Back in Lugunica:

In the Roswaal mansion, there is a room. A florid room—pleasantly steeped in the demure fragrance of lillies and sunflowers.

And in this room, a comatose boy resides.

Sheathed in delicate, white folds of linen, lies the unconscious Natsuki Subaru. Unmoving, bar the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

His bedside table—adorned with a plethora of flowers, thoughtful gifts and letters—is routinely cleaned and polished, a subtle hint of lemon emanating from the tidy surface. The floor is in similar condition; not a single stain blemishes the vicinity.

It is blatant that this room is an ode to someone cherished by all, a testimony of love and doting from the sleeping boy's peers. To neglect this young man's room would simply be the ultimate failure in their eyes.

The boy himself is equally as cherished as his ornate chamber, if not more.

His thin, baby-blue sleeping attire is meticulously ironed, smoothly conforming to his lean body at comfortable angles. His uncommon, dark sable hair flows freely across his forehead and around his neck—neatly brushed but not overgroomed. The inky, black locks are candidly splayed across his pillow, starkly contrasting the smooth, pale canvas that is his face and visible body.

And his eyes, once sharp and dagger-like in all their amber glory, are simply closed. The dangerous air of his notorious Sanpaku eyes are merely replaced by the soft, rare flutter of his surprisingly long, ebony lashes. His face is absent of any creases or frowns, only a quiet, relaxed expression remains.

All in all, the boy, and the room he's been confined in for the past three weeks, reflect the very image of peacefulness—a major juxtaposition to the emotional disarray that has taken grip of the Miload estate.

Quite frankly, the Emilia Camp is not doing well—in any way—at all.

"Subaru is reeeaaally different when he's asleep. He looks less like a loud, happy dunderhead and more like a quiet child..."

If the boy in question was awake, he would have surely replied with a well-rehearsed "Who even says that anymore?", in response to Emilia's archaic vocabulary. Instead, he remains silent, with only the light huffs of air escaping his nose as physical proof of his aliveness.

Beatrice, who Emilia had exchanged the remark with, remains silent.

Emilia holds one of his inanimate hands in the warm embrace of her own. It hasn't lost all of its initial softness, but she can feel the rough presence of scars that now mark his skin—symbols of his hard work as her knight.

It's because of his virtuous ambitions, the same ones that sculpt the heroic nature of the boy, that he's like this. Asleep and unresponsive for an indefinite amount of time.

Following his admirable feats in Vollachia, Subaru had fallen victim to the phenomenon known as Sleeping Beauty. Not because of Gluttony, as was Rem's case. But rather, as a possible aftereffect of rebuilding his Od to reverse his infantalisation. Many healers have theorised that the toll of undoing Olbart's reformation of his soul may have been too stressful for his body to handle, leading to the collapse of his consciousness. This had been the most viable explanation. If Subaru had been awake, he would have supplied them with the medical term, "Coma".

Due to his coma, the Emilia Camp decided to hastily return to Lugunica, seeing as the Great Disaster in the foreign territory had successfully been mitigated with their combined efforts. Priscilla's soon-to-follow death had also been a terrible shock, but much to the shame of the camp's members, Subaru's unresolved condition and undetermined future was causing them just a little more heartache.

Many of the rival camps had offered their condolences, with the sole exemption of Al, who had understandably withdrawn from the royal-political world in his mourning.

Emilia smiles solemnly. Upon re-evaluating the events that had led to this dilemma, the previously quiet Beatrice, standing slightly behind her, speaks up.

"Betty's Subaru requires another mana drain, I suppose. All of this build up with no release must be placing his body under unnecessary strain, in fact..."

She pushes Emilia's hands away, claiming her place in the forefront of the sleeping boy. Emilia's small smile wavers, but she allows the great spirit to replace her with no verbal opposition.

"Oh Subaru... Betty misses you, I suppose." Tears threaten to drop from her sky-blue eyes, butterfly pupils fluttering from the unfairness of it all.

The petite girl sighs as she takes both of his hands in hers. A low hum and the faint hue of light envelopes the contracted pair's hands, signalling the transfer.

