Unlikely Proposal

Early morning bathed the royal garden in a pale, bluish light. Dew still clung to the leaves, shimmering as faint beams of magic energy wove through the air like ribbons—ethereal strands dancing with the morning breeze. Seated alone at a marble table, Tanaka sat still, elbows on the surface, hands loosely clasped as if in prayer or quiet contemplation. Before him, tiny motes of light hovered and pulsed—minor spirits, drawn to his presence like moths to a hidden flame.

"I haven't forgotten about my promise to Beatrice," he murmured, his voice tinged with guilt and weariness. "And honestly… I feel like crap because of it. But there's nothing I can do right now."

His fingers rested on the cool surface of the table as he stared at the spirit closest to him, its glow dimming slightly in shared sympathy. The guilt had been gnawing at him ever since that day. The promise he made to Beatrice was important—but it wasn't the original one. No, his words to her had been born from a promise of his own.

"We will meet again, I promise."

Those were the final words of the being he encountered when he first awoke—the entity that showed him a future soaked in blood and despair. A warning. A guide.

Given the fact that, the entity that encountered was a being that was capable of showing the future and alternate it, it was natural for him to assume that the entity might know something about the person Beatrice is looking for.

From what Tanaka could grasp, given this world's logic and common sense, the entity was most likely a spirit—not unlike the ones that now floated around him. It had appeared as a sphere of white light, radiant and formless, but unmistakably different from ordinary spirits. It reminded him of the quasi-spirits he'd seen at the castle: more intelligent, more powerful, and crucially, capable of speech.

And yet, even now, Tanaka had no explanation for how he communicated with spirits at all. It wasn't speech. It wasn't thought. It was something stranger—He could sense their feelings with surprising clarity: their sadness, their jealousy, their concern and curiosity. They too could sense his emotions, and somehow that bridge was enough.

"Do you guys seriously have no idea where that spirit went?" he asked aloud, scanning the blue-hued wisps.

The spirits pulsed with confusion and denial. Not a trace. Not a hint. 

Tanaka leaned back with a long, frustrated sigh, exhaling through his nose.

"Of course not…"

He'd asked before. Many times. Even after the whole incident with Rem and the curse had settled, he had inquired—desperate for even a sliver of recognition. But not a single spirit, from the weakest wisp to the grandest sprite, knew anything about that sphere of light. It was as if it never existed.

"She said we'd meet again…" he whispered, his gaze drifting skyward where the morning haze clung to the edges of the mansion's walls. "But from the way things are going, I'm probably going to die before that happens."

The spirits hovered closer, vibrating gently with concern.

Tanaka gave a tired smile. Not for comfort. Just a small flicker of warmth in an otherwise heavy silence.

To think that at the beginning he was scared of these tiny beings and he tried to evade them. But ever since he came to this world. They were always there for him, protecting him and never leaving him alone.

"I don't deserve you guys..."

The spirits responded in kind—bobbing and shimmering like it was no big deal. The way they reacted—so carefree, so sincere—it made Tanaka chuckle under his breath. Their childlike innocence reminded him of how fairies were portrayed in old cartoons—playful, loyal, and a little clueless.

But the moment of lightness faded as a dark thought crept back into his mind.

'Wait a second… what about Return by Death?'

His smile faltered.

He had forgotten something crucial.

Will this illness really kill him for good? 

Return by Death had always been triggered by murder, a catastrophe, something external. 

But this time should be different. This was his body shutting down from the inside. No assassins. No monsters. Just… decay.

Logically, that should be the case.

But still, he had no way to confirm it.

If Return by Death did activate—if it dragged him back into his body again and again, making him relive this slow deterioration in an endless loop—

He'd go insane.

The idea made his stomach twist.

"Oh God… please… I hope this illness kills me quickly," he muttered under his breath, voice barely audible.

But a new voice broke the stillness.

"I wonder what happened to make a young man say something like that."

He turned around to see Wilhelm van Astrea, standing calmly just a few paces behind, holding a towel, his eyes fixed on him with that usual blend of sternness and quiet empathy.

"Augh… can you pretend you didn't hear that?" Tanaka said with a dry chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. "No, wait. That's probably impossible, huh?"

What he had said wasn't something anyone could ignore. Not a friend, not a stranger. It was the kind of sentence that clung to the air like smoke.

Wilhelm took a slow step forward. His expression didn't change, but his gaze softened slightly.

"It's no secret to anyone that you seem tired of this world. But still… hearing someone so young wish for death is never easy. It unsettles the heart."

