What It Hides
"Yes, thank you very much, Miss Rem," I respond with courtesy, which aims to conceal the lack of true friendship at this moment.
The situation requires that I maintain an attitude of respect, showing that I'm not easily intimidated, as she doesn't pose a direct threat. Her only option will be to get used to my presence.
Rem proceeds to show me every corner of the mansion: the kitchen, the living room, the courtyard, the meeting rooms, the study room, and Roswaal's chamber. We don't enter the last two spaces to avoid interrupting Roswaal and Emilia's routines.
Finally, we arrive at a room filled with guard attire, an impressive variety of garments in various styles. However, all of them seem heavy and uncomfortable to me at first glance.
"First, we'll change your attire to make you look more formal," Rem announces as she selects some clothing. Since I am a man, my only option is Roswaal's clothing, but he is notably taller than me, compared to my 1.77. Therefore, his clothes don't fit me properly.
Rem decides that for the moment, I should keep my current attire, and she will take care of altering the clothing to fit me properly.
"What tasks do you consider yourself useful for?" Rem asks me, her voice devoid of any emotion.
"I'm not good at cleaning; it's not exactly to my liking. However, I can take care of the plants, do the laundry, and cook. In the latter task, I consider myself quite competent."
Of course, I'll have to explore the possibilities this world offers. After all, if there's magic, it's likely there are devices similar to those from my time.
Rem reflects for a few seconds, evaluating the best way to put me to work. Finally, she seems to reach a decision.
"So, allow me to check. You'll prune and water the plants, take care of the laundry, but for now, you won't cook for others," she announces with no emotion as she walks away.
She probably doesn't want me to cook for others due to the lack of trust at this moment. I'll patiently wait and also research more about the events of this arc to figure out how to proceed.
The information on my cell phone is crucial right now.
Rem takes me to the courtyard and hands me pruning shears along with a blue crystal. I take the crystal, trying to understand its purpose, but I can't immediately figure it out.
"You'll use this crystal to water the plants. You need to channel your mana into it, and then it will release water accordingly," Rem explains, shedding light on its utility.
I gaze at the crystal with a mix of awe and admiration. It's impressive how something so simple can perform its function so effectively, harnessing mana energy.
This demonstration of magic highlights its practicality in simplifying tasks effectively.
My mind starts racing, considering the possibilities of using other types of crystals for various purposes.
The concept of obtaining water without the need for a pump, with the ability to adjust pressure and flow, makes me think about how quickly I could kickstart my projects in this new world.
However, a discouraging thought creeps into my mind: the possibility that I, as an outsider in this world, may lack the ability to use mana.
"There's a problem. I probably don't have mana," I express my concern while looking at Rem with evident doubts.
My reasoning is based on the premise that, although the story's protagonist had the gift of magic, I am not that fictional character.
I come from a real world where magic is nonexistent, and the very concept of using it seems unattainable.
"Every living being has mana, in your case even more than that," Rem responds to me with a hint of annoyance in her voice.
"More than that?" I try to delve into her thoughts, seeking to open a deeper dialogue.
Rem looks at me briefly and then takes the crystal out of my hands.
"If you can't use mana, don't worry. Focus on pruning the plants; I'll take care of watering them," Rem orders before quickly walking away from me.
Things won't be that simple. At this moment, her hatred seems to cloud her judgment.
With no other options, I immerse myself in the task of pruning the plants while my mind revolves around the concept of mana.
Mana, huh? I see it everywhere.
In the water, in the lights, probably even in the fire. It seems like mana has the ability to transform energy into any type of matter. It's as if it can create matter out of thin air.
However, that would contradict Lavoisier's Law of Conservation of Mass, which states that "matter cannot be created or destroyed, only transformed."
By considering mana as a reactant, as a source of pure energy capable of transforming into other elements, it could be argued that the amount of mana used is equivalent to the amount of matter transformed.
This world is an enigma that challenges the fundamental laws of my scientific understanding, and magic is the key that unlocks endless possibilities and paradoxes.
These crystals must be a precious resource, and I can sense that their production is not something simple.
In the case of Roswaal, who is wealthy, access to these crystals is apparently easy. However, for those less privileged, obtaining resources like water and energy must be a more laborious process, involving wells and less advanced sources of energy, such as firewood.
