Chapter 165 — Volume 4, CHAPTER 115: YOU ARE NEVER A MATCH FOR THE GIRL FROM YOUR YOUTH

He feels something precious shedding away inside him.

The sensation is unlike that of his gate, whose existence has reached finality. Something entirely separate, different, squirms within Subaru.

Was it hot? Cold? The fever it carried gave indication of neither. Was it with shape? Without? Its nebulousness indicated not even that.

The dingy muck had coursed through Natsuki Subaru, cheering in joy for its release outside, to demonstrate its power and disperse.

But its vestiges remained fluctuating through Subaru even now.

The abnormal sensation gave Subaru an indescribable feeling. This was not something he recognized, or something he had felt before. But he did possess both knowledge and understanding about it.

So while he does question WHY? and HOW?, he does not question WHAT? or WHAT FOR?

He did not need to ruminate over the identity of this thing. He would be best off to question WHY, but presently his query would not reach anyone who could answer.

Meaning that Subaru has only one thing to consider.

INVISIBLE STRIKE, UNSEEN PALM, UNNOTICEABLE BLOW.

All of them sound either lame or rehashed, lacking in style.

A black hand which only Subaru could see.

What only Subaru could control, which was—

※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※

Subaru: “THE IMPERCEPTIBLE WILL OF THE GODS... We'll call it Invisible Providence...”

???: “...Huh? What did you say?”

Squinting open his eyes with his consciousness still fuzzy, a fragment of his thoughts slips out his mouth.

That instant, the silver-haired visage immediately in front of him opens its eyes wide.

After several blinks, Subaru recognizes that he has returned from the world of unconsciousness into reality. He notices the connection between the soft sensation beneath his head and Emilia's proximity.

Subaru: “Oh. I'm getting a lap pillow from Emilia-tan again.”

Emilia: “You are. What's the count now? For me lending you my lap when you're unconscious.”

Subaru: “Take some conditions into account and maybe three. Have to win a big bout to reach this paradise.”

Emilia: “Y-you're sooo not drowsy at all... do you remember what happened before you fainted?”

Subaru: “Yeah and clearly. I'll reminisce on it nice and slow, while we chat and I gaze at your face...”

Subaru jokes around while he pushes aside the thoughts in his weighty head and gets his ideas into order. He then remembers the shower of furious blows he sustained before fainting, and comprehends.

He immediately puts his hands to his face, kneading his cheeks as he looks up at Emilia.

Subaru: “Crap. Actually I think I got beat up pretty bad. Emilia-tan, am I okay? My face isn't so messed up it's unlookable?”

Emilia: “Don't worry. It doesn't look that weird.”

Subaru: “And spoken without any malevolence!”

Emilia tilts her head in mystification. Subaru removes his hands from his cheeks and promptly checks that his joints are all okay. A faint numbness hangs around his shoulders, lower body, and neck region. But most of his wounds are sealed, apparently post-healing.

Emilia: “Subaru, it tickles if you move around on my lap too much.”

Subaru: “Ah, sorry. No! I wasn't trying anything dirty with that! I mean I wasn't but, how about I double check just to be sure?”

Emilia: “Don't. I'm going to shove you off my lap if you keep saying this stuff. Stop being so saucy.”

Subaru: “Who says saucy any more?”

After responding to Emilia's harsh gaze with a wry smile, Subaru uprights himself from her lap. While it does hurt to part with it, he can't impose forever.

His physical status, compared to his top form, is sitting at about 60%. Definitely not perfect, but he's thankful for Emilia's healing.

Subaru: “Thanks for healing me. You managed to heal without Puck?”

Emilia: “My contract with Puck might be broken, but my contract with the minor spirits isn't. And...

I don't know how this will sound, but it's not like I can't use magic.”

Subaru: “Really? My knowledge was magicians and spiritualists have different structures in how they handle mana... that you can't have both.”

Lessons learned in the mansion from Puck and Roswaal.

Magicians can only use magic proportionate to their internal store of mana, while spiritualists must establish communication with a spirit so that they can utilize the inexhaustible ambient supply. That's the entire extent of how Emilia's ability to use magic vaguely diverts from Subaru's knowledge.

Emilia lowers her gaze.

Subaru's brows furrow at her strange reaction. She gives a small sigh.

Emilia: “I didn't think I could either... but, I did mention that my memories are coming back. Part of them was knowledge about how to just use magic... which I think got sealed as well.”

Subaru: “Your memories sealed your ability to use magic?”

Emilia: “Yes.”

She nods. Her failure to articulate is probably because she cannot tell what this all signifies. Subaru does not understand why her ability to use magic was sealed in the recesses of her memory either. And his present information load is looking too sparse for speculation.

