His legs still sore, his arms still itching with singular impulse, Subaru traversed the mansion's interior in a pattern that he could almost retrace while blindfolded.
Upon reflecting that hypothetical scenario, the thought of actually trying to do so while deprived of his sense of sight did graze his skull, if only to impress his lady.
Then again, knowing himself and his luck, he would likely slip up, injuring and embarrassing himself in the process.
Much like what he did but a few moments ago.
There was a long, somewhat soothing silence within the landscape of his mind, but then it was besieged once more.
Thoughts concerning the unnecessary attention he had brought upon himself with his mishaps.
Following those, with the natural sway of the dancing guests of a luxurious party, were thoughts of the clear distress plastered across their faces, and just how much it stung to acknowledge that the reason for it was due to his own shortcomings.
No matter, no matter, no matter.
He repeated to himself, there was something, or rather someone, far more important than any thought.
Two gentle, but decisive knocks resonated across the wooden door that led to the Half-elven candidate, a motion that served the duplicitous purpose of announcing his presence to the room's inhabitant and to assert his focus within his own head.
"Rise and shine, my Lady! My Mili! My EMT! Your knight stands at your door, ready to shower you with the praise and attention you deserve!"
Shortly after the boisterous announcement, the faint sound of an innocent giggle could be clearly heard from behind the door.
"Oh, Subaru! Please give me a few minutes, you're reeeeaaaally early today!"
While he wished for nothing else than to see her already, the knight waited patiently, with the sound of the half-elf's voice being more than enough to tide him over, pouring a sense of blissful excitement into his ears.
The wait's length, in and of itself, wasn't anything to write home about, but the fact that he stood there, almost motionless, seemingly tossed his mind into a dreadfully familiar state of stagnation.
What if he messed up again? Throughout this day he seemed to never get anything right.
What if he made her worry? The image of both Beatrice and Petra's concerned expressions flashed across his mind's eye.
What if she found out? Tumbling thoughts of her, and likely everyone else's, disappointment in him began to swoop down, threatening to drag his very soul into a bottomless pit.
And the closer he felt to said pit, the more something began to metaphorically coil around his heart and lungs in manner not unlike that of a creeping snake.
It wasn't the Witch's hand, but something perhaps even more insidious, a feeling that had been tailing him ever since the start of this day, or perhaps even earlier.
And with each intrusive thought, with each slip-up, with each misstep, the sensation grew tighter and tighter.
It was a deep, enveloping fear welling up within the confines of his brain, like water slowly flooding a room.
He had been trying to ignore it, believing that doing so would somehow staunch the water's flow, but the awareness that he was already knee-deep in it simply couldn't be shoved aside in favor of more pleasant thoughts.
"Uhm… Subaru? Is something wrong?"
Once more, his attention was pulled back to reality, his sight now properly elaborating what laid in front of him, as Emilia was now standing before him and the door previously separating them was now open.
In a few instants, the boy's reflexes kicked in, causing his face to twist into an embarrassed smile, one constituted of genuine emotion rather than practiced politeness.
"O-oh! No! Absolutely not at all Mili! I was just mesmerized by the wonderful gemstones that are your eyes!"
For as much as those words were accompanied by a tone of dishonesty, there was a hint of truth alongside it all.
Her eyes were one of the many, many things he loved about her.
Just gazing upon them caused all sorts of memories to pass by within his mind, such as their very first meeting, their first date and the moment of vulnerability she showed him at the Sanctuary.
Emotions flooded his heart, filling it with that familiar warmth he had been craving since the start of this day.
For a few moments, his legs trembled ever so slightly, the beats within his chest intensified and the smile on his face began to feel far more natural.
These sensations were amplified by his lady's reaction, which amounted to a small sigh of relief, accompanied by a faint, but noticeable smile.
"Alright then, come on in! Ram will likely scold us if we keep standing around in the corridor…"
He simply nodded in response as he followed her into the room, then sat on the bed side by side.
Despite becoming somewhat of a habit in the past few months, it still felt surreal to him that she would feel confident enough to allow him to be this close to her.
To a part of him, all of this still felt hard to believe, every component of what had been his past months in this world was something that seemed to sprout straight out of a fever dream, for better or for worse.
Up until recently, the passage of time in and of itself had barely ever grazed his thoughts, preoccupied as he was with every hurdle that he had to go up against.
Comparatively to the rest of his mostly uneventful life, he had experienced both highs and lows that no one would reasonably expect to reach throughout their time.
Each loop he had been forced through felt like an extremely unconventional trial by fire, one in which said fire scorched him down to his very soul, forcing him to pick himself back up from the ashes time after time.
And every single one of those times in which he had finally triumphed felt like a sigh of relief from the deepest parts of his being.
And yet, perhaps in spite of all his victories, he found his mind's eye slowly traversing a metaphorical gallery, its walls displaying portraits of all his unsuccessful attempts, all the times he had brushed against death, all the times he had to face the horrifying consequences of his failures.
