Two figures walked side by side through the quiet corridor, their steps echoing against the marble walls of the Crusch residence.
Felix's ears drooped slightly as he broke the silence.
"It wasn't something unexpected," he murmured, his voice carrying weariness of someone who had already resigned himself to the truth. "His gate condition was at the final stage of the disease. His Od was completely wiped out. The fact that he was even walking on his own… that was a miracle in itself."
His tail flicked once, betraying his frustration. "It's a shame I didn't know sooner that he was ill. If we had detected the disease earlier, we might have had a chance to do something about it."
Crusch's stride slowed, her expression tightening though her voice remained composed. "Don't say that, Felix. We can't give up just yet. We are talking about the last living member of the royal family."
Felix's lips pressed into a thin line. He lowered his gaze, voice softer but unyielding. "I apologize, Crusch-Sama, but I'm trying to be realistic. At best, I can keep him alive for a month, and even during that time, it's unlikely he'll wake up. Unless we find a miraculous cure, he won't live either."
Crusch's emerald eyes hardened, her resolve evident even as she kept her composure. She stopped at the end of the hall, hands folded behind her back. "Send a messenger to the castle. Summon the royal physicians as well."
It wasn't a slight to Felix's abilities—far from it. In her eyes, he was the best healer in Lugunica. But she understood the gravity of the matter. A disease that eroded a man's Od demanded every possible perspective, and secrecy would be paramount.
Felix's ears perked back up in alarm. "Woah, woah—are you sure about that? Isn't that pretty much revealing his identity?"
"I've already discussed this with Mycroft," Crusch answered, her voice calm but firm. "We'll approach it with utmost secrecy. He is the heir to the throne—we must do everything in our power to save him."
Tanaka had never spoken a word about his lineage, not to Subaru, not even to Rem. To the very end, he had hidden it. Only through her divine blessing had Crusch learned the truth.
Felix sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck. "That being said… I think he made it very clear he doesn't want anything to do with politics, let alone rule a country."
That was true. Tanaka despised politics—he loathed them. Anyone who had seen his demeanor during the Royal Selection could attest to that.
Crusch's eyes narrowed in thought. "Have Natsuki Subaru and Rem not returned yet? They must be informed of his condition as well."
Felix's tail twitched. "Rem said they went to buy groceries… but it's been hours."
Crusch's brow furrowed at that, though before she could respond, the two reached the chamber door. The scent of fresh air wafted faintly through the gap beneath it.
She opened the door.*Her voice caught in her throat. "Regardless, keep an eye on him until—"
The room was empty.
The bed—untouched. The window—wide open.
There is no way, he could have woken up, let alone move.
Or at least that's what they thought.
Crusch's eyes suddenly landed on something at the desk.
A folded letter, resting neatly upon the polished wood.
Her hand hovered above it, her usually unshakable resolve wavering for the briefest of moments.
I am sorry for abruptly leaving, but I had urgent matters to attend to. I am also sorry for suddenly falling unconscious and worrying you over nothing.
You do not need to trouble yourself over my condition, nor the fact that I do not possess Od. I was told long ago that the mana within my gate is pure—apparently to such an extent that I have no need to recycle mana within it. So long as I am careful with how much magic I use, I will live.
A word of advice, offered as courtesy for taking care of us: do not fight the White Whale.
I know of your expedition and your intent to be rid of that beast. But there are many issues. You lack the knowledge and the strategy needed to kill it. You may have the raw strength, but that is not enough. If you proceed as you are now, you will only lead your men to their deaths.
*********************************************************************************************************
Tanaka sat at its edge, hunched slightly forward, his elbows resting on his knees. In his hand, a cigarette burned low, smoke curling upward and dissolving into the day sky. His gaze was distant, lost somewhere beyond the rippling surface of the fountain, yet beneath that distance lay a weight of quiet resolve.
"I finally found you, brother…"
The voice broke the quiet, casual yet directed squarely at him. Tanaka didn't even turn—he already recognized the manner of speech.
"Why were you looking for me in the first place, Al?"
A figure approached, armored yet relaxed in posture, his mechanical hand glinting faintly under the moonlight. Al's voice carried that easygoing drawl, but there was sharpness beneath it.
"Is bein' this gloomy part of your default settings, or what? The princess asked me to find you, drag you along to our camp. Not that I didn't warn her—the chances of you saying yes are pretty much zero."
Tanaka finally turned his head, exhaling smoke through his teeth. "That is correct. Anyway… why would she even want me in her camp after all the crap that happened before the Royal Selection?"
