The wrinkles formed on his forehead were aligned with his eyebrows, further accentuating the naturally sharp and intense gaze of his eyes, now bloodshot due to sheer stress. Beneath them, a frowning mouth from which a small, but noticeable trickle of blood was oozing out, slithering down his chin and making its way towards his neck.
Mechanically, as if moved more by force of habit rather than any instinct of self-preservation, Subaru wiped away the thin red line, pushing down on his lips in an attempt to staunch the flow.
Putting one foot in front of the other, he kept walking across the corridor, hoping to reach somewhere, anywhere in which he could be left alone and undisturbed.
But as he tried to think of a place, he clearly discerned that his intrusive thoughts had only abated for a short while. Within seconds, his psyche was assailed by an impetuous wave of questions and accusations.
But to his mind's ears they all blended and blurred together, for despite how much rest he had been able to cut out for himself, he still felt tired, far too tired to properly elaborate any of the poisonous notions that were oozing from his brain.
In fact, it had been a long, long while since he hadn't felt tired, exhausted and drained.
No matter how much sleep he may have gotten, he would always wake up as if an unseen weight was pushing down on him.
It made even the smallest, simplest task feel like a grind.
It turned the most exciting parts of his routine into a series of dull chores.
It crushed the joyous moments into an indistinct mass of barely recognizable sensations.
Throughout these considerations, there was yet another touch of malice, an additional nail in the suffocating coffin:
In spite of his apathy's weight, the itching, aching sensation that had burrowed under his skin still made its presence known.
Through the stress it had grown, or rather, festered within his soul.
Metaphorically speaking, one could compare it to a mob, their faces twisted into a wall of inquisitive gazes.
At the center of said mob, surrounded and with no escape in sight, would lie our hero.
No matter how many bonds he may have forged along the way, in these moments there's no one.
No one except for him, his thoughts, and the only form of abatement he can perceive.
He's been here before, he knows what those "people" represent.
For every misstep, one more joins their crowd.
For every failure, one more of them adds to their demands.
For every single time his life slips between his fingers like sand from a broken hourglass, they all wish for the same thing.
And he knows exactly what they want.
In fact, he knew so well that, with the same mechanical nature as his previous gesture, his hand reached towards the hidden shard of ceramic.
But within that moment, his instinctive movements were just slow enough to allow him a small moment of clarity.
As if he were acting as his own diplomat, he argued that he was in the middle of a corridor, a place where anyone could have walked in at any moment, catching him dead in the act.
Not to mention, he had already acted strangely enough in the eyes of the people who trusted him, so it would perhaps be best to indulge the spilling of his own blood in a more isolated, safe place, away from prying eyes.
And convincing himself of that was what he needed to pinpoint a place in which he was certain none would disturb him.
With no further room allowed for his thoughts, he stepped forth in the direction of his goal. For the first time during this day, he felt determined, perhaps even unshakable.
Within those moments, he felt truly focused.
Nothing could stand in his way.
He would march forward all the way to the end and-
...unceremoniously bump into something, or rather, someone, as soon as he turned the corner.
Not long after recovering from the impact, the knight narrowed his eyes, as the sight of a familiar figure manifested itself.
In spite of the slight confusion caused by the scuffle, he could clearly recognize the ashen gray hair, blue eyes and green attire that characterized Otto Suwen's appearance.
"You really ought to be more careful when turning a corner, Mister Natsuki!"
Those were the words he heard from the Emilia Camp's Head of Internal Affairs, but his current position wasn't the issue.
The issue was that this man, out of all people, had seen through the tough act he put on every single day of his life once before, and was rather… direct when it came to confronting him about it.
To further delve into said issue, while Subaru did manage to keep his innermost apocalypse at bay, he was most certainly not in the shape necessary to entertain a proper conversation of any sort.
If one were to compare the current state of his mind to something, it would be a juggler trying to keep their performance going on despite days of fatigue, while walking on a tightrope suspended at quite the perilous height, and the added weight of maintaining his facade in front of Otto would be comparable to a raging inferno taking the place of the cold hard ground.
"O-oh! Y-yeah! You're sooo right Otto! I'm being especially clumsy today!"
On any other day, conversations such as this one wouldn't have been an issue, even if he felt dead tired, but today was an entirely different matter.
Not because this day was special in any particular way, but simply because today just so happened to be the day in which something he had been ignoring for far too long had finally caught up to him.
For as much as he may have wished to brush it off to the side, it was clear to him that his consciousness was filled to its very brim with a swirling vortex of repressed emotions, thoughts and feelings, all of which he had slothfully procrastinated to address.
Certainly, one can attempt to ignore a glaring fracture within their own mind, but it is not an endeavor that can be maintained indefinitely, and this irrefutable truth was currently crashing down on him with the strength of a thousand avalanches.
To worsen the situation further, his awkward silence as he simply stood there, caught up in his own brain's trappings, trying to come up with a follow-up to his previous statement.