Either way, she used her newly-usable magics to heal Subaru.

Subaru: “Nevermind the circumstances, if it meant you were able to heal me, it's a huge help. How is everyone...”

else, is how he intends to continue, when he realises that this is not the time for him to be relaxing. He should have recognized this fact the moment that he remembered why he fell unconscious. Subaru's opponent Garfiel, and Otto and Ram who apparently opposed said Garfiel. Are they safe?

Subaru: “Don't think the situation's too risky, but I'm gonna go before they end up as forest fertilizer and help—”

???: “I appreciate that you're worried about me, but I would manage well without having to hear your imaginings about these worst-case scenarios.”

Subaru: “Huh?”

Animating his wavering body to stand, Subaru moves to start running away from the tomb and into the forest. When the astonished voice of a young man stops him. He careens to a halt and glances behind him, to see someone sitting on the tomb's stone steps—Otto Swein, with his hand raised.

Subaru: “Aaah, aaah!?”

Otto: “How glad I am to see your surprise. I apologize for worrying you, but seeing as the worries

go both ways we'll agree not to mention it, and...

Subaru: “Hi-yah!”

Otto: “Eewhauhg!?”

Having confirmed their mutual safety, a rather satisfied smile arises on Otto's face—when Subaru charges. He rides the momentum as he leaps to acquaint Otto with a flying kick.

Stuck between the stairs and Subaru, Otto cries out.

Otto: “Ow! Ouch! Stairs are, grinding my head—ow! M-my hair! I'm going bald! Wh-Natsuki-san, what on earth are you doing!?”

Subaru: “Shut it, stupid! Stop trying to be cool. What's going on with this vibe where it's like you did something big? Who told you to do anything more than buy time? You know how close my plans were to winding up par for course because of this? But if you hadn't helped I don't think I would've beat Garfiel so I can't say I don't thank you!”

Otto: “I have no idea what you're even saying any more!!”

Unable to give a sincere thanks, Subaru scuffles with Otto on the stairs while he speaks, when Otto kicks him away. Subaru rolls down the steps to land on his backside before standing up.

Subaru: “Either way, glad you're safe. If you died you'd make for an annoying visitant bedside.”

Otto: “I'd rather we leave these eccentric customs undiscussed. ...Or actually, why didn't those sentiments of yours show up nicely and at the start?”

Subaru: “Don't slather on too much praise, we're talking me here!”

Otto: “I am aware of that, yes!”

Otto puts his hand to his brow, before noticing that Emilia has been quietly watching their exchange.

Otto: “Ah, Emilia-sama. I apologize for excluding you. Though it's all Natsuki-san's fault.”

Emilia: “Mm, I was watching so I know. Don't worry.”

Subaru: “No friends in sight... No, I mean I'm drowning in friends and that's why I'm in this situation. —Anyway, you being safe means that Ram's okay too?”

Emilia and Otto look at each other and nod. Subaru sticks his tongue out at them before inquiring as to the safety of their unseen and final collaborator. Otto nods.

Otto: “Being what her condition was after I woke up and found her, I have to say I was chilled.

...Fortunately her situation wasn't as horrendous as it looked. Although, she awoke while I was carrying her to reconvene, and did speak some rather potent venom...”

Subaru: “Sympathies. She seriously is harsh-tongued with people outside her circle. ...It's impressive you managed to talk her into this. How'd you do it?”

Otto: “One of the terms for securing her cooperation would be that I do not tell you that.”

Otto puts his hand to his mouth, indicating that he is not going to talk.

Subaru's lips quirk, eager to say something, but he determines that speech is not going to get Otto to bend and he promptly abandons any further inquisition.

If some vaguely harsh questioning was enough to get him talking, then he wouldn't have risked his life going along with Subaru's practically-nonsense plots.

Stubborn, a nuisance, and a great friend.

Subaru: “Crap!”

Otto: “Ow! Why am I getting hit!?”

Subaru: “Just be quiet.”

Subaru shoves Otto's shoulders, then paying no heed to his complaints before turning to face Emilia. To find that Patrasche has materialized beside her at some unknown juncture and is pressing her snout into Emilia's silver hair, the two of them smiling.

Subaru: “What's this? Since when've you been such good friends?”

Emilia: “Some things happened while you were sleeping... and she really helped me. She's sooo great.”

Subaru: “Right? She's my pride and my partner, no joke. Yeah, Patrasche?”

Subaru approaches and reaches out to stroke her back. But the dragon dodges away before his fingertips can touch her, avoiding his hand.

Subaru: “Gahugh!?”