His voice was steady, but inside he felt that same strangeness he had before. He had spoken to Priscilla once in her carriage—an encounter that ended with her nearly beheading him. And Felt, of all people, had asked him to join her campaign after nothing more than a passing interaction at the castle.
Al shrugged, his helmet bobbing lazily. "You don't gotta overthink it, brother. The princess just does as she pleases. If she wanted you around, it's probably just 'cause she figured you'd amuse her."
Tanaka gave a small, bitter chuckle. "Ah. That makes sense. Your princess sounds like a handful. Sorry you came all this way for nothing."
His cigarette's ember flared red in the dark as he drew in another breath, the smoke drifting upward like a muted sigh.
Al tilted his head, breaking the silence. "It's fine, don't sweat it. Anyway, what are you doing here, and where's my other bro?"
Tanaka flicked ash from the cigarette, his expression unreadable. "Subaru right now is probably about to start his new life."
Al crossed his arms, the faint creak of metal accompanying the motion. "That's a bit vague."
Tanaka didn't elaborate. He couldn't. Telling Al about Kararagi, about Rem and Subaru's departure, would risk more than words—it could alter the outcome of everything. Best to keep it vague.
"And as for me," he said at last, a trace of dry humor curling in his voice, "I'm here because I finally decided to quit smoking."
Al's helm tilted again. "Well that's great to hea—hold on. Why are you lighting up a cigarette then?"
Tanaka gave the faintest of smirks. "Because this is officially my last one. I don't have any left after this. So once I finish it, I quit. Responsible adult, you see."
Al let out a short laugh, scratching at his helmet with his mechanical fingers. "Well… that's one way of doing it."
The humor faded as quickly as it had come. Al shifted his stance, his tone softening. "What are you planning to do now?"
Tanaka didn't answer immediately. He leaned back slightly, exhaling smoke toward the sky above. Letting Subaru and Rem go hadn't been easy. It tore at him in ways he couldn't put into words. But the conclusion he had reached, after years of turning it over in his mind, was simple: he himself was a variable.
The doom that awaited the Emilia camp had always hinged on Subaru. No one else could stand in the way of that despair, no one else could warn them. But Tanaka… Tanaka was different. He was never meant to exist in this world. He was an anomaly, a piece that didn't belong on the board.
And if he was a piece outside the rules, then he would play outside them.
He remembered one loop where he and Rem had reached the mansion early—just barely in time to witness the aftermath instead of the slaughter itself. He remembered the whale's looming shadow, and the thought that if he moved first, earlier, he could divert it entirely. He remembered the small spirits he had gathered, dozens of them across the capital, allies only he could rely on.
He couldn't risk help. Not from Crusch, not from Anastasia, not even from the knights. Any interference could trigger a butterfly effect that would ripple toward Subaru and Rem. They needed a clean path to their future.
And so, after over a decade of weighing paths and regrets, he had made his choice.
"I'm going to solve everything on my own," Tanaka said finally, his voice quiet but carrying a hard edge of resolve.
Al stared at him, motionless for a moment, before giving a faint shrug. "Alright, you do you. But let me ask you this—" his tone grew sharper, "—you won't regret this either, right?"
Tanaka chuckled under his breath, the sound bitter and self-mocking."Sorry. That wasn't supposed to be funny."
It wasn't laughter—it was a crack in the mask, the kind of laugh you gave when you knew pain was coming.
"I've already made choices I thought were right," Tanaka continued, eyes fixed on the dying ember of his cigarette, "and still ended up regretting them. Even when I was convinced it was the best path… I regretted them."
There was no guarantee of success now. His odds were slim—painfully slim. But this was the only plan that spared everyone.
Two paths had been laid before him: sacrifice the mansion, or sacrifice Subaru and Rem's future.
Fuck those options.
There was only one choice he would accept: go to Roswaal's territory, stand against the Witch Cult, and save everyone. If he reached the mansion early, if he found Puck, the two of them together could bring down Betelgeuse.
It was too greedy, too reckless. He might fail spectacularly. He might doom them all.
And even if he succeeded… he wouldn't see Subaru and Rem again for twelve long years.
Until both their children are born.
But still—he had to try.
A heavy sigh slipped past his lips, the smoke curling out with it. "I think the thing we earthlings all share is… shit luck."
Al chuckled, pointing casually at his missing arm. "Well, don't be so sure about that. At least you still have all four limbs intact."
Tanaka blinked, caught off guard, then shook his head quickly."Ah—sorry. I didn't mean it that way. I don't plan to undermine your… shit luck."
