Those locks of blue hair.
His eyes, sore with sheer stress, locked themselves on that figure.
Those soft, delicate features.
The young man slowly began walking, or rather, dragging himself towards her.
That peaceful, silent expression, as if she was merely relaxing in blissful slumber.
The knight's arms, itching and burning with that devilish urge to tear and rend their own flesh, stretched out towards one of her hands.
Now more than ever, he wished he could see those bright, blue eyes alongside that warm smile which, in his own words, made his heart flutter.
As soon as his fingers laid upon hers, a sigh of deep relief departed from his lungs, causing him to slowly, slightly rise back up from the pit of metaphorical mud he had been sinking in since his first waking moments of this day.
His hands, tired, twitching and trembling, clutched around the lithe, motionless hand of the girl to whom he had promised a piece of his heart.
The very same hand that, all the way back to that moment of utter, all-encompassing despair, had pulled him away from falling into that very same pit.
And now, he was holding onto that hand as if it were an anchor, a ledge he grabbed onto to desperately prevent himself from plummeting downwards any further than he already had.
Mustering up what little strength he had left, Subaru leaned closer to her, his voice now little more than a stuttering whisper.
"...today was… rough, to say the least…"
Deep within the recesses of his psyche, the boy was begging to hear something, anything, from that sweet, caring voice.
But no sound left her lips.
All he received for his efforts was unceremonious silence.
On one hand, silence was something he felt in need of, the calm and quiet of the room heavily contrasted the chaos and commotion from just a few moments before.
But on the other, the lack of any response only further accentuated one of the many feelings weighing down on his heart's shoulders.
A heart that kept on aching.
A soul with cracks and bruises all over its surface.
A mind tearing at the seams.
And a body ensnared in the throes of exhaustion.
Each of these components of his being were, for lack of a better word, lamenting the sorry, ruinous state that they were in.
It felt as if each of them held a shape all its own, and stood in a circle around him.
Staring at him.
Judging him.
Blaming him.
"...you know, I've been going on and on like this for… a while… but…"
Those words were forced out of his mouth, perhaps in an attempt to stifle and delay the encroaching, ruminating thoughts by focusing on speaking to his silent interlocutor.
"...but it's been a bit difficult as of late, and I really don't get why… nothing noteworthy happened since we moved to the new mansion…"
As he spoke, his eyes slowly turned towards his own arms.
"...then again, I'd like to say I've been managing it pretty well, until today… well…"
Something within those words caused his resolve to stumble.
An awareness that he wasn't being entirely truthful to her.
"...well, there's something I'd like to ask of you…"
Even though he knew that his words would only echo into the room's silence, he paused for a few moments.
"...even if I keep doing this to myself…"
His arms tensed up, the skin covering them itching and aching for him to give into the urge.
"...even if I failed to save you…"
His heart pounded against the confines of his chest, its weight feeling greater than what any would consider even remotely natural.
"...am I still your hero, Rem?"
After that inquiry, there was a long moment of silence, as if he was merely waiting for her to reply.
And it was exactly that silence, growing longer and longer, that threatened to devour him, to plunge him into the depths of his own consciousness.
"...do you still love me, Rem?"
The quiet after his question only served to exacerbate his suffering.
Suffering that, in that moment, in that condition, in that state, he knew one and only one way to abate.
And that was the way he would follow, as he sat with his back turned on her, rolled up his left sleeve, grabbed a hold of the ceramic shard and laid its tip onto the arm's exposed skin.
While in the usual circumstances he would exercise a fair bit more caution, carefully tracing the cut or scratch in a way that would make the scars easier to conceal, this movement was far more swift and brutal, in a manner akin to a hungering beast ravaging a carcass.
And there it was, that sharp, painful, stinging and yet somehow… relieving sensation.
He was never quite sure if it was the eerie sound of squelching flesh being severed, the sight of trickling blood, or perhaps the pain in and of itself that silenced the thoughts, that appeased the gazing judges, that satiated the starving creatures.
It didn't matter to him, all he cared about was putting his mind, heart and soul to rest, even if it came at the expense of his body.
But he knew all too well that a mere singular cut wouldn't be nearly enough, the reveling crowd of his thoughts demanded a fair bit more to be satisfied.
