Pancakes

The moment the doors slid open, Subaru knew—knew—this wasn’t going to be a peaceful lunch.

It should have been. The food was already laid out in front of them, steaming bowls of rice, grilled fish, and miso soup—miso soup!—which meant this was an unforgivable crime. A sin against everything she stood for.

But before she could argue, in stepped Priscilla Barielle, in all her gaudy, arrogant glory, her long, blazing red hair trailing behind her as she entered like she owned the place. (She probably did. That woman had too much money and not enough restraint.)

Trailing behind her was Al, her ever-loyal knight, who immediately spotted Subaru and gave her a lazy wave.

“Yo, bro,” he said. “Fancy seein’ you here.”

Subaru, despite the growing sense of doom in her gut, waved back automatically. “Yo.”

Then she heard footsteps—more than two.

Another figure entered.

Tall. Poised. Crusch Karsten.

Subaru tensed. Not because she had anything against Crusch, but because Crusch never traveled alone.

And right on cue—

“Yo-hoo, Subaru-kyun~!”

Ferris.

Subaru fought the urge to groan.

Ferris beamed at her, fox-like eyes glinting. “Oh my, looking stunning as always! I almost didn’t recognize you with all that~!”

Subaru smiled through gritted teeth. “Thanks, Ferri. Love the compliments. You can stop now.”

But she barely heard herself speak.

Because right behind them, entering the cabin like a phantom—

Was him.

Wilhelm Van Astrea.

The old man stood tall, his sharp blue eyes boring into her like a blade to the throat.

Subaru stiffened.

Oh no. Oh no no no no no.

Her self-proclaimed husband had arrived.

She gulped.

Wilhelm’s expression was unreadable, but the way he stared at her was anything but.

Subaru immediately ducked behind Garfiel.

Garfiel, who had been stuffing rice into his mouth, barely registered the movement before Subaru practically merged with his back.

“Oi, Cap’n, what’re ya doin’—?”

“Shhh! Meat shield,” Subaru whispered urgently.

Wilhelm took a step forward. Subaru took a step back, using Garfiel like a human barricade.

“Theresia,” Wilhelm said, voice as steady as a mountain.

Subaru wheezed.

Emilia, completely oblivious, tilted her head. “Subaru, why are you hiding?”

Before she could answer—

“Grandmother!”

Subaru’s soul left her body.

Slowly, very slowly, she peeked around Garfiel’s shoulder.

There he was.

Reinhard Van Astrea.

Standing tall, smiling radiantly, as if his presence wasn’t single-handedly making Subaru wish she could implode.

Subaru immediately retreated back behind Garfiel.

“Nope. No. Absolutely not.”

“Grandmother?” Reinhard’s voice was filled with concern. “Why are you hiding?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because I don’t have a death wish?!” Subaru hissed under her breath.

But it wasn’t over.

Because fate was cruel.

A shadow loomed over the doorway.

Another figure.

One that Subaru had explicitly been avoiding for an entire year.

“Mother…”

Oh for f—!

Heinkel Van Astrea.

Standing in the doorway.

Looking at her with something like awe, relief, and deep, deep trauma.

Subaru wanted to die.

Why?!

Why was she cursed with this face? This exact face? A one-to-one replica of the greatest swordswoman in history?!

She knew she shouldn’t have left the Mathers Domain. She should’ve just stayed in Roswaal’s creepy little mansion forever. At least there, she didn’t have a horde of Astreas chasing after her like she was the second coming of their beloved matriarch.

Crusch, bless her, immediately picked up on the tension.

Her sharp green eyes flickered between Subaru and the entire Astrea lineage, and to her credit, she was quick to defuse the situation.

“Wilhelm,” she said smoothly, stepping between them, “perhaps it would be best not to startle Lady Subaru.”

Subaru immediately latched onto the lifeline.

“Yes, exactly! Thank you, Crusch-sama!”

But Reinhard was persistent.

“Grandmother, why are you acting like this?”

Subaru peeked over Garfiel’s shoulder. “Why wouldn’t I act like this?!”

“This isn’t how you used to behave,” Reinhard said, completely serious.

That’s because I’m not your grandmother, you walking cheat code!