Patrasche: “—”

The swing of her tail strikes Subaru in the ass, leaving him half in-tears from pain as he leaps. He looks at her, questioning and defiant, to see that her sharp eyes have sharpened further and she is growling displeasedly at him with her neck stooped low.

Otto: “Would you like a translation?”

Subaru: “No, even I can figure this one out.”

Subaru replies to Otto's considerations with a shake of his head. He gives a small sigh.

Subaru: “—It's 'don't make me worry', isn't it.”

Otto: “Additionally, don't get carried away. I'm not doing it again. Imagine what it's like for me. But with a 'yes fine you can come in' nuance in the anger.”

Subaru: “Seriously what is going on with your heroine power? Are you throwing your name into the heroine race?”

Subaru gives a wry smile and reaches out. This time his fingers do touch Patrasche's tough hide. She closes her eyes, accepting it as if inevitable, Subaru's gratitude for the tolerant dragon unending.

Patrasche's assistance in the Garfiel fight, that being the decisive blow, occurred as a factor of her incredible and unhesitating trust.

As always, flimsy Subaru needed to indebt himself to many people every time he wanted to scale

any mountain. Would the day ever come where he would settle those debts? He doubted it. But had to do it.

Subaru: “So what's going on with the conquered and debt-producing mountain, Garfiel?”

Emilia: “Garfiel's recovering and is over there. But it might be better not to interrupt.”

Subaru: “Interrupt?”

Subaru tilts his head. Emilia puts her finger to her lips.

Emilia: “Ram's looking after him right now, you see.”

※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※

Ram: “Are you awake, Garf?”

What Garfiel sees when he wakes up is the face of a familiar girl.

This was someone he wanted to see upon waking, who he did not want to see upon waking. It's a complex feeling.

But he cannot deny that his chest has begun to beat faintly faster. Garfiel hums.

Garfiel: “Yeah... 'm up.”

Ram: “I see. Then move. This has gone on far long enough, and my legs are numb.”

Garfiel: “Augh!”

The instant they establish communication, Garfiel is expelled from the soft touch as his head falls to the ground. He hadn't been expecting a kind reaction, but this kind of coldness does hurt.

And especially so when his pride is already wounded, and his crush is the one being icy.

He rubs his head and gazes bitterly at Ram. She sits on the grass with her legs folded, patting at the spot where Garfiel's head had been resting, her thighs. She responds to Garfiel's gaze with a displeased “What?”.

Garfiel: “Ain't nothin'... Same 's always, yer a lady who ain't got a scrap'v kindness.”

Ram: “When the moment requires kindness and the recipient merits kindness, then of course I'll be kind. That I'm not being so now means that this isn't one of those moments.”

Garfiel: “...My amazin' self got that merit?”

Ram: “It's utterly transparent what you want me to say. You mustn't be like Barusu, Garf. If you wish to know what a woman truly feels, devise a cleverer scheme.”

Garfiel lowers his gaze. He head goes springing back in the wake of Ram's poke to his forehead. The shock races through the point just above the scar that Garfiel always finds himself touching.

His fingers brush across the scar on his brow as he sighs.

Garfiel: “Thinkin' back... yer the one who gave me this injury.”

Ram: “—. I had to act frantically to settle your shenanigans. Do you think I did something as drastic as knock your face into the stone because I wanted to?”

Garfiel: “Feels same 's t'day when yer were beatin' me down, that yer were smilin' like crazy...”

Ram: “My life isn't unlimited. When it's merely doing something that I'm reluctant to do, it's profitable that I smile and convince myself it's enjoyable. Desperate measures.”

Garfiel: “How 'bout thinkin'v th'mental scars that leaves f'r th'guy who gets his head cracked open, oi!”

Ram just sighs, her expression even more bored.

Of course. She would never accept that she was wrong, and her stubborn mentality would never bend. Proud, noble, tough, tenacious.

Which is why Garfiel admired her, and wanted her.

Garfiel: “...You ain't wounded any, Ram?”

Ram: “Who could suppose. I have had Emilia-sama mend the conspicuous injuries, but it might be impossible to remove all of them entirely. How are you going to take responsibility for despoiling me?”

Garfiel: “Make you my wife...”

Ram: “You'll fail. Think of a different method. —And that was audacious of you, Garf. That you dared to abandon the losers.”

Garfiel: “...”

Ram's harsh gaze silences Garfiel.

The anger in her eyes is a condemnation of the fact that he practised leniency at the battle's end. Garfiel had neglected to finish off both Ram, defeated, and Otto, upside-down in the shrubs. Indeed their survival had been his decision, and it may have sullied the glory of the fight.