For every gruesome sight the eye gazed upon, a firm, noticeable weight found its way upon the shoulders of his soul. Each time he had been disemboweled, drained, crushed, tortured, frozen solid, possessed, devoured both from the outside and the inside sent a sharp, grueling shiver across his body. Those images weren't mere depictions, as they came with sounds, emotions and sensations that attempted to engulf him, to drag him into those moments as if he had traveled back in time, as if a piece of himself never truly returned from death.
Then, another sensation made itself known to him, its nature almost immediately apparent, and yet odd in its feeling. It was soft, smooth and warm, possibly in the starkest of contrasts against every other element within his mind's landscape, but upon further thought being given to it, there was also a cold firmness sustaining it as a foundation.
It was perhaps that slight chill that caused the rampant descent of his consciousness to freeze in its tracks, pulling away the curtains that were obscuring his view of reality.
Speaking of this view, it held aspects of pleasant familiarity, as it was the room he had just walked into, the room in which he had gotten used to spending time with the very first person to ever show him a modicum of kindness in this strange and dangerous world.
From the slight tilt in his viewpoint to the soft sensation of his cheek pressed against her shoulder Subaru quickly realized that, in his stress-induced haze, he had been instinctively leaning on Emilia, in more ways than a purely physical one.
Alongside his realization came a sense of embarrassment, enough to cause a slight parting of his lips in an attempt to utter something, perhaps a word of apology for his absent-mindedness, but it was quickly halted in the middle of its conception, as he noticed a few more details regarding his current position.
The arm belonging to the shoulder he was resting his head on had circled its way around his back, the hand at the end of it was now holding the shoulder opposite to the direction of his leaning head. The other hand belonging to his lady had begun to gently, slowly stroking his hair, with a touch that was delicate enough not to be intrusive, but still exercised enough force to be noticeable.
It felt as jarring as it was sudden, but before being any of either, it was soothing, it felt as if each caress was a slow wave that washed over the shores of his mind, swiping away a bit of the seemingly endless filth therein with every movement.
"...thank you, Mili…"
In spite of his exhaustion, he still remembered she'd rather hear those words instead of a thousand apologies.
From his perspective, he couldn't see her face, yet somehow he could feel that there was a faint smile upon her lips.
"Hm… would you like to rest for a while? You sound reeeaaally tired, and there's still a fair bit of time before I have to get back to my studies…"
When those words reached his ears, his hands clutched themselves into fists with such force that one could expect the fingers to pierce the palms.
Welling up from within his chest, a chaotic swirl of ever-growing emotions that kicked, screamed and tore at his inner walls.
The urge to yell at the top of his lungs.
The desire to pour his heart out.
The wish for those closest to him to acknowledge his struggles.
The need to allow himself to cry, as he did more than once before.
And yet, in spite of it all, his mouth remained shut and his eyes dry, with the only movement in response to her words being a slow, subtle nod.
It wasn't mere, stubborn strength of will that halted his from shouting out all of his inner turmoil, as he could feel something else stifling everything he felt.
It felt as if a thick, numbing veil of apathy had tightly wrapped itself around his soul, numbing and silencing any and all manner of feelings and sensations that dared to take shape within him.
Everything slowed down to a crawl, his eyelids slowly closing as he attempted to drift off into slumber, perhaps his one and only refuge from the trappings of his life.
Still, the mud of numbness coated his psyche, and in the middle of it all, he could hear his own cognition's voice echoing out:
"Why?"
"Why do I feel like this?"
"When did this happen to me?"
"Didn't I promise that I'd try to love myself a bit more?"
Following these questions, another one, perhaps the one that was the hardest to ask among them all.
"Why do I keep doing this to myself?"
He couldn't help but wonder.
How could someone like him, who always tried to encourage others to do their best in spite of their flaws and hardships, feel so drained and demotivated?
Why, now that there was no imminent threat, now that he could finally relax and enjoy this newfound life, did everything feel so… empty?
Was he letting himself go again? Was this just going to be a retread of his old life? A slow, crumbling spiral into monotonous, silent suffering?
In spite of it all, none of these questions shook him with as much vigor as the following one:
...was he going to remain alone again?
That last inquiry sent his heart slamming against his chest, clogging up his lungs and setting his brain on fire.
More than any gory detail of his deaths, more than any arduous conflict he had to endure, more than any other misfortune that could befell him, that was the worst, most terrifying scenario of all.
After all, he had no clue for how much longer he would have to drag himself through this.
What if he couldn't take it anymore? Even so, he wouldn't even be able to reveal the full extent of his suffering to those closest to him. And even if he might be able to at some point, would that be for the best? Would they ever look at him the same way, after they knew just how many times he had to meet his end?
