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Part 16 of WitchBaru, BodySwap and FemBaru: Rule 63
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Published:
2025-10-03
Updated:
2025-10-19
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6,654
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3/?
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That Time Subaru Woke Up As A Demon Girl

Summary:

Subaru was just minding his own business when he suddenly found himself in another world...

In a girl's body. A girl with an axe. And horns. What the hell?! Why? Why not as a handsome man instead?

Well, whatever, he will face it all and become the ultimate iseaki protagonist, the gender bender is the only downside anyways. First of all, he should form a party with...a priest, a warrior and a mage. Hopefully there will be a cute elf too.

[Poor, poor Subaru...]

My Discord Server link: https://discord.gg/X7sphRUsxJ

Notes:

Two hours ago...

I hate him...

How dare he!

Gah! He deserves punishment! I'm gonna gender bender him too! ❝The Day An Artist Named Eternal Woke Up As Patrasche!❞

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: The Unexpected Isekai

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The moon hung high above, pale and swollen like it had too much sake, spilling its silver light across the trees. The night was thick with silence, only the rustle of leaves breaking through. Subaru blinked once, twice, then again, harder this time, as if maybe the act of forcing his eyes shut and opening them would make sense of what had just happened.

Nope. Still here.

The very last thing he remembered was the universal joy of finishing a long, well-earned piss behind the corner store—pants zipped, whistling, life good. And now… now he was in a forest. Not just any forest either. The trees stood tall and jagged, their bark warped like old scars. Their branches reached for the sky in crooked fingers. The air was cool, damp, heavy with the smell of moss.

“What the hell…?” he muttered. His breath puffed faintly in the moonlight, his voice strange in his own ears.

Then came the weight in his hand. He looked down.

An axe.

Subaru tilted his head, blinked, squinted. An honest-to-god axe. He wasn’t the type to handle tools—hell, even a butter knife was dangerous if you left him in the kitchen too long. Yet here it was, resting easy in his grip, as if his body had swung axes since the day it was born.

“Uh… huh? Why an axe? Did I get lumberjack DLC? Where’s my tutorial screen?!”

He tried to drop it, but his fingers clung tight. It felt natural. Too natural. That alone gave him a shiver.

Then he noticed something even stranger. The fabric brushing against his arms and legs. It was soft. Flowing. A little tight in certain places.

“What the—”

He pinched at the hem of the fabric and pulled it up slightly. Frills. Ruffles. A skirt. His jaw went slack. He tugged further. Stockings. Tight stockings hugging smooth legs.

His pupils shrank.

“…No. No way. Why the hell am I wearing… this?! Some kinda crossdressing event? Did someone prank me?!”

The skirt swished when he shifted. Definitely real. Definitely on him. He staggered back, heart hammering, and almost tripped over a root.

Was this it? Was this finally it? His isekai protagonist moment?

The thought struck him like lightning.

He snapped his gaze skyward.

The stars. The stars would tell him the truth.

He tilted his head back, eyes widening. The heavens glittered with countless jewels, but none of them were familiar. No Orion’s belt, no North Star pointing smugly in the distance. The constellations were alien, dancing in foreign patterns across the velvet sky.

“Yes!” Subaru pumped his fist at the heavens, practically hopping. “Yes, yes, yes! Another world, baby! Finally! Yoooosh!”

The axe gleamed in his hand like the starter weapon from every RPG ever. His gaze drifted down to his frilly attire. Maybe this was his beginner’s gear. Once he leveled up, surely he’d unlock something cooler. Some flashy cape. A trench coat. At the very least pants.

For now, he’d take it.

“Step one,” he whispered to himself, nodding seriously. “Slimes. Gotta kill slimes.”

He clenched his free hand into a fist, feeling a strange excitement buzz in his veins. His tongue felt odd in his mouth, though. Like it was sharper somehow. His canines brushed his lip. And his breath—was it… heavier? Musky? Weird. Probably just the air here.

“Magic…” he muttered. His grin stretched wide. “I wonder if I can use magic. Fireball! Kamehameha! Hadouken!”

Nothing. Not even sparks.

“Alright, alright, calm down. Basics first. Slimes. Then fireballs. Easy.”

He adjusted his grip on the axe and took a step forward.

The sound was soft, but there—a faint jiggle.

His brows furrowed. He froze, looked around. Nothing moved.

He took another step.

Jiggle.

Subaru’s face twitched. “Wait a second…”

Slowly, carefully, he looked down at himself.

The stockings hugged his legs. The skirt swayed faintly in the wind. But higher up…

His throat went dry.

Two rounded shapes pressed against the front of his dress.

“No way…”

He lifted his trembling hand. His fingers were slender, delicate—nothing like the hands he remembered. He poked gently. The sensation shot straight through him like an electric current. His heart thumped hard.

He froze. Stared. Then poked again.

Foreign. Soft. Real.