The cigarette ember flared again as he drew in another breath, exhaling slowly before continuing."You've been here eighteen years. Of course you've had to run into more bullshit than me. If we somehow make it that far too, another eighteen years…" he gave a weak smirk, "I'm sure we'll catch up eventually."
Al's laugh boomed a little louder this time, though still muffled by the helmet."Ahaha, I suppose you do have a point, brother. I lost an arm, sure, but it could've been worse. I could've lost my balls…"
Tanaka's brow arched, caught between disbelief and amusement."Wait. Did something like that actually happen?"
Al froze theatrically, one hand lifting to scratch at his helmet."…It's a traumatic memory, so I'd rather not talk about it."
Tanaka winced, grimacing. "Yeah. I don't want you to talk about it either."
The two of them shared a small silence after that—strange, uneasy, but familiar in its own way.
Then a voice rang out from behind, cutting through the air.
"Tanaka-Sama. We will get going in half an hour."
It was a middle-aged man, bowing respectfully. Tanaka had approached him earlier that day, right after waking from a restless midday sleep. He had searched quickly and without pause, desperate to secure a way forward. The merchant had been skeptical at first, but the coin Tanaka offered—everything he had stored away, a significant fortune by common measure—was more than enough to sway him. Enough to accept his request without questions.
Tanaka stubbed out his cigarette, flicking the last ember to the ground. "Well…" his tone was quieter now, heavier, "my carriage is here. I better get going."
But before he could move, a voice called out—sharp, urgent.
"Tanaka-Kun! Wait!"
He froze.
That voice.
It was a voice he wasn't supposed to hear again. One that twisted something deep inside his chest the instant it reached him.
His breath caught. His eyes widened, trembling as they shifted toward the source. "What are you doing here?" His voice cracked, unsteady, as if saying the words hurt.
Al's hand came down on his shoulder, firm and grounding. "I'll head out now," Al said quietly. "Take care, brother."
But Tanaka didn't hear him. Couldn't.
His gaze was fixed ahead, locked onto the figure now standing before him. A girl with soft blue hair that shimmered faintly in the day light.
Rem.
She was never supposed to be here. He had accepted that truth, carved it into his resolve. And yet… here she was.
"I was looking for you, I can no longer track your scent but luckily you were with Al-Sama." she said, her voice steady yet tinged with something vulnerable.
Tanaka's throat tightened. He forced the words out, but they came broken, desperate. "Why?"
His voice cracked again, eyes trembling as if weighed down by despair. "Why aren't you with Subaru? Why didn't you leave the capital?"
A chill rushed through him, panic clawing at his chest. Was it me? Did I do something—something that changed things?
Rem's eyes widened, confusion flashing across her face. "How did you…?"
Tanaka wasn't there when Subaru asked her, so how did he know.
"Didn't he tell you what's going on?" Tanaka pressed, almost pleading. "Didn't he ask you to go with him?"
The white whale that terrorized this world for centuries.
The witch cult and the sin archbishop, targeting
Rem hesitated, her hands tightening at her sides. Then she nodded faintly. "Yes… he did. But I refused."
Tanaka's breath hitched. "Why?" he asked, the word trembling as it left his lips. "I thought you… liked him."
Rem's gaze lowered for a moment. She hesitated, her lips parting soundlessly before she finally spoke, her voice soft but unwavering."I love Subaru-Kun."
"Then why??" His voice rose, raw, desperate.
And then it hit him. A sickening clarity settled over him like cold iron.
It's me.
It was because of him. The only variable in this world. In every path, every loop, every outcome, he was never meant to exist. And yet here he was.Rem had come to him herself—her path diverted, her choice altered—because he was here.
Tanaka's throat tightened as he forced out the words."Rem… You… you don't know what you're giving up."
If she had seen what he had seen—the life Subaru and her could have had together, the fleeting peace, the children and the friends they will have—she would never speak like this. She couldn't.
But Rem only smiled faintly, as if she were the one comforting him."You are too kind, Tanaka-Kun."
"When bad things happen, when others make mistakes…" Her eyes softened, her tone gentle but piercing. "Tanaka-Kun always blames himself. Even when it can't possibly be his fault."
The memories rushed back unbidden. The fight in the forest against the Witch Beasts, Subaru nearly broken, Rem battered. She remembered the guilt that hollowed him, how he had carried it alone even when there was no reason to.
"I didn't go with Subaru because I didn't want to lose him either, because I wanted him to continue being the hero he is."
