"What a to-do to die today, at a minute or two to two;
a thing distinctly hard to say, but harder still to do.
We'll beat a tattoo, at twenty to two;
a rat-tat-tat- tat-tat-tat- tat-tat-tattoo.
And the dragon will come when he hears the drum,
at a minute or two to two today, at a minute or two to two—"
Rimuru was reciting the old tongue-twister again. Something he remembered from when he was still human, way back on Earth. He didn't remember where he heard it, or why it stuck, but it always came to mind when he needed a distraction—when he needed something, anything, to pull him out of his own head.
It worked like a charm nine times out of ten.
"Can you, like, not? Not here, at least. Please."
Hajime was hunched over his little bullet factory, hands moving about, feeding it materials and tinkering with the enchantments. His face was pale, but his eyes burned with that familiar stubborn fire.
"Uhm, okay. Yeah. Totally."
They were in a time-decelerated chamber—Rimuru's design with Kaori's assistance—so the three days they had left could be stretched, squeezed, and wrung dry of every last second before the supposed gates to heaven open and the army of the gods come down to slaughter everything and bathe the surface in blood and dust and tears.
And here they were, killing time with guns and tongue-twisters.
"How you holding up, Hajime?"
"Good," he replied, not taking his eyes off of his little bullet-factory capable of mass-producing thousands of ammunitions per couple minutes. "Not as good as you, though."
Ouch.
"I'll have you know that's offensive," Rimuru rolled his eyes. "I may not have lost a vampire girlfriend slash (/) love of my life but I'm not exactly in a situation to say I'm having fun."
That shut him up a bit. Rimuru wasn't sure if Hajime didn't have a comeback or if he just refused to give him the satisfaction. Either way, silence settled upon them. Rimuru thought a little 'thank you' wouldn't kill Hajime. Just two words for saving his ass, for pulling him back from whatever abyss he'd been about to unleash. But no, his pride was bigger than his gratitude, and Rimuru was the last person he'd admit weakness to, much less a thanks.
It was exhausting, always being the bigger person—
"Yaegashi seemed pretty worried about you, Rimuru."
—or not.
Rimuru's fingers twitched mid-toss with the ball he was playing with. He caught it anyway, kept the act going—throw, catch, throw, catch.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah?" he said. "You plan on doing anything about it?"
"What do you want me to do about it, Hajime?"
"...I don't know. Assure her? Say something? Aren't you two supposed to be close? Like, best of friends kind of close?"
That made Rimuru stop. He turned to Hajime fully for the first time since he walked in, the ball hovering in his hand. Hajime's eyes, for once, weren't glued to his machines. He was actually looking at Rimuru for the first time since he entered this little time chamber five hours ago.
"Did Kaori put you up to this?" Rimuru asked him.
"No comment," he simply replied.
"And suddenly you're uncharacteristically soft," Rimuru told him with what seemed to be an impassive face.
"And suddenly you're uncharacteristically insensitive. Did you guys have a fight or something?"
"Nothing that dramatic, no."
"Then what is it?"
Rimuru paused. The ball in his hand rolled to his palm, and he set it aside. It had been more than a day since the fiasco at the demon castle. Since Yue was taken. Since Hajime almost lost himself. And yet Rimuru hadn't made any effort to approach Shizuku whatsoever. She did try to check up on him from time to time but he was averting her away with half-assed responses to questions and whatnot.
"You know what it is, don't you?" Rimuru asked Hajime seriously.
"Yeah." He didn't hesitate, eyes dropping back to his work as if it was nothing. "Aren't you used to it? People falling for you? Friend or otherwise?"
"Oh?" Rimuru's lips curled into a smirk. "Is that an implication that you're in love with me, perchance?"
"Fuck you. Fuck no. And you can't just say perchance."
"What a shame~" Rimuru walked toward a couch, letting the soft cushion catch him as he let himself fall. "And yeah, I'm used to it. I may act like I'm dense as shit, but even I can tell what it means when Shizuku looks at me like she does. I ain't stupid."
"Nah, you do seem hilariously dumb. I'm honestly surprised it took you this long to even get a clue. Anyone would've gotten it ages ago. Are you sure you're alright up there?"
"Baseless assumptions aren't exactly my forte, dude."
Rimuru tried playing it off, trying to say he'd gotten the clue all along but just pretended otherwise, but then Hajime said something that really hurt his pride as a man.
"I don't think it's baseless. Wait, matter of fact, it was anything but baseless. You must not have a lot of experience in that regard, huh?"
"Can you not, like, judge me for one second?" Rimuru pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing into his hand. "Seriously."
