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Death is mercy.
It is a morbid thought for someone to have. Once, he would have considered it lunacy—to say that something as horrible as death could be considered a mercy in any form. But fate always had a way of proving him wrong.
Being able to die, to control how you spend your own life, was a power he always had. No matter how bad things got, he was always able to use his life.
So, when your own body is taken from you—when you cannot manage to even die, when you are no longer yourself—you finally understand what it means to truly have nothing.
When your love is mocked, defiled, and used against you; treated as nothing more than a simple convenience. You can’t trust others, and more importantly, you can’t trust yourself.
He was chasing freedom. Freedom from pain, freedom from torment, freedom from the words that preceded hell and the face that would cruelly bestow it upon him.
He didn't stop, not until he won, not until he was sure that it could never happen again, not until he would never have to hear those words.
Again and again and again and again and again…
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Sitting in her room, Emilia fiddled nervously with the hem of her skirt. Today was finally the day. If Emilia waited any longer, she felt her heart might simply burst from the sheer strength of the feelings it was carrying. Today, she would tell her Knight, Natsuki Subaru, that she loved him.
It had been almost three years since she met him, and they had become irreplaceable to each other. Of course, they had some problems, like their quarrel in the capital, Subaru’s teleportation to Vollachia, or even their fight against the archbishops in the capital. But by having him at her side, Emilia was able to overcome all of it and was surely going to win the selection. And she couldn’t think of anyone better to be by her side when she did.
It took some time for her to realize her love—far more time than Emilia would have liked. She had been slow, perhaps even a bit of a dunderhead, stumbling through her own feelings while he waited with infinite patience. But Emilia had no doubts anymore; she loved him.
He was the person who had stood by her side when she needed it most. The boy who had saved her more times than she could count on her fingers. The foolish, wonderful knight who believed in her so fiercely that she had no choice but to start believing in herself.
In hindsight, she realized how unfair she had been, making him wait all this time. But that was fine. No, she would make it fine. She would spend every day from now on showing him just how much he meant to her, making up for every second of lost time until her debt was repaid.
She had briefly considered a grandiose confession, perhaps something more public, but she decided against it. Subaru had told her his feelings in a moment of quiet intimacy, just the two of them. It felt right to return the favor in kind. She would inform the rest of the camp only after their relationship was undeniably established.
That is, except for Frederica, who had prepared a pot of tea and some colorful sweets that lay on the table beside her. The plan was simple: share some tea, ease him into a conversation, and then, gently, give him her heart.
The sound of footsteps approached. Emilia’s breath hitched. Her anxiety spiked, her heart hammering a rhythm against her chest that felt loud enough to crack her ribs. It was strange; realizing her love hadn't pacified her emotions—it had amplified them, making every second waiting for him feel like an eternity.
The doorknob turned.
“Hello, Emilia-tan! To what do I owe the extreme pleasure of a private audience?”
As the door swung open and Natsuki Subaru stepped inside, her world brightened. He looked the same as always, and the way he looked at her—as if she were the most precious thing in the world—still made her cheeks burn.
Seeing Emilia frozen in place, Subaru’s smile faltered slightly. “Emilia-tan? You’re looking a little red there. Are you okay? You’re not feverish, are you?” He closed the distance instantly, his face beginning to fill with worry.
His sudden proximity made her already frantic heart threaten to burst. “I-I’m okay!” she squeaked, her voice betraying her completely. “Just… thinking.”
“If you say so.” Subaru didn’t look convinced, but he offered her a warm smile. “Mind if I sit?”
“Please do.”
He sat beside her on the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight, shifting her slightly closer to him. She could feel the heat radiating from his arm, inches from hers. She could hear his breathing. He was so very close.
“So,” Subaru said, leaning forward slightly, his elbows on his knees. “What was the serious talk about? Did Otto mess something up again? Or did Ram try to cook and cause irreparable damage to the mansion?”
Right. She had called him here. She had a plan. She was going to be smooth and eloquent. But now that he was here, her mind went blank; her script, her plan—it all disappeared.
She opened her mouth to speak, but her throat felt dry. No air came out.
Subaru cocked his head to the side, blinking. "Emilia-tan?"
This was a disaster. She was ruining it. A part of her wanted to retreat, to talk about the weather or the Royal Selection and try again another day. But she looked at his face—the face of the boy who had waited for her—and knew she couldn't make him wait a second longer.
She clenched her fists on her lap, drawing strength from all that they had faced together.
“Subaru,” she began, her voice trembling. “I called you here because… because I have to tell you something.”
Subaru straightened up, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. He nodded slowly. “Okay. I’m listening. Whatever it is, I’m here for you.”
