Salvation of the Scum Fifth Prince

He was back in this place, again. Soren felt hazy, like a cloth had been draped over his entire being, snuffling out noises and keeping him blind from the world. Yet in some strange way, this suffocating space was almost comfort

No need to think, care, breathe. There was no need to do anything except allow his mind to wander.

A part of him was aware that this illusion was one he wasn't meant to accept, but to break free of. The Forest of Good and Evil. Once judgment came, you would be allowed to leave.

But his judgment, unknowingly, had been one that trapped him in here.

It was easy to act however he pleased when they weren't forcing him to face his thoughts, but when picking at his innermost thoughts, it quickly revealed his simmering self-hatred.

He didn’t deem himself worthy.

Not in the slightest.

He curled up more tightly as a glimmer of light shone before him. Icy eyes, mixed with swirls of quiet raven, peeked open.

In the darkness, scenes played out in front of him as if it were a movie.

The strange thing was, it was as if every action that he watched himself do in the movie directly reflected on him. It was as if he were there, in the shimmering mirage of film, but also not there, under weighted cloth that restrained him.

There were many scenes of his past, after Raphael entered his life. Not their first meeting, or their last, but the many in betweens.

He decided, blurrily, that there was a disconnect in his memories. Raphael undoubtedly existed — but not in the apocalypse he had known. It was as if his memories had two parallels, one of an apocalypse without Raphael and the other with.

Not that it really mattered, when both memories would belong to him regardless.

There were two halves of the screen playing simultaneously, and it made his mind spin in dizziness. Like he was in two places at once, being stretched and pulled forcefully.

The original’s life had been full of debauchery, and only watching it in person did Soren understand that.

It had started from a simple child who craved his brothers’ love.

It started with the closed doors, the glances away and the silence that greeted him. It started with the mocking jeers of the servant, the missed meals and the clamoring voices.

At some point, however, the servants who insulted him were carefully replaced — the others gone who knew where.

And then, the original began to change from a sweet, helpless child, to a rebellious and arrogant prince. In order to not be jeered at again, he filled his mouth with his terrible insults and awful confidence.

In order to not be ignored, he acted in such flamboyant ways that one could not ignore him, even if they wanted to.

The original had changed everything he was, for the sake of lacking love that he never received to the very end.

That was the simple, yet complicated story of Soren Rosenbaum, a side character who’d only been briefly mentioned in the original novel. Yet he was a main character in his own right, a whole tale simply unknown.

The air suddenly stilled, and static flew across the mirage in a violent shake.

Images twisted and turned, morphing into random shapes and colours as Soren watched more carefully.

On the left, a particular person was kneeling on the ground over what seemed to be his dead body, brows furrowed tightly as they gritted their jaw so tight, the veins along their neck could be made out.

Shaky hands grasped onto a lifeless, pale hand. Pleading. Begging.

A sight even the original couldn't have imagined in his countless delusions.

“I am sorry.”

It seemed to echo all around him, and something in his heart lurched. The words continued to drum soundlessly, and Soren almost looked away. But the pressure forced on his back forced him to watch every expression on that usually expressionless man’s face.

“Please wake up…”

He sucked in a breath, feeling the tugs of the original grasping for those words. Hesitant, stretching out but then stopping as if the original believed this too was just another delusion of his.

“...little brother.”

‘Stop.’ said Soren to the clamouring voice buried in the back of his mind. ‘Even if that stupid brother of yours had a reason, the emotional effect on you is obvious. It’s too late.’

For the first time ever, the voice replied back.

‘...I already gave up. But to the end, I never truly despised my brothers.’

There was a melancholic sadness melted in the words, written out in Soren’s mind as he blinked in surprise. The voice — the original — continued to speak, as if baring his heart out on a platter, speaking all the words he couldn’t before.

‘Ren Suzuki, thank you. For everything you have done, and will do in the future. I had some grievances, but I think they’ll start to fade soon.’

Soren paused. The original had always existed somewhere in his mind, like a faint presence that was almost calming at times. Though it brought unwanted emotional side effects. However, this seemed to only be a fragment of the original, still caught in regrets and unable to move on.

‘You are… disappearing.’

He said it as if it were a fact. There was silence, for a moment, before a new reply came.

‘It’s not quite disappearing. I have a clear mind now, in the past, I really went crazy and did many horrible things. I’m aware of that. I’m not disappearing, it is… merging?’