She takes in his unusually delicate appearance with a bittersweet grimace. He truly does look at peace, despite the depression that has emerged with his untimely absence. Even his scent is less sharp. Rather, it's dim and naught but a mere afterthought, easily thwarted by the layered aroma of sweet flowers and incense. No longer are the bizarre hints of blood and rusted roses heavily apparent in her nose.

With some reluctance, she eventually slips his hands out of hers, carefully rearranging them beside him.

"Betty hopes that you wake up soon, I suppose. Subaru saying Beako is a daily need of Betty, in fact. So return as soon as possible to her..."

With that, she turns and begins to leave. And then, she stops mid-step.

"Half-elf."

The girl in question startles at the spirit's sharp tone. "Hm?"

"You being here is interfering with the work of the water-stone's incense. You're decreasing the potency of the healing elements they emit, I suppose. Betty advises that you leave here soon, in fact, lest you want to be a burden on Subaru's Od."

"Oh... I understand. I'm reeeeeally sorry, Beako."

"——! Don't call Betty that, I suppose! Only Subaru holds that privilege, in fact...!"

With that, the loli-spirit glares at the sliver-haired elf and slams the door in parting.

"Oh..."

Emilia frowns deeply. Calling her Beako, in an attempt to comfort the girl with the precious nickname coined by Subaru, proves to be a major miscalculation. Emilia feels very very sorry.

She knows that the estate's inhabitants have been especially on edge this past month due to very obvious reasons however, so she doesn't take Beatrice's hostility to heart. The poor spirit, no doubt the closest one to Subaru in the mansion—to the point that they're physically dependent on one another—must be taking this the hardest.

Long lashes fluttering in sadness, she offers Subaru a final, longing look, before turning to exit the room herself.

Rem may not have all of her memories, but even a fool could deduce that her and Subaru had once been close.

She's heard reminiscing from the other residents of the mansion—sweet, short stories that entail the mysterious, enigmatic Natsuki Subaru visiting her regularly during her cursed slumber.

In their words, he would talk to her for hours, engaging in many one-sided conversations with an unconscious Rem, as he would tenderly caress the side of her face with loving commitment.

Due to this, she can only feel indebted to return the favour to the dozing knight. Even still, a nigling sense of dissatisfaction creeps into her senses. Perhaps she should be taking his hand into hers, kissing his cheeks, or worryingly doting on him, in accordance to the relationship he described. But... the incentive to do so is not present.

His wicked, signature scent has been reduced to little more than a faint trace of corruption and atrocity. It's still there, of course, but it lacks the strength to singe and curl the fine hairs of her nose like before. (Perhaps the activation of its potency is not meeting its criteria, due to him being out of commission?)

She doesn't know how to feel about him, not properly, not yet.

He's a puzzle, a highly perplexing labyrinth of strange words and even stranger actions.

Od, even his face isn't entirely cemented in her mind. When she thinks of the name– [Natsuki Subaru] –the faces of a beautiful, womanly Natsumi Shwartz and a youthful, boyish Natsuki Shwartz rattle around her mind, bumping clumsily against each other. The "true" face of the young man enters last, lazily drifting in the shadows of her psyche with a sharp-eyed gaze and a valiant ambience, as she'd seen that one the least.

And yet, it feels the most right. Leaning closer, now hovering above his prone body, she gingerly traces a finger across the pink, soft plane of his lower lip. Just as quickly, she jolts her hand backwards, as if she had been shocked.

"——!"

The pleasant contour of his lips are not as unfamiliar as she thought they would be. Oddly enough, a cloud of Deja Vu drapes over her, leaving her disorientated. Is this not the first time she's watched the boy sleep? Has she pressed his lips against her fingers... or possibly her own mouth, before?

She furrows her tight-knitted brows, pale blue eyes wavering in confusion.

Just who is [Natsuki Subaru] to Rem?

Unfortunately, the young man who harbours all the answers that she lacks, is momentarily dead to the world, for an unknown amount of time.

It's as if their roles have been swapped, courtesy of yet another cruel exploit of the universe. However, this time, the only one who can quench her innumerable cluster of doubt-filled thoughts is asleep. Shackled to a single bed by his uncooperative shell of a body.

With half of her face eclipsed by sky-blue hair, Rem's single visible eye narrows. Not in contempt for the boy like it used to, but rather, in contemplation.