“Oh… oh crap. No, no, no.”

His hand didn’t stop. It cupped. His eyes widened further.

“Don’t. Don’t do it, Subaru. Don’t—”

He squeezed.

The world tilted.

“Mhm—” His breath hitched. “N-nope! Nope! Too real! Way too real!”

He yanked his hands back like he’d touched a hot stove. His entire body shivered.

His mind raced.

“Wait wait wait… Did I just…? Am I in a… femboy’s body? That’d make sense, right? Right? Some girly boy with an axe? Yeah, that’s not too bad, I can roll with—”

The moonlight stretched long and pale across the ground, catching his shadow.

He saw it.

Short bob-cut hair, tied in neat twin tails. A silhouette smaller, slimmer than his own had ever been. But what made his blood freeze were the two shapes jutting from the head.

Horns.

Long, curved horns. Eight, maybe eleven inches, sharp and gleaming faintly under the moonlight.

“…huh?”

Subaru reached up slowly. His fingers brushed against smooth, hard bone. His stomach dropped.

“They’re real…” he whispered. His legs gave way, and he fell onto his butt. The impact didn’t hurt, but something else did.

The sensation between his thighs.

A hollow emptiness.

His eyes went wide. His hands shot down. He grabbed. He searched.

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

The blood drained from his face.

Subaru’s scream tore through the forest, high-pitched, shrill, and unmistakably girlish.

The sound startled birds from their branches, echoing across the trees. His own ears rang with the voice. That wasn’t his voice. That wasn’t him.

“Oh no no no no no—” he gasped, clutching his head. His twin tails bounced with the motion. His horns gleamed in the moonlight.

His entire body shook as he stared down at the dress, the stockings, the axe clutched so easily in his delicate hands.

This wasn’t just another world.

This was another body.

And his voice—his scream still lingering—was proof.

A girl’s.

 

Notes:

Since Sirius and Tahap wrote AuraBaru (they share the same braincell or maybe are the same person fooling us) and I already published a FriBaru fic, I knew I had to do something more. LinieBaru was in the list.

Then Eternal pinged me on Friday. With a new artwork. Another FemBaru! Well done—

Eternal: Mfw when I'm backtracking instead of actually making SatellaBaru.

Now that is rude, Eternal... I'll Zoltaarak him, for all eternity. Now I have created LinieBaru before him....hehehehe.

Regardless, here we are, with another FemBaru fic. Hehe~

Since it's a small first chapter, there will be frequent updates.

Chapter 2: Must Kill... Demons...

Summary:

LinineBaru meets Stark...

Chapter Text

The forest was still ringing with the echo of Subaru’s—no, her—scream. It bounced between the trees, fading into the distance like the cry of something wounded. Her hands trembled where they clutched her skirt, knuckles white, breath stuttering in shallow, uneven gasps.

 

“No. No, no, no, no, no.”

 

Her voice came out in that same high, lilting tone, like someone else was speaking through her mouth. She slapped her throat as if she could force the sound back into something familiar. “This—this isn’t my voice! Stop it! Stop sounding like that!”

 

She coughed, desperate, trying to speak deeper. “Ah—hah—uh—” It only came out squeaky.

 

Panic crawled up her spine, cold and sharp. Her chest rose and fell too fast, lungs unable to keep up. Every breath made her dizzy, every inhale louder in her ears than the last. She stumbled backward until her heel caught on a root and she collapsed to her knees.

 

“No, no, no! It’s just a dream! It’s a prank! It’s some weird… VR thing! It has to be!”

 

Her hands shook as she grabbed her horns again, pressing down, hoping they’d come off like props. They didn’t. The pressure only made her wince.

 

She stared at her fingers, delicate and pale. Her nails glinted faintly in the moonlight. Even they looked wrong.

 

Her chest tightened. Her breath caught halfway out. “This can’t—this can’t be real. I was just at the store! I was just—!”

 

Her voice broke. She clawed at the frilly neckline of the dress, pulling until the fabric bit into her fingers. The lace scratched her skin, but she didn’t care. She wanted to tear it off, to see if maybe her real body was hidden underneath, like a costume she could peel away.

 

Nothing. Just more smooth skin and the wrong curves beneath.

 

Her throat let out a strangled noise—half laugh, half sob. “I’m… I’m not even me anymore…”

 

The words didn’t sound right in her mouth. She squeezed her head between her hands, pressing so hard it hurt, as if she could crush the confusion out of her skull. “Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up!”

 

No alarm. No sunlight. Just the chirp of night insects and the hum of wind.

 

“Damn it!” She slammed her fists into the ground. The dirt gave beneath her, soft and cold. Her fingers dug deep until soil packed beneath her nails. She dragged them across the earth in frustration, tearing lines through the moss. “Why… why me?! Who did this?!”