And so he repeated the process, each time running the sharp edge across a different portion of his arm, over and over again.
For as painful as it might have been, nothing could surpass the reprieve that would come soon after, as ephemeral as it may have been.
His mind's focus happened to drift towards the very first time he performed this gruesome act upon himself, back when he first punctured his flesh with a quill, hoping not to fall asleep for that, at the time, would have spelled his doom.
He had come this far from then, and yet this felt as the only way through which he could let his inner turmoil spill out, the only way to provide himself with enough room to breathe.
It was in the middle of this morbid ritual that his sight caught a slight, but noticeable gleam not too far away from where he was sitting.
Had it not been so sudden, he might not have been shaken by the sudden apparition, which caused him to abruptly pull away the shard and, unfortunately, stain small portions of his clothes with droplets of blood.
But he had no time nor nearly enough focus left to spare to such details, as he hastily stood up to the best of his dwindling ability to face the source of the faint, blueish light that quickly blinked in and out of sight.
And as said light subsided, it left a rather familiar figure within Subaru's field of vision, one that on any other occasion he would have been more than happy to see.
Beatrice's small, yet vibrant appearance was hard to mistake for one belonging to anyone else.
And just as he looked at her somber smile, the same one she had left him with earlier that day, quickly yield its place to a look of shock, which then turned into a silent frown that gazed downwards, his heart sank.
"...Beako… I… I'm sorry… I wasn't… uh… expecting you here…"
Without any words uttered in response to his, the spirit walked her way over to him, her gaze now aligned with his battered arm, as she extended her right hand, reaching up to a few centimeters away from the flayed and sliced skin, producing the familiar glow of healing sorcery.
The young knight was, to put it generously, at a complete loss for words.
His restlessness, his gnawing guilt and the fact that his act of penitence had been interrupted halfway through left a momentary blank inside of his mind.
The fact that Beatrice remained silent throughout the whole process only made everything feel more and more jarring.
His underlying instincts were urging him to stop her, so he could resume carrying out his due punishment, but he appealed to how utterly exhausted he was in order to keep said urge at bay.
It was a frail, fickle balance the one Subaru's mental state now found itself in, if it could even be defined as such in the first place.
"This measure of yours is anything but temporary, is it, I wonder?"
Her words broke the silence, and the boy's composure alongside it, as he crumbled onto his knees, prompting her to catch him in his fall to the best of her ability, given her diminutive size.
Opposing her rather sharp tone, her gesture betrayed a warm sense of caring affection.
A gesture that he felt gravely undeserving of.
"...thank you Beako, but… I don't… I'm sorry… I… I…"
His words slowly faded out, as he found himself unable to properly form any sort of sentence.
Tried as he might, no collection of words would deign to manifest itself within the array of his ideas.
"Betty's Subaru should save his breath right now, rather than waste it with words, I suppose."
While the phrase itself carried the typically harsh structure she was known for, the tone and the overall delivery of it felt a lot more… gentle than the usual.
Those words, coupled with the fact that she was now slowly, somewhat clumsily caressing his hair left the boy in a state of silent appreciation.
He felt as if he had been walking for hundreds, thousands of miles without ever stopping, and now he had finally a chance to rest his weary self.
It was a moment in which he could lay down the weight that had been so thoroughly crushing him.
A moment within which, even if he still couldn't bring himself to let out all those tears welling up within the vicinity of his eyes, he could at least let himself slowly breathe, in and out.
A moment that, unlike the gory display he had made of his left arm, didn't grant that immediate rush of gratification, but instead worked to slowly ease the grasp of his own cognitive contents and impulses.
A moment that, both abruptly and unfortunately, was cut short by a sound most startling.
The sound of knocking on the room's wooden door.
"Uhm… Mister… no, Subaru, are you in there?"
That was, unmistakably, Otto's voice. A voice that he truly wished he wouldn't hear until he had properly recovered from his currently state, a state that it would have been merciful to describe as merely unstable.
"Betty's contractor is rather busy at the moment, in fact!"
The girl's response took him by surprise, albeit a pleasant one, one that made him hope that his moment of reprieve would resume shortly.
But his hope, in a manner not unlike that of the aforementioned moment, began to shake at its foundation once an answer was heard from the other side of the door.