"Uhm… you know Otto, I'd… really, really like to chat with you, but right now I'm… extremely, incredibly busy! Yeah! You wouldn't believe the workload I've got on my hands today! It's been a whole lot of pressure and nothing else!"
Subaru verbalized, the true extent of his words only dawning on him when it was far, far too late.
"Really?! Then I'd say that our abrupt meeting today might really come in handy for you! I'd just got done taking care of my work for this day, so you can count on me for any sort of help you might need!"
The merchant replied, excitement clear in his eyes.
In what would be perhaps best described as the starkest of contrasts, a loud, soul-piercing scream echoed within Subaru's rib cage, but it never truly left his lungs.
If there ever was a moment in which he cursed his own terrible acting, this was chief among them.
"...well, Otto, I really appreciate your enthusiasm, truly! But I'm afraid that the matters I must attend to are… specific to my position as a knight! Yes! And besides, since you just got done, I'd say you've earned a good day's rest!"
As each syllable departed from his lips, he took a step further down the corridor, aiming desperately for that one safe space.
And maybe, just maybe, had he chosen his words more wisely, he might have been able to make it without any further hindrance.
But that was simply not the case, as he quickly felt a tight grip on his right shoulder, halting his "escape" dead in its tracks.
Mirroring the clutched hand in reality, the fiery, slithering grasp of anxiety coiled its way around his lungs and heart.
The fact that, shortly after, he was pushed against the wall and his friend was staring right into his eyes with a rather stern gaze did most certainly not help.
"...Subaru Natsuki, I know that, in spite of your accomplishments, you are one of the densest, most stubborn people I know, but… have you really forgotten what I told you back in the woods that day?"
Those words didn't simply sting, they skewered his psyche's fragile barriers.
That question turned the burning coils around his heart into a scorching wildfire.
And just like fire, it began to spread.
From his heart to his lungs.
From his lungs to his throat.
From his throat to his head.
A head brimming with all sorts of volatile, unattended thoughts.
And yet, there was not a single conflagration to be perceived.
For no matter how much the boy within that body wished to cry out, scream and hurl all of his woes away, he was encased within a wretched prison, devised by his own self, and that very same self served as the jailer.
"Why are you still hiding behind that tough act? I thought I made it abundantly clear that it's unnecessary!"
Otto's words echoed inside of his skull, as the knight closed his eyes, unable to look at his friend.
And an echo of its own manifested itself in response.
"Stop…"
But it was never truly uttered, instead dashing itself against the walls of the mind that conjured it.
"I am your friend! And I'm sure I'm not the only one!"
Once again, another "answer" slammed against the barricade.
"Please stop…"
"There are so many people that you can rely on!"
"Not here, not now, not for this…"
"And I'm one of them! So tear down that front and tell me! Tell me what you need help with!"
"Please, you don't know what you're talking about, please stop, it hurts…"
"Do I have to punch you in the face once again to make you understand? I'd rather not do it, but if that's what it takes, then I…"
"...STOP!"
Once again, an answer that was being shouted at the top of his burning lungs, but found no way towards its recipient…
…or so he initially believed.
For the green-robed merchant had suddenly fallen silent, which prompted him to open his eyes once again.
And what he saw was Otto Suwen's face, stricken with a startled look of shock and incredulity.
In his pupils, Subaru could see his own reflection, his own, haunting expression, twisted by burning turmoil and lashing anger.
As if it were a sunbeam falling upon a reflective surface, the distress on his friend's face soon found its way on his own.
Had he truly, albeit unknowingly, lashed out at him?
Was he truly so lost, adrift within the maelstrom of his own emotions?
"Otto… I… I am so… sorry…"
Those words trickled down from his mouth, barely audible through the cracks in his exhausted voice.
The realization struck down any attempt at coherent, reasonable thought, leaving him with naught but his most basic sense of self-preservation.
And through this sense, he almost instinctively shook himself free from the merchant's hold, darting down the hallway, with the door to the desired place as his only clear thought.
Was his friend shouting at him to stop? Was he running behind him, attempting to catch up? He couldn't tell, he couldn't think, for even the mere attempt at entertaining any notion of reason seemed impossibly out of his reach.
Opening the door as soon as it was in sight, slamming it shut behind him and locking it, he laid down restless and beaten, with the weight of everything that had transpired until then dragging him down to his knees.
If he didn't know any better, he would have expected to sink into the very floor, out of guilt and shame.
Why?
Why couldn't he face him?
Why did he respond that way?
Couldn't he just take it in strides and carry on like he always did?
Why was this day becoming worse and worse with each interaction?
Questions, doubts, uncertainties encircled him like a flock of ravenous vultures, waiting to feast upon what remained of the boy's sanity.
But in the midst of it all, there was one figure, one candlelight that managed to claim his attention, and with it, offering a momentary respite.
The familiar sight of an azure-haired girl.