia to the same she did Subaru a couple loops prior:
"THE HELL OFF ME, DUMBASS!" And Emilia was socked in the gut, crying out as her eyes bulged, clutching her tummy. Felt snarled, her red eyes redder than normal as she hiked her torn dress to her knees and ran—ran with the wind of her Divine Protection, towards where Reinhardt fell.
She had no idea the battle was still raging between the inflamed Sword Saint and Archbishop of Pride. And so, at Subaru's pleading behest in case "the worst" happened and Reinhardt died, Emilia entrusted Garf to him while she protected Felt.
That was Emilia's recounting, as Subaru meanwhile resigned himself to taking one for the team like always. He followed the roar that shook him to his core—the way it broke in pain.
Not that he needed such a marker after the first loop; the courtyard of the Juukulius estate was, as it had been every loop thus far, a battlefield soaked in blood and pieces of Witch Cultists. Those alive were running, firing various elemental magic across Subaru's sight. Then they scrambled faster, looking straight up as a tiger crash-landed, splattering one before swiping the other into four human steaks. Then the next his head, and another was punched straight in the chest, popping like a meat balloon. And on and on the wince-worthy horror went.
Garf's eyes were so red that they looked bloodshot. Please, don't be so hard on yourself, man. There was really nothing you could do against Pride. But he was going to kill someone (and he had, one friend or another) before he was stopped. Garf didn't even want to kill, which was the biggest problem—he wanted to roar, and damn anyone who got their eardrums blown out.
But Subaru was the type to stick his ear out and make it a point: in the form of running head-first into the slaughter. "Heel, Garfiel! Down boy!" In the shadow of the huge tiger, Subaru told his legs to stop dancing and be brave before deciding against it, for Garf spun and lashed, rounding on Subaru like last time. But he leapt back rather than ducking with his arm in the way as originally planned. "H-ha! Miss—!" Subaru's intestines exploded sideways from his gut, following the direction Garf's claw, now a hand, had swiped.
"Buh—! Bah—!" Garf's frozen, bloodstained face fell away from view, Subaru's back smashing against the cobblestone. The nickname was left unsaid, emotion bellowed instead. Not a roar, but a little boy's horror as Garf's panic filled the view of a starry sky, glowing hands squelching against Subaru's stomach. "H-help?" His wild, green eyes raked the horizon to and fro. "HEEEELP! HEALER, I NEED A HEALER!" But the capital was preoccupied with burning, repelling one hail mary of a Witch Cultist plot to assassinate the candidates' knights: firstly in revenge for Priestella, who were staying overnight at the Juukulius house despite the final round being down to Crusch and Emilia, and second, to rebirth the Witch of Envy.
And they'd succeeded a fair few times.
Felix would be useful right now, but he was knee-deep in a rapidly-rising flood of battlefield injuries. And Subaru's fingers were already freezing. It might be too late. Shit. I don't wanna hafta do this again: all those conversations, backing up the twins…
"Fuck, Boss! Fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm sorry—!"
"Garf—!" Subaru choked, blood coughing up. "S'okay, real— hrk! " He vomited, or so it felt, as a pungent, coppery smell burned around his mouth.
"Fuck, man! Fuck, man! Fuck, man!" Garf's arms were tense with wanting to scratch his hair, claw his scalp bloody—but they were stapled to Subaru's entrails, his weak healing magic at least numbing the pain.
"Th-th—'hanks, man," Subaru grunted, trying with everything he had to maintain composure for Garf's sake. "M-much… much better—"
"Don't treat me like I'm some li'l kid, ya bastard!" Garf's grimace lingered, his eyes squeezing shut. A sob, then another, each one throbbing his blood-covered shoulders. "Why'm I always such a useless piece o' shit, man?! M'sorry, m' so fuckin' sorry, like—! Like—! " Like, there were no words, but Garf just wanted to keep apologizing similarly to the first loop. His teeth clenched before splitting with a scream that became a wail, despair, and finally a deep breath. A moment of composure lingered before it was punctuated by a squeak, then further sobbing. Gard's damp face fell between his straightened biceps, unable to look at Subaru further.
There had to have been a better way at resolving this; but after twenty deaths he was done experimenting. Done being hurt and scared.
I'm the one who's sorry. Subaru was weak and cowardly. Though a part of him had still held out that Garf would relax instead of attacking, seeing his beloved "Boss," that was only Subaru's selfish self-preservation talking. This time was going to be successful, because Subaru had zero intention of ever watching Garfiel Tinzel wail in apology to his undying corpse.
Never again.
Garf should never have to shoulder guilt that bad… however valuable it might be in a lesser, somewhat harmless form. This is a lesson he needed to learn before he does something irreversible.
Again and again these thoughts raced in Subaru's mind, his lips contorting with sorries, intestines everywhere. "Don't—! Don't blame yourself," Subaru croaked aloud, feeling everything start to fade. "Please, Garf, don't…"
"Boss, c'mon! Yer tougher than this! Ya didn't come all this way jus' to lose yer shit, eh?! …EH?!"