Silence stretched between them, and Emilia’s heart hammered in her ears. Was this how he had felt when he stood before her, laying his soul bare? She had never realized just how much courage it took to offer someone your heart, your love. Her admiration for him swelled; he was so brave. She wanted to be brave for him too.
"Emilia, look," Subaru said softly, misinterpreting her hesitation. "If something’s wrong, or if I did something—"
"No!" Emilia cut in, shaking her head vigorously. "You have done nothing wrong. I just... I need to say this properly."
She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with courage.
"Subaru. I have something to tell you. Something that I have felt for a very long time, but only now do I truly understand what it means."
Emilia placed a hand over her heart.
“You told me, all that time ago, that you loved me. And I… I want you to know…” She squeezed her eyes shut for a second, then opened them, letting her feelings flow out. “I love you, too.”
The words hung in the air. She had done it. It wasn’t the poetic, flowing speech she had practiced in the mirror, but it was the truth, laid bare for him to see.
Subaru’s expression shifted. His eyes widened in surprise, and then, slowly, a smile began to form.
Emilia held her breath, waiting. Waiting for him to say it back. Waiting for him to maybe, just maybe, lean in and kiss her.
But just as quickly as the smile appeared, it shattered.
His eyes widened, the pupils shrinking to pinpricks. His mouth twisted, not into joy, but into a form of sheer, unadulterated horror.
He scrambled backward, throwing himself off the bed and crashing onto the floor, scrambling away from her until his back hit the wardrobe. It was as if she were about to kill him.
“No… No, no, no,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “This can’t be happening again. Why? I did everything right, didn't I? I didn’t slip up. How can she be here?”
Subaru clutched his head, his fingers digging into his scalp as he shook his head violently.
“Subaru?” Emilia stood up, her hand reaching out instinctively. “Subaru, what do you mean? Are you hurt?”
She took a step toward him.
He flinched so hard his head banged against the wood. He looked at her outstretched hand, then up at her face with pure, instinctual terror.
Why? Subaru was never afraid of her. He was the one person who never flinched. That had been one of Emilia’s most undeniable truths. So why now? After she had finally opened her heart?
He ripped one hand from his hair and pointed a trembling finger at her. “Don’t even try it, Capella,” he hissed, venom mixed with a sob. “I won’t fall for that again. I’m not stupid!”
Capella? The name rang a bell—the Sin Archbishop of Lust. The monster who could transform her body at will. But… to Emilia’s knowledge, she was dead, killed by their camp. And in the fight, Subaru had never even met her, so why would Subaru confuse Emilia with the cultist?
“Subaru, what are you talking about?” Emilia pleaded, her voice cracking. “I am not… I am Emilia. Your Emilia.”
“As if!” Subaru laughed, but it was a jagged, manic sound that held no true humor. He pushed himself up, standing with his back pressed to the wardrobe, eyes darting around the room as if looking for an exit. “Like you could at least try something new for once! Get some new material, you meat-obsessed lunatic! Turning into Emilia-tan to break me? That’s already old!”
Was he hallucinating? Did he think she was the Archbishop in disguise? "What... what could I have possibly said to make you think such a terrible thing?" Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.
He stopped moving. He stared at her, his face suddenly going blank, devoid of emotion. It was a terrifying contrast to his panic moments ago.
“‘I love you,’” Subaru said, mimicking Emilia’s tone, mocking her feelings.
“Why…” Emilia whispered. “Why would saying that make you doubt me? I don’t understand.”
“I do have to give you credit,” Subaru sneered, though tears were streaming down his own face now. “You’re doing a great Emilia-tan impression; Cor Leonis can’t tell the difference. Way better than the other times. Even your sad face is eerily similar. But you made one crucial mistake.”
He paused, tilting his head, looking at her with a mix of pity and disgust.
"There's no way that Emilia would say that she loves me. That made it obvious."
He said it as if it were the simple and undeniable truth. As if the sky being blue and Emilia not loving Subaru were facts of equal standing.
"How... how can you say that?" Emilia cried. “How can you think that?”
“I’ll admit, it was a hard pill to swallow,” Subaru continued, his eyes dead. “But thanks to you, the real Emilia-tan, and a lot of reflection, I finally accepted it. Emilia won’t ever love me. Not like that. That’s just how it is. That’s the reality I live in. So I won’t let you trick me with that cruel fantasy ever again.”
“No, Subaru! It’s not a trick!” Desperation seized her. She couldn’t let him believe that. She couldn't let him think so little of himself, or of her feelings. “I really love you! It’s the truth! I know I made you wait, I know I was slow, but—”
She ran toward him, arms outstretched, needing to hold him, to ground him, to prove she was real warmth and real flesh. But as she felt her fingers graze the fabric of his tracksuit—
“DON’T TOUCH ME!”