Tanaka looked away, biting back the urge to say something flippant. Wilhelm wasn't lecturing him. He was simply… worried. And somehow, that made it worse.

"Do you want to get it off your chest?" Wilhelm asked.

"Not really," Tanaka muttered, folding his arms over his chest. "No offense, but if I do, you'll probably say something wise and then start preaching about how I should cling to hope, keep pushing forward, endure the pain because it'll all be worth it someday."

Wilhelm let out a quiet chuckle—low and dry, almost self-deprecating. "Your words are kind, but I'm afraid you're overestimating me. I'm just a foolish old man… carrying more regrets than wisdom."

Tanaka's shoulders loosened slightly, his lips twitching into something that was not quite a smile.

"Well, either way… it's not like there's much I can do about it. My condition is what it is. I'm not choosing to die—it's more like I'm choosing not to fight back."

Because he had enough. 

Because it was simply not worth it.

His voice dimmed toward the end, barely rising above a whisper. There was no bitterness in it. No anger. Just exhaustion—bone-deep and hollow.

He let the words linger, suspended in the stillness between them like smoke that refused to dissipate.

"I don't claim to be the one who's suffered the most. Honestly, I think Subaru's had it way worse. He's just a kid, and yet he's dealing with all this… better than I am."

He shook his head slowly, the memory of that stubborn, loudmouthed idiot flickering through his mind. If he discounted the events of the alternate timeline, Subaru had died six times already—six—while he'd only died once.

That alone was enough to make Tanaka hold back any criticism for Subaru's outbursts at the castle.

"I appreciate the fact that you're sparring with him," Tanaka said quietly.

Wilhelm smiled—an almost imperceptible curve of his lips, laced with weariness and a sliver of pride.

"I should be the one thanking him," he replied. "He's the one helping this old man pass the time." A pause, then a faint sigh. "Though I'm ashamed to admit there hasn't been much progress worth mentioning."

Tanaka glanced toward the gravel path where the morning sun broke through the trees. "That's fine. There's no need for progress."

He turned his eyes back toward Wilhelm.

"Anything that keeps his mind busy… is good enough."

A hush settled between them, not uncomfortable but thoughtful. The chirping of distant birds filled the silence, carried on the breeze that rustled the garden leaves.

Then, the stillness was broken by hurried footsteps crunching across the gravel. A gatekeeper rounded the corner and approached Wilhelm with a quick, respectful bow.

"Sir Wilhelm," the man said, slightly winded. "The Sword Saint has arrived."

The sword saint, Reinhard Van Astrea, the strongest person in the kingdom. He did come to this estate once to meet Subaru, Tanaka wasn't present but they probably spoke about the duel that occurred between him and Julius. 

Wilhelm's brow furrowed slightly. "Tell him that Crusch-Sama is not present at the moment."

The gatekeeper shifted uncomfortably, then shook his head. "Forgive me, sir… but he's not here for Lady Crusch."

Wilhelm raised an eyebrow, and Tanaka felt his own stomach tighten as the guard turned to him.

"He's actually hoping to speak with… Tanaka-Sama."

Tanaka blinked. "Me?"

The guard nodded, his posture unwavering but clearly curious himself.

Tanaka's mind reeled. That guy? Why me? Besides that fleeting, one-sided encounter in the castle where Reinhard had looked at him—but said nothing—they'd never spoken a single word.

"Well… I guess I better go see what he wants."

With a tired groan, he rose from the bench. The soft blue glow of the spirits dimmed slightly as they floated beside him, as if sensing something uncertain ahead.

As Tanaka followed the gatekeeper toward the inner courtyard, the scene faded.

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Just outside the gates, the red-haired knight stood. Reinhard van Astrea—unshakable, calm, and radiant in a way that wasn't just about appearance. He turned his head at Tanaka's approach, offering a small, respectful nod.

"She wants to see me?" Tanaka asked, his brows furrowed in confusion.

Reinhard nodded. "Yes."

One of the royal candidates. The girl Reinhard served—bold, energetic and foul-mouthed, from what little he'd seen. "I don't recall ever speaking with her," he muttered. "Why would she want to meet me?"

He remembered their only encounter back at the castle—if it could even be called that. 

"You're not alone in your confusion," Reinhard said, his expression calm but sincere. "She didn't explain the reason. Only asked that I bring you to her, if you were willing."

Tanaka crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing in thought. "Huh… That's weird. Feels like I'm getting pulled into something again."

He was quiet for a moment, his thoughts churning. But eventually, he let out a breath and gave a half-shrug.

"Well… I suppose I don't have a reason to say no."