But Garfiel could not brandish his claws at the unconscious girl. Even disregarding his feelings for her, and other different and varied factors, he surely would not have managed it.

After all, he lacked the courage most vital for a warrior.

Ram: “It impresses me that you avoided my last cast of magic.”

Garfiel: “...Ain't like I was tryin' to. When I was beaten down n'started reversin' my transformation, I got this foreboding feelin'. Then my body moved quicker th'n my head. Thassall.”

When the forest's mana had been assembled, and Ram cast the most advanced wind magic there is, rather than think, Garfiel left everything to his survival instinct and evaded the blades of wind.

He used the feeling of the invisible gale grazing millimetres past his skin to escape. The attack had ravaged every tree in sight down to nothing, and alongside his rather artistic dodges he managed to flee from its range.

Once he returned to the scene, he found the fallen Ram and Otto.

Were Garfiel a true warrior, he would have boasted of his survival and taken their lives. But Garfiel, who needed to surrender himself to his animal blood if he was going to take a life, could not do it.

Garfiel: “I'm...”

Ram: “—”

Not a warrior. Merely someone who wears a warrior's airs, speaks empty threats, a fake.

He had stubbornly believed that even a fake like him, provided he had the power, could subdue everything and protect those he wished to protect without taking any lives.

But his ideas had been largely invalidated.

He had believed that he possessed enough strength to defeat even great groups of outsiders.

But in reality he lost to merely three people and a ground dragon. And for each of their reasons all of those people were practically non-combatants.

If a hostile warrior came to SANCTUARY, they would easily destroy Garfiel. This was what he was, after running his pompous mouth with talk about being SANCTUARY's barrier.

—He mulled over many thoughts in this deficient head of his.

Throughout the battle, and even outside of battle, Garfield never stopped using his assuredly poor brain.

What strategy would be optimum? What action would best help everyone? Was there a way to do this without hurting anybody? And even if someone would be hurt, it was fine so long as the only injuries were to himself.

All his days spent holding these beliefs and doing his best had been entirely superficial, acting only to conceal his weakness.

Ram: “Garf.”

Garfiel: “...”

Ram: “I'm going to give you a word of advice. Listen well.”

Garfiel: “...Yeah.”

Still looking down, Garfiel gives a nod.

What words would Ram, his crush, shower upon him? Her usual statements were harsh, but she had probably never truly washed her hands of him.

Ram's personality was one where she was soft to people inside her circle. And although their relationship was not without its faults, she and Garfiel had known each other for a long time, and she considered him as part of that count.

But now her hostility was clear. He probably was not included in that category any more.

Her imminent announcement would be Ram's parting with Garfiel in earnest, and—

Ram: “Garf, you're stupid so thinking is utterly pointless. A waste of time. Otherwise said, a waste of life.”

Garfiel: “...eh?”

Ram: “You're who said it. Garf, you dodged my magic when you acted without thinking anything. And that is exactly the case. You may not have noticed it, but when you are thinking nothing you are considerably stronger in fights. When you're being a barefaced idiot, considerably.”

Unable to comprehend what he is hearing, Garfiel's eyes widen.

While he had expected her to find him useless, her statements are aiming somewhere entirely unanticipated.

Ram: “I don't mean for you to abandon all rationality and transform. In fact I will mention that your transformation makes you even weaker than when you are thinking. You become a bigger target, and your weapons are slow. Stay in human form, focus on your opponent, and fight without thinking.”

Garfiel: “Th-th'hell's this!? Since when was this th'topic'v....”

Ram: “This is important. —Because now you're going to fight on many occasions as an ally to me and Emilia-sama.”

Garfiel: “—!!”

Emotion clogs Garfiel's throat.

His face flashes red, his sharp fangs clicking as he speaks.

Garfiel: “Fuck off! Y'fuckin' piss 'round with me, be enemies, crush my ideas... n'yer still forgivin' me, n'tellin' me t'forgive you!?”

Ram: “Don't be an idiot. I don't forgive you and so I'm demanding you serve us. If we forgive you and our standings become equal, we'll need to make requests to gain your cooperation. Foolishness. We are the victors and you are the loser. I don't forgive you and so I am ordering you. Understand?”

Garfiel: “'S fuckin' nuts!”

Garfiel bares his fangs as he stands up.

His body sways for an instant, but with how most all of his wounds have been healed, it isn't a problem. Healed. The moment he reaches that thought, even more shame claws at his heart.

Garfiel: “I accept I lost! Cause I did! But that ain't th'same deal as whether 'm gonna back down! I lost, yer got me, understood! But my amazin' self's still alive 'n kickin'! 'F yer really gonner move things along without askin' me, then what yer shoullder done was kill me! Second you ain't doin' that 's the exact second yer cowardice's th'same 's mine!”