 

Tears burned her eyes, hot and furious, but she refused to let them fall. She pressed the back of her hand against her face, trying to wipe away the tremor in her lips. Her breathing came faster again, every inhale sharp and ragged.

 

The forest spun. She felt sick.

 

She wanted to scream again, but even that took too much effort. Her throat ached from the earlier outburst.

 

Her body trembled with each uneven breath until finally, she just collapsed backward, the axe slipping from her grasp and landing beside her with a soft thud.

 

The world swayed above her.

 

The sky stretched endlessly, filled with alien constellations that twinkled like mocking eyes. None of them were the stars she knew. The Big Dipper, Orion, all gone. Replaced by strange clusters and lines that spelled out a universe that had never once seen her face.

 

Her chest rose and fell slowly now, exhaustion replacing panic. Her hands lay limp beside her, streaked with dirt. The night breeze brushed her hair, cool against her tear-wet cheeks.

 

She stared at the stars for what felt like forever, her eyes unfocused.

 

It wasn’t just a change of scenery. It wasn’t just another world.

 

Her voice was gone. Her body was gone. Her gender. Her species. Everything.

 

A low, breathless laugh escaped her lips. It wasn’t joy. It was disbelief, the hollow kind that came when reality had gone too far for the mind to follow.

 

“…Who… did this to me?” she whispered.

 

The forest didn’t answer.

 

Only the leaves whispered back, and the stars kept on shining—strange, distant, and utterly indifferent.

 

The moon looked too calm for the mess of feelings boiling inside her. Subaru let out a sound that was half sob, half laugh, and curled inward until she could feel the cool earth press against her back. Dirt clung to her dress, to the stockings, to the skin of her hands. Her shoulders shook.

 

“I don’t want this,” she whispered, though the word felt foreign in her mouth. “I don’t want boobs, I don’t want a cute face, I don’t want—any of this. I want my stupid flat chest back. Give me back my weenie! Give me Subaru Jr. back! I want—” Her voice broke. The rest dissolved into a ragged cry.

 

Images she loved—her mother’s cooking, her dad’s annoying jokes, that cramped little room she slept in—flashed behind her eyelids like a movie trailer. The ache for them clawed up her throat and turned into fresh, hot tears. “I want to go home,” she said, small and raw. “I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask for horns or a dress or… or whatever this is.”

 

She hugged her knees close, trying to make herself smaller, to hide from the world and the new body that felt like a stranger’s. The axe lay a little distance away, half-buried in moss. For a moment she let herself sink into the grief, letting it roll over her like a tide. Her breaths were shallow, her limbs heavy.

 

Then, quick and sharp as a slap, she smacked the side of her face with the heel of her hand. The sound cracked in the quiet night. “Wake up, you idiot,” she hissed. “There’s no time for sitting around crying. Crying won’t fix this. Crying won’t hand you back your—” Her lips twisted. She couldn’t get the word out cleanly. “—your man bits.”

 

Her palm lingered against her cheek. Tears dried and came back in new lines. She rubbed at her face until the stinging made her focus. The world narrowed down to the moon, the trees, the little patch of ground beneath her. The panic still threatened, but the slap had done its job: thought by thought, she shoved the worst of it into a corner and put a lid on it for now.

 

“Okay,” she said aloud, the voice small but steadier. “No time to waste. Wallow later.” She tried to make herself sound confident and found it sounded more like a half-baked promise. “For now—shelter. Food. Sleep. Questions come after.”

 

She forced herself up. The motion felt odd. Her center of gravity was all wrong—her hips, her chest, the balance of weight that used to be familiar were rearranged like furniture in a house she didn’t recognize. She swayed once, then gripped a low branch to steady herself. The dress flared when she moved; the stockings squeaked faintly where fabric rubbed fabric. Her chest had no support—no old comfortable armor of flatness—and the feeling of loose skin and movement made her stomach churn.

 

“My entire center of gravity is different,” she mumbled, more to herself than anyone. She tested a step, then another. “Is there nothing supporting my chest? Ugh.” Her fingers fluttered at the neckline for a second, awkward and protective, then she shoved them deep into her pockets—if the dress had pockets, they were just big enough. The action felt childish and brought a ridiculous little heat of embarrassment to her cheeks.

 

She walked to the axe, every step measured, and picked it up again. The handle fit into her hands like it belonged here—like it had always belonged here—and that tiny, ridiculous consolation made her snort. She dusted moss from the blade with the back of her hand. Dirt flecked her nails. Her movements were clumsy but practiced; she’d done worse with less experience.

 

“There,” she said, standing up straight even though the posture felt strange. “See? Not dead. Can still hold an axe. I can still hit things. That’s—useful.” She glared at the trees as if the pines had ears and would be ashamed of themselves for conspiring. “I’ll deal with the rest later. Pronouns, identity, fashion choices—all of it. Later.”