Wilhelm, however, took a different approach.

“I do not wish to pressure you, Theresia,” he said, calm but determined. “But to see you after so long…” His expression softened—just a fraction. “Even if you do not remember, I am content to simply see you again.”

Subaru inhaled. Exhaled. Then turned to the ceiling and whispered, “God, please take me back.”

No answer.

Damn.

Garfiel, who had been watching all this unfold with increasing confusion, finally spoke up.

“So, uh, we just gonna eat, or…?”

Anastasia, having enjoyed the entire exchange far too much, finally decided to step in.

“Alright, alright, let’s all settle down now,” she said, waving a hand. “We ain’t here to start drama. We’re here to have a nice meal.”

Subaru threw her an unimpressed glare.

Easy for you to say. You don’t have a whole bloodline trying to adopt you.

Anastasia simply smirked.

“Now,” she continued, “if ya’ fine gentlemen could kindly give our dear Subaru some breathing room, I think we can all agree that lunch would be much more enjoyable.”

The Astreas reluctantly backed off.

Wilhelm gave her one last, lingering glance before stepping aside.

Reinhard still looked concerned, but thankfully, he said nothing.

And Heinkel… Heinkel just looked like he was holding back tears.

Subaru exhaled, finally stepping out from behind Garfiel.

Then she turned to Anastasia and mouthed, I’m gonna kill you.

Anastasia just grinned.

"A’right then! Let's dig in!"

Subaru slumped into her seat, utterly drained.

Her vacation had barely started, and already, she wanted to throw herself into the nearest river.

Ö~Ö

Subaru had been so close to enjoying this.

Pancakes. Beautiful, glorious pancakes. The moment Anastasia had cheerfully declared, And now, make your own! Subaru had practically vibrated with joy.

This was her moment.

She had practically dragged Emilia and Garfiel to her side, Beatrice huffing as she refused to engage in such lowly activities. But that was fine. That was fine!

Because Subaru was about to flex her skills.

“Alright, listen up, children,” she declared, cracking her knuckles as she grabbed a wooden spoon. “Today, I, the Great Natsuki Subaru, shall teach you the sacred art of the Perfect Pancake—”

And that’s when she felt the weight of their stares.

Wilhelm and Reinhard.

Both watching her. Closely.

They were whispering to each other. Nodding. Looking so damn pleased.

And Subaru knew.

She knew!

She didn’t even have to hear them to know what was going through their heads.

Ah, just as graceful as ever, Theresia.

Look at how naturally she moves. A true woman of the Astrea lineage.

She has truly returned to us.

Subaru’s left eye twitched.

Emilia, oblivious as ever, smiled at her. “Subaru, could you help us?”

And Subaru, fool that she was, nodded enthusiastically. “Of course! I am so ready for this—”

That was the first mistake.

Because no sooner had she finished her own beautiful pancake and prepared to dig in, did the voices of doom speak.

"Subaru-dono," Wilhelm said, in that ever-gentle, ever-patient voice of his.

Subaru froze.

"...Yes?" she said, very slowly.

Reinhard smiled at her. "Would you help us as well?"

Subaru wheeled on him. “You need help?”

Reinhard, the man with a literal Divine Protection that let him succeed at everything, nodded seriously. “Yes. I am not in the mood to use my Divine Protection of Ready-Made Pancakes.”

Subaru stared at him.

What the actual hell kind of Divine Protection is that?!

But before she could even begin to comprehend that insanity, Wilhelm struck.

“I fear I lack the delicate hand for such a task.”

Subaru turned her betrayed gaze to Anastasia.

The merchant just sipped her tea, smirking.

You planned this, didn’t you?

“Subaru?” Emilia called, tilting her head.

Traitor.

Absolute traitor.

Emilia, her precious Emilia, was giving her puppy dog eyes.

And Subaru knew she had lost.

Begrudgingly, she dragged herself up and plopped herself down between Wilhelm and Reinhard.

“Alright,” she muttered. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

Wilhelm handed her the bowl of batter. His hand grazed hers.

Subaru snatched her hand back.

“No touching my hand, old man!” she snapped. “You touch my hand like I’m a flower!”

Wilhelm chuckled. Chuckled! “You are a flower, Theresia-dear.”