With all his strength, through the perpetual tearing-open feeling in his gut, Subaru threw his hand up. Garf was startled as Subaru pet his forearm. "I didn't lose, man," he croaked, "I saved you from killin' someone, s'all…"
"An' yer sure as shit someone t' me, asshole!" Garf's rage crumbled, fresh tears pouring down his cheeks. "Asshole… Boss, yer someone I—! That I loved , man! You was my fuckin' bro, n'so, don't talk … like this don't mean FUCKIN' SHIT! "
If he could ever talk about Return by Death, Subaru promised to himself that he wouldn't. He would own the pain he caused his friends, all of it. But right now, part of Subaru wanted to die this second. To die, make the agony splitting him open to stop, as well as Garf's tears. But it was a fleeting thought, one whisked away with a familiar, heartbreaking scream of, "Subaru!"
Two voices, saying the same thing at the same time with the same emotion.
Subaru had long-since let go of anything in Lugnica, and its happenings, aligning with what he expected watching anime. Deep down, as a defense mechanism, this included a happy ending. That belief buckled as he heard another cry of, "SUBARU!" The voices of two girls who loved and worried for him that much just did something so unintentionally cartoony.
An absurd sense of relief bloomed within, hearing their voices, as Garf was bowled over with a, "Vacate Betty's spot, you damn brute!" He recovered but kept his head bowed to the panting, crying Beatrice. "I no longer share my place by Subaru's side with the likes of you! With those boasting paltry magic, emotional outbursts, and who always hurt S—! "
"Beako, please. Help me." Emilia's face was stern with concentration, head to toe in sweat, blood, and soot, hands glowing warmly on Subaru's stomach all the while. "We can match Felix if you act as my catalyst. Take my hand, I give you permission to drain my mana. Let's save Subaru again."
Beatrice looked with desperate hope, and then regret, before taking Emilia's extended hand, the other joining hers upon Subaru's guts, with matching sternness. The last hour had to have been crazy for her; perhaps even dreamlike. Though she was allowed to attend the Knights' gathering, Subaru urged the chance to spend quality time with Emilia and support her—who had voiced concerns to Subaru about the future of their increasingly romantic friendship and Betty's place in it. For many obvious reasons in retrospect, this pressured Beatrice with the idea of her having to like and even love Emilia if she was to remain Subaru's contracted spirit. She'd tried to play nice for her contractor's sake, but a few comments by an embittered Priscilla planted the idea that Beatrice only got in the way and knew it, and even hoped for it: all of which were sentiments Subaru and Emilia feared she had already, and were trying clumsily to fully understand and placate them if possible. However, Beatrice was Beatrice, and their insistence incited her worst meltdown to date in Subaru's memory.
If only she was dealing with "old Emilia," who would have sacrificed a relationship with Subaru to make Beatrice happy and not hate her. However, Emilia was older now, bolder: she wanted to be with Subaru.
Long, painful story short: a dialogue between the three of them, together, one they'd shared just minutes ago, was enough for Beatrice to at least realize how needlessly anxious she'd been. Subaru and Emilia begged her to believe them, when they said they wanted her in their lives. Especially if they managed to win the Royal Selection, as they were both completely inept without her guidance. Beatrice was quick to warn them that she wasn't going to be useful when it came to running a kingdom by their vision, except that is not what either of them had meant.
Even now, as Subaru's flesh began to rethread and close, Beatrice shot bashful glances from him to Emilia's unflappable composure. That's right, Beako. He smiled meaningfully at her, then his beloved, who startled a shaky smile back. This loving girl wants to dote on you, too. Even after you said all that absolutely horrible crap to her before the checkpoint.
Subaru still wanted to apologize to Beatrice, on that note. Genuinely, heartfelt: this insensitive "Hey, daughter, meet your new mom!" approach left Beatrice wandering the district, alone, with Emilia trying to find her as soon as the checkpoint was marked.
"H-hey…" A tiny voice in the distance. "Hey…!"
Beatrice gave a start as Subaru lifted his head, powering through the agony splitting his guts open. Past a turning Garf, whose fists and jaw dropped at the sight, past the graveyard of cloaked body parts…
"H-help… Rein—"
"The Sword Saint has just taken his last breath, in fact. I'm sorry," Beatrice said in a stiff, thick voice.
Felt, dropped the arm slung around her shoulders, the human-shaped lump of coal falling in a crunchy puff of soot and blue ambers.
"M'sor…" Felt swallowed, only for her mouth to open again. "M'sorry…"
"Don't be, Felt." Emilia shook her head. "If I hadn't heard Garf, Reinhard would be alive, and Subaru…"
"B-but if I didn't—if I just did as you asked, then'e—"
Subaru couldn't keep his eyes open a second longer. You have no reason to apologize, Felt… He thought this as his eyes rolled to the back of his head.
"YO, BRO!"
"Felt, there's something I have to tell you."
"Wha'huh?!"
Subaru looked her dead in the eye. "It's serious, and it's horrible, and it's something you have the right to know," he said, fist latching onto his tattered sleeve. "When you get down to it, it's both the reason why I'm here, why I look like this, and why things are so awkward with my inner circle right now. It's all connected to this one thing. Though, at the same time, they're all separate issues that aren't related to each other. Kinda. Um… and, also, sorry. I'm really sorry for what I'm about to tell you. 'Cause it's gonna hurt, Felt. Alot."
