"...Who the hell are you?"
The blonde man tilted his head, as if considering how much flair the answer required.
He stepped forward, boots tapping lightly on stone, and offered a shallow, elegant bow—one hand across his chest, the other hovering in a lazy flourish.
"Lucien Veyne," he said—his voice smooth as smoke curling from a candle. "A wandering minstrel, a humble storyteller, a part-time philosopher, and a full-time nuisance."
He straightened, eyes gleaming with mischief.
"And rescuer of distressed young men in alleys."
Subaru stared at him like he'd just confessed to being a magical talking doorknob.
Reinhard, unfazed, stepped calmly into the alley and positioned himself between Subaru and the trio.
"Regardless of the circumstances," he said, tone formal but not cold, "I will not permit any further violence against him. You've gone far enough."
Ton took a cautious step back.
"You've gotta be kidding…" Chin whispered. "Blazing red hair… blue eyes… That sword sheath—Dragon's Claw—"
His face drained of color.
"Reinhard? Reinhard the Sword Saint?!"
Reinhard gave a soft, almost apologetic smile and inclined his head. "Seems I won't need to introduce myself."
Kan nearly dropped his blade.
Lucien, meanwhile, perched himself on a crate near the wall, swinging one leg over the other as he plucked a small golden pick from his sleeve.
"You see?" he murmured, strumming a lazy chord on the air. "That's what a proper entrance sounds like."
Subaru couldn't stop staring. The guy looked like he'd wandered in from a different story entirely. Too poised. Too polished. And that smile—like someone reading lines he'd memorized. A weirdo.
"Hey," Subaru hissed to Reinhard's back. "Do you know this guy?"
Reinhard nodded slightly, eyes still on the thugs. "We met recently. He tends to… appear in strange places."
"Like a rash?"
"Like a comet," Lucien supplied helpfully.
"Didn't ask you," Subaru muttered.
Ton, Chin, and Kan froze like statues in a museum titled Poor Life Choices. Kan trembled. Chin whispered about holy bloodlines. Ton looked ready to bolt.
"I'll leave it at that if you flee," Reinhard said gently. "Otherwise, you will face the consequences."
He gestured toward Lucien, who resumed tuning his lute with mild boredom.
Subaru blinked. "Wait—him? He doesn't even have a weapon!"
Lucien wagged a finger. "Incorrect. I possess several. Just none you can see."
"That's not ominous at all."
Apparently the thugs agreed. Without another word, they bolted, disappearing down the alley with such desperation they didn't even offer a parting threat.
Silence fell.
Reinhard exhaled softly and let his hand drop from his sword hilt. "I'm glad that resolved peacefully."
Lucien sighed. "Speak for yourself. I was halfway into my entrance monologue."
Subaru brushed imaginary dust from his tracksuit. "Okay. So—thank you, Reinhard. Again. You are ridiculously good at the whole 'showing up exactly on time' thing."
Reinhard smiled faintly. "I'm glad I could help."
Subaru turned to Lucien, wary. "But you—bard—what's your deal?"
Lucien raised his eyebrows and offered another miniature bow. "Already gave you my name. Everything else takes time."
"You followed him here?"
Lucien hummed thoughtfully. "Let's just say… I'm fond of watching turning points."
"You're really starting to creep me out."
"That's fair."
Reinhard stepped in, gently redirecting the tension. "Lucien's odd, but he means no harm."
"Mm," Lucien murmured. "For now."
Subaru stared. Reinhard looked mildly exasperated. Lucien seemed delighted.
Then Lucien turned to Subaru, and for the first time, his expression shifted—quieter, less performative.
"You looked like you were bracing for déjà vu," he said softly.
Subaru stiffened.
Lucien's gaze sharpened—not cold, not hostile, but probing.
"Tell me… how many times have you walked this alley already?"
Subaru's mouth went dry.
Reinhard looked between them, confused.
But Lucien had already turned away, dusting off his coat like the question had been rhetorical.
Reinhard stayed silent. Subaru swallowed and forced himself to speak.
"Thank you, both of you," Subaru muttered, brushing grit from his knees.
"Twice in one day," Reinhard said with a light chuckle. "I should consider shadowing you. You seem to attract complications."
"I'd rather not be the guy who gets saved like clockwork," Subaru grumbled. "Makes me feel like a mascot for poor decisions."
Lucien stepped forward, spinning a silver coin across his knuckles. "Ah, but mascots are beloved. You represent something—unpredictability, thematic irony..."
"I'll pass on being symbolic, thanks."
Lucien flipped the coin, caught it, then tucked it behind Reinhard's ear.
Reinhard blinked. "…Was that necessary?"
"Entirely not," Lucien grinned. "But enjoyable."
Subaru side-eyed him. "Do you always act like a one-man circus?"
"No," Lucien said, folding his arms. "Sometimes I act like a retired opera house."
Reinhard smiled faintly. "He's not always this theatrical. Only when someone's watching."
"You wound me," Lucien gasped. "I'm always being watched. That's the problem."
Subaru chuckled despite himself. "You're so weird, it's almost disarming."
Lucien bowed again, this time without flair. "That's the idea."
