“…A-ack!!-”

          “Harold-sama!”

          The needle pulled out from his arm, and Harold burst out into an annoying coughing fit which he had been holding back for the duration of the blood draw. Norman quickly slapped his back with an open palm and waited for him to calm down, before reaching over to the desk to hand Harold his fifth Nihann specialty chrysanthemum tea since this morning. The Summeragi doctor with a messy bowl cut patted his shoulder as well, before wrapping a small bandage around the bend in his arm.

          “Thank you.”

          “Ah, I-I am undeserving of your praise, Harold-sama…!

          “I don’t care about -cough-, you. I was thanking Norman.”

          “Eh-!? Ah, o-of course, it is only my job after all, haha…”          

           The doctor made a pathetic face, before quickly checking the vial and disposing of the needle properly. Harold looked away; what he’d said wasn’t entirely a lie, but he hadn’t intended to actually say it out loud! But before he could whither away in the awkward silence, his reliable right-hand-man suddenly launched a rescue flare.

           “Harold-sama, please be kind to the young man; he worked hard for your sake.”

           “No, it’s okay I-”

           “Hm, you’re right. I’ve just been -cough- particularly irritable, these last few days. Thank you as well, sir.”

           The doctors’ face froze as the cogs in his brain clashed and overheated in an attempt to decipher what the proper reaction would be, before finally settling on a stuttering ‘T-thankyou, Harold-sama!’ and exiting with his tools after bowing. That kind of overzealous attitude reminded him of a certain pathetic, yet somehow prideful nobles’ coachman. It was as if the doctor unconsciously emanated an aura that made one unable to resist the urge to pick on him. It didn’t help that the man was a low-status doctor’s apprentice who had been assigned to Harold due to the shortage in personnel; he was undoubtedly inexperienced dealing with persons of high status, and made a fool of himself because of it. But Harold paid the low-class man no mind as he pushed his arms into the business coat that Norman held up for him. 

           I can see why Kishino hates these creepy blood tests, but I’d take that over this godforsaken fever any day...

          Even though he had just taken a warm bath and his temperature was a bit down, Harold still felt lethargic and uncomfortable in formal clothing. He and Tasuku had been scheduling their meetings around Hayden and Jessica’s whims, and today Harold had somehow managed to convince the two to head out on a full day trip due to some subtle prodding from their son. That meant that today was a big day, but Harold was already exhausted the moment he donned his expensive suit.

          It wasn’t as if he was homesick; Kishino’s anxiety was just so strong that it poured over to himself. He and Tasuku had already decided on the numbers and terms in the contract, but that bastard treated it as more of a suggestion than anything final. Plus, as they picked out the specific people, Kishino did his best to avoid anyone heavily associated with the Summeragi. This was made exponentially difficult, since practically no informed person wanted to move into the city without a good enough incentive. 

          Harold let out a chilled breath as he brought the cup down from his mouth. The alchemic drugs laced in the drink spread from his stomach to the tips of his fingers as it tried to activate and enhance specific regions of his weakened spirit. But despite their efforts, the only thing that actually worked nearly as well as intended was the anti-coughing medicine. Feeling the potion trying to do something and only half-succeeding made Harold shiver unconsciously, making his heart pound even faster than before. 

          At this rate, Lifa would be left with more than half of the sketchy temporary team provided by the Summeragi until he could return, and it was more than obvious that that was exactly what Tasuku was aiming for. And even though that man made it his life mission to make their goals as difficult and stressful as possible, there was nothing they could say to definitively call him out on it. Their only hope was that their pick for the personal attendant, the only one allowed to know Lifa’s true identity, turned out to be at least somewhat trustworthy.

          But honestly, if we keep riding his flow, what are the chances of that? With Tasuku stringing us along, the most we could possibly hope for is some shifty neutral party that charges high bribes. Tch, what a funny way to show gratitude for saving his citizens…

          There was admittedly one way to nearly guarantee Lifa’s safety, but just imagining it alone created a lump in Harold’s throat. Kishino might be able to do it, but…

          “...Harold-sama? Is there something wrong...?”

          “Hm? No- it’s nothing.”  