"W-well, I can imagine, but this is a bit urgent, Miss Beatrice!"
Still, the kneeling knight trusted his spiritual confidant, as he tried to maintain whatever sliver of calm he could muster by maintaining a slow and steady breath, even though his body had begun to tremble.
"It is far, far more than urgent! Open this door at once, Barusu!"
When presented with the choice of ascertaining which fact had caused Subaru more stress and discomfort, one would be hard pressed to pick between the sudden nature of the phrase in and of itself, its contents, or the fact that it belonged to Ram.
As an immediate reaction, he bit his lower lip again.
Perhaps this was all just a very long, bad dream, and soon enough he would wake up, ready to start a new day and leave this increasingly nightmarish scenario behind.
After all, he had plenty of unpleasant dreams up until this point, one could say they would await him almost regularly behind the doors of his sleep.
But the pain did nothing, for he was indeed awake.
"Miss Ram, please don't pressure him! I think the situation is more complicated than it may seem at first glance!"
Once again, Otto's voice ringed out.
"I know Otto, it's just that all of us here are a bit… worried, even though I'm fairly sure it will be fine! It's probably just one of my knight's many strange habits, paired with the fact that he's had a lot to manage as of late!"
A third voice came from beyond that accursed door.
It was soft, sweet, almost angelic, like the sound of silvery bells.
The split second it took him to realize to whom it belonged to sent a deep, devastating chill down his shaking spine.
"Yeah, what the princess just said, whatever's goin' on with the Cap'n, he's got it locked down, he just gotta pull his head outta his ass!"
Yet another familiar voice, yet another strike aiming at his dwindling sanity.
Each second caused the knight's anxiety to escalate further and further, to the point that the wildfire of minutes before was nothing compared to it.
He felt his heart's screams echoing within him.
He felt his lungs and throat clogging up with sheer tension.
He felt his stomach twisting, turning and contorting into nauseous spasms.
"Garf! Mind your language! Especially when in front of Petra!"
Once more, a voice belonging to one of his acquaintances.
And with it, the realization of his worst fear was at hand.
All of his doubts.
All of his uncertainties.
All of the times he had questioned whether or not his excuses, lies and charades would work just one more time.
It all came crashing down on him like a meteor's impact.
"The nerve of you! Have you even listened to a single word of what Betty said, I suppose? Leave and come back later, if you really have to!"
Beatrice's attempts to drive away his friends were certainly appreciated, but at the moment he completely lacked the strength to express it in any way.
Why here?
Why now?
Why? Why? Why?
The questions kept mounting, filling up his skull like an overflowing glass of water.
Please, please don't do this!
Please, don't enter this room now!
Please, I beg you!
Those pleas would go unheard, for once again, his emotions were sealed shut.
"None of us here have time to waste with whatever idiotic business Barusu is busy with! Open this door or I swear I will be marching right through it!"
Following those dreadful words, the sound of swirling wind could be clearly heard from the other side of the door.
Upon noticing this, the bright-haired girl that was holding her contractor released her hold on him and immediately stretched her arms out towards the room's entrance, quickly erecting a barrier of magical energy to block it out.
"You are all absolutely incorrigible, I suppose! Betty's contractor won't be disturbed until he is done! It's none of your business, in fact!"
"Beatrice, please, we just want to talk to him for a little bit! There's reeeaaally no need for anyone here to be so upset!"
"Look, I really don't get what you're all yapperin' about, but what the hell are ya' keepin' this barrier for?!"
It was exactly in this moment, as the magic of Ram's wind clashed against Beatrice's barrier, shattering the door and a large section of the wall surrounding it in the process, that Subaru's perception of time began to slow down.
No.
Please, no.
Please, don't do this.
Why did this have to happen?
Why couldn't I be more careful?
No no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no
A cascade of each and every thought, feeling and sensation he had been trying to ignore fell upon him like a pack of predators finally closing in on their prey.
While his body may have yet stood in that room, his mind had dragged his consciousness elsewhere.
He was lying at the very center of a tribunal that, despite its metaphorical nature, felt all too real, bolstered by the now no longer contained turmoil.