Subaru slammed her forehead onto the table.

“Aaaaugh!”

Anastasia snorted.

“Can we just make the damn pancakes?” Subaru groaned.

Reinhard, bless him, took this very seriously.

“Yes, grandmother,” he said.

Subaru’s soul cracked.

She grabbed a spoon. “Just—just watch carefully, okay?”

Wilhelm and Reinhard nodded.

Subaru sighed, picking up the batter. “Okay. You gently scoop the batter and slowly pour it in a circle—”

Wilhelm immediately botched it.

Instead of a perfect circle, he ended up with some abomination of a shape that looked like a poorly drawn sword.

Subaru gaped at it.

“What is that?!”

Wilhelm, utterly unfazed, nodded in approval. “A blade.”

Subaru’s brain short-circuited.

“…Sir, this is a pancake.”

Wilhelm hummed. “Yes.”

“No.” Subaru pointed at the mess. “That is not a pancake.”

Wilhelm just smiled.

Subaru wheezed.

She turned to Reinhard. “Okay. You, Mr. Divine Protection of Instant Pancakes, show me what you’ve got.”

Reinhard nodded seriously. He picked up the batter, concentrated—

And then proceeded to absolutely destroy the entire pancake-making process.

Too much batter. Too thick. It sizzled in the pan like an eldritch horror, oozing at the edges like it was alive.

Subaru flung herself back. “Oh my God, what is that?!”

Reinhard frowned. “Did I do something wrong?”

“You made an abomination!”

Wilhelm, looking at his grandson’s work, nodded approvingly. “A true warrior does not fear to pour with confidence.”

Subaru grabbed Garfiel’s arm.

“Gar, am I hallucinating this?”

Garfiel just stared at the two Astreas, utterly dumbfounded. “Uh… I dunno what the hell I’m lookin’ at, Cap’n.”

Beatrice finally joined in, peering over the table.

And then she just laughed.

“Oh ho ho ho! What an absolute failure, I suppose!”

Subaru threw her hands up. “Right?! Right?! It’s not just me?!”

Reinhard and Wilhelm, completely unbothered, simply looked at their monstrosities with thoughtful expressions.

“Hmm,” Reinhard said, tilting his head.

“I see,” Wilhelm said, nodding.

And then—

Wilhelm calmly turned to Subaru.

“I shall require further lessons.”

Subaru—

Subaru.exe has stopped working.

Emilia, who had been struggling to keep a straight face, finally clapped her hands together.

“I think it’s nice that you’re spending time together,” she said.

Subaru grabbed a pancake and shoved it into her mouth.

“Mfffhf!”

Emilia blinked. “Subaru?”

Subaru swallowed, slammed her hands onto the table, and glared at Anastasia.

“You planned this.”

Anastasia just smiled, sipping her tea.

“Enjoying your vacation, dear?”

Subaru, dead inside, picked up her fork.

“…I hate you.”

Anastasia just laughed.

Ö~Ö

Subaru had made a critical error.

She had assumed—assumed—that after the nightmare that was the Great Pancake Incident, she would be free.

She had escaped the Astreas. She had fled the scene, her soul barely intact, her pride in tatters. She had thought, for a brief, beautiful moment, that she had won.

But no.

Because Wilhelm was following her.

Through the courtyard.

Like some kind of overbearing grandfather who had decided that today was the day he would bestow upon her the wisdom of ages.

And Subaru—

Subaru was suffering.

“I am nineteen, old man!” she shouted, whipping around to face him.

Wilhelm did not even flinch.

He met her glare with a serene smile, as if he were completely at peace with the fact that she was hissing at him like a feral cat.

“You are amnesic,” he said, with the kind of patience only an elder could possess. “Thinking you are ‘Subaru Natsuki.’ But no matter what you believe, you will always be Theresia van Astrea.”

Subaru slammed her forehead into the nearest tree.

“Aaaaugh!”

This was hell.

This was her own, personalized hell.

She didn’t know who in the universe had decided that she should suffer like this, but she wanted a refund.

“Listen,” she groaned, turning around. “I get it. I look like her. And I get that you are desperate to cling onto something. But Wilhelm, buddy, pal, I am not your dead wife!”