Felt's eyes blinked hugely before she took the bottle swinging to her lips, chugging once, twice, three-four times before it thunked against the table. Felt gasped, wiped her mouth, half-lidded.
"Awright, shoot."
Subaru couldn't help but smile now. "I'm surprised you're taking this so seriously."
Felt collapsed on her forehead. "The hell kinda sociopath do ya take me for?!" she snarled in his face.
"The kind who would leave a guy in an alley about to be stabbed by Chin and his goons." Subaru had said that without so much as a whim.
He didn't mean to have that come out.
He didn't.
But when he heard the question, Subaru saw Felt scaling a building to leave some idiot nobody to their fate. "That's… my first impression of you." A valid one at that.
"Hmph. Well, my first impression was that you're a nosy lapdog for the nice half-elf."
"And have you ever wondered how I knew so much? Why I acted so familiar with you, and antsy before Emilia showed up at this loot house?"
Felt rose a brow. "What're you getting at, bro?"
"Just answer my question, please. It'll be easier for you to understand if we go about it this way. I-I-I think…"
Felt snorted. "'Kay? Well, honestly, I thought you were some stalker of Emilia's who knew someone wanted her got. A weirdo, but not evil. At least, that was clear when you came back to the capital, and was still stuck in the Friendzone!"
"My home in the Friendzone was wilful, mind you, for sweet Emilia was too—!"
"Infantile."
"I was gonna say 'pure.'"
"However you slice it, she was clearly too sheltered to even realize you were hitting on her half the time. Now, what's this gotta do with… whatever it is you wanna say?"
"Because… there's a reason behind all my weirdness. Aside from personality issues."
Felt puffed her cheeks at Subaru's seriousness. "I never realized you could be so complex."
"I see you still haven't experienced much of the world, Princess."
"I see you're still an overly-sensitive little baby, Your Grace." Felt winked. "Just a joke, bro."
"I know that," Subaru drawled dopily. "Anyway… so the reason is… a bit hard to approach, now that the serious atmosphere is ruined."
Felt grinned drunkenly, throwing her hand up. "Jus' say it. C'mon."
"You sure?"
"Yeah, go fer it."
Subaru steeled himself. "Alright," he said, taking a breath, "I can Return by Death."
"Whassat?"
"Return by Death."
"You… 'return' where? And by dying? How?"
"Whadda ya mean, 'how?!' By getting my ass killed! Shanked by Chin or Elsa, for instance!"
"What? S'this a joke?"
"Felt."
Felt's hands were up beside her face, wide-eyed and flushed with alcohol. "I-If this is a joke… m'gonna annihilate you."
Subaru exhaled, realizing he must look furious. "It's not your fault, none of it," he sighed, palming his forehead. "It just hurt. A lot. And that… left a bad first impression on me. Not you."
"B-because I ran?" Felt asked in a mouse's squeak of a voice.
"You looked out for yourself. Not a stranger."
"Naw. Just you, bro… B-bro…" Felt's eyes filled with tears before they were scrubbed away.
"You avenged Old Man Rom, once. And you came back this time to help me. You're not a bad person, Felt."
Her eyes flashed wetly. "It's creepy as shit, the way you always know how I feel!"
Subaru couldn't bear to look at her a second longer—or ever again for that matter. "Yeah." This was it. "I get it." This was the reaction he'd been waiting for. "M'sorry—"
"No, shut up!" Felt was fighting back tears, raging through them. "Just shut your mouth, you bastard! Just—! Just…" Her head dropped, fists trembling on either side. "What?! Have you done this before're some shit?" Subaru was prepared to deny this and tell her the rest—everything else—but she was faster: "No, m'sorry…" And then, she snapped, "Why didn't you run? Didn't you understand how strong the Bowel Cutter is? If I hadn't run into Reinhardt, what would you and Emilia have done, huh?!"
"Dunno." Subaru wondered if it was his answer or bluntness which stunned Felt. "I can see me throwing myself at Elsa until I'd gone crazy, honestly. That's the kinda messed-up person I am."
"Yeah, no shit! No shit…" Felt held the sides her head face, eyes wide and wild.
"I understood how important Emilia's insignia was, though. Plus, I couldn't've left decent people like you and Old Man Rom to get got. That's part of why I came back, actually."
"For a gal who woulda left that mess, if she could Return by Death?"
"I'm friends with people who've literally tortured me, if not watched, as I died."
Instead of chuckling, Felt's face went slack with quiet horror. "Why the fuck are you saying that like it's some kinda badge'f honor? Are you that fucked in the head?!"
"You got a problem with how little of a shit I give?" In spirit, Subaru addressed this to his friends in the castle.
"Hell yeah, I do. That's not normal. Normal people don't get cozy with the psychos they got mental shit over. And if you give so little of a shit, then... wh-why didn't you save Reinhardt, you selfish bastard?!"
A Meeting That Will Only Happen Once
