The next morning.
Gojo woke to chattering outside his window.
He rubbed his eyes, dragged himself upright with his hair going in six directions at once, and squinted through the glass.
Down in the courtyard, Subaru and Emilia were talking, laughing about something he couldn't quite make out. Whatever it was, the mood between them looked warm. Easy.
So this is protagonist charm in action?
Strictly speaking, when all of this started, Subaru had been on the opposing side. He was with Felt's group, after all. The thief's camp.
And yet here he was, already embedded in Emilia's inner circle like he'd always belonged there.
Setting aside the fact that Emilia seemed genuinely guileless by nature, Subaru's ability to put people at ease was undeniable.
"Guess I'd better step up my game too."
He got up, washed his face properly, ran his fingers through his hair until it cooperated, and checked himself in the mirror. Satisfied with the handsome bastard staring back at him, he headed for the door.
The moment he opened it, a familiar figure stood on the other side, tray in hand, one arm raised mid-knock.
"Miss Rem? Breakfast delivered to the room?"
Rem stepped past him without waiting for an invitation, set the tray on the table, and turned.
"No. Everyone else finished in the dining hall some time ago."
"Not everyone manages to sleep through the morning prayer bells and miss the breakfast window Ram prepared."
"Ah. My apologies."
He didn't sound particularly sorry. He dropped into the chair and looked down at the tray.
A plate with scalloped edges held neatly stacked toast. A fried egg with its rim crisped to perfection. A rose-colored jam that gave off a rich, sweet fragrance. And beside it all, a pudding with a glistening caramel sheen.
Nothing extravagant in quantity, but it was the most proper breakfast he'd had since arriving in this world.
"Time to eat."
He went for the pudding first.
"By the way, Miss Rem, what's on your schedule today?"
"Trimming the courtyard hedges, cleaning the fountain, preparing lunch, organizing the attic storeroom, washing all the ground-floor windows..."
She rattled off the list like a tongue twister, one task bleeding into the next without pause.
Gojo's head was spinning by the end of it.
"When I was talking with Roswaal last night, he mentioned there used to be a whole staff of maids here. Just the two of you keeping this place running must be exhausting."
"The workload is heavier, yes. But for Lord Roswaal's sake, it is worthwhile."
"And if the guest intends to use 'lightening the workload' as a pretense to recruit Rem for a dessert shop, he should abandon that thought now."
Her expression said she'd already seen through him. The refusal came without a shred of hesitation.
"Well."
Gojo polished off the pudding in three bites and grinned.
"Miss Rem really does have a strong bias against me."
"But I've actually come up with a new idea. Want to hear it?"
Rem glanced at the tray, where most of the food had already vanished. "The guest is asked not to waste Rem's working hours. Please finish eating."
"Hiring you away from here, sure, you'd never agree to that."
"But what about a dessert shop run as a joint venture with Roswaal?"
He spread jam across a slice of toast, wearing his most self-satisfied smile.
Rem went quiet. Something behind her eyes shifted, processing, like a program encountering an unexpected input. After a moment of genuine deliberation, she spoke.
"I refuse. If Rem left, the mansion would fall to my sister alone. She cannot handle this volume of work by herself."
"So bring back one or two of the old maids. Problem solved."
Gojo's grin widened, as though he'd stumbled onto something genuinely entertaining.
"If it's Roswaal's business, then Miss Rem devoting herself to running it would be perfectly natural, wouldn't it?"
Rem stared at him. Then she looked at the tray, now nearly empty, picked it up without ceremony, and tucked it under her arm.
"Please arrive at the dining hall on time for lunch."
Gojo didn't try to stop her. He just watched her leave with a slice of toast hanging from his mouth, still smiling, before he wandered outside at his own unhurried pace.
"Yo. Morning."
He called out to Emilia and Subaru as he reached the courtyard.
"It's not morning anymore. It's almost noon," Subaru said, bright-eyed and bursting with energy.
"If you and Emilia and Puck hadn't been out here making all that noise, I probably could've slept even longer."
"Oh no, were we too loud?"
Emilia looked at him, genuinely apologetic.
"Don't worry about it."
"Had to get up sometime."
"Besides, Puck's already clocked in for work, right?"
The little spirit drifted over to Gojo's side and puffed out his chest. "I never show up late."
"Just leave early a lot."
"Satoru, you're really asking for it."
"Hyah! Hyah!" Puck threw tiny punches in the air, bristling with mock aggression.
"By the way, where's Felt? I haven't seen her."
"No idea. She disappeared right after breakfast." Subaru scratched his head. "Haven't seen her since."
"Forget it. Lunch is soon anyway. I'll talk to her then."
Gojo turned to Subaru.
"Hey, Subaru. About Roswaal wanting to repay us. What are you thinking?"
The question landed out of nowhere, and Subaru blinked.
What was there to think about? They'd already agreed on a plan. Take a lump sum and leave.
Then he noticed Gojo shifting so his back was to Emilia, lifting his sunglasses just enough to shoot him a very deliberate look.
Subaru wasn't slow. It clicked immediately.
Gojo was setting him up. Giving him an assist.
He silently gave the man a mental thumbs-up.
Before, taking the money and walking away had made perfect sense. But now?
A chance to spend real time around Emilia didn't come along every day.
Subaru considered it for barely a second before putting on his most earnest expression. "I think I'd rather stay at the mansion and work alongside Ram and the others."
Gojo: ?
A massive question mark materialized above his head.
He pulled off his sunglasses, leaned in close to Subaru, and actually pressed a hand to the boy's forehead.
"No fever."
Wait.
This didn't make sense.
Was the story going off the rails?
He even stole a glance at the pale blue text of the Supporting Character System floating in his field of vision.
This guy was the protagonist, right?
He was definitely the protagonist. He hadn't picked the wrong person back then, had he?
What kind of protagonist volunteers to be a servant in someone else's mansion?
Did the gap between our eras really change things this much? Has protagonist culture gotten this weird in the years since my time?
Gojo sank into a deep, troubled silence and couldn't find his way back out.