Salvation of the Scum Fifth Prince

Chapter 79: [76 – hello; little fool]


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In the dead night, the shadows woke. Creeping at the edges, lurking and listening. For those scared of the dark, it was what was hidden within that they feared most.

Soren wasn't scared of the dark.

No, he was scared of the filth that stained the corners, of the hands that would stretch out towards him in the unknown dark. He was scared that if he reached out, nobody would be there and that he'd come to the fundamental fact that he was, once again, alone.

But the flicker of a smile remained on his lips as the darkness wrapped around his arm.

This 'Raphael' stared at him quietly, with solemn disdain that contained not a single spark of care. 

In reality, it made Soren feel strange, as if there was a wall that didn't exist before. This was not the Raphael he knew, but at the same time, it was likely that it was a side of him that Soren had never seen.

Thinking that, he didn't hesitate to stretch out his hand.

And as he did, the pitch colour surged past his arms and wrapped around his neck violently, pushing him back onto the bed. The figure flowed with the movement, soon leaning over him as Soren gasped for air. 

Tears crept into the corner of his eyes from the sheer struggle, but in fact, his eyes were calm despite the pain that covered the icy glare. 

Was this the truth?

How badly Raphael despised him, to the point of committing murder?

Were these the secrets that would ruin Soren entirely?

That this entire time, the love Raphael had felt was false, and when his old memories returned, only hatred and disgust would remain?

The negative thoughts gradually made the light in his eyes dim and his arms grew limper, ceasing any protest against the hands that wrapped around his throat. 

....was this why the memories were dangerous?

Because the truth was that in fact, he really couldn't be loved?

'Little fool, what stupid things are you imagining now?'

Soren froze, eyes wide and surprised as a stream of warm embraced his mind in old memories that were not pure hatred, but only care and happiness.

'Hey, hey. Any more negativity for the day, and I'll hit you, okay? I'll knock some sense into you — that you are most undoubtedly loved, Ren Suzuki.'

He kicked his legs up at the shadow, who had flinched at the sudden retaliation, tugging violently at the hands as he coughed.

'Trust me, Ren.'

"You are..." groaned Soren faintly as he stared straight at the obsidian eyes before him. His voice trailed off as he steadied his mind. 

"Not him."

Because the Raphael he knew may have hated him at one point, and perhaps he had committed a sin deserving of the protagonist's despise, but that hero wouldn't murder so easily. That hero wouldn't hate so easily.

Not the Raphael who spent lifetimes chasing memories of Ren to the point he went crazy.

Not the Raphael who had saved him over and over again.

And certainly not the Raphael who had genuinely told Soren of his love. 

There was a burst of white light that filled the room to the brim, stretching to the smallest grooves and gaps and covering everything entirely. 

The Raphael before him dispersed with the light that dyed its entire body in radiance, the soulless black eyes the last thing Soren saw before everything disappeared. Its hand lingered over the throat, but it was a gentle caress instead of a vengeful grasp. 

Then, as fingers brushed against his cheek, the brightness clouded over his vision once more.

---xxx---

It had been after he lost everybody.

Under the gloomy downpours of rain that promised to wash away sorrows, but could not clean the despair in the depths of one heart.

A single man sat atop the broken building ruins, watching as the crimson washed away with the violent patter flowing to a place he couldn't see. If only, he thought, it were that simple to wash away memories.

His head was lowered, strands of black clinging to his face desperately as his dark eyes remained silent. There was a strange calmness surrounding him, tinted with faint sorrow and self loathing which pulsed in steady beats.

The handsome profile revealed a blank look, so empty that he seemed to be dead.

But Ren Suzuki was alive.

Unfortunately so.

The rain grew heavier and heavier, slamming into his weakening body, but he did not care. He sat with his slender joints wrapped tightly around a blade, waiting.

Waiting for something to move him.

He didn't understand.

Of that large, cheerful group of his teammates, how could somebody like him be the only one left standing? When he had the least desire to live out of them all, when they deserved so much more than death.

Did they resent him, curse him in their afterlife?

Did they regret inviting him, knowing they'd end up saving his life in the end?

Ren didn't know, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to. It would be the best if they hated him, sentencing him to an early death.

Because now... now he wasn't sure what to do or where to go.

He had always been a quiet, reserved person, lazily doing things as he pleased. In a way, he was like a child who never learned how to grow up — perhaps that was why that group had taken pity on him.