 

Her voice wobbled once, then gained a rasp of brittle humor. “Even mentally calling myself ‘she’ makes me sick,” she admitted to the silent forest. She picked at a loose thread on the hem as though it might be a leash to pull her back to normal. “But whatever. I’ll cope. I’ll be a… temporary she. Temporary Subaru. Temporary horned thing. Temporary frilly hat—whatever.”

 

She tested the axe a few times against a low stump. The effort made a pleasant clunking sound and turned her anger into motion. Anger was easier to manage than panic, cleaner somehow. It gave her a target other than the impossible emptiness where her old life used to be.

 

“I swear,” she muttered, breath cold in the night. Her eyes flashed up to the stars—foreign constellations glittering like someone else’s roadmap. “Whoever did this—whoever plucked me out of my world and glued all this on me—I will make you pay. If you’re some prankster demon, a witch, a pissed-off spirit, some immortal bird—” Her lip curled. “Even if you’re a immortal phoenix or whatever, I’ll find you.”

 

She had to laugh at how ridiculous she sounded, and the laugh was a tiny, ugly thing, but it helped. She swiped at her cheeks again, gathering herself into a shape she recognized. She pushed the sleeves up a little, revealing forearms that looked more like hers than anything else. Dirt smudged the skin. That, at least, felt honest.

 

“First things first,” she told herself. “Find shelter. Don’t freeze. Don’t get eaten by a bear or befriend a talking frog or some nonsense.” The list in her head was a mess of fears and small plans: start a fire, check for food, find water, keep the axe handy, don’t trust anyone who calls her ‘cute’ without permission. She blinked when the last one floated up, suddenly very wary of kindness.

 

She took a breath that was more determined than calm. The trees seemed to lean in, listening. A breeze played with her twin tails and teased the horns. For a flash, for a single heartbeat, the absurdity of the image—Subaru with horns, in a frilly dress, clutching an axe like a very confused lumberjack—hit her, and she couldn’t help but let out a small, incredulous bark of laughter.

 

“Fine,” she said, mouth full of moss-scented air. “You win, weird universe. But this isn’t the end. Not for me.” She shouldered the axe like a soldier and started walking, boots barely making noise on the soft soil. With each step she felt a hairline of resolve harden into something like a plan.

 

“I’ll sleep somewhere safe tonight,” she murmured into the dark. “And tomorrow? Tomorrow I start hunting answers. If it’s a demon, a witch, or an immortal chicken, I’ll drag them out by their feathers.”

 

Her breath steamed in the night as she moved. Tears still promised to come at odd moments, and the ache for home sat like a rock in her chest, but she had traded the sharp, cliff-edge panic for a duller, steadier thing: fierce, stubborn purpose.

 

“Whoever did this,” she said one last time to the empty trees, to the indifferent stars, to the moon that looked like it had seen stranger things and didn’t care, “you messed with the wrong Subaru.”

The forest didn’t change much no matter how far Subaru walked. Trees, endless trees, gnarled and ancient, their branches tangled like old spider webs. The air was thick with damp moss and the faint smell of pine, her boots squishing softly over the soil. Every now and then she’d stop to listen—maybe a river, a campfire, a monster grunt—but nothing came. Only her own breathing filled the silence.

She sighed, dragging her axe behind her, the blade cutting shallow trails through the dirt. “Nothing. Not even a stupid slime.” Her voice echoed faintly, swallowed by the trees. “What kind of fantasy world doesn’t even have tutorial mobs?”

Hunger gnawed faintly at her stomach. Her arms felt heavy. She considered sitting down but quickly shook the thought away. She’d been walking for what felt like hours—still no signs of people, roads, or even smoke. Not even animal prints.

“Great. I’m the main character of ‘Lost: Forest Edition.’” She exhaled sharply, tilting her head back to glare at the foreign stars. “I swear, if this is some kind of purgatory, I’m suing someone.”

She was about to drop onto a mossy rock and give up for a bit when something red flickered in her peripheral vision.

Her steps slowed.

There—between the roots of an old oak—lay a shape.

Her breath hitched. “...Wait.”

A boy.

He was sprawled on the ground, face half-hidden by dirt and blood. His red hair glowed faintly under the moonlight, sticky with dried blood. His jacket—dark crimson with torn sleeves—was soaked through. He looked young, maybe her age, maybe younger. Black pants, heavy boots, and beside him, an axe.

An axe like hers.

“Oh crap…” Subaru’s eyes widened. “No way. He must be—he must be the teammate of this body’s original owner! Or… or maybe another victim of this cosmic joke.”

She didn’t waste time thinking. She rushed toward him, kneeling beside his body, the skirt brushing against mud and leaves. “Hey, hey! You’re bleeding!” She paused and groaned. “Ugh, of course you’re bleeding, what kind of dumb talk is that…”

Her eyes darted over him—no obvious bandages, no signs of life except the faint rise and fall of his chest. “Uh… right, healing! Every fantasy world has healing spells, right?” She lifted her hand above him dramatically. “Heal!”