Subaru screamed, a sound torn from the bottom of his throat, and shoved her. Emilia, caught off guard, stumbled back and fell to the floor.
When she looked up, Subaru was hyperventilating, touching his body all over as if checking if it was still there. “I’m still me, me, me, me. Not again, not again, not again. I have to fix this, I have to fix this, I have to fix this.” He was babbling to himself, a stream of nonsense she couldn’t parse, before he bolted for the door.
“Subaru, wait!”
But he was already gone.
Emilia scrambled to her feet, ignoring the ache in her hip, and ran after him. "Subaru! Please, stop!" she shouted, her voice echoing through the mansion, but Subaru only covered his ears, running as if certain death followed him.
She was faster than him. She could have caught him. But before she had the opportunity, he reached his room and slammed the door shut. The lock clicked with a finality that echoed in the silence.
Emilia screeched to a halt and banged her fist against the wood. “Subaru! Open the door!”
Silence.
She banged harder. “Subaru, please! Just look at me!”
Silence.
If she wanted to, she could kick the door off its hinges. But the terror she had seen in his eyes… if she broke in now, she would only terrify him more. As the realization set in, her strength left her.
“Please,” she sobbed, sliding down the door until she hit the floor.
She pulled her knees to her chest, burying her face in her hands. It didn’t make sense. Why was he this broken? Why was his self-worth so nonexistent that the idea of her loving him was proof of a delusion? Had she done this? By making him wait, by taking so long, had she convinced him he was unlovable?
But even so, Emilia refused to falter. She couldn't leave him there, drowning in his pain alone. If Subaru couldn't believe her, she would make him. Just as his love had saved her many times, her love would save him in the same way.
She turned, pressing her forehead against the door. “Subaru, are you listening?”
A faint noise came from inside. She didn’t understand what it was, but it was confirmation he was there.
“I’ll speak,” she said softly. “You can just listen.”
She took a shaky breath, wiping the tears from her cheeks.
“Subaru, I love you. That is the honest truth. And I think… I think I have loved you for a long time. You know, before you came to the mansion, I was really, truly lonely. I had Puck, of course, and he is my family. But he wasn’t a peer. He wasn't a friend.”
She traced the patterns on the wood with her finger.
“Roswaal and I spoke only of the Royal Selection. Ram and Rem looked through me. Beatrice would not leave her library. It was cold. I thought that cold was all I deserved.”
She rested her hand flat against the door, imagining she was touching his back.
“But then… you came. You saved me from Elsa, yes. But more importantly, you saved me from the silence. You treated me like a normal girl. You talked to me, you laughed with me. Suddenly, the mansion felt warm. The twins started talking to me. Even Beatrice came out more often.”
“We talked about the stars. You took me on dates in the village. You believed in me. I think… I think that’s when I fell in love with you. Just knowing that someone like you existed, someone who would look at me with such care…”
Tears streamed freely down her face now, soaking into the collar of her dress.
“I never told you this, but after our fight in the capital… when we were apart… every single day I thought about going back to Crusch’s manor. I wanted to apologize. I wanted to drag you back with me. Every moment away from you felt like something was missing. I loved you then, too. I’m sure of it.”
“You saved me. You told me you loved me when I hated myself the most. I love you, Natsuki Subaru. Not because you’re a knight, or a hero. But because you are you. Because you are my Subaru.”
“Please… can you believe that? And even if you don't… I won’t go anywhere. I will stay by your side until you have no choice but to admit how much I truly love you.”
She finished, her heart truly laid bare. She waited for the lock to click. She waited for his voice, for a sob, for anything.
But the silence remained.
A cold feeling, colder than any magic she could conjure, began to spread through her veins.
“Subaru?”
Nothing.
“I’m sorry, Subaru,” she whispered, standing up. “But I’m coming in.”
Emilia didn’t wait for permission. She placed her hand over the keyhole. Mana surged, forming a delicate key of ice that slid perfectly into the mechanism. With a twist, the lock clicked open.
Emilia slowly opened the door.
"Subaru, I—"
The words died in her throat.
The smell hit her next. It was one she recognized; the smell of blood, of death.
Her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the room.
There, lying on the bed, was Natsuki Subaru. In his right hand, gripped so tightly his knuckles were white, was a small fruit knife.
The pristine white sheets of the bed were soaked with a crimson stain. His throat was gouged open, a grotesque second smile that was pouring the red onto the white sheets.
Before Emilia’s mind could even process the horror of the scene, her body moved on its own. There was no time to think, no time to tremble. She rushed to his side, knelt on the bed, and placed her shaking hands over the ruin of his throat.