And with that, she straightens her back and places blue Forget-Me-Nots in the vase beside his bed. With a twitch of her down-turned lips, she leaves the room, questions lingering.

Julius Juukilius does not know what to say, as he mutely uses Kua—his reposeful, blue spirit—to cast water mana over Subaru and offer his body further relief and repair.

Although the younger knight's exterior appears to be blissfully at rest, it could not be further from the truth.

To have collapsed, and then have lost the ability to resurface from the dredges of slumber is no fickle ailment. If anything, it suggests that Subaru's body is wrecked from within, the general consensus being that: Recalibrating his Od with a lack of proper Shinobi technique had caused significant physical backlash.

In summary, Subaru's content, eased expression is mere deception, and it in no way reflects the ragged battle that his interior is fighting beneath the surface.

And frustatingly, all that Julius can do is vainly attempt to reprieve the distress that Subaru's very anatomy must be suffering from, in hopes of minising his pain, if only by a little.

The Rainbow-Spirit Knight struggles to deduce what's worse: The only friend who remembers him, suddenly hit by an onset of amnesia, but still awake and well... Or, the same friend, having regained his unique set of memories entailing the nameless knight, but with a body rendered useless to the point of seemingly endless slumber.

Sure, Subaru's memories are most definitely still present– unlike the nightmarish events that occurred at the Pleiades Watchtower –but his consciousness has fizzled out, leaving behind naught but shallow breaths and an uncanny stillness.

Meaning that Julius is still remembered, he still has an anchor to this world, unlike in the tower. But, the anchor is frail and beginning to chip away, almost threatening to dissolve into the coarse waves that crash against it. If this goes on, the ship that is Julius' name may eventually drift away, sailing off into oblivion with nobody else in the world to reel it back in.

Julius inwardly admonishes himself for his selfishness. Subaru may harbour the majority of memories that make up Julius' name, but that does not mean he should be seen as a personal security. At this moment, Julius should be most worried about Subaru's well-being, not his own.

The conflicted knight shakes his head in self-loathing. His concern for Subaru should not be in accordance to the younger male's unique retention of memories, but rather, be an earnest act of worry for his friend's health.

If anything, that Rem girl should be worried about the memory-perspective of things, seeing as Subaru is quite literally the only one who can remember and answer questions about her, as even her own mind is excluded from the niche wealth that is Rem-centered knowledge. Besides, Julius has managed to reform many lost relationships and contracts in the time that has passed since Gluttony's misdeeds. Even if there are are some gaps, he is less helpless than before.

With his inner turmoil coming to a conclusion, Julius refocuses on the urgent matter at hand: figuring out a way to wake Subaru Natsuki up.

Kua the Spirit diligently continues to imbue the pale skin of the comatose boy with healing properties, but her efforts fail to return the vivid vitality that was once there. Subaru's eyes remain closed—unfamiliarly soft where there should be dagger-like angles and a harsh backdrop of white sclera.

After a few more moments of treating the Sleeping Beauty, Kua relinquishes her remedy, exhaustedly floating back to her contractor's side.

"Thank you for your work, Kua..." He showers her in praise, making her shyly yet happily bumble in a show of bashfulness.

This momentary interval of joy is quickly snuffed out as the weight of the situation once again dawns upon him. The sobering reminder that healing magic proves ineffective in awaking Subaru from his abnormal case of hypersomnia.

Before Julius can dwell further into the bleak future this issue may behold, a bright, accented voice disperses his darkening thoughts.

"Hey, Julius, are ya' done yet!?"

"—! Ah, Anastasia-sama! Yes, we're done here."

He replies dutifully to the lovely sound of his lady's voice, relieved at her unintentional intervention.

"Good, good. I'll be coming in then, alright?"

"..." He waits for her to enter, and smiles pleasantly at her as she stands beside him.

She smiles back, but it's blatant that none of them are truly rejoicing.

Looping a lavender strand of hair around her manicured finger, she assesses the young man in the bed. He's the same as he looked a month ago, as if he'd been frozen in time—forgotten and left behind by the unyielding march of fate.

It seems as though everything that surrounds Subaru Natsuki is an unprecedented surprise or an unsolved mystery... he's quite simply odd in every way.