Reinhard gave a light smile—a smile of relief. "Thank you. She'll be glad to hear that."

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The sun filtered through the tall windows of the Astrea Manor, casting golden shafts of light across the polished marble floors. The manor stood proud in the Noble District of the Royal Capital.

Inside, the atmosphere was unexpectedly casual.

"Hey, Oji-San! You still look gloomy—but hey, that's an upgrade from the last time I saw you!"

Felt's voice rang out before Tanaka had fully stepped into the room. She sat cross-legged on an ornate couch, arms folded behind her head, her crimson eyes glinting with mischief.

Reinhard's gaze shifted to her, a mild crease forming between his brows. "Felt-Sama, why are you wearing those clothes again? Were the dresses I prepared not to your liking?"

Felt's expression soured instantly. "Those things? I could barely move in them!" she barked, waving her hand dismissively. "How do you expect anyone to fight or run in those shitty dresses?"

"Language," Reinhard and Tanaka said in unison—Reinhard slightly more stern, Tanaka more exasperated.

Reinhard followed up immediately, his tone composed but firm. "Please watch your language, Felt-Sama."

Felt blinked, clearly thrown off by their synchronized scolding. She turned her head slowly, squinting suspiciously at Tanaka. "Wait a second… Did he infect you with his stupid elegance, Oji-San?"

Tanaka sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Sorry. Force of habit."

He then narrowed his eyes at her, clearly unamused. "Anyway, did you call me here just to make fun of me? And what the hell is with calling me 'uncle'?"

Felt leaned forward slightly, chin resting on her hand as if genuinely curious. "Well then, what should I call you?"

Before he could answer, Tanaka narrowed his eyes as something clicked. "Wait. Hold on. How old do you think I am?"

She shrugged, unfazed. "I dunno. Thirty?"

"You must be joking, right?"

She wasn't.

There was no trace of humor in her expression—no smirk, no raised brow. Just blunt, matter-of-fact honesty. That, somehow, made it worse.

Reinhard stepped in gently, his voice as polite as ever. "That's a bit rude, Felt-Sama. He appears to be in his mid-twenties at most."

Tanaka turned to Reinhard, clearly unamused. "You're wrong too."

Felt looked between the two men, genuinely baffled now.

Tanaka crossed his arms and muttered under his breath, "Just for your information…" He hesitated, eyeing Reinhard for a moment. "Actually, how old are you?"

"Nineteen," Reinhard replied without pause.

Tanaka's eyebrows rose ever so slightly, surprised. "Huh. Guess I'm older after all." He turned to Felt and added with a small huff, "Well, there you go. I'm twenty. Just turned a few days ago."

Felt blinked once. Then twice. Her expression twisted in disbelief. "You're joking, right?"

Tanaka stared at her flatly. "Do I look like I'm joking?"

A brief silence passed. Felt studied him, her expression oddly thoughtful. Then, with a casual shrug, she grinned.

"Well, my bad. I'll just call you Nichan then."

Tanaka raised an eyebrow but didn't argue. "Sure, sure. Anyway... how about you tell me the real reason you called me here?"

"Oh yeah…" Felt scratched the back of her head sheepishly. "Almost forgot about that."

She straightened up a little, her tone shifting. "I want you to join me."

Tanaka blinked. "…Beg your pardon?"

He wasn't sure if he'd misheard—or if she was just messing with him.

"I said," she repeated, firmer this time, "join me."

He leaned back slightly, eyes narrowing. "I heard you. But… why? We've barely spoken. This is literally our first conversation."

The request came out of nowhere. There was no build-up, no context. Just a sudden invitation into her political party.

Felt crossed her arms, one brow raised. "You hate nobles, right?"

Tanaka gave her a sidelong look. "…I suppose I do."

She leaned forward, eyes gleaming with mischief. "What about knights? Don't like them either?"

"Hate's a strong word," Tanaka said, scratching his cheek. "If you're talking about what happened at the castle, it wasn't about knights per se. I just can't stand people who walk around thinking they're hot shi—"

He stopped himself, clearing his throat. "People who are full of themselves. And that room had plenty of that. I just like making fun of them."

He started to understand the situation a bit. In a way, he also stood up for her when they were rattling her and Emilia with insult. But back then, he was doing it out of spite and surely she knew that. 

He shrugged. "Anyway, what's your point?"

Felt didn't hesitate. "I'm not doing this because I want to be queen. Honestly? I got dragged into this mess."

She looked away, voice tinged with irritation. "I hate this country. I hate the nobles. I hate the knights."