          Realizing that the boy was staring in his direction, Norman wondered if his tea was dissatisfactory, but Harold only brushed off his question and turned to gaze out the opened window. Something was obviously bothering the boy, but there were a plethora of different worries that it could be, and he had no right to coddle Harold after he’d failed to even notice his struggles for so long. It would also be incredibly dense for him to break his promise and overstep his professional boundaries while in the Summeragi mansion. Or at least, that’s what he’d been telling himself for the past week. Even so, being the man with the most in-depth understanding of the responsibilities and expectations weighing down on Harold’s small shoulders, Norman couldn’t help but wonder…

         If he continues down this path, how much longer would it be until he breaks? 

         Harold cleared his throat and shook his head before quickly gulping down the rest of the tea in one go. The child let out a deep breath, and shook himself before standing up and walking over to the window, where he absentmindedly paced in place. That was a tick that Norman had been noticing in Harold with increasing concern. Due to the nature of the Withering, his symptoms could hardly be soothed by such normal alchemic medicine, so maybe the fervent hyperactivity was some rare or unknown side effect of the potion when exposed to the disease? Though he had shown bouncing or rocking before, it was now noticeably increased. Following his earlier train of thought, Norman wondered just how in the world Harold had come up with such a potentially groundbreaking medicine in secret, within just a couple of years at the very most. 

         Harold-sama… How much of what you’ve shown us was an act, and how much of it was true? Is this related to your mysterious illness? I’ve questioned the guards, servants, and tutors, but none of them have observed anything substantial beyond what I’d already known. How have you avoided all of our eyes for so long, and just what have you been doing in all that time? 

         To the delight of his parents, Harold had always displayed an exceptional sense for combat and a prodigious talent in war studies, to the point of calling him a genius in those areas. They had never trained him as thoroughly as Carmen, but the child was enthusiastic enough to at least maintain his skill at a consistent level far above average. He was also a skilled artist, and occasionally showed high proficiency in a variety of subjects. But even then, the sheer level of talent that he had finally revealed to Norman just a month earlier was impossible to explain with just labeling him a genius; it wouldn’t be inaccurate to describe Harold as nearly inhuman.

         “...Harold-sama, please sit back down and rest. We still have some time before the meeting.”

         “Shut up! You… Argh, fine!”

         Harold paced back to his desk before forcefully yanked the chair out, and sat on its side while bouncing his foot. Troubled by the sudden outburst, Norman struggled with the question of whether he should give Harold advice, or if his mood would interpret such words as condescending and just make him more angry. But before he could come to a decision, the child spoke up again.

         “Sorry. I raised my voice.” 

         “Ah, that is alright, Harold-sama. I understand it is a very stressful situation. Perhaps if you can focus on the sounds of the rushing water and chirping birds, it might calm your nerves?”       

         “...I’ll try.”

         The young noble crossed his legs and adjusted to face the window again to meditate, not noticing the loving smile directed at his back. Norman truly never learned; even after a full month of interacting with Harold’s true self, he still thought to treat him like his parents, who would blow up at the slightest insult to their pride. And yet despite all of his talent and patience, Norman knew that behind that excellence and courage lay a fragile, ten year old child who felt scared and alone. The way he was now, Harold was unable to take on the full extent of his own ambitions head on. But Norman had no intention of letting him suffer alone.

         “...Norman.” 

         “Yes, Harold-sama?”

         “You…” 

         Turning his face to speak to Norman, Kishino stiffened as he forced himself to make eye contact. Neither Harold nor Kishino knew what they wanted to say. All of the possible words crowded in their throat, and tripped over each other in their attempts to all surface at once. Moments like this, where both of their emotions were being felt at the same time, weren’t uncommon. 

         The seconds ticked by as their mouth formed unfinished words and their heart pounded with the urge to hide and forget they’d ever said anything. Just as Kishio considered giving up and rattling off an obvious excuse, he stumbled upon a wording that was just barely impersonal enough to avoid embarrassment. 

         “In these...In these times of uncertainty, you have more than proven to be consistent and reliable to me. I will make certain that your efforts are compensated in full.”

         A wide smile bloomed on Norman’s face in response, and Kishino just couldn’t take it anymore. He quickly turned ninety degrees to the side and brought his knees up like a shield, before turning his head as far away from the man as possible and pressing his chin into his arms. This pose was a defense mechanism that Kishino’d come to know all too well, though he still couldn’t fully understand it. The trash-translator was the only reason Harold’s and his words came across at all and weren’t softly mumbled, saving him from the mortifying experience of having to repeat the already embarrassing words shared by the two of them. Though those that knew him might be surprised, Kishino was never great at the social game, let alone making close friends. Other than his parents occasionally, he had practically zero experience in opening his heart to others.