One moment—he's a prodigy in the art of stratagem, and the next he's suffering from a harmful infliction at the least expected time. Whether it's him losing his memories or devising well-rounded approaches to defeat unimaginable evils, Anastasia can virtually never foretell what will happen next with the boy. The character of Subaru Natsuki is perplexingly versatile.

Usually, however, he manages to bounce back with little to no damage to his determination. She's grown accustomed to him just returning with renewed vigour, ready to face the challenge once again, armed with new strategies—or easily beating his opposition with one perfect plan to begin with.

So, seeing him here, showing no outward resistance to the new predicament that's arrived, is nothing short of unnerving. A Natsuki-kun with no defiance is comparable to a butterfly without wings.

She faces her visibly upset spirit-knight with soothing words in mind.

"We've done all'at we can. What's left now is for him to keep on fighting, like he always does, ya' know?" She consoles him with her tomboyish way of speaking.

He nods gravely. "I suppose you're right, Anastasia-sama. I'm glad that the Emilia camp invited us here in the first place, it's truly an honour to treat such an admirable knight." He looks away, veiling his mounting dread with noble words, causing Anastasia to frown.

"Julius..."

"I'm sorry..."

"We've just gotta wait, alright? He'll overcome this eventually. We're all pretty scared, rightfully so, but feeling down in the dumps won't help him."

She raises her little finger. "So, pinkie promise to me that we'll have hope moving forwards, 'kay?"

He blinks at her in astonishment, before reciprocating the gesture with a small smile.

"Your wish is my command, Anastasia-sama."

Before they leave, they place a yellow tulip in the steadily-filling vase on the bedside table, wishing Subaru Natsuki luck, happiness, and hope.

Frederica guides Ram and Petra into the room, the older demi-woman advising them to tread carefully to avoid any disarrangement.

"How disappointing," the crimson-eyed Oni immediately sharpens her tongue with harsh words, glaring at the comatose boy, "Barusu continues to prove that he will reach any lengths to avoid work and productivity."

"They say that time apart fosters love, but that clearly isn't the case with our dear Ram here. You always have a sharp retort at the ready, don't you?" Frederica lightly teases the girl.

"Just look at the lazy imbecile. Ram can't help but state the obvious."

"Ram nee-sama, please cut Subaru some slack, it's not like he fell asleep on purpose!" Petra requests, rushing to defend the man she admires.

"What's the issue? It's not like the fool can hear Ram anyways."

"..."
Petra and Frederica both fall silent at that, the acknowledgement of Subaru's circumstances leaving Petra especially crestfallen.

The stream of sunlight that creeps in through the curtains bathes his frustatingly frozen expression in its serene, golden dye. His dark hair has grown longer, just barely brushing his shoulders. A strand of his bangs reaches far past his brows. Today marks two months since the beginning of his slumber.

"He'll probably need a haircut soon..." Petra points out.

"That can occur when he's being bathed. Right now, we need to rejuvenate this place." Frederica states, sharp teeth glinting in the afternoon shine.

"Well, let us get it over with. Ram can't bear to look at Barusu's irksome face any longer." The peach-haired maid copes with banterful remarks, as if she's determined to uphold the witty atmosphere that usually surrounds her and Subaru's interactions. The other maids notice this and attempt to replicate her approach, falling into light, pleasant conversation as they begin to clean the room.

The room itself is not unkempt per say, it's simply not as beautiful and tidy as it has the potential to be, seeing as it hasn't been cleaned in a day or two.

They've found that dust settles quickly in a room that isn't lived in. And while Subaru isn't necessarily dead– they rebuke the very thought –he's about as active as a corpse would be. Lost in the throes of drowsiness and total body shut down, Subaru does nothing but inhale and exhale all day, frightfully close to unmoving. And so, dust triumphantly reigns supreme across the various surfaces of the room.

Petra makes her way towards the bedside table, gazing at the unopened pile of letters addressed to Subaru. Familiar names belonging to other royal selection camps are first spotted by her. But, as she peers closer, she sees newer names.

Tanza, Flop, The Pleiades Batallion, Medium, Vincent...

