Salvation of The Scum Fifth Prince

[76 - hello; little fool]

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.