Wilhelm nodded sagely. “Yes.”

Subaru blinked.

“Wait. Yes?”

“Yes.” Wilhelm’s expression was painfully gentle. “You believe you are Subaru Natsuki. But that is only a symptom of your amnesia. I understand.”

Subaru’s soul cracked.

“No, no, NO—” she jabbed a finger at him. “You are NOT flipping this around on me like I am some lost old lady who needs to be guided back home!”

Wilhelm, unbothered, simply inclined his head.

“Have you eaten enough today?”

Subaru sputtered.

“What?”

“You must maintain your strength,” Wilhelm said, completely serious. “A proper breakfast is essential to a warrior’s body. You must eat well, Theresia.”

Subaru threw her hands up. “OH, COME ON!”

Wilhelm nodded to himself. “I have also been thinking… as your husband, I should be more involved in your personal development.”

Subaru squeaked.

“NO—”

“As such, I will be offering you guidance in swordsmanship.”

Subaru’s jaw dropped.

“Excuse me?!”

Wilhelm smiled.

“Would you prefer to start training in the mornings or evenings?”

Subaru grabbed a nearby bench.

“For the love of all that is holy,” she muttered, “someone, anyone, just smite me.”

Wilhelm took her suffering as thoughtful contemplation.

“I see,” he nodded. “You would prefer both.”

Subaru screamed into her hands.

“I swear to god, if you start calling me ‘wife’ again, I am going to break something.”

Wilhelm smiled so gently it physically hurt.

“…My love?”

Subaru yeeted herself over the nearest fence.

If there was one thing Subaru had learned in her nineteen years of life, it was that sometimes, the best way to make someone shut up was to physically beat the delusion out of them.

So.

She decided to accept Wilhelm’s so-called training.

In a kimono.

Because if she was going to suffer, she was going to suffer in style.

—

“Are you certain you wish to go through with this?” Wilhelm asked, standing before her with his sword at the ready.

Subaru adjusted the sleeves of her pristine white kimono, floral patterns blooming across the silk as she cracked her knuckles.

“Oh, I am very certain.”

Wilhelm, like the absolute fool he was, smiled warmly.

“I am glad. Then let us be—”

Subaru moved.

A sheath slammed into his ribs.

Wilhelm staggered back, eyes wide as he barely managed to parry the next blow.

Subaru’s Excalibur—still sheathed—whipped through the air like a battering ram, brutal in every single movement.

Wilhelm grunted, blocking her next strike—only for Subaru to twist on her heel, flipping her sword around and bashing him across the temple with the hilt.

Wilhelm’s soul nearly left his body.

Ferris, who had been watching from the sidelines, winced.

Reinhard, who had also been watching, looked downright delighted.

Wilhelm, to his credit, did not fall over.

His body was screaming, but his soul—oh, his soul was soaring.

“My love,” Wilhelm wheezed, touching his bruised face with something bordering on awe. “You still fight with such grace.”

Subaru snapped.

“STOP CALLING ME THAT!”

She lunged forward, sword swinging in a downward arc—

Wilhelm dodged, barely—

She pivoted, switching directions mid-strike—

Wilhelm tried to counter, but Subaru twisted again, delivering a brutal upward strike to his chin.

The old man hit the ground like a sack of bricks.

Ferris clapped.

Reinhard beamed.

“I want a turn.”

Subaru, breathing hard, glared at him.

“Do you, now?”

Reinhard, still smiling, summoned his dragon sword.

“I do.”

—

It was hell.

Reinhard, the walking cheat code, was way too strong for his own good.

But.

Subaru had one advantage.

Reinhard had the Divine Protection of Not Getting Pain.

So when Subaru started going feral, absolutely bludgeoning him with the sheathed Excalibur, he didn’t feel anything.

But everyone else did.

Because while Reinhard himself was unbothered, his body was still being sent flying across the courtyard like a ragdoll.

Every hit launched him into the air.

Every impact shook the very foundation of Priestella.

And every single onlooker—including Crusch, Al, Priscilla, and even Anastasia—were watching in horror as the most powerful man in the world got batted around like a toy.

“Again!” Reinhard cheered.

Subaru screamed and hit him harder.