"What are you doing?" asked a low, magnetic voice echoing in the air.

Ren didn't answer, his ears deaf, mind blank.

"Can you hear me?" the other asked again patiently, though their tone was rough. 

Silence.

The man looked around and sighed, walking up the ruins with surprising ease, as if it were a straight platform and not a stack of broken chunks.

He stood in front of the lonely man and asked once again, "What are you doing?"

Ren's eyes flickered as he saw a pair of black-clad shoes appear in his vision, raising his eyes lightly. He stared blankly at the other through his lashes, water running down his expressionless face.

The man wondered if he had cried, silently in this rain where nobody could see. In this rain, all alone, drowning in his sorrows.

He opened his mouth to ask again, but instead received a question.

"What are you doing?" asked Ren absentmindedly, blinking up at the other as his whole being looked tired and faint.

"I'm looking for survivors."

Ren's finger twitched. It was only after some time that he said chillingly, "I am the only survivor."

The words seemed to vibrate in the air, a deathly silence following. Ren didn't remove his gaze, and the man didn't look away either.

He stood in the drowning rain, looking at the other with a complicated gaze. This person was quiet, voice cold and indifferent, but his eyes revealed his sadness, his longing and his confusion.

They were full of blame, full of hatred.

All directed towards himself.

The man said, "What is your name?"

Ren lowered his head.

And so, the man crouched down, looking up at the confused gaze of the other. He stretched out a hand in greeting, a hand covered in scars and wounds from battle.

He asked again, "What is your name?"

"Doesn't matter." replied Ren blankly.

"I want to know."

"No."

The man's eye twitched. It was tempting to directly beat up this stubborn man and then help him, but he didn't feel like doing it.

Maybe it was because he thought the man would just silently take the beatings. And that completely ruined the point.

He sighed and said, "If you tell me your name, I'll help you bury your friends."

Ren shook his head, droplets of water flying with the shake. "They're not my friends."

"Then, family?"

"No."

"...comrades?"

"No."

"Then?"

"Strangers." said Ren as he closed his eyes calmly. "Strangers unlucky enough to wind up around me."

The man frowned. "Don't be so arrogant. People are dying every day. You think they're so weak that a single person can wipe out so many?"

"Yes." Ren agreed. "They're so weak that I can easily kill them."

"....."

The man was almost at the edge of his patience, smiling a smile that wasn't quite a smile as he took a deep breath. How many times had he sighed in the past, what, five minutes?

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"Alright. My name's Raphael Han, got it? Are you so depressed that you can't talk to me anymore?"

"Aren't you the one persistently bothering a depressed person?" asked Ren as he blinked away the gathering drops of water.

Raphael resisted the urge to punch him, but who would've thought that this person would say,

"You want to beat me up, don't you?"

Ren's eyes lit up slightly. "You're strong, right? Okay, let's fight."

Raphael was struck speechless again.

'Are you a freaking masochist?!'

"I don't have that sort of hobby." he joked half-heartedly, wanting to see the other's expression collapse and flush.

Ren just looked at him strangely. "I don't either. Why did you have to make it so dirty?"

"......ah, you're so great." Raphael sighed with an annoyed smile. "Really great. I should've just left you alone."

Ren nodded. "You should've."

Honestly, Ren wasn't happy with being disturbed, either. He was fine, thinking about random thoughts and drifting off into his own world. Who would've thought that somebody would decide to bother him?

If Raphael knew his thoughts, he would've punched him.

Raphael chuckled and asked, "Who do you think you are?"

However, the answer the was spoken so confidently and calmly was not what he had expected.

"A monster." said Ren without hesitation.

Raphael's expression suddenly froze, and he knitted his brows together. "Under what qualifications can you call a fragile looking person like you, a monster?"

Honestly, Ren's appearance was incredibly attractive, looking vulnerable with the distant sadness in his eyes, but he had toned muscles, and a sturdy figure, no doubt honed after many battles.

Most likely, they’d be on even ground if they battled.

But Raphael didn't care.

Ren didn't either and asked, "Will you kill me if I tell you?"

Raphael raised his brows. "If you're so eagerly seek death, then sure."

"Okay." Ren stood up unexpectedly, wiping the water out of his face. "The answer is, if you kill me, you'll know."

"Is this a joke?"

"No." then Ren added, "I'm not a liar."

"......haha, great."

"Come on." Ren frowned. "Hurry up. If you're too weak, it's fine. Just give it your best shot."