Ram: “Cart before horse. If we let you die when we need your strength, that contradicts our goals.”

Garfiel: “...But I!!”

Ram: “Incessant snivelling!”

Before Garfiel can roar in anger, Ram gets to her feet and howls.

Her cerise eyes host fury as she glares at Garfiel.

It's menacing. Overwhelmed, Garfiel winds up shutting his mouth.

Ram: “You lost. You have lost. Then act like the loser you are and heed the commands of the victor. How wretched must you be in presence of a woman you like, flaunting your inane and girlish temperament as a sore loser, before you will be satisfied, Garf? Your flagellation of others becomes flagellation of yourself the moment that you lose, all you have changed is the aim of your braying, idiotic.”

Garfiel: “Uawh.. ah,”

Her statements are spot-on. Garfiel cannot manage a single word.

Before the fight, he had imposed certain issues onto other people. Now that he's lost, he's imposing his own weakness. It proves that nothing has changed about his wretchedness as he yells at whatever he thinks is weak.

He stopped yelling about the outside which he thought weak, and started yelling about his own self who he had to acknowledge as weak.

Garfiel: “But what'm I meant t'do!? Go laughin' like a stupid idiot n' stand'n line with yer entourage!? I can't do that! I'm acceptin' I lost... but that don't mean I'm acceptin' yer words 's bein' right!”

Not a dodge, but Garfiel's true thoughts.

He acknowledges his loss. His opponents being numerous is a topic irrelevant to discussion. If he starts expounding why he lost, he would never end.

The problem is that nothing has sprouted in the depths of Garfiel's heart to instil him firm conviction in Subaru's claims.

Ultimately, the ideas he has obsessed over all until this point remain unchanged, and even should someone demand that he fight alongside them, he cannot simply nod in assent.

Garfiel: “What'm I meant t'do, with this, half-way situation...”

Ram: “If you don't want to be stuck at a halfway, then all you need to do is prove that you're moving.”

Garfiel: “...What?”

His breathing still ragged, Garfiel looks at Ram.

Her expression has regained its usual composure as she looks Garfiel straight in the eye.

In her eyes he sees the reflection of his own feeble face.

He would rather look away, but Ram's gaze does not permit him to.

Ram: “I don't know what Barusu said, but I can imagine it. And so, Garf... you should confirm it for yourself.”

Garfiel: “Confirm it, myself... confirm what?”

Ram: “Whether you're capable of changing, or whether you're still a petrified, whimpering child.”

Garfiel finally recognizes what she is telling him.

The instant he comprehends it, his heartbeat assaults him, thumping at an unprecedented speed.

Cold sweat streams down his back, sticking to him, spreading inside him.

His pulse grows wild, a ringing reverberating endlessly in his skull.

This is his trauma, with its barbed chains constricting his heart, great enough to bring these abnormalities all across his body.

He feels a chill, looks behind him. The tomb looms there as ever.

—Confirm. Something, in there.

Even supposing he went in, what could he confirm?

What new answer was Ram expecting him to find there?

Nothing would change. Nothing could change.

But why, even knowing this, was he failing to assert I WON'T GO, and instead wavering between I

WILL and I WON'T?

Garfiel: “...What'll I learn by going in?”

He's getting hooked into it. Utterly.

He didn't think anything would change, but he also desired to confirm it.

He stiffens in terror, his heart wailing in rejection, but his soul howling.

He wanted to confirm. He needed to confirm.

Confirm whether the bloody shrieks of the boy blocking his path, whether the assertions of Natsuki Subaru, were correct.

Confirm whether everything he had lived thus far had been mistaken.

Ram: “You look resolved.”

The chattering of his teeth, and the unrest of his heart, have calmed.

All signs of his cold sweat are gone. Garfiel wordlessly turns to face Ram.

Garfiel couldn't tell what she was expecting of him, with her stern words of encouragement. And perhaps the question of whether or not Garfiel would ally with them was not where Ram's focus lay.

They've known each other for a long time. There's some things he just understands.

What Ram seeks is not exactly for Garfiel to join them.

She seeks that Garfiel will reach a conclusion on how to live his life. Everything else is secondary.

She's a good lady, someone to be thankful for, thinks Garfiel.

Ram: “Don't worry, Garf.”

Perhaps unsettled by Garfiel's silence, a rare warmth peeks through in Ram's tone. She gives Garfiel's bare shoulders a light tap.

Ram: “If anything frightening enough happens that you cry, I'll comfort you. —Our relationship goes back a long way, after all.”