No matter what, no matter how much he tried to envision a brighter outlook, no matter how hard he pushed himself along the way, he could see nothing but dead ends.
Every muscle in his body tensed up as these thoughts held a tight, inescapable stranglehold on his consciousness as he desperately thrashed around, hoping to shake it off.
He kept on trying to move, to squirm in that suffocating grasp, but to no avail.
As he finally gave in, his eyes spontaneously opened up, as if being roused from a slumber fraught with nightmares.
This time, as the awareness of reality returned to him, he still felt a tight hold wrapped around himself, but this one instigated a very different sensation once he realized its nature.
In his sleep, his half-elven lady had been holding him close to herself. While decisively more intense, this gesture reminded him of when the other inhabitants of the mansion had held his hand to comfort him during his uneasy rest.
In contrast to Emilia's embrace, he could still feel the tension in his muscles, specifically in his arms, within which he felt an acute, stinging pain, one for which he quickly found an explanation as he noticed that, likely once again in his sleep, he had crossed his arms, the fingers of one hand intensely pressing into the other's forearm, as if they were nails being hammered into wood.
It was a bewildering confluence, with one side wrapping him up into a blanket of comfort and the other stirring him awake, as the pain offered a momentary respite, a long-needed moment of silence within his labyrinthine thoughts, if only for a short while.
Sensing her movement, likely in response to his abrupt awakening, he quickly released the tense grasp over his own arms, the pain still lingering onto them.
When they were once again face to face, her expression did not feature the smile he had imagined beforehand, instead of it lied the principle of a frown accompanied by a look that featured concern and dismay alike.
There were few things he hated more than seeing her like that, especially if it was because of him.
Still, the pain he had just inflicted upon himself granted just enough clarity to focus his efforts into reciprocating her hug while attempting to offer comfort of his own through a smile.
"Subaru, did something happen? You started moving around so suddenly…"
Hearing the distress in her voice dealt a sizable blow to his resolve, yet he tried to stubbornly power through it.
"No, Mili, nothing in particular… I've just been a bit tired as of late, it's the reason why I came to you earlier than usual today, since nothing heals my weary heart more than your angelic affection!"
Among the many, many things he despised about himself, being a terrible liar was certainly among the greatest of them.
"...do you remember what I told you back at the Sanctuary?"
"Well, yes, of course! You said that you wanted to make up for everything that had been done for you, to give back after everything that was given, right?"
"Precisely… so, even if you are my knight… no, because you are my knight, I want you to tell me when something's wrong… what kind of ruler would I be if I couldn't be of any help to those closest to me?"
"I know, Mili, I know, and you're doing great! That hug you gave me was exactly what I needed! I feel so much better now and it's all thanks to you!"
For all the conviction he could pour into them, those words rang with a hint of hollowness in his head.
In that moment, Beatrice's words came back to haunt him, sending an uneasy chill down his spine.
Still, in spite of his poor acting, Emilia's face did seem to soften up, giving way to an expression of slight embarrassment, likely due to how close their faces were throughout their exchange.
After she replied to him with a nod, they both stood up and Subaru began to make his way towards the door after giving his lady a small bow.
"I'm afraid I have to go now, and you have your own duties to attend to, Mili, I'll be seeing you later! Don't forget to give it your all! I'm sure my amazing EMT will make it, no matter what!"
As his lady let out a faint giggle, he let out a small sigh of relief, then turned around and moved to open up the door.
But in that instant, he felt something stop his momentum.
As he turned around, he could see that Emilia was holding one of his hands with both of her own.
"Uhm… Mili, I think now I have to be the one asking you… is everything okay?"
He said, while a deep, red blush sprouted upon his cheeks, caught off guard as he was.
"Yes, is it wrong for a lady to hold her knight's hand? And besides, I thought you enjoyed it when I do so!"
He took a bit of time to properly read the expression on her face. Her gaze was fixed on the hand held between her own, her mouth giving way to a genuine, warm smile.
On any other occasion he would have been overjoyed to see that girl wearing such a wonderful expression and yet, when he followed her gaze all the way to his own hand, as images of those same fingers scratching, pulling and tearing away at his own flesh waltzed through his head.
In that moment, his arms were once again beset by that itching, aching urge, one that he knew all too well.
It clawed, gnawed and whispered at him, goading him into indulging that ghastly habit, just for that modicum of silence.
But he couldn't, not in front of her, he could never, ever forgive himself if he even so much as entertained the thought of it.
Knowing that her eyes were looking elsewhere, he turned his head away and allowed his upper teeth to sink into his lower lip, with just enough force to discharge the accumulated tension, even if only partially so.
Eventually, after what felt like an eternity to him, Emilia let go of his hand, and he made his way into the corridor.
Out of what could be described as mere impulse, he felt the need to slightly glance back at the half-elf a moment before leaving, but fought against it.
For the expression on his face was something he didn't want anyone, let alone her, to ever see.