‘Merging?’

‘There is a part of me that has already disappeared, my soul scattered across the skies to meet whatever adventure awaits. But there’s a part, my current existence, that will combine with yours. It’s a little complicated, and I’m unable to tell you everything.’

There was a politeness in the tone that Soren found strange compared to the memories and knowledge he had in the original. But maybe it was after death, after desperate hopes in life stopped mattering, that one could regain their true self.

The self that wasn’t influenced by external factors, not driven mad out of loneliness.

‘But your mother, Ren. Our mother, I mean. Look for her story, look for her secrets. They tell a tale closely related to you, and perhaps you’ll find many things with it. My second brother, Deimos, had a close relationship with her.’

The voice trailed off in remembrance, coated in summertime longings that had already faded. For his entire life, the original had chased his brothers.

It was only in his death that he could let go.

‘You and I… are the same, Ren. The emotions you feel may be mine, but they are also traces of yours that awakened from my memories. You do not need to reconcile with my brothers, but do not deny yourself of what you feel.’

Soren swallowed, eyes flickering between endless darkness and the mirage of Vincent displayed in front of him.

‘I would not do such a thing.’

A light laugh, relaxed and utterly free. ‘Good luck. And thank you. Truly, I wish you all the best in life, Ren Suzuki.’

Then it cut off, as if Soren had imagined the entire conversation. He probed his mind, but no response came. This was his first and his last meeting with the original.

“Ren.”

A low voice dominated through any possible thought, filling the space around. Soren’s eyes snapped to the screen, wide and unmoving.

On the right side of the mirage, a particular person stared right at him.

Their stance was straight and tall, walking through as if it were not a dangerous forest but a home they’d molded to fit them, their black-clad clothing somewhat bright even in the dim light that followed their footsteps.

As if they knew Soren was there, their midnight eyes curved and a smile — somewhat fleeting, and all so caring — played at their lips.

“Ren Suzki, I know you are watching.” determined the voice, rumbling in the air.

“You can see me, and you will listen.” continued that protagonist, arrogant as he always was. “You can break free of this mirage on your own, I believe in your strength.”

“However, until you understand that yourself,”

They stretched out a hand to the skies, waiting. The smile never left their lips, and Soren felt as if he’d drown in the emotion radiating from the illusion.

“I will stay by your side.”

 

— — — xxx— — —

 

“What are you doing?” asked Raphael to the illusion that stood before him, standing on the windy cliffs of an unknown place.

The illusion’s raven hair blew in the wind with gentle strides, contrasting their chilling eyes that stared off into the distance. Almost as if they were seeing something no other could see, lost in their very own existence.

While Raphael was on that same pathway he had seen last time, he felt a gaze staring at him. It didn’t matter if it was simply his imagination, but he decided to stare into the skies and speak.

For the little hope that a certain fool would hear him.

Then the past had twisted and transformed, fading into this scene as he walked. It was both familiar and unfamiliar.

The man before him tilted his head back, gaze boring into Raphael. There was something different — it lacked the clumsiness of the Ren he had grown to know, covered in mature calmness that was both melancholic and lonely.

At times, those raven eyes would flicker with an icy blue.

There was a light, regretful laugh. “So you’ve found me.”

“I promised.”

Silence, before another response slowly came. “You did.”

A dark cloak covered their figure, frayed ends seeming to connect to nothing as they billowed in the wind. Almost as if his cloak were made of the night sky, blending with the world.

Raphael stepped forward, his expression changing. This illusion in front of him — most likely one of the many sides of Ren — was not one he knew. This one seemed to have lived many years, carrying a burden that couldn’t be understood.

“...you’re not Ren.” said Raphael slowly before correcting himself. “You’re not the one I know.”

There was a faint smile on those pale lips. “Yeah.”

“Then what part are you?”

“What?”

“I plan to understand every side of the person known as Ren Suzuki. So if I don’t know you, then I only have to learn, right?”

The raven eyes blinked in surprise before curving vaguely, a shadow of laughter playing at their lips. “You never change.”

This side of Ren also spoke few words, thought Raphael as his eyes remained fixated to every expression. Although this part of Ren was quite different, it still carried a lingering aura that Raphael couldn’t help but be attracted to.

Something unique and exclusive to Ren Suzuki that was utterly endearing.