This sort of half-assed encouragement only served to piss the other off further. Who exactly was too weak?? Raphael? 

"Can I ask why first?"

"I like the thrill." Ren responded quickly. "I like the thrill of being alive during battles."

Although he really did want to die.

It was just that, if he had to live, then he didn't just want to survive. He hated that more than anything, the feeling of tiredly going on day by day.

Raphael laughed. "Little fool."

Ren frowned again. "Hurry up."

This time, Raphael wasn't so courteous. He jumped back, pulling his sword as he raised it at Ren, his abyssal eyes darkening like a hunter searching for his prey. Then he lunged.

His movements were skilled and smooth, accurate to a fault. There was no hesitation in his swing, his powerful muscles giving him an extra boost.

It came crashing down.

But Ren didn't dodge.

Raphael's eyes widened in surprise, but he couldn't stop midway and instead hastily adjusted his grip, and the sword tore through tender flesh like dough, leaving a deep gash as blood dripped onto the stone.

He tumbled, using his back leg as a brace before looking up and scowling. "Are you crazy?!"

"You didn't kill me."

"You didn't dodge!" Raphael snapped, gaze murderous. "What idiot doesn't dodge? Didn't you want a serious fight?"

Ren nodded. "I did. But I said I'd show you my ability first."

All survivors had an ability, but they varied greatly. Raphael had been called many things because of his power and skills, but Ren seemed different.

Like 'monster' was the only thing he knew.

Raphael sneered. "And I need to kill you to find out?"

"Yeah."

"......ridiculous."

Ren walked forward calmly, gripping the blade. "Just stab right through my heart."

Raphael snatched the blade away. "Don't be ridiculous. If you have a death wish, then don't come to me about it."

"...I don't like doing it myself." Ren muttered in a daze under Raphael's heated glare. Finally, Ren sighed and seized the sword where he had been sitting earlier.

"You—!" Raphael lunged forward and forcibly tore the sword out of this suicidal fool's grasp, scowling deeply as he huffed. 

He rubbed his temples in exasperation. He had seen a lot of death — there wasn't a single person who hadn't — but this sort of maneuver was really quite special. Thus, he didn't feel extremely sad, but more confused.

He looked down at the man in his arms with a complicated look.

Ren stared back, irritatingly indifferent.

"What is wrong with you, seriously?" said Raphael in frustration, as if wondering why he couldn't walk away at this moment. Yet staring into the calm, blinking raven eyes that held no remorse, Raphael wanted to give this fool a beating.

Ren said, "I can't die."

Raphael still scowled. "Don't speak nonsense and mess around with your life like that."

"Would you have believed me? That I wouldn't die no matter what?"

"What do you think?"

"You wouldn't." Then he added, "Because you don't trust me enough."

"You're right. I don't believe you, not in the slightest."

Raphael smiled neatly and then dropped the other with a loud thud. A frown immediately formed on Ren’s lips as he hissed, a dull pain running along his back, but slowly stood up.

"You're quite rude."

Raphael laughed mockingly. "Coming from you?"

"When have I ever been rude?" Ren asked in surprise. "You bothered me first."

"Isn't it your fault for radiating 'I'm sad' vibes in the middle of a battlefield? The fight that occurred here was at least a level seven. I just planned to go rescue a cute, gloomy little fool."

One to ten. That was how they rated the dangers of battles. Only, by the time they could know, it would already be too late. The sacrifices who had first witnessed the battle couldn’t be brought back.

Although Raphael thought dazedly, that if a method existed, even if it cost his blood and soul, this person in front of him would try it.

"They managed to win though..." Ren squinted at the other. "Wait, I'm not a fool. I'm not cute either."

Raphael raised a brow and grinned. "I think those two words suit you very well."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Mmm."

Ren looked a little annoyed for once, gazing at him coldly. "At least I'm not a perverted bastard."

"??"

"....."

"Excuse me? You're so childish, you know? What did I even say anything that could warrant such an insult?"

"So dirty-minded." Ren spat, his mood low after being bothered, then trying to kill himself after being refused, only to be stopped again. To add to it, he hadn't even been given the fight that he was promised.

Though it had distracted him from his gloomy thoughts. He considered that, and calmly walked away, leaving Raphael alone in the rain, not even bothering to turn back.

He didn't really want to meet that person again.

Likewise, Raphael thought, as he stared after the disappearing back, 'I'd be unlucky to cross such an ungrateful fool again.'

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