Although in my world there is no magic or mana, I can understand the implications and complexities that arise from their existence. Magic seems to be an integral part of life in this world, and its impact extends to virtually every aspect of society.
After completing the task of pruning the plants, Rem comes to inspect my work.
She seems satisfied with the result, which gives me a momentary respite. During the journey to the kitchen, neither she nor I utter a word. The tension between us is palpable.
In the kitchen, Rem hands me a tray with tea and two cups.
"This is tea for you to take to Miss Emilia. Mr. Roswaal has decided that you should stay with her as per the contract they made," Rem informs me, and her words clearly indicate that this is an important task.
I suppose Roswaal expects me to assist Emilia with her studies and in the preparation of her political campaign. I have no reason to refuse, and in fact, I would prefer to be involved in more relevant matters than doing household chores in this mansion.
It must be what his book dictates, finding a way to get closer to Emilia.
With the tray in hand, I make my way to Emilia's room. I can't help but notice how huge this mansion is, with its multiple floors and rooms. It looks more like a university than a house.
After climbing a long flight of stairs and walking a considerable distance, I finally reach the door to Emilia's room. I gently knock, and I hear her permission to enter.
"Come in," Emilia authorizes.
Upon entering, I find her sitting with a stack of books by her side. Her expression is one of surprise, as if she hadn't expected to see me here.
"Are you studying?" I ask, still feeling somewhat tired and sweaty after my task.
Emilia smiles at me, but her gaze reflects a kind of longing to find a distraction from her studies, a reason not to immerse herself in them.
"Yes! I'm studying the history of the country. I need to thoroughly understand the history to lead the people properly," Emilia explains enthusiastically, placing a bookmark in her book.
I leave the tea tray on a shelf and pour her a cup. I glance at the books, although I know I can't read them in this unfamiliar world.
"Tell me about your campaign proposal," I suggest, taking a cup of tea and tasting it.
Emilia nods and begins to consider her response.
"I envision a world where everyone is treated with equality," Emilia begins, with a look in her eyes that conveys idealism and a noble purpose.
"And how do you plan to achieve that?" I ask, pouring myself a second cup of tea.
"By making everyone understand that they should respect each other," Emilia proudly responds, believing in her idea.
I didn't expect any less from her, given the discriminatory treatment she has faced in the past. It's a noble idea, although perhaps somewhat idealistic.
"It's a very noble idea," I comment, taking a sip of my tea.
Emilia looks at me with the certainty that her idea is the best, as if she doesn't expect there to be more to say on the matter. However, when I place my cup on the table, I feel the need to add a realistic perspective.
"In that case, you must consider that no one will take you seriously if everyone fears you. Fear can also influence your chances," I warn, sharing a perspective I consider important for her campaign.
She must know it; at this moment, she has the least chance of winning the throne.
But I will change that.
I take a piece of paper and a pencil from the table. On the paper, I draw Emilia as a simple figure, a solitary silhouette.
"Who would vote for you?" I ask, with a look that seeks reflection in her eyes.
Emilia's expression changes to one of frustration as she contemplates the solitary drawing, I have made. She doesn't need to say a word; her face speaks for itself. There doesn't seem to be anyone else in the drawing apart from the two of us at this moment.
She remains silent, head down, struggling with her own inner demons.
"Even if there's no one, you can't give up," I tell her seriously, understanding that her lack of self-confidence is her worst enemy in this campaign. It's her trauma related to the strong racism she has faced that prevents her from taking more decisive actions. She seems to think she only has disadvantages "Roswaal and his contacts already give you a population group, you're not completely adrift."
Her gaze is filled with sadness and vulnerability, her eyelashes slightly drooping, showing how difficult it is for her.
I must know what to say, so that Puck understands that I am not doing this to harm her.
The problem here is that, although I know Emilia due to my knowledge of the story, she doesn't know me. To her, I'm a complete stranger.
Therefore, I must be extremely careful in my approach, especially if Puck is present.
Aware of this delicate situation, I decide to address Emilia respectfully and cautiously.
"I don't see you as others do. To me, you're a normal person, and that's why I can see the potential you have," I tell her, with a sincere smile. "You're just a normal person to me, nothing more than that."
Emilia's eyes open in surprise at my words. She probably has never heard anything like that from a stranger before.
I understand that this is what she has always longed for: a normal relationship, free from the standards and prejudices that prevail in this society. My goal is to provide her with unconditional support at this critical moment in her life.
