Re: Zero: A Hell of His Own Making

Prologue

It began as it always did: with the silence of his consciousness snapping back to reality.

First, he would be made aware of the immediate sensations, such as the warmth of the sheets enveloping his body, the cold breeze of the morning brushing against his skin and the feeling of heaviness nailing his body down on the bed.

Then, he would slowly open his eyes, batting the eyelids just enough to allow his sense of sight to adapt to the surrounding darkness, thus allowing him to slowly but steadily take in the layout of his surroundings.

Chief among the details was the soft but still fairly noticeable light seeping in through the window's curtains, the telltale sign that the dawn of a new day was approaching.

This prompted a series of sentences to manifest themselves within his mind:

"I live here, in Lord Roswaal's mansion."

A rather simple statement, even though the name now evoked... less than pleasant memories.

"Within this mansion, I worked as a butler, taking care of various chores and duties."

Another simple ascertainment, and yet he could feel another metaphorical sting pricking his brain at the thought of this fact.

"I recently became a knight in service of Emilia, one of the candidates for the Royal Selection."

A bit more complex, mainly due to the implications of the names mentioned within. This one was refreshingly pleasant, as long as he didn't dwell too long on what it took to achieve such a goal.

And finally, one last sentence, one that took its time to sink in, one that felt almost painful to acknowledge:

"I am Subaru Natsuki."

Ironically the simplest one out of them all, this final utterance shook him down to his core, shattering any semblance of tranquility that his awakening presented. Far too many were the implications that came with that name.

So many horrible recollections.

So many painful experiences.

So many failures.

So many moments lost, never to come back.

So many-

"Let Betty know when her contractor is done indulging his morbid fascination with the ceiling, I suppose!"

A familiar, high-pitched voice tugged at his attention, pulling him back into reality.

As his head turned to face the voice's source, he quickly recognized the small, but unmistakable silhouette of Beatrice, the spirit with whom he had established a contract.

She was sitting on her legs, perched close to the young man's pillow, her butterfly-patterned pupils gazing at him, allowing him to make out the pouting expression plastered across her face, her cheeks inflating in what was, for him, an adorable display of concern.

He wasn't bothered by how rudely she addressed him, he knew that was simply her way of showing that she cared, and had grown accustomed to it as time went by.

"My my, could it be that my sweet little Beako is asking for attentions from her dear contractor?" The boy replied as a smile found its way upon his lips.

Despite the room's darkness, he could quite clearly make out the almost instantaneous reddening of her face, to which he promptly reacted by extending his right hand, his palm resting upon the spirit's head as he gently patted her.

But as he did, he felt something: a burning, stinging, painful sensation lit up across his arm. At first it felt as little more than a light prick, but as he exerted himself further, the pain intensified.

He knew what it was, his body remembered it just as much as his mind did.

The feeling of the nerves contained within his limb lighting up as if set aflame, if only for a brief moment.

But it wasn't just the aching, in and of itself. No, it was what it represented within his mind that he focused on.

It was what someone like him deserved, more than anything else.

But something interrupted that train of thought.

It wasn't a sound, but rather the awareness of a change in Beatrice's expression.

She always was rather perceptive, and had noticed his instinctive flinching caused by the pain, helped by the fact that she knew what caused it.

Subaru saw his hand being held by both of the spirit's, which were much smaller by comparison.

The sensation was comforting, warm, it brought a sense of peace and quiet to his mind, if only for the few moments before she spoke to him:

"For how long do you intend to keep doing this to yourself, Subaru?"

While the typical vexation was undoubtedly present, her tone now seemed to harbor something else, a sense of sadness that was almost palpable.

His body flinched, both at the notion and at her question.

"W-well... no longer than necessary, I told you Beako, it's just a temporary habit, it'll be gone before you know it!"

His voice trembled with each syllable, but he powered through the shaken state of his mind.

All his ears perceived in response was a sigh, but his eyes also caught the faint movement of her lips shortly after, as if she whispered something.

He tilted his head slightly, as she turned around, jumped down from the bed and simply stood near the room's entrance, her back turned to him, her head held low.

The initial confusion in the boy's brain quickly turned into apprehension, as he scrambled to put on his everyday clothes.

"Beako, wait!"

He hastily yelled, a worrying swarm of thoughts threatening to envelop his very being.

What if she had enough?

What if she couldn't take it anymore?

What if the guilt got to her?

What if-

"You won't tell anyone, right Beako? It's a promise you've made to me, right? Please Beako, please don't- "

The boy's voice poured out like a stream from the top of a waterfall, the trembling from before now replaced with evident panic.

"Of course Betty won't, I suppose..."
Upon hearing those words, the swarm slowly dispersed, cleansing his mind of its addled state.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, leaned down and swiftly embraced the spirit.

"I'm sorry, Beako, I'm sorry for making you bear this burden, but..."

His words of apology were interrupted by her answer:

"...it's alright, I suppose."

Her tone was now almost unrecognizable from before. There was no prevalent emotion in it, the only discernable characteristic being a sense of tiredness.

He took a few moments to collect his thoughts from the previous moment of anxiety.

"I'll make up for it later today, I promise you."

At the sound of his voice, she raised her head, nodding silently with a barely perceivable sense of relief on her gaze.

And with that, another deep, relaxing breath allowed him to regain his composure, or rather, the semblance of it.

He looked back at his spirit, then at his room's door.

He knew that beyond it awaited yet another day.

Yet another chance to spend time with the people near and dear to his heart.

Yet another day in which he would be going through the motions of life, as mundane as they might be...

...and yet another gauntlet through which he, no matter what, will have to keep his well-guarded secret.

He quickly went through a recollection of his daily routine within his mind:

First, he would meet up with Ram, Frederica and Petra to see what chores had been assigned to each, and help in whatever way he could.

Second, he had to meet up with Garfiel, hopefully improving upon his skills thanks to the massive amounts of physical training.

Third, he would visit Emilia, the half-elven lady he was sworn to, and spend as much time as possible with her, in wait of the day she would say the words he uttered at the Sanctuary back to him.

Fourth, he should check in on Otto, helping him out with his likely busy workload so he wouldn't have to fall back on alcohol for stress relief.

Fifth, last but not least, there was Rem, the girl with whom he had been through so, so many trials ever since he came to this world. He would sit down in front of her bed and tell her how his day went, as he had already done without fail each day since she first fell into that deep state of slumber.

With all that sorted out, he was ready to face a new day.

He pulled the door open and stepped forth into the corridor.

But even with his newfound resolve, Beatrice's question still stood:

For how long could he go on like this?

How long before he would reach the breaking point?