Nothing happened.

“Okay, okay, maybe it’s about conviction or something.” She frowned harder. “Heal!”

Still nothing.

“Damn it!” Her voice cracked. “What kind of cheap system is this?! I can’t even heal my own—”

She stopped when she heard a faint sound escape his lips.

Her head snapped down. “Huh? What are you saying?” She leaned closer, tilting her ear toward his mouth. “Come again? I can’t hear—”

Shink.

Something cold sliced through the air by her neck.

Her breath caught.

For a second, the world seemed to lose gravity. The forest twisted. Her stomach floated. She was—weightless?

Her eyes fluttered open.

She was standing.

Still standing. A few meters away from where she had just knelt. The boy still lay there, bleeding, unmoving.

“What… what the hell?” she whispered. Her fingers brushed her neck instinctively—no blood, no cut. Just smooth skin and a faint chill.

Was that… a vision? A hallucination? Her heart pounded in her chest.

“Okay… okay, not freaking out again.” She took a shaky breath. “Maybe I’m just tired. Yeah. That’s it. Sleep deprivation and trauma equals—hallucinations. Great. Totally normal.”

She gripped the axe tighter and stepped forward again. The boy hadn’t moved. The same dirt, the same smell of blood.

She knelt, cautious this time, voice trembling but determined. “Hey, hey! You’re bleeding… yeah, I know, déjà vu. Ugh, this feels way too familiar.”

Her voice faltered. “Do I have healing powers? Heal! Still nothing? Okay, cool, game hates me.”

She frowned and leaned closer once more, trying to catch whatever mumble came from his lips.

But this time, something shifted.

The boy’s fingers twitched. His body stirred.

Her eyes widened as he suddenly crouched up, barely standing, blood dripping from his chin. In his trembling hand was his axe—raised, ready to strike.

“What the—hey! What are you doing?!” Subaru yelped, jumping back instinctively. She leaped a full meter—holy crap, she could jump like that?! Her boots skidded against dirt as she stumbled to steady herself.

The boy’s eyes locked onto her. They were cloudy, half-mad, but full of hate.

“…demon…” he rasped, voice shredded from blood and rage. “Must… kill you…”

Subaru froze, staring, mouth dry.

What? Demon? Her?

Her grip on the axe tightened.

Was this… her first quest?

The boy lunged.

To Be Continued

Chapter 3: Die, Faker

Summary:

Liniebaru realises the gap...

Stark kills her. Over and over again.

Chapter Text

The forest didn’t change much no matter how far Subaru walked. Trees, endless trees, gnarled and ancient, their branches tangled like old spider webs. The air was thick with damp moss and the faint smell of pine, her boots squishing softly over the soil. Every now and then she’d stop to listen—maybe a river, a campfire, a monster grunt—but nothing came. Only her own breathing filled the silence.

 

She sighed, dragging her axe behind her, the blade cutting shallow trails through the dirt. “Nothing. Not even a stupid slime.” Her voice echoed faintly, swallowed by the trees. “What kind of fantasy world doesn’t even have tutorial mobs?”

 

Hunger gnawed faintly at her stomach. Her arms felt heavy. She considered sitting down but quickly shook the thought away. She’d been walking for what felt like hours—still no signs of people, roads, or even smoke. Not even animal prints.

 

“Great. I’m the main character of ‘Lost: Forest Edition.’” She exhaled sharply, tilting her head back to glare at the foreign stars. “I swear, if this is some kind of purgatory, I’m suing someone.”

 

She was about to drop onto a mossy rock and give up for a bit when something red flickered in her peripheral vision.

 

Her steps slowed.

 

There—between the roots of an old oak—lay a shape.

 

Her breath hitched. “...Wait.”

 

A boy.

 

He was sprawled on the ground, face half-hidden by dirt and blood. His red hair glowed faintly under the moonlight, sticky with dried blood. His jacket—dark crimson with torn sleeves—was soaked through. He looked young, maybe her age, maybe younger. Black pants, heavy boots, and beside him, an axe.

 

An axe like hers.

 

“Oh crap…” Subaru’s eyes widened. “No way. He must be—he must be the teammate of this body’s original owner! Or… or maybe another victim of this cosmic joke.”

 

She didn’t waste time thinking. She rushed toward him, kneeling beside his body, the skirt brushing against mud and leaves. “Hey, hey! You’re bleeding!” She paused and groaned. “Ugh, of course you’re bleeding, what kind of dumb talk is that…”

 

Her eyes darted over him—no obvious bandages, no signs of life except the faint rise and fall of his chest. “Uh… right, healing! Every fantasy world has healing spells, right?” She lifted her hand above him dramatically. “Heal!”

 

Nothing happened.

 

“Okay, okay, maybe it’s about conviction or something.” She frowned harder. “Heal!”