"We come from different worlds, but that somehow unites us. We are alone in this place," I smile, although I feel a strange tightness in my chest, a sensation seeking refuge somewhere within me, "although you have Puck."
Yes, she is not completely alone.
"Even though we don't know each other now, we will get to know each other over time. I will learn about you, you will learn about me, but I will never stop treating you for who you are." I gently take her hand, conveying a gesture of closeness and support.
Emilia looks at her hand in surprise, then meets my eyes again, which seem to have touched her.
Attack in the right places, that's the strategy I must follow if I want to get close to her quickly.
I can imagine the strong abuse she has endured all her life since she awakened, the loneliness she has had to endure due to her unusual appearance and her dependence on Puck.
I can't judge her for that.
"I'll be honest with you. I'm not one to constantly flatter, but I will always be sincere with you," I explain as she nods slowly.
If she were an ordinary person, she might feel uncomfortable with the frankness of a stranger.
"You are destined to become a ruler, but you won't be a ruler in name only. If you have the determination to do it, whatever the reason behind that determination, you must have the will to see it through to the end."
I squeeze her hand a little, conveying a feeling of confidence.
"When you're ready, tell me everything. But for now, what I want to hear from you is that you want to do it, that you're willing to give it your all to keep your promises, that you will never give up. I want you to tell me that you have the capacity to achieve it."
Now I must begin, even if it feels forced, I must do it.
Emilia hesitates, but I know I must continue pressing her, even if she doesn't like it. I need to make her understand that she is capable of achieving whatever she sets her mind to.
I recall my mother's words: "Words have power," not because I believed in some kind of instant magic, but because repeating them over and over, hundreds, thousands of times, eventually leads you to believe them. Emilia has repeated negative phrases to herself like "I'm worthless" or "I'm a monster," and these beliefs keep her trapped in her own torment.
"If you can't do it, I'll pack my things and leave," I tell her with determination.
She looks me in the eyes, surprised by my words. No matter what I must do, I must have the courage to pursue my goals.
I don't like doing this, but it's the only way to do it.
There's no time to waste; if I want to fulfill my ambitions, Emilia must get better every day, and she is everything I am betting on.
"Say it," I insist firmly, "say that you are capable of being a ruler."
Emilia clenches her lips tightly, closes her eyes, and lowers her head.
For her, uttering those words must not be easy at all. I feel compassion for her, but at the same time, I know I can't allow her to remain stuck in her insecurity.
Self-love doesn't come out of nowhere; it develops when you strive, set goals, and, above all, when you tell yourself that you love yourself.
"I am..." Emilia whispers, with doubts in her voice.
I release her hands and raise mine, pounding the table in a determined gesture. She is surprised, and her expression becomes complicated.
"I don't have to do this if I don't want to. I just have to fulfill my duty," Emilia declares as she gets up from her chair. "I appreciate you saving me, but if you're going to act this way, it's better if we end this. I barely know you, and while I'm grateful for your help, I don't like your manners."
Finally, she has expressed her thoughts.
For Emilia, and for anyone, it must be unbearable for a stranger to take so many liberties with her. Being ripped from her comfort zone by someone she hardly knows must be distressing. She's being asked to face reality in a way she doesn't want to accept.
However, it's often those people who benefit you the most. Those who are capable of pulling you out of your place of suffering and self-deception.
I never had someone like that.
I'm going to be that person for her.
"The pain you carry in your heart is deeply rooted in you," my words touch her, and she reacts with a certain discomfort in her eyes. "I'm sorry, but even though I don't know you, I understand your expression. I can see it in you."
I change my expression, stop forcing a smile, and adjust to her mood. Like when you're exhausted, when you've experienced so many emotions that you no longer know how to feel about yourself.
The loneliness you can feel when you distrust everyone, when you think that anyone is waiting to betray you for a reward.
I've seen horrible things, and in the end, I also know despair and loneliness.
"I know it too. We're not the same; we've both been through different situations, but I can see in your eyes that you feel that same desolation, no matter how much you try to hide it under a fake smile or false expressions," I tell her.
"Then you must know it's not as easy as just saying things," Emilia responds, with a small tear falling from her eyes.
"On the contrary."
The situation may seem as complicated as one wants to see it, but deep down, what we really want is to feel good. What makes us feel good is to escape from despair and loneliness.
"It's the first step," I insist.
