The Sorcerer Killer's Third Chance (JJK x Re:ZERO)

It's Been Rough

No sleep.

Not a single bit.

Toji stood by his window, hands shoved deep into his pockets, shoulders tense. He stared into the faint light of dawn, the first orange rays filtering through the glass and stretching across the floorboards. The entire night, he'd kept the Ten Shadows Technique active. He could feel the Divine Dogs out there, quietly patrolling Roswaal's domain—his watchful guardians where he couldn't be.

The weight of sleeplessness tugged at his eyelids, and a dull ache settled in his gut. It ate at him, but he refused to give in. If the shaman moved at night, he'd catch a hint through the canines. He didn't trust anyone else to keep vigil, and he sure as hell wasn't about to risk letting the curse claim someone again.

A streak of early sunlight hit his face, and he blinked. Morning already. He rolled his shoulders once, trying to ease the stiffness in his neck, and turned from the window. Stepping out into the hallway, he found the long corridor still mostly cast in shadow. But a hint of soft, warm light had begun to spill in, inching its way across the walls.

As he walked, the sound of quiet watering caught his attention. Rounding a corner, he found Rem, crouched by a row of delicate flowers lined up by the window, a small watering can in hand. She straightened at the sound of his footsteps.

She blinked at the sight of him, taking in his exhausted state with a calm, steady gaze. "Toji-kun," she said quietly, "you look... tired." There was no accusation in her voice, just an observation. Her blue eyes flicked over the faint shadows under his eyes.

He shook his head, ignoring the spike of fatigue pressing against his skull. "I'm fine," he replied curtly, dismissing any concern she might show. A lie, but it didn't matter.

Rem lowered the watering can, studying him for another moment. She didn't press him further with questions, but he could see the hint of curiosity—and maybe something else—in her expression.

He kept his posture stiff, his mind already on the day's tasks. Better to maintain a stoic front. If she caught on to his restlessness or the reason behind it, she might pry further or—worse yet—figure out he was on guard for something much larger than chores. And for now, he couldn't let that happen.

"Morning," he said flatly, forcing the barest civility into his tone. Then, without waiting for a response, he walked past her, each step purposeful. He had to keep moving. He had a day's worth of work ahead—and another night of sleepless vigilance after that.

⟡

"Good morning... Toji," Emilia said gently, sitting on the steps of the manor's courtyard. A soft yawn escaped her lips, and Puck, perched lazily on her head, looked just as sleepy. The sky overhead was already bright, bathing them both in warm morning light.

"Morning," Toji replied, his voice low and monotone, as though he couldn't be bothered to muster any emotion at all. He stepped into the courtyard, the sun highlighting the fatigue beneath his eyes. He'd been pushing himself too hard, and it showed in the stiffness of his posture.

Emilia's brow furrowed with quiet worry. "Are you okay? You... look a little worn out," she ventured, her concern evident in the gentle tilt of her head.

Toji paused, turning slightly toward her but keeping his expression unreadable. "I'm fine," he said. The curt reply was followed by a half-shrug. His eyes, however, seemed dull—like he was only half present in the moment.

Puck stirred, his tail flicking back and forth. "No offense, but you look like you haven't slept a wink, Toji," the spirit observed, peering down from his perch on Emilia's silver hair.