 

Still nothing.

 

“Damn it!” Her voice cracked. “What kind of cheap system is this?! I can’t even heal my own—”

 

She stopped when she heard a faint sound escape his lips.

 

Her head snapped down. “Huh? What are you saying?” She leaned closer, tilting her ear toward his mouth. “Come again? I can’t hear—”

 

Shink.

 

Something cold sliced through the air by her neck.

 

Her breath caught.

 

For a second, the world seemed to lose gravity. The forest twisted. Her stomach floated. She was—weightless?

 

Her eyes fluttered open.

 

She was standing.

 

Still standing. A few meters away from where she had just knelt. The boy still lay there, bleeding, unmoving.

 

“What… what the hell?” she whispered. Her fingers brushed her neck instinctively—no blood, no cut. Just smooth skin and a faint chill.

 

Was that… a vision? A hallucination? Her heart pounded in her chest.

 

“Okay… okay, not freaking out again.” She took a shaky breath. “Maybe I’m just tired. Yeah. That’s it. Sleep deprivation and trauma equals—hallucinations. Great. Totally normal.”

 

She gripped the axe tighter and stepped forward again. The boy hadn’t moved. The same dirt, the same smell of blood.

 

She knelt, cautious this time, voice trembling but determined. “Hey, hey! You’re bleeding… yeah, I know, déjà vu. Ugh, this feels way too familiar.”

 

Her voice faltered. “Do I have healing powers? Heal! Still nothing? Okay, cool, game hates me.”

 

She frowned and leaned closer once more, trying to catch whatever mumble came from his lips.

 

But this time, something shifted.

 

The boy’s fingers twitched. His body stirred.

 

Her eyes widened as he suddenly crouched up, barely standing, blood dripping from his chin. In his trembling hand was his axe—raised, ready to strike.

 

“What the—hey! What are you doing?!” Subaru yelped, jumping back instinctively. She leaped a full meter—holy crap, she could jump like that?! Her boots skidded against dirt as she stumbled to steady herself.

 

The boy’s eyes locked onto her. They were cloudy, half-mad, but full of hate.

 

“…demon…” he rasped, voice shredded from blood and rage. “Must… kill you…”

 

Subaru froze, staring, mouth dry.

 

What? Demon? Her?

 

Her grip on the axe tightened.

 

Was this… her first quest?

 

The boy lunged.

 

The boy’s axe came whistling through the air—too fast, too sharp, too real. Subaru jerked her body back, feet tripping over the roots beneath her, the heavy swing missing her by a hair’s breadth. Her new limbs felt wrong, heavy, clumsy. She wasn’t used to the weight of the axe at her side, or the strength—or lack of it—within this body. Every movement was a second too slow, every breath too quick.

 

“Wait—wait—hold on—!” she shouted, raising her hands uselessly.

 

But then came the flash.

 

The world tilted. Something cold, impossibly thin, kissed the side of her neck—and before she even processed it, her vision lurched. The forest spun, trees bending sideways in a swirl of light and shadow. Her mouth moved, but no sound came out. Her vision dipped lower, lower… until she saw her own headless body stumble and collapse a few feet away, blood painting the snow beneath like crimson ink spilled from a broken bottle.

 

What the—?

 

Her mind screamed, but her voice had nowhere to go. There was no throat, no lungs—only a disembodied awareness fading, slipping. Her sight blurred into black mist.

 

That’s my… body…? she thought numbly, watching her body’s hand twitch once, twice, before it dissolved into a cloud of dark ether, scattering into the air like smoke pulled apart by the wind. The same black dust began creeping over her sight.

 

Her last thought before it swallowed her completely was—

Huh… I died? That’s… bullshit.

 

And then—nothing.

 

When Subaru blinked again, she was standing. Her breath hitched. The trees were back. The air was crisp, cold. Her boots were half-sunk in the same patch of dirt she remembered standing on before.

 

And in front of her—

 

The boy.

 

Still lying on the ground. Still bleeding. Still half-conscious, his red jacket soaked through, his axe glinting beside him.

 

Subaru’s breath came out in a shaky gasp. “What the hell…” She stumbled backward, clutching her chest. Her hands were trembling. She could feel her heartbeat again. “Did I… just… die?”

 

The forest gave no answer. Only the rustling wind, and the faint wet sound of the boy coughing up blood.

 

No, this wasn’t right. This wasn’t possible. There wasn’t even time to think before she saw him push himself up again, weakly gripping his axe.

 

“Demons…” he croaked, blood running down his chin. His eyes burned with something raw and unreasoning. “You… must die.”

 

Subaru froze, every part of her screaming to run—but her mouth moved faster than her legs.

 

“Hold on! Hold on! I wasn’t even a demon a few hours ago! And—wait—don’t tell me—you remember killing me?!”

 

He didn’t answer. Didn’t even hesitate. His stare was glassy, cold, like someone lost too deep in instinct to listen. The axe lifted.