Raphael moved forward carefully at first, until he reached the person’s side. Whatever sight was reflected in those raven eyes, Raphael felt that he couldn’t understand it, yet.

Ren was the first to speak. “I’m… the person who erased the memories of you and I.”

The protagonist swallowed, calmly accepting the fact before asking, “Why?”

“You’ll remember even if I don’t say.”

“Hm, but I’m curious now.” Raphael grinned, glancing over at the other through those charming midnight gaze. “Come on, Ren. Tell me?”

The other didn’t budge, frowning. “Too impatient.”

“.....” There was the Ren he remembered. “You’re also the same, aren’t you?”

“Is that an insult?”

Raphael chuckled helplessly. “Well, it depends. You’re utterly infuriating, but I find that pretty endearing of you.”

Ren paused, but unlike the version of this emotionally-stunted idiot he had seen last time, this version didn’t pull away in confusion, or stare as if wondering what sort of drugs Raphael was on.

“Tell me that again… the other me. The one who won’t believe you. When you leave this illusion.”

A self-aware version of Ren. One who seemed to know exactly where they were and what they were doing, only a fragment of the tormented reaper waiting to disappear.

“Tell me everything, because I won’t know unless you say it.” continued this self-aware Ren, staring straight at Raphael as if lost in a dream. “Please.”

Everything said in this mirage would be forgotten, and this Ren knew that well. But those careful words, the impossible care from another that he originally couldn't believe in, they needed to be heard aloud in order to be understood.

Raphael’s eyes met the other’s. “I’ll do that, then, Ren.”

Ren turned away again as he nodded. “Thanks.”

“Can’t you give me some sort of hint? How to find what that fool is looking for, why you hid away our memories, anything?” wondered Raphael hopefully. So long as all these questions remained unanswered, Soren would be unable to find peace.

And peace was something Raphael greatly hoped for Soren.

“...I hid away our memories for your own sake.”

“There’s no way that I’d agree to have them removed.” responded Raphael smoothly, without missing a beat as he frowned.

“When a person loses everything, they may go insane. I couldn’t watch you go mad.”

“I’ve never gone mad— “

Ren lowered his gaze. “And your memories should stay that way.”

Raphael's eyebrows furrowed. Although this version of Ren seemed to be mature, they were quite stubborn about one point -- and that was the fact that Raphael shouldn't remember the past. 

It was as if they were belittling themselves, hoping to keep away from Raphael's memories. 

“Little fool,” Raphael frowned and pulled Ren to face him properly, trying to make out every expression. “Forgetting everything would never have been my choice. Are you stupid?”

“.....”

“I’m serious.” continued Raphael, rather irritated at this point. “Most likely, you made the decision to erase my memories on your own, right? Because I couldn’t have agreed.”

The silence was practically confirmation in Raphael’s ears.

“Ren Suzuki, you unbelievable fool.”

Ren’s mature calmness cracked, and he tried to turn his head away only for Raphael to clasp both sides of his face, rough hands pressed against his jaw.

“I will not forget you again.”

It was an oath. One the protagonist intended to keep, even if everything collapsed because of it.

Dark tangles of wisp started to float from the tips of Ren’s fingers, and the man glanced down. He turned his gaze back to Raphael and frowned. “You’re stupid.”

“.....” Wasn’t this supposed to be a touching moment?

“But thank you, Raphael.”

And something seemed to change in those calm, raven eyes, as if they were silently saying goodbye. Raphael nodded and grinned brightly, “You’re welcome.”

Even if this illusion disappeared, the person Raphael wanted to save was a manifestation of all these parts. Clumsy and desperate, mature and foolish, and so much more that was yet to be seen.

The world crumbled away, until only particles remained floating in the air as the person in Raphael’s hands disappeared with one last fleeting smile. It dispersed back into the black space, but Raphael continued to stare in a daze at his now empty hands.

It would always be strange, watching Ren disappear from his hands like that. Far away into somewhere he couldn't reach. The protagonist slowly curled his fists, and took a deep breath.

Then, he started to walk.

Somewhere at the end of this darkness, he had a feeling he would find the foolish prince, the ridiculous reaper, that he had entered this place to search for.

The end of the mystery — one that no longer involved Soren alone— would be found soon.

And Raphael was prepared, for whatever truth awaited.