Chapter Text
…
It took the dark-haired boy a while, to even notice how silent the battlefield had grown.
No more cries of pain, clashes of steel or stampedes of panic… nothing. To a teenager like him, raised in a bubble so unaccustomed to war, this complete stillness was even more frightening than the shouts of dying men.
Only the intense smell of blood filtered through the motionless world, running through each blade of grass like a budding river of crimson.
“Is— is it over…?”
He tried raising his body, but the screeching of muscles and bones convinced him otherwise. Instead, he rolled over and leaned on some nearby debris for support, managing to sit down and take a proper look at his surroundings.
“Ugh… my head hurts way too much…”
Blood trickled from somewhere above his face. Keeping his neck upright felt insurmountably tiring, his vision waved as if helpless to a raging sea, and he couldn’t quite figure out if all his limbs were still attached to his torso. In short, he was starting to develop a kinship for all the pages of homework he had crumpled out of frustration.
The only thing somewhat anchoring him down to Earth, was the warm taste of copper sneaking into his lips.
“E— Earth, huh…? I wonder what this isekai World is called-!”
A violent fit of coughing cut off the boy’s half-delirious comment, forcibly returning him to reality. He spit out a few drops of reddish saliva, which he was quite certain wasn’t its normal, healthy colour.
A feeble breeze reached his face, bringing a sorely needed breath of fresh air. The sluggish grinding of wind against the raised dust filled his battered ears, along with the movement of crimson grass and the soft whistle of a foreign tune—
A LOUD crash of metal suddenly boomed, echoing undisturbed throughout the fog-covered battlefield.
“W—” It took a moment too long to realise what had just happened. He instantly silenced himself, though he realised that mattered little at this point. He had been caught completely off-guard. The signature clanking of armor came from somewhere behind him, much closer than his heartbeat was comfortable with.
It occurred to the boy, that the armored man’s footsteps were far too quiet, far too irregular… more akin to a silent dance as they approached, closer yet closer, and ever so closer—
“I must commend you, really. Only a handful of people I’ve met would be capable of hiding so well.”
“…”
“Your talent is rare… alas, I’m ashamed to admit that I cheated.”
Another crash, this time accompanied by someone’s cry of pain. The scene was unfolding right in front of his eyes.
The armored man, clad in plates of silver and hair of gold, raised his bloodied boot from a nearby pile of debris. The sight was more than enough to stunlock the boy, especially when accompanied with a far too vivid image of what he hadn’t seen.
“I understand. Anyone would be trapped by fear in your stead.”
“Please—”
A blade’s whistle hushed the man. The victim’s voice melted into a wet gurgling sound, uniting with the murderer’s whistling to create a sickening music that drilled into his brain.
“This tune has a special place in my heart, you know? A goodnight’s melody, peaceful and calm.”
The man turned around. Those golden, maddened eyes had seen him, he was sure of it.
He needed to—
“It felt quite fitting, for the divine purpose I was bestowed with.”
The armored man— no, the Butcher standing in front of him smiled.
He smiled an innocent smile, though it felt like two strings had been forcefully pulled at the corners of his mouth.
A strange, almost contradictory description… and yet, it perfectly explained the instinctual chills running down his spine.
An ornate sword now pressed lightly against his throat, warning against any sudden movements.
“What a peculiar kid. You’re not from anywhere around here, are you?”
“…”
He had already heard that voice before.
An euphoric laugh. A dominant yet uncanny laughter, resonating through the frenzy of bloodshed like a Maestro conducting his concert.
“Silent treatment, hm? That’s no way to address a royal, young man.”
A small, almost inaudible creaking of metal accompanied the Butcher’s movement. His arm ever so slightly bent, his blade ever so lightly pressed, a warm sensation accompanied sharp pain… and all the boy could do was stare, as powerless as caught prey.
His brain had frozen in fear and indecision, unsure on how to survive those crazed golden eyes.
“Such a shame, really. Thrown into this by happenstance, without a clue nor anchor of context…”
A hint of curiosity. Half a moment of hesitation was all the Butcher spared him, before that warped melody resumed its tune.
“Rejoice, little lamb… Home awaits your return.”
—a wet, gurgling sound escaped the boy’s throat.
He failed to register what had actually happened. He didn’t even notice the strange feeling of weakness that had tightly wrapped around his muscles.
His body fell to the side, limp from a sense of loss that he couldn’t quite understand. Blood dripped like a tiny shower right in front of his eyes, a red-bathed blade barely within his narrowing vision.
“Such a sight… it always remains an unbearable sorrow to witness.”
A single warm tear fell onto his cheek.
A vague blur of silver and gold kneeled in front of his body. He tried to lift his face and meet the Butcher’s eyes, but failed.
He tried to raise his voice, to pathetically cry for help or at least spitefully curse his murderer. He failed.
“Alas, such tragedy is a necessity. Please bear with the pain, o’ young and virtuous Soul.”
‘Am I dying? I must be dying.’
His thoughts were all jumbled together, his fading consciousness the only thing keeping him somewhat coherent.
Red pooled all around him, an unpleasant sensation creeping into his eye as some of the liquid reached for his vision. He didn’t feel like moving his head away or batting his eyelids protectively, the effort required was titanic enough to dissuade his slothful self.
He felt incredibly vulnerable, but his sight had tunneled to the point he couldn’t be sure whether those creepy eyes were still looking down on him.
It seemed like this was ‘checkmate’ for him.
…Ever since he had been brought to this accursed forest, the feeling of being left behind had ceaselessly accumulated frustration in his soul. Everything had happened too fast, leaving him no time at all to understand.
“—understand?”
He desperately grasped at straws, meaninglessly scrambling for a reason he failed to understand.
When all things were said, all blades drawn and actions taken, his death had been entirely pointless. Not one notable achievement or eye-catching one liner… a corpse amongst many, killed and discarded a moment after.
Not even left with a few last words to fake some importance. That was the extent of attention the World has reserved for the boy.
“Just keep that name in mind, hmm? I’m quite sure we’ll meet again.”
A Serpent’s whispers where all he was left with. Her lie felt strangely reassuring, though he didn’t know why.
The Butcher’s clanking footsteps faded, their rhythm uneven as always. A whistled melody played undisturbed, dominating the silent field.
Everything was fading away. His body was unresponsive, his nerves were going numb and his senses had long stopped working properly. Blood unrelentingly flowed out his throat and he couldn’t do anything to stop it—
He kept forcing his lungs to breathe, a meaningless attempt to cling at something he had long ago lost. Nothing but a loser wasting time. That was the reality of his pathetic demise, so perfectly reflecting his own life.
By now, his brain couldn’t tell life and death apart anymore.
"…"
And yet, his stubbornness stood unfaltering. His refusal burned bright, rejecting a death deemed undesirable.
His vision darkened, his body failed and his mind ceased. Eventually, amongst the shadows scorched by his light, a gentle one’s hand advanced unafraid.
His soul didn't refuse— no, he longed for her embrace.
A short, long reunion took place. Darkness enveloped the soul, and time stopped mattering for both of them. It felt like forever, it felt like an instant.
It was time to return. To leave the cradle and begin anew.
As he parted from the Garden and her embrace… a Serpent’s final whisper, lingered in his memories.
"Your journey begins here, Natsuki Subaru."