 

“Oh come on—!”

 

She spun on her heel and bolted. Branches whipped past, leaves cracked underfoot. Her breaths came fast, sharp, ragged. The unfamiliar weight of her axe banged against her leg as she ran, almost tripping her. She swung it behind her wildly, not to hit him but to keep him away, flailing like someone swatting at a swarm of bees.

 

“Stay back! Stay the hell back! I swear I’ll—uh—I’ll do something dangerous!”

 

Her threats were pathetic, her footing worse. The forest blurred past—green, brown, black—then she heard it. A soft crunch behind her.

 

Too close.

 

She turned—and he was there.

 

Right in front of her.

 

The same dead eyes, the same expressionless glare. He raised the axe, his voice a low snarl.

 

“Your acting won’t fool me.”

 

She barely had time to scream before he finished,

 

“Die, faker.”

 

The axe came down.

 

There was no pain, just a tearing flash. Her world split in two. She could see her own body coming apart, blood blooming like a grotesque flower across the white frost of the forest floor. Her mind went silent, the world went quiet, and her last thought—fleeting, absurd—was not again—

 

Darkness.

 

Then, a blink.

 

And she was back.

 

Standing.

 

Breathing.

 

The trees were still. The air was cold. The boy—still lying there.

 

Exactly the same.

 

Subaru’s mouth fell open. “Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me…”

 

Her hands were shaking so violently she almost dropped the axe. The memory of being split in half—of watching her own blood soak the earth—was burned into her bones. And yet, here she was, whole. Alive. Again.

 

Her heart raced so loud she could hear it.

 

“What the fuck is happening to me…” she whispered.

 

The boy groaned faintly. That same sound. The same motion. The same way his hand reached for the axe.

 

No. No way.

 

This wasn’t déjà vu anymore. This was a trap. A loop. A nightmare stuck on replay.

 

She took a step back, trembling, her mind spinning.

 

So when I die… I go back here?

 

The thought lodged itself in her brain, cold and terrifying. Her throat tightened.

 

The boy sat up again, slow, deliberate. Blood smeared his face as his dull eyes lifted toward her.

 

“Demons…”

 

Subaru’s breath hitched.

 

“…you must die.”

 

The exact same words. Same tone. Same moment.

 

She laughed—a short, hysterical sound. “Oh, come on! Again?!” She threw her hands up, shaking. “Look, if this is your thing, fine, but can’t you at least explain first before chopping me into mincemeat?!”

 

No response. Just the dull glint of steel as he gripped the axe.

 

Her legs twitched with the urge to flee. But something else—something colder—settled inside her.

 

This wasn’t just coincidence. Whatever was happening, she was stuck. Every time she died, she came back here. That meant—if she didn’t figure out why, she’d just keep dying. Over and over.

 

She gritted her teeth. “Okay, Subaru… think. You’re the protagonist now, right? Yeah, sure, of course you are. Classic isekai bullshit. So, what’s the play? You can’t fight him. You can’t run far. And you sure as hell can’t keep dying.”

 

The boy started to rise.

 

“Shit—okay, no time for the smart plan!”

 

She turned and sprinted again, every step awkward and desperate, boots slamming against the dirt. Her lungs burned. Her body—this body—was weak, unfamiliar, but her will to survive was the same as ever.

 

She dodged between trees, ducked under branches, swung her axe behind her in panicked arcs.

 

“Stop chasing me, you psycho lumberjack!”

 

But the forest echoed with his footsteps, steady, relentless. He wasn’t even running—just walking, yet somehow keeping pace.

 

Subaru’s mind reeled.

 

How do you kill someone who already killed you twice?

 

Her legs faltered. Her vision blurred. Her breathing turned ragged.

 

She looked back—nothing. No sight of him.

 

Then a shadow moved.

 

He stepped out from the side of a tree, axe in hand, eyes hollow.

 

The moment stretched. She barely had time to curse.

 

“Wait, wait, WAIT—!”

 

The axe arced again.

 

And the world went black.

 

Then she blinked.

 

She was back.

 

Again.

The wind whispered through the forest again, soft and cold. The smell of pine. The crunch of frost beneath her boots.

 

And the boy, lying on the ground. Bleeding. Red hair. Red jacket. The same damned scene.

 

Subaru didn’t move at first. She just stood there, staring. Her heart pounded like a drum, but her mind felt… hollow. The silence pressed against her ears, thick and heavy.

 

Then it hit her all at once.

 

Her knees gave out. She dropped to the ground, axe clattering beside her.

 

“No…” she breathed. “No, no, no—this isn’t real. It can’t be real.”

 

Her voice cracked, the sound trembling through the empty forest. She pressed her shaking hands to her face, nails digging into her skin. Her whole body trembled, cold sweat sliding down her neck.