The spirits answered her plea immediately, pouring mana into him. Their faint glows clustered around the gruesome tear, and slowly, agonizingly, the skin began to knit itself back together. The red gash vanished, leaving behind only new, tender flesh.
It would leave a scar—a very big, ugly scar. Subaru would probably be sad about it. He would say it made him look tough, or ‘hard-boiled,’ or whatever strange words he used. Yes, he would just make a joke of it, Emilia would scold him for being reckless, and everything would be dandy.
Yet, the silence in the room stretched on.
Why wasn't he sitting up? Why wasn't he making one of his silly jokes or calling her 'Emilia-tan' in that energetic, strange way of his?
Then, it clicked. The bleeding had stopped, yes, but the crimson pool beneath him was too large. It was too wide. It soaked into her stockings, warm and sticky and terrifying. He had lost too much blood.
She was such a dunderhead. She had closed the container, but she hadn’t refilled it. Emilia, with her meager healing ability, could stitch flesh, but she couldn't conjure blood. Even with the wound closed, if the vessel was empty, he couldn't wake up.
Panic, cold and sharp, clawed at her throat. She needed someone better. Someone who knew more.
Beatrice.
She was amazing, far more skilled in healing than Emilia could ever hope to be. Surely, Beatrice could do it. She could refill his blood. Emilia was sure of it. She had to be sure of it. She only needed to find her.
But she couldn't leave him here alone. What if the bleeding started again? What if the warmth left him while she was running through the mansion’s endless hallways?
She couldn’t make him wait. It would be really mean of Emilia to let him suffer while she was gone. She had to preserve him. She had to buy time.
Perhaps she could freeze him?
Just like in the forest. Just like she did to the wives. If she froze him, time would stop for him. He wouldn't lose any more warmth. He wouldn't bleed. He would just... sleep. Safe and sound in a cradle of ice until she returned with help. It was the perfect solution.
She summoned her magic again. This time, it wasn't the warm light of healing, but the biting cold of her lineage. Ice crept over Subaru’s prone form, encasing him in a shimmering crystal pillar.
He looked peaceful. Like a prince in a fairy tale waiting to be woken up.
She scrambled to her feet, her dress heavy with his blood, and sprinted for the door. She had to find Beatrice. She had to fin—
There, standing right outside the room, was a small girl in a frilly dress. Her butterfly-shaped pupils were wide, staring past Emilia, intently fixing on something behind her.
"Beatrice!"
Emilia lunged forward, falling to her knees in front of the little spirit and grabbing her small shoulders.
"Beatrice, you have to help! It’s Subaru! He’s... he got hurt really badly!" Emilia’s words spilled out in a chaotic, breathless rush. "I closed the wound, I promise I did a good job! But there was so much blood, and I don't know how to put it back in! I froze him to keep him safe, so if you just come in and use your magic, you can—"
Emilia stopped.
Beatrice wasn't looking at her. She wasn't looking at the wall. Her blue eyes, usually filled with haughty annoyance or hidden happiness, were fixed intently on the room behind Emilia. Fixed on the pillar of ice.
She didn't move. She didn't blink. She looked like a porcelain doll abandoned on a shelf.
"Beatrice?" Emilia shook the girl slightly. "Why aren't you saying anything? You have to hurry! Subaru needs you!"
Beatrice said nothing. She didn't even acknowledge Emilia's presence. She just stared at the ice, a profound, crushing desolation radiating from her expression.
"Why?" Emilia’s voice cracked, pitching higher. "Why won't you move? Why won't you help him? You're a great spirit, aren't you? You can save him! Why are you just standing there?!"
Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?
The question echoed in her mind. But deep down, beneath the layers of panic and frantic hope, the answer began to rot its way through Emilia’s denial.
She slowly turned her head, following Beatrice’s gaze back into the room. Through the distorted refraction of the ice that would be his casket, she saw him.
Subaru’s face was preserved in perfect clarity. His eyes, usually so full of mischievous light, so full of that fierce, stubborn love for her, were wide open. But they were dull. Glassy. Void. Like the eyes of a fish in a market. Something that used to be alive but was now just meat. The coldness she had felt when she cast the spell wasn't just the ice; it was the absence of a soul. She remembered the feeling of his skin when she touched his neck. There had been no thrum. No heartbeat.
Natsuki Subaru hadn’t been dying when she opened the door. He hadn’t been waiting for her to save him. He was already gone—unable to call her name, unable to support her, unable to tell her he loved her. She would never feel the warmth of his embrace again, the tenderness of his hands holding hers, or the taste of his lips. Her words had never been heard. Her love had nowhere to go. Her heart would never reach his.
Emilia was too late.