The Binding Vow of Lazarus

Chapter 100

Fate. That was the word rattling around in his skull since he'd seen that memory. It was a word he hated the concept of in all of its variations. Destiny, Calling, Purpose, and, ugh, Soul Mates? Lately especially, to no one's surprise, Satoru had spent some time rethinking his opinion on love and what it meant to seek it — and what it meant to have and keep it more importantly. But fate? Fate shouldn't be the root cause.

Besides, there was a gaping hole in the events! If their vow was broken back at the temple, shouldn't it have torn them apart? It should have made them recoil from each other — souls should have snapped back to equilibrium like rubber bands. Instead, when it broke, he hadn't pushed her away he'd only started wanted her then, he come to realize. He'd chased her even harder when she chose to try to pull away, without even realizing he'd been doing it.

His jaw tensed and a grimace tugged at the corners of his mouth as the memory slid sharp as glass across his mind. He'd been so irrational when it happened and it felt so odd, thinking back on it, but could that have been the negative backlash from the vow breaking? No one had done anything wrong in that moment, yet he'd reacted like a moron.

Then, not long after, she was starting to pull away. What was she thinking then? It would make sense for her to try to escape whatever was happening between them. It was confusing for him too, and she was going through an insane amount of change at the same time. He was with Suguru, which couldn't have felt good for her, but she was trying to be with Haibara and... all he could think about was how she didn't want to love him anymore. He never could've allowed that to happen.

He rubbed the back of his neck, clicking his tongue. To the edge of time itself, I'll chase after you... blah blah blah. He remembered the corny words he'd spoken, how her voice had hitched as the vow tugged at her chest. His own ribs had felt it too, like a weight pulling against his freedom. He hadn't minded at the time. It was her, after all. He would've promised her the world in that moment if she'd asked.

But now...

"What the hell do I do with that?" he muttered.

The whole thing gnawed at him, leaving him stuck on one damn question: was his love for Sarah real, or was it just the need to fill what the vow had left empty. At first, he laughed at himself. What kind of idiot thinks like that? But then the unease started to settle in, deep and horribly insistent. Because freedom was everything and if he didn't even choose this, then what did that leave him?

And worst of all — if love could be bound and broken like a technique, then was love really anything more than another curse to be manipulated — "the most twisted curse of all" as he'd said before? He hated thinking like that. It made his chest feel hollow.

Maybe it wasn't about the vow. Maybe the real proof was what happened after.

He thought back to that time, to Sarah leaning closer to her boyfriend, to the way she had tried to pull away from him like any reasonable person would. He could've let her go, and really he should've let her go. He'd chased her anyway because he wanted her, plain and simple. They got along so well! They liked the same stupid jokes and the same stupid foods and the same shows and games! That wasn't even getting to the romance junk! Just based on that alone, he could have chosen to stay with her.

He smirked faintly, tilting his head back. That's freedom, isn't it? Choosing her when he didn't have to?

Still, he couldn't fully shake the doubt. His worldview was too broad. He knew better than anyone that nothing in life was untouched by outside forces. People were products of curses, bloodlines, trauma, chance. Would she have still come to him without the vow? What if his last life had her in it? Would that have made it drag into this one as well or would that hole in his chest be satisfied?