         “Thank you, Harold-sama! Please allow me to take care of you from now on as well.” 

         “Hmph, I’m not planning on letting you retire any time soon.”

         “My, just what have I done in my past life to deserve such a slave-driving employer?”

         “You speak as if you can’t handle it.”

         Kishino froze as Norman’s soft laughter overlapped with the singing wildlife, and his breath caught in his throat. It wasn’t like they’d tested it, but... if this world truly ran on game-logic, like it sometimes did in manga or light novels with a premise like this, then wouldn’t that mean he had just raised a major flag for Norman!? His embarrassment was gone like a popped balloon, and suddenly Kishino could feel his heart thumping in his chest with a sharp clarity. No, no, Lifa came to the city early right? And there are a lot of inconsistencies between the game and this world, so surely flags don’t exist, right?

         Kishino felt a pressure on his temples as his chest constricted painfully with each wave of negative self thoughts. Lifa was about to be turned away by the guard so what if that had happened in Brave Hearts and was just never acknowledged? And what if now that Kishino tried to change things, the world was about to shift fate to make something similar happen again, but in a much more catastrophic way? And Norman would be involved in that somehow, and it would be all his fault for being so goddamn impulsive...! All of these thoughts were realized wordlessly and simultaneously inside Kishino’s brain within just a few seconds, mixing and combining into a branching train of thought only he could comprehend.

         “...Harold-sama. You did a very brave thing. I am proud of you.”

         “...” 

         Norman placed his hand on his head, and it took almost a full second for Kishino to process his words. 

        Ah, he means how embarrassed I looked. Thank you for acknowledging my effort, but now I want to curl up in a hole…! 

        Using the mixed feelings as an opportunity to snap out of the spiral, he breathed out into his arms and tried to relax his body. It was made somehow easier with Norman’s hand fixing and brushing his hair. That’s right, now was not the time to spiral into a vortex of self doubt. What would happen, would happen, and he just had to try his best. He was probably getting irrational from stress too.

         It would be fine. This was only a meeting with the Summeragi, not a gritty battlefield where Norman could sacrifice himself by jumping into an enemy spell or anything. With that thought, Kishino let out another long breath as he tried to dismiss the thought that he’d just raised another, entirely different flag. That’s right, he’d be fine. Norman will be fine. 

         “Well Harold-sama, after you have finished negotiating with Tasuku-sama, there will be no immediately challenging tasks that require your attention for quite some time. I think after all of this, we’ll have both earned well deserved breaks.” 

          “You’re correct, it would be optimal to rest the last of this bothersome plague away before I continue, too. I wouldn’t want to be making any complicated plans with a spoiled mood, after all.”

          Norman breathed a silent breath of relief as an invisible weight seemed to lift from his shoulders. Harold just now was so adorable that his hand had moved before he could think, suddenly crossing the invisible barrier that had been so formidable for the past month. But the young noble didn’t move or say anything in reparation. Whether or not he had the right to try and make up for all those years of lost time, Norman no longer cared; it occurred to him while brushing Harold’s hair with his fingers, that keeping the distance and ignoring the child’s struggles even when he reached out first would be nothing but meaningless, hypocritical pride. After all, he had promised to himself that while Harold fought to make his dreams a reality, Norman would be there to take care of his heart.           

          ...Even after the fall of the Stokes house, I will continue to support you with every step. Isn’t that what I said to myself? 

          Norman smiled as he awkwardly knelt down to Harold’s level and continued brushing his hair. He’d acted before thinking, but Norman had no experience in anything like this, and felt uncertain as to whether he was doing it right.

          Well, I suppose that now is as good a time as any to start.

          ***

         Two pairs of silent footsteps echoed down the endless wooden corridors. The monotony was broken only by the occasional twists, turns, or staircases that seemed to lead to nowhere in particular. Kiryuu, the head butler of the Sumeragi, led Kishino through the empty halls and towering flights of stairs with only the rare working servant lifelessly bowing to the pair as they passed by. At first Kishino found this puzzling and suspicious, but he remembered that they were in the middle of an inexplicable and incurable epidemic and brushed it off. That was why he was here. To help them all.

         -Yeah I’ll help them alright. As long as it’s convenient for me…  

         -Oi. Drawing the line somewhere was inevitable. Don’t you go undermining our hard work now.