Those are just few of the many letters amassed from the people of Vollachia, the war-torn nation that Subaru left a major impression on. She can't help but feel a prideful sense of awe at her beloved crush's accomplishments.

She tightens her fist in optimism as she carefully stacks the letters into neat piles, wiping the dulled surface beneath them. Subaru will get through this, no matter what...!

With renewed faith, she happily discards of the dead, wilted flowers in the glass vase. Subaru will come back better than ever!

With a beaming smile, she replaces said flowers with a joyful bouquet of daffodils, affirming resilience, renewal and rebirth. Subaru will reawake, stronger than he's ever been!!!

And finally, with a twinkle in her eye, she places a light kiss on Subaru's left cheek once the other maids have left the now-clean room. Soon, she hopes, Subaru's Spring of new beginnings will arrive.

Roswaal enters the room, where both Otto and Garfiel have already situated themselves in.

The man has forgone his offbeat clown makeup, bare face unpainted and clad in no mask other than a mirage of neutrality. He silently drifts towards the bed, between the chairs that the younger males have set out for themselves. Garfiel greets him with a small nod. Otto ignores his presence. Subaru Natsuki remains asleep.

Honestly, which Roswaal is usually anything but, Subaru's sorry state has been driving him insane.

Why. Just why has he not reset the timeline? Has the miraculous, fate-bending boy been subjugated by a mere spell of sleepiness? Is this truly the one thing that can thwart the young man's exploits?

Resisting the urge to shake the resting boy by the shoulders, he resigns to simply brushing black, recently trimmed hair out of Subaru's closed eyes. Had he been awake, he would immediately have bitten Roswaal's hand (again) for the action.

Otto raises an eyebrow at the mage's abnormal display of concern, but says nothing. Garfiel blinks in confusion, pointedly staring at the blue-haired man.

"Oh, myyyy~." The man employs his odd speaking pattern to mitigate their attention from his surfacing pandemonium. "Don't look at me like thaaaaaat~, surely it isn't a crime to be worried for the booooooy~?"

Otto sends him an unimpressed frown, whilst Garfiel just shrugs his shoulders.

"Cap'n is pretty strong. My amazin' self ain't too worried for him, 'cos he'll be back with us in no time." Entirely self-assured, the young demi-human announces his unwavering confidence in Subaru.

"—!" Both Roswaal and Otto can't help but be impressed at his hopeful conviction.

The mage almost points out that it's already been two and a half months since this new era of their lives—one without their precious knight—began, but he decides against it. Frankly, he's too exhausted to stir up such a commotion with no foreseeable benefits in store.

Turning back to his guiding star, he once again straightens his lips into a flat line.

Without Natsuki Subaru to lead him towards his goal, what ever shall he do now?

He's enlisted the help of many healers aside from their own, with even Felix—who's taken time out of his own days of treating his bedridden lady—extending a hand to help as much as he possibly could.

And it's all amounted to nothing. No progress, no change.

It's maddening. A dead end.

Yellow eye twitching, Roswaal swiftly retreats to the door of the room to cool down in solitude.

Before he can go, however, Otto stops him.

"Uh... Before you leave, at least put this into the vase." As the green-garbed merchant says this, he presses an object into Roswaal's palm.

"Hmmmm~?"

He peers down at the item.

It's a purple Clematis. A flower promising mischief in its endless climb for wisdom. If its petals could speak, they would most likely exclaim "Reach for the stars!", or something along those lines.

Roswaal turns it over between his fingers, examining it. For some reason, it seems quite befitting. He strides towards the vase and drops it inside, a contrasting addition to the myriad of ambers, hazels and golds that occupy the jug.

Pleased with his compliance, Otto does not interfere this time as Roswaal leaves. Instead, he and Garfiel place their own flowers in the glass container. Yellow Freesias now join the ever-growing collection of flowers, signifying powerful, loyal friendships.

"My brain! How it trembles...!"

"A violation of my rights! How dare you..."

"......." Natsuki Subaru is used to drowning out the incessant noise of the sinful factors within him. His incomplete form drifts lazily within the shadows—floating through the dark realm within his Od that transcends the very framework of the world.

He knows not of his genesis, nor his fate. No thoughts are needed here. He does not move, or feel.