The alley settled into post-chaos silence, broken only by a distant shout and a bird's caw.
"Are you hurt at all?" Reinhard asked.
"No. I mean, a little ego bruised, but not a scratch."
"That's good. You were prepared this time. Even called for help earlier."
"Guess I'm learning," Subaru said quickly.
Lucien knelt beside his crate and tuned his harp. "I was drawn by the sound. Few people shout like that without real conviction."
"Or desperation," Subaru muttered.
"Same song, different key."
"You seem to have a knack for showing up when people need help," Reinhard said.
Lucien strummed a chord. "Only when the melody's right."
"The what?" Subaru asked.
"Moment, I mean. Everyone's walking around with a soundtrack. Sometimes, you just catch the beat."
"That's… poetic," Reinhard said.
"It's also nonsense," Subaru muttered.
"Isn't that the best kind?"
A beat passed.
"You mentioned searching for someone?" Reinhard asked.
"Yeah. A girl. Silver hair. Probably near here, but I've been… off track."
"Do you know her name?"
"I… no. It's complicated."
Lucien slung the harp over his shoulder. "Then let's simplify it. We'll help you look."
"You'll… just like that?"
"Of course," Reinhard said. "If someone needs help, I'll offer it."
"And I'm rarely one to refuse a story still unfolding," Lucien added.
"You don't even know me."
"Don't need to," Lucien said. "Your face in that alley said enough. You looked like someone who needed someone to walk beside them. Even if just for a few steps."
"I like to catch people mid-journey. That's when they sing the most interesting songs."
Subaru opened his mouth. Then closed it.
"Come," Reinhard said. "We'll check the plaza."
Lucien paused. "Actually… you said this was the second time I helped you."
"Yeah? Sort of."
"I wonder…" Lucien said. "Did I feel the same both times?"
Before Subaru could answer, Lucien turned and walked into the fading light.
"…I don't know if I like him," Subaru said.
"You're not alone," Reinhard replied.
"But I do trust him. Somehow."
"Then perhaps he's doing something right."
Subaru hesitated.
Then followed.
They emerged from the alley like ghosts returning to the living.
Sunlight hit harder than expected—low and golden, like the city was trying to wash tension away with warmth. The plaza ahead buzzed: merchants shouting, wheels clattering, someone mid-argument over dried fish.
Normal.
Subaru hated how normal it sounded.
He squinted into the light, letting it sting. Then looked to Lucien, who walked a few steps ahead, hands clasped behind his back, coat catching the breeze like part of some unseen play.
"Hey. Lucien."
Lucien turned mid-step. "Yes, Subaru?"
"You said something weird. Back in the alley."
"I say many weird things."
"No, I mean about déjà vu. That look in my eyes."
"Ah. That."
"You said I'd been here before."
"You have," Lucien said lightly. "Several times, if I'm not mistaken. Just not with us."
Subaru's gut twitched.
"You keep saying things like you know stuff. Specific stuff. About me."
"Lucien does phrase things mysteriously," Reinhard offered.
"Guilty," Lucien chuckled.
"But it's not just that," Subaru pressed. "You talked like you expected me. Like you knew how the alley would go."
Lucien raised his hands in mock surrender. "Accusations already? At least buy me something to eat first."
"I'm serious."
"I know."
Lucien looked off toward the market. "If it helps, I don't possess insight into your personal story. No future sight. No memory of anything unknown. Not even a Divine Blessing related to time."
"Then how—?"
"I know someone who does."
That made them both pause.
"A friend," Lucien said. "Very odd. Sees the world like a broken clock that still ticks perfectly on the hour. Always talking about threads, choices, the shape of fate. I don't understand half of it."
"She a divinator?" Reinhard asked.
"Doubt it. Just lucky. But sometimes when she says, 'Follow this street today, not tomorrow,' or 'Play your song here, not there.' I listened."
"And you go along with it?" Subaru asked.
"It's made for interesting days. I don't have a destiny or goal of my own. Might as well help others find theirs."
The wind picked up. His ribbon fluttered.
Subaru studied him. Too smooth. But not lying.
"So you've got a weird friend and weird luck."
"And a very non-weird Divine Blessing," Lucien added, tapping the golden sun-shaped brooch at his chest. "Radiant Voice. It's just music. No timeline tricks. I make people cry with songs."
"Must be one hell of a song."
"Sometimes."
"I don't think we need to worry," Reinhard said. "He's unconventional, yes. But good-hearted."
"Exceptionally good-hearted," Lucien said.
"You just seem like a guy who knows too much," Subaru muttered.
Lucien walked backward again, smiling. "Oh, I know just enough. Any more and I'd lose the fun of being surprised."
Then he spun forward. "Now! Let's find that silver-haired mystery girl. She's probably somewhere dramatically inconvenient."
"You sure he's not secretly royalty?" Subaru muttered.
"He's not," Reinhard said. "But sometimes I wonder if he's the only one of us not pretending."
"…Huh?"
"Nothing."
And Subaru, caught between suspicion and gratitude, followed them into the noise and color of the plaza—unknowing, uncertain, and just a beat behind the rhythm of the story already beginning to change.