Emilia is surprised by my words.
"I'm not going to tell you that everything will be okay right away. I have my own problems too. What I'm trying to tell you is that we need to start doing something about it," I approach her, taking several steps until we are faced to face.
Emilia looks at me in surprise, unsure of how to react.
"Let me show you, let me prove that you're not alone. From now on, I'll prove it to you, whether you want it or not."
My gaze at that moment doesn't reflect sadness or joy; I put all my determination into trying to ignite even a small spark in her.
I don't have time to waste; I don't know what the future holds, and my destiny depends entirely on Emilia.
"But I..."
So, I take her hands, making her look down.
"Even if you can't say it now, we'll work on it together. Just as I took the liberty to tell you this, we'll build the trust to talk to each other."
Emilia raises her head, staring at me intently.
"Why would you do this for someone you barely know?" she asks, with trembling lips.
"It doesn't matter if you've known someone for a day or many years. True value lies in genuinely caring for that person. It's much better to have someone you barely know try to help you than to have someone with years of relationship watch you self-destruct and do nothing about it."
Yes, I'm talking to you... Puck.
Perhaps I'm not looking beyond the present.
If we talk about manipulation, that's not a good option.
It would be too easy to exploit her self-loathing and then manipulate her, just as Roswaal would. Unlike Subaru, I'm not in love with her, which means I won't hold back my words without reason.
I'll become someone who makes her face reality.
"I can see your potential, that's why I'm betting on you," I release her hands and turn my back to her. "This bet benefits both of us, so you can also take advantage of my knowledge and experience."
Emilia doesn't say anything, but she approaches me from behind and gently pushes me.
"You're betting on me, aren't you?"
"Yes, I'm betting on you. That's why I need you to start believing in yourself too."
It's true that relationships aren't formed overnight. Sometimes, you can find a good friend or even a partner on the first day of meeting, and that relationship can flourish and thrive.
Of course, this doesn't happen in every case, but I don't like to get stuck in preconceived ideas. I'll do whatever it takes and act as I see fit.
If I wait for her to trust me without doing anything, months could pass with no progress.
It's better to start today, so that in the future, I can truly earn that trust.
"For me, it's difficult too," Emilia gently nudges me. "It's not easy to trust someone."
"I'm not asking you to trust me right away. What I'm telling you is to observe if I'm trustworthy or not," I say as I clench my fist. "From now on, we'll work together, but if I can't understand who you really are... how am I supposed to help you?"
Emilia seems to understand it, though she's not willing to accept it. We're not friends, we're not lovers, there's no attraction between us. We're just two strangers who want to get to know each other.
"I'll show you that I'm reliable, but to achieve that, you must also show me that you're reliable," I extend my right hand, offering a handshake. "Neither you nor I know much about each other yet, but as we move forward, we'll get to know each other better."
"Yes," Emilia agrees.
"So, we have infinite possibilities to get to know each other," I add.
Emilia smiles weakly, finally understanding my words.
"It's not about trusting now, but thinking about trusting in the future," Emilia emphasizes.
"Exactly. When you really want to trust someone, that's when you do it," I smile sincerely.
Emilia grips my hand, symbolizing the first step we take together.
We commit to learning from each other and establishing open communication, gradually building mutual trust. It's not about following a pre-set script like in a book but experiencing a genuine and spontaneous connection.
After our handshake, we sit down. Emilia takes a deep breath and lets out a laugh.
It's a liberating laugh, perhaps driven by the absurdity of the situation.
But deep down, I know this was the answer. When you find yourself trapped in your own shell, you long for someone to come and break it, you long for someone to rescue you.
No matter who that person is, as long as they arrive, anyone is important. Emilia finally stops laughing, wiping the tears from her eyes that welled up due to her uncontrollable laughter.
"You're strange, coming here and telling me these things, it's the weirdest thing that's ever happened to me in my entire life," Emilia then crosses her fingers, "but I can't say it's unpleasant."
"It's because I'm good with pretty ladies," I wink.
Right now, my name doesn't hold any meaning for her, but that's not important. It's not about time; it's about the actions we both take, the meaning she'll give to my name as we interact, and the way we do it.
Emilia looks at me, and instead of blushing, she smiles.
"Silly."
Now that we've overcome this stage, it's time to start working for real.
"So, let's begin," I look at the stack of books.
"Yes, let's start."