 

“I died… I died… twice—” She looked up, eyes wide, unfocused. “And I’m back again? Why? How?! What did I even do?!”

 

Her words fell apart into broken sobs.

 

It wasn’t just fear—it was disbelief. The kind of madness that gnawed at your sanity, slow and quiet, until you couldn’t tell if you were awake anymore.

 

A cough. Wet. Familiar.

 

Subaru’s head snapped up.

 

The boy. The same boy. Lifting his head, blood dripping down his chin. His breath was ragged, his eyes dull with fury and confusion.

 

“Demons…” he rasped, voice trembling. “You must die…”

 

Subaru stumbled backward, shaking her head, eyes brimming with tears. “No! No, don’t—you don’t understand! I’m not a demon! I’m not even— I didn’t even want this!” Her voice broke into a desperate yell. “Do you even remember me?! You killed me! Twice! You split me in half, you cut off my head! How the hell do you not remember?!”

 

He said nothing.

 

He just reached for his axe again.

 

Her breath hitched, her heart plummeting into her stomach.

 

“Please…” she whispered, voice trembling. “Please don’t do this again…”

 

He lunged.

 

Her legs moved before she could think, instincts screaming for her to run. She turned and fled, tears blurring her vision. The trees warped around her as she sprinted, lungs burning, body shaking.

 

The sound of footsteps—closer, heavier.

 

“Stop following me!” she screamed, swinging her axe wildly behind her. “I don’t even know what’s happening!”

 

The tears wouldn’t stop. They streaked her cheeks, hot and stinging, mixing with the cold air that cut against her skin.

 

Every step hurt. Every sound made her flinch.

 

She stumbled over a root, crashing to the ground, dirt smearing across her palms. She gasped for breath, curling in on herself.

 

“This isn’t fair…” she choked out. “Why me? I didn’t ask for this… I just wanted to— I just wanted to understand where I was…”

 

The crunch of boots drew near.

 

She lifted her head, eyes wide with terror.

 

He stood there again. His silhouette framed against the dim light cutting through the trees. The axe gleamed dully in his hands.

 

“Your acting won’t fool me,” he said, voice low and distant, like he wasn’t even there. “Die, faker.”

 

Her lips quivered. “Please don’t—”

 

The axe came down.

 

Her world split open.

 

Pain burst like fire through her chest. Her mouth opened in a scream, but no sound came out. The world dimmed. Her fingers twitched. The smell of blood filled her nose. Her sight cracked apart, fading into black.

 

Not again… please…

 

Darkness swallowed her.

 

She blinked.

 

Cold air. The same trees. The same ground. The same boy.

 

Everything the same.

 

Again.

 

“No…” she whimpered, voice breaking. “No, not again… please not again…”

 

Her body shook violently as she clutched her head, the tears spilling freely now.

 

“I can’t— I can’t keep doing this—”

 

Her thoughts tangled in panic and despair. Her heart felt too big for her chest, beating against her ribs like it wanted to break free.

 

The boy coughed again, and the sound tore through her like a knife.

 

She looked up, wide-eyed. He was moving again, repeating the same motion, the same sick rhythm as before.

 

“Demons…”

 

Subaru’s mind screamed stop, but her body wouldn’t move.

 

He reached for his axe.

 

“Demons must die.”

 

“No!” she screamed, backing away on trembling legs. “I can’t do this anymore!”

 

But he rose to his feet anyway, staggering forward.

 

Her breath came in ragged gasps. The world blurred through tears. She swung her axe again, weakly, wildly.

 

“Just—just stay away! Please!”

 

He advanced, slow, inevitable.

 

Her arms gave out. She fell back against a tree, chest heaving, tears running down her cheeks in hot rivers.

 

“I don’t even know who I am anymore…” she whispered, voice breaking between sobs. “I didn’t mean to take this body… I didn’t even want to be here… I just—”

 

He was in front of her.

 

“Your acting won’t fool me.”

 

Her breath hitched. Her fingers tightened weakly around the axe. “Please…”

 

“Die, faker.”

 

The blade flashed.

 

Cold. Pain. Blackness.

 

Then nothing.

 

When Subaru opened her eyes again, she didn’t scream.

 

She just stood there. Still. Silent.

 

Her eyes were dull now, the tears dried but her expression hollow. She turned her head slowly toward the boy’s prone figure, lying in the dirt again.

 

Her voice came out hoarse, cracked. “So this is it, huh…? My personal hell.”

 

Her hand trembled as she reached for the axe, not even sure why. Maybe to fight. Maybe to end it faster. Maybe because she didn’t know what else to do.

 

She laughed—a quiet, broken laugh that didn’t sound human anymore. “How many times am I gonna die before I lose it completely, huh?”

 

The forest didn’t answer.

 

But she already knew.

 

The boy stirred again.

 

And Subaru began to cry all over, soft and hopeless, because she knew exactly what would come next.

Notes:

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