         -Ha, you’re right. I know it’s unreasonable to blame myself, but I just can’t help but worry over these things. 

         Kishino shook the thought aside as he tried to go over this meeting’s goals one more time. But instead of keeping him focused, thinking about the impending negotiation only multiplied his stress exponentially. 

         -Phew, it’s ok, it’ll be fine. I already have the contract so he can’t do much. The pool of candidates has been narrowed down, so I’ll just pick out the ones we want and work out how we’ll hire and organize them, then watch out for any suggestions that might be traps. 

         -That’s right. It is actually easier compared to the past meetings; you’re only stressed because it’s the last one.

         Harold wasn’t wrong, but calming down was easier said than done. Knowing Tasuku, there’d be three tangents within the first hour trying to bend the terms they’d already put up, followed by arguments droning on about who had more blackmail potential over the other, derailing the whole thing to be ten times longer than it should be. Not to mention the attempts to pry into his secrets every five seconds. 

         Kishino paused and inhaled slowly. His breathing was becoming labored despite his attempts to hide it, and his legs threatened to give out as he pushed to keep up with the butler’s long legs ascending flight after flight of stairs. Tasuku had ‘conveniently’ located their meeting in a different office today, and it was ‘just a few floors higher’ than his normal office. The man had been getting more brazen and obvious with each meeting, no doubt trying to provoke a reaction from him for some reason or other.

         “Harold-sama, are you alright? Can you keep going?” 

         “...No, I cannot. Carry me there.”

         There was a look of surprise on Kiryu’s face for only a split second before it was professionally masked. Kishino had reasoned in his head that Tasuku wanted him to act on his pride, and that look from Kiryu all but confirmed it. Fierce indignation from Harold leaked out into Kishino’s own emotions, and his blood boiled at the thought of submitting to the enemy. But even so, Kishino would rather not break out into a hundred degree fever before even starting the meeting. Ideally he would just report Tasuku’s shadiness to his father or go to court, but being a smallish noble’s son with no tangible connections while also trying to manage a couple dozen secrets really swept a lot of those options off the table.

         “I apologize for my inconsideration. I had assumed you had a strong astral body, but I suppose the Withering is faster than I’d thought.” 

         “I suppose it is.” 

         Kishino couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the obvious goading. Did Kiryu think he was a little kid or something? Not taking the bait, he reached his arms up as the butler lifted him into a princess carry. 

         -That insolent little…! 

         -Not asking for help would be exactly what they want.

         -He is treating us like idiots!

         -Well, we kind of are a kid, aren’t we? Oh, huh, that’s a grammar challenge if I’ve ever seen one. 

         -Hmph! Those bastards can underestimate us all they want; it only makes it easier for us.

         Not being able to hide his grin at Harold’s brattiness, Kishino turned his head away from the butler. If Kiryuu noticed anything, he didn’t say it.

         -Yeah, this body definitely has its perks-Wait, hold on, how the hell is our brain adapting to all this shit!? A whole new life’s worth of memories would require a lot of energy to store, not to mention older brains are more developed. I am different from the original Kishino, but is it enough to warrant being inside a foreign brain? There’s our magic ‘spirit’ too though, so who knows. 

         -You’ve asked those same questions so many times that I’m surprised you don’t dream about it.

         -Is it seriously that many…!?

         The pair tried to distract themselves as they continued on through the traditionally styled halls, but the early summer heat burrowing deep into their skin and settling in the layers of their fancy clothing were impossible to ignore. Coupled on top of their fever, the dry warmth wrapped around them like a suffocating, inescapable blanket. The insulating wards were powered down for spring time to save energy, especially in the upper halls with scarcer personnel, and that allowed the heat to creep its way through the mansion’s walls in the transition between seasons. 

          The steady rhythm of indoor shoes and creaking floorboards continued until they entered an area of the building that was guarded with heavy security wards that Harold didn’t even notice until Kiryu put him down, and walked over to a small dragon statue next to the stairs and placed his bronze ring in front of its right eye. No doubt there was a ‘key signature’ engraved in that ring. The wards must have been hidden on purpose, since usually he could feel that they were there like some kind of impression in the fabric of space itself. 