Within this cruel room conjured by his every fear, doubt, insecurity and shortcoming, Subaru Natsuki would immediately stand trial.
He would answer for his crimes.
No matter how far his cognition had pulled him away from reality, his eyes could still clearly perceive what, or rather, who stood in front of him.
Each and every person he had met that day was occupying his field of view, his perspective.
First, he noticed Petra, as she had stepped back with her eyes visibly watering up from the stress of the quickly escalating situation.
Second, there was Frederica, standing in front of Petra to protect her from the ongoing clash.
Third, Ram's furious face, which betrayed more than mere frustration.
The fourth was Otto, as he had moved out of Ram's way, a haunted look of fear and panic clear for all to see.
Standing close by was the fifth face, Garfiel, who was pummeling the barrier as rage began to build up onto his facial features.
Close to the midst stood the sixth one, Emilia, with one hand in front of her, perhaps in a desperate attempt to defuse the situation, as her other hand laid in front of her mouth, in a rather unsuccessful attempt at hiding her shock.
And last, but most certainly not least, standing directly between him and the others, he could find the seventh person, Beatrice, who despite her best efforts, showed evident signs of emotional distress.
Each of them was someone who, in one way or another, had come to consider Subaru a close, trusted person, one that they believed they could rely on.
Each of them, who would soon have their trust betrayed.
Each of them, a victim of the culprit's crimes.
It mattered not what further words would be spoken, for he could almost already feel their imminent disappointment in him.
He had lied to them.
He had made them worry.
He had caused them untold amounts of stress and apprehension.
He had broken several promises he made.
And now, he would horrify and disgust them with irrefutable evidence of what he had been doing to himself.
"And all of this for what?"
The Judge spoke, echoing with the very same voice as the culprit who had taken the stand.
"Tell us, Subaru Natsuki!"
The Jury sang in a malicious chorus, reverberating with the voices of his loved ones.
"Because I couldn't take it!"
"Because I was far too cowardly!"
"Too cowardly to admit how pathetically weak I truly am!"
"Too cowardly to face the consequences of all the mistakes I've made along this rotten way!"
He felt his voice splitting in multiple screams, each confessing to a different sin.
In spite of the voices' loud utterances, no actual sound came from the boy's lips, it was all simply echoing within that infernal, imaginary and yet all too realistic room.
"The culprit has come clean! But fear not everyone, the sentence will be passed mercilessly, as deserving of scum such as him!"
Silence once again enveloped the room, disturbed only by the sound of approaching steps, which the culprit could instinctively recognize as his anxiety, ever ready to carry out his sentence by imprisoning him within the shackles of loneliness.
There truly seemed to be no escape, no recess, no way out of what he had brought upon himself.
Any moment now, and he would go through the hellish motions of facing the consequences of his failures as a knight, as a friend and as a person.
But that wouldn't have been exactly true now, would it?
Despite his warped perspective, or perhaps because of it, he could see one, and only one, way out of this imminent doom.
For even if the Judge and Jury had passed their sentence upon him…
...nothing could stop him from being his own executioner.
Back into that uncomfortable reality, in which nary a second seemed to have passed, one ascertainment followed the next.
Everyone was preoccupied with their side of this chaotic situation.
He still held the shard firmly within his hand.
As far as he could tell, the attention hadn't yet fallen on him, although that would soon no longer be the case.
With a swift, if clumsy and trembling, movement he brought the instrument of his imminent demise close enough to his throat that it began to puncture the surface of his veins.
Within those instants, his eyes were closed, for if he so much as dared to look at any of their faces, it would have utterly broken him.
His hands pushed, further and further, against the barricade of hesitation and regret.
In that moment, he was sinking far, far too deep into the pit he had been struggling to emerge out of.
The mud within it blocked out his senses, causing everything to meld into an indistinguishable blur.
And so the scene played out.
The moment Beatrice looked back at her contractor, the shock of what she saw before her causing the barrier to give in.
The moment the others walked through the room's borders, their eyes widening in horror and shock as their gazes fell upon Subaru.
The moment in which the shard finally, lethally pierced his throat.
A familiar set of phrases rushed through his mind.
"I'm scared…"
"I'm sorry…"
"It hurts…"
"I don't want to die…"
And then, at long, long last…
...there was silence.