Henry Legolant was six when he moved to the Common Realm.

His parents told him that it was for his illness. At first he thought that he was going to see a doctor, or that the country air was supposed to help him or something like that. Eventually he realized that it was just to keep him away from people back home. He didn't mind so much, until it slowly began to dawn on him that it was supposed to be forever.

His parents stayed with him for the first few weeks; his mother stayed behind a few extra days before leaving him with the servants. After that they still came by frequently, alternating their visits so that he was never more than a few days from seeing one of them. His siblings' visits were far rarer and shorter. They had less mana, which meant that his curse affected them more seriously. His old friends from the Noble Realm never visited. He missed them.

But still, it wasn't all bad at first. He still had his nurses to take care of him when his parents weren't around. There were two, and like his parents they would alternate which day that they saw him so that his condition wouldn't harm them too much. After a while that changed; now each would work half a day as the job became more draining. Sometimes they seemed fatigued as they interacted with him.

One day one of them fainted. After that they both vanished. There was significant turnover throughout the years, until eventually his parents took over all of the work themselves, even though they still only came by every few days.

Henry himself got worse as time went on. When he first came to the Common Realm he was fairly normal, able to walk around and play without getting too winded. By the time he was a teenager he was pretty much confined to bed. Getting his grimoire did soften that blow a bit. In many ways Recombination Magic was perfect for someone like him—even when he was too weak to get up he could just summon the bathroom or the kitchen into his bedside, giving him a bit of independence when nobody else was around.

But he was desperately lonely. His parents seemed more distracted and harried every time that they came by, and Henry longed for someone new. He wanted a peer. He wanted a friend.

And of course, he got weaker without someone else to draw mana from. But he could endure the illness. He just doesn't want to do it alone.

Three days passed without either of his parents visiting. Then four, then a week, two weeks…

He ran out of food. His mana was drained. He slept almost constantly and was in agony when he woke up. He felt like he was being punished for not appreciating his parents' visits enough, for daring to want a little bit more.

He spent hours listening to the silence of the house. Sometimes he would hear a small noise in another room and bring it to him, just to see if there was somebody in it. Soon he was too weak for that. He just laid there, stewing in misery.

On one level, Henry understood. On another, he found himself sobbing in righteous fury. It just wasn't fair. He didn't ask for this. Surely someone wanted to help him, didn't they? He didn't even question that he would die soon, but his parents, his siblings, a servant, someone would at least come and hold his hand as he passed, right?

Yami Sukehiro wasn't the hand-holding type. He was too practical. He came with a solution.

Henry is still confined to his room most of the time. He's never even met most of the other Black Bulls. The only one who comes by to see him is Asta, and Henry can't even begin to say how much he treasures those visits. He asks about the home's other residents, and Asta is always happy to regale him with news of their latest exploits.

So as he lies in bed and listens to them celebrating in another part of the house, he smiles. He feels alive, and not just from the magical energy that they feed into his body. He's not alone anymore.

He can endure exile and sickness, as long as he has friends.