          No visible change occurred, and Kishino only raised his arms as he was lifted into a princess carry yet again before they continued. The butler had asked if he was capable of walking the rest of the way, but whereas Harold hesitated, Kishino immediately brushed him off and simply enjoyed the free ride. Even so, he was starting to get sweaty from their combined body heat on top of the dry heat wave. As if mirroring his growing discomfort, the endless corridors were no longer accompanied by depressed servants, and now radiated a lifeless atmosphere that reminded Kishino of the many times he had stayed behind for clubwork after school. The normally bustling hallways were removed of human presence and were transformed into oppressive and eerie corridors, coated with slight hints of a somehow tempting loneliness.

          After what seemed like an eternity in the boiling halls, Kiryu's footsteps finally led Kishino to a single paper door. It was an ordinary paper door, and yet the presence it exerted was magnitudes greater than any other. Kiryu looked down and gave a nod before setting Kishino down. Now standing on his own two feet, the option to run away suddenly burst into his mind. He could use his full power and run back the way he came, fake passing out from the heat, or even claim that his fever felt too bad today and that he should go back. But Kishino also knew that there was no point in worrying, and that the meeting likely wasn’t nearly as big a deal as he thought. It’d be just like the other times, and he’d gotten through those well enough. Norman’s flag resurfaced in his mind, but he only pushed it back down and dismissed it as irrational.

          The only difference was that this final meeting had been put off for some days now, and he had partially contracted the Withering. Sure, he was about to gamble away the fates of the Summeragi citizens, their own secrets, and possibly the fate of the whole world, and dealing with Tasuku was scary and he had to be on guard at all times, and Kishino was coming down from a fever and lacked sleep, and…-

           -Jeez, stop stalling. Kiryu is just standing by and watching us piss ourselves; this is exactly what they want! Didn’t people in your world always tell you to rip off the band-aid!?

           -Right. You’re right. It’s time to put my impulsiveness to use!

           Moving too fast for the indecision to stop him, Kishino gripped his fist and looked up into Kiryu’s eyes with a determined gaze. Kiryu’s black eyes stared down into the child's red ones without expressing any particular emotion. Though he didn’t show it, the head butler was highly impressed with the young noble’s backbone. He didn’t know a lot about him, and the young noble was a representative of a large unknown threat to the Summeragi, regardless of his own intentions. But the weight of the responsibility he was undertaking at such a young age was undoubtedly a testament to his unflinching determination. Whether that blazing heart had been ignited from the embers of bravery or the cinders of foolishness, only time could tell. 

         “...Tasuku-sama. Harold Stokes has arrived.” 

         “Thank you. Please, come in.”

         An invisible pressure gripped Kishino’s temples as Kiryu knocked twice on the door, and Tasuku’s voice rang out from inside the room. The dread induced from that voice alone struck Kishino like a chilling shockwave, as if a dark hole had opened up in his chest and spread out to his fingertips. A last minute warning siren blared in his brain, but it was too already late. 

         Kiryu reached over to the door handle and held his ring next to it for three century-long seconds as Kishino tried to convince himself that it was like his homework, and that the dread was ten times worse than the actual assignment,  

         -Just rip off the bandaid. Rip off the bandaid. 

         -Hah, who knew the younger of us would have been better at handling stress. It might be my leftover narcissism, but seeing you struggle for once actually makes me feel better about myself. Don’t worry, this is the last stretch!

         -Mhm.

         Kishino was only half-listening, his eyes tracing the magic affixed to the sliding door. Unlike before, Kishino could see the wards; now that he knew more about them, it was easy to see that they were only dormant spells waiting for certain triggers to activate. The ring acted like bait, catching the spell’s attention and activating its man-made instincts as power surged through the mana circuitry, which ran through the entire building like veins and arteries. In an instant, Kishino was ensnared. The invisible lock holding the door shifted, and a click could be heard as the secondary physical lock opened in tandem. All other routes were sealed off, and all that was left was to plow forward.

         But as Kishino armed himself with a mask of polite optimism, and mustered the courage to step inside, the sliding door opened wide to reveal a catastrophe beyond neither Kishino nor Harold’s most horrible nightmares. Shaken to the core, the mask slipped entirely off their face and revealed their genuine shock. That was because sitting in a chair across from Tasuku turning around to face them were two towering giants. One of them was a large man with a face red to the bursting with a boiling rage, and the other was a woman frozen over with fury. They were the two human souls that should have never been present at that meeting in any circumstances…

         “...Mother!? Father!? W-what are you doing here…!?”