Rem's voice steadied. "We made our own choices. And we will take responsibility for our actions."
His hands curled into fists at his sides. His voice came out hoarse, almost pleading. "What if you end up regretting it?"
Rem closed her eyes briefly, then opened them with quiet resolve. "That might be possible. I might be giving up a lot of happiness…" She drew a breath, her tone unwavering now. "But I can't be selfish."
Tanaka's composure cracked, his voice almost a shout. "No—you can be selfish! In this case, it's okay to be selfish!"
It wasn't just her happiness she was giving up. It was an entire life—her smile in another man's arms, her children's laughter, the future she deserved. If anyone had the right to be selfish, it was her.
But Rem shook her head, her gaze steady and serene. "You saved me, Tanaka-kun. You saved my sister. You saved Emilia-Sama. You saved the village. This is my choice."
Her words were not mere gratitude—they were fact, unshakable truth.
"I choose this," she continued, her voice trembling only with sincerity. "I don't want Tanaka-Kun to shoulder everything alone again. I want to help."
Tanaka's breath shuddered. The weight of her declaration pressed into him.
Rem bowed deeply before him, her blue hair falling like a curtain of silk, her voice carrying both humility and iron resolve. "Please allow me… Rem, the head maid of the mansion of Margrave Roswaal L. Mathers, to assist you in the hurdles to come."
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________
"I give up," Tanaka muttered, dragging a hand down his face. His shoulders slumped, though his eyes still held a sharp glint. "You're too stubborn."
Rem smiled faintly, dipping her head. "Thank you, Tanaka-Kun."
"That wasn't a compliment!" he snapped back, exasperation bleeding into his tone.
What he meant was simple: he had given up trying to sway her. Convincing Rem was like trying to push back the tide—useless, no matter how hard he tried.
He sighed, shifting gears. "What are you guys planning? Where's Subaru right now?"
Rem's expression softened, tinged with concern. "We met with Crusch-sama earlier. She told us about what happened… and the letter you left. I should've asked this sooner, but…" Her eyes clouded with hesitation. "Are you okay, Tanaka-kun?"
Of course—he had written in that letter that his condition was stable. But that had been words on a page, delivered without explanation, and then he had vanished. No reassurance, no proof.
"I'm fine," he replied quickly, brushing it off with a firmness that only half-masked the weariness in his voice. "And regarding my condition, you don't need to worry about it anymore."
But Rem's worried gaze lingered, the corners of her lips pulling down.
"Hey! That's not what I meant, so don't misunderstand!" Tanaka groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. His sigh came long and heavy, a sound that betrayed how exhausted he was of repeating himself. "I'm not trying to act tough, truly. I'm not saying I'm cured. But that condition no longer poses a threat to my life."
Rem's eyes widened, the shadow in them lifting. "Really?"
"Yes," he said firmly. "I swear I'm telling the truth. As for the details—or how I know that—it'll take too long to explain now. We don't have the time. Let's save that for later."
Relief washed over her face, though she quickly gathered herself, tucking her emotions back behind her usual composure.
"Anyway," Tanaka continued, his voice hardening, "back to my question. Where is Subaru?"
"He stayed with Crusch-Sama," Rem answered. "He said he knows how to convince her about forming an alliance."
"I see…" Tanaka's eyes narrowed slightly. That confidence of Subaru's meant only one thing: he had figured it out.
He figured out that they were planning to hunt the witch beast.
The White Whale. Its place of appearance. The approximate time it would arrive. With that knowledge, Subaru could step onto the negotiation table as an equal.
Rem broke his thoughts. "What are you planning to do, Tanaka-kun?"
"Well," he admitted with a rueful smile, "now that my initial plans are ruined, I'm going to change my approach."
His gaze softened as it fell on her. "You convinced me. I still think you and Subaru deserve a peaceful life, and honestly, I should still be trying to push you toward it. But…" His shoulders relaxed, a wry chuckle escaping him. "Since you're being so damn stubborn, I'll concede."
If they wanted the best chance at victory, then they would need every ally they could gather.
"I'm going to secure another ally."
He could trust Subaru to bring Crusch to their side, and even if Subaru failed, Tanaka knew he could reframe his arguments and work them around Crusch's divine protection. That would be enough.
But his own path had to diverge. His focus now needed to shift elsewhere—towards a different kind of player.
The greedy merchant.
Anastasia Hoshin.
As the son of a very successful entrepreneur, he learned from the best how to deal with people like her.
And now, he would put that knowledge to use.