Instead, he exists as a metaphysical presence, confined within a foreign, intangible plane of existence. It's as if the string of time has been tangled up into an indecipherable ball of yarn. He cannot make sense of anything. He doesn't feel real.

"How dare you! How dare you!?!?"

How did he even get here?

As he asks himself this, the whispers of shapes and shadows congregate before him. He can see them, despite his lack of nerves and organs. Jittery waltzes of grey join hands with the delicate hums of white.

...Has he forgotten what colour looks like? He tucks away the frightening realisation, and instead decides to harness his energy into identifying a clear, resolute image.

He recreates the feeling of squinting, and fortunately his effort is not in vain. Slowly but surely, a scene is born from the jigsaw of muted hues. A new sight blooms.

A girl, with silver hair, veiled by a field of darkness stands before him. Dull, amethyst eyes stare at him with a mournful hue. She opens her mouth.

"I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you... Love me. Love me. Love me. Love me–"

The vision of the girl professing her love continues in garbled, monochromatic reels of film, enveloping his mind entirely.

All too suddenly, he feels a deep pang of sadness as he remembers his absence of a mouth.

He wants to speak to her, hold her... become one with her. But, alas, he cannot, as he is nothing more than an abstract presence.

He'll come back, he promises. He'll love her with all of his might as soon as he can, but first, he needs to return to the land of the living. He needs to make himself whole. And then, he'll come right back.

"Love me. Love me. Love me. Love me. Love me. Love me. Love me. Love me. Love me. Love me. Love me. Love me. Love me. Love me. Love me..." She tearfully requests as he drifts away towards the light, and he feels his nonexistent heart shatter into a million pieces at her sorrow.

I'll be back, so please, wait for me.

The bleary echoes of her voice eventually fade into nothingness, but the rusty scent of poignant, black roses remains as he leaves the Shadow Garden.

Natsuki Subaru re-emerges, confused, with his only prior memories being those of Vollachia.

Everything hurts; his head, his back, his legs, his heart.

"What the hell...?" Is all that he can mutter when he processes the room around him. Flowers. Flowers all over, practically exploding out of the vases they're entrenched in. Beside them, letters are stacked upon each other. Due to the sheer number of them, the bedside table alone could not provide enough room for them, so they're arranged neatly across the floor and desk too. They're all unopened, and addressed to him.

"Jeez..."

He looks down at his atypical attire: an ironed, pristine white sleepshirt and a complementary pair of loose trousers. His feet are clad in comfortable, warm socks. Wriggling his toes, he marvels at their spectacular softness.

He blows his bangs out of his eyes, something that he usually never has to do.

Now curious and craving answers, he attempts to rise out of bed and call out for anyone to fill him in.

Immediately, as soon as his feet touch the floor and he pushes himself up with annoyingly weak arms, the overarching force of gravity immediately humbles him.

"Hk—!"

A loud thud echoes through the hallway.

"Why can't I..." Subaru's face contorts as he realises that the simple act of walking is in no way feasible for him.

Dragging himself across the polished floor with only his shaking arms, he begins to reach for the doorknob. His efforts fall short when the door swings outwards, the handle now a terrible distance away.

"Ugh..."Subaru looks up.

Two girls, both holding white roses, stare at him in shock.

"S-Subaru, I suppose—!?" A sweet voice cries.

"Subaru...!" A voice like silver bells rings out.

He blinks at their surprised faces, pushing himself into a seated position on the floor, useless legs splayed out.

"That's me! But, uhm. What happened, exactly...?"

The two girls look at each other in astonishment, before turning back to the boy on the floor with tears in their eyes. Soon after, they pounce on him, embracing him warmly on both sides.

"Betty's Subaru has finally returned, I suppose! It's been six whole months of waiting, in fact!"

"Subaruuuuu! You nincompoop, you're reeeeeally mean for leaving us like that!"

"Eh? Beako? Six months—? And who even says nincompoop in this day and age...!"

"...Subaruuuuuuuuu!!!" They cry in unison, refusing to let go of the boy.

The white roses fall into his lap, and he smiles at their delicate petals as he reciprocates the love of the two girls with both arms, pulling them closer into the small group hug.

Explanations can come later. But, right now? He's pretty happy where he is.

°•~♡~•°