Her crimson eyes locked back onto his. "So if I'm gonna do this... I'm gonna tear it all down and build something new. Something better."

Tanaka was silent for a moment, then gave a tired sigh. "Well… I wasn't expecting that. But still, thanks for the offer."

His voice softened slightly. "But I've got to decline."

He leaned back against the couch, hands loosely clasped in his lap. "Yeah, we share a few opinions. But I really can't stand politics and I don't want to get involved in these shenanigans." 

He hesitated, then added, "And for what it's worth… I know I said otherwise back in the castle, but the truth is—I was part of Emilia's camp. You know, the silver-haired girl."

Felt nodded, unsurprised. "Yeah, I met Onee-Chan once. I kinda had a hunch you were with her."

She didn't look disappointed—just resigned. She sensed what kind of person he was. And considering he'd already walked away from one faction, she understood he wasn't the kind to bounce around camps on a whim.

With a sigh, she muttered, "Well, that's a bummer. But whatever. I'm not the type to force people to do something they don't wanna do."

She then threw a sharp glare at Reinhard, who responded with a bright smile and said, "That attitude is what makes you admirable, Felt-Sama."

"Shut up," she snapped, cheeks flushing slightly.

Tanaka watched them bicker with mild amusement, then chuckled. "For what it's worth… I honestly can't stand any of the other royal candidates. You and Emilia are the only two I'd want to see win. It'd be nice to watch those up in charge choke on their words."

Felt smirked at that. "Damn right. Just leave it to me."

She extended her hand toward him. "And hey—if you ever change your mind, the offer still stands."

Tanaka smiled faintly and shook her hand. "Good luck."

Their hands clasped briefly, a silent acknowledgment passing between them. Afterward, Reinhard stepped forward and gave Tanaka a courteous nod before escorting him back toward the estate.

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Crusch Manor — Later That Morning

As Tanaka returned to the estate, the air was quiet and crisp. Rem and Subaru were still out—their trip to the market likely taking longer than expected. The halls of the mansion were calm, bathed in soft daylight filtering through the high windows.

Turning a corner, Tanaka found himself face-to-face with Crusch, who appeared composed as ever, her hands behind her back and her expression unreadable.

He recalled his conversation with her last night. It felt awkward to interact with her after that but he still chose to act naturally. 

"You're up early. Or rather, you've been working early."

She inclined her head. "I left shortly after dawn. Had a meeting with Miklotov regarding the royal selection."

Tanaka paused, the name jogging a memory. "Ah… that old man."

He was a member of the council of the wise, with long white hair and a long white beard. He was the guy who sat in the middle and the only one who made some sense back then. 

Crusch gave the faintest hint of a smile.

Then, her tone shifted slightly. "By the way, I heard the Reinhard was looking for you earlier."

He gave a tired shrug. "Yeah. He wanted to talk. Nothing major."

A second passed, and he added with a dry chuckle, "Still, I'd rather not keep talking too long. With you, it always feels like the conversation turns into an interrogation."

Crusch raised an eyebrow, but her voice remained calm. "If you'd rather not share, I won't pry."

A small silence settled between them.

She broke it again. "Subaru and Rem aren't here, by the way."

Tanaka nodded. "Yeah. They left early this morning to get groceries. Should be back soon."

Another quiet pause.

"Well," he said at last, rubbing the back of his neck. "I think I'll head to my room for now."

Crusch nodded, and they parted ways.

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Tanaka stepped into his room, shut the door, and leaned against it for a moment. 

He took off his shoes, slid on his earphones, and let the music flow through him as he collapsed onto the bed. His gaze wandered up to the ceiling.

A lot happened.

A lot is happening. 

Thoughts swirled—doubts, fragments of the past, concerns about the future.

"Don't think about it..." He muttered, his voice barely audible. 

He was tired and he only wanted some peace. 

Time passed. Hours, maybe. The world outside his thoughts blurred.

Then—clack, clack! The unmistakable sound of wooden swords clashing echoed from the courtyard.

Curious, he sat up and peered through the window. Below, he saw Subaru engaged in a spirited sparring match with Wilhelm.

The older man moved with practiced grace, while Subaru struggled to keep up—sweating, stumbling.

Tanaka gave a quiet sigh. "At least he's still energetic."

Just as he turned away from the window, his door creaked open.

Rem stepped inside, her face unusually serious.

"We need to talk," she said quietly.

Tanaka sighed and rubbed his temples. "If this is about yesterday…"

But she cut him off.

"It's Nee-Sama," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Tanaka froze.