Hajime didn't answer. The truth was simple. Rimuru knew. He'd known for a while. Shizuku's feelings weren't exactly subtle. And he also knew that if he let himself acknowledge them, really acknowledge them, it would mean opening a door he couldn't afford to open. Not now, or maybe not ever.
And so he deflected the issue. He brushed her off. He acted insensitive. Because it was easier to be the bastard than to let someone else bear the weight of what he carried.
And then the door opened.
"Rimuru? Nagumo-kun?"
Shizuku stepped inside carefully, like she wasn't sure if she was allowed to. She had that same calmness she always did, but her eyes betrayed her. There was worry in them.
Hajime glanced at her, then immediately stood up, wiping his hands. "I'll give you two a moment."
Hey!
What a bitch.
Then again, maybe just running away from this particular problem just served to reaffirm Rimuru's immaturity. The door shut behind Hajime, leaving Rimuru and Shizuku alone, and it was unbearably awkward.
"You've been... avoiding me, haven't you?" Shizuku said after a while.
"I've been avoiding everyone," Rimuru replied without looking at her. He balanced the ball on one finger, spun it lazily. "Don't take it personally. Even I need to refill something called a social battery."
"But I do take it personally. At—at least tell me beforehand. Do you have any idea how that feels?"
Rimuru tilted his head at her, feigning thoughtfulness. "Mm. Probably how Hajime feels whenever Yue ignores him for tea."
Her eyes narrowed. "This isn't a joke."
"Yeah. I know it isn't." Rimuru tossed the ball up, caught it, tossed it again. "And that's probably the problem."
She stepped closer, frustration flashing across her face. "Do you really expect me, or everyone, not to worry about what everything's been doing to you?"
Rimuru chuckled a low and humorless laugh. "You make it sound like I'm one bad day away from cracking."
"...Are you?"
Rimuru stopped tossing the ball. His eyes met hers, and for a second, just a second, he considered saying a maybe. That every smile, every quip, every offhand joke was just a little bit closer to scaffolding on a house that was already half-collapsed.
Okay, maybe it wasn't that exaggerated, but the point still stood. The past few weeks have been unbearably draining—there was no denying that.
So he just smiled. "I'm the strongest, Shizuku. I don't get the luxury of breaking."
Something in her snapped then. "...Do you even hear yourself? That's less strength and more loneliness, don't you think?"
Rimuru leaned back on the couch, stretching like it was all a big joke. "Well, better me than someone else, right? Besides, being alone doesn't necessarily mean being lonely."
Her fists clenched at her sides, but she said nothing more.
For a while, they just stood there—her, trying not to scream and him pretending he didn't have any worries about the coming conflict.
Then, Rimuru stood up suddenly, brushing imaginary dust off his coat. "Anyway, this has been fun. A real heart-to-heart. But I should probably check in on the others."
"Rimuru—"
He held up a hand, cutting her off, and forced a grin. "Save it. We'll talk later. Or not. Who knows. Just make sure you're alive, Shizuku. That's enough for me. We'll have a real talk once all this is over."
···—–—⚜—–—···
"You're an asshole back there, you know? Leaving me alone."
"If you think I'm an asshole for that, then you're even more of an asshole."
Things hadn't been going well for Hajime for the last few days.
He'd suffered many times in the past, endured and pushed through many obstacles, killed many powerful foes, massacred entire hordes of monstrous armies. But even a man as strong-willed and mighty as he was found himself powerless against the loss of the love of his life.
When Yue was taken away, his desire for revenge, the sheer magnitude of loss, the helplessness he felt, and the mockery of the defeat he suffered—all of it crystallized into one immeasurably strong desire to just end everything. In fact, the desire was so strong, it materialized into an all-erasing concept magic that even the Demon Lord Rimuru Tempest found a little troublesome to deal with.
After all, what good was there in a world without his beloved?
He might've been out of it at the time, or perhaps even fully unconscious, but there was no denying that he wanted to destroy everything at that point—and that's something not even he could deny. Fortunately for the world of Tortus, Rimuru Tempest was present and thus managed to swiftly avert the global crisis of a broken man wanting to drag everyone into the abyss of his heart and soul.
And now here they were, a little more than a day later, with Hajime still refusing to acknowledge what had almost happened.
"Have you heard of the theory of evolution?" Rimuru asked as they both walked along the cobblestone streets of Fuhren.
"Of course I have," Hajime replied, chewing on his lollipop with more aggression than the candy deserved. "What do you take me for? I may not have been the brightest in school but I at least know that much."
They were having what Rimuru generously called 'leisure time'—though it was less leisure and more Rimuru physically dragging Hajime out of his busy time by uttering the magic words "hey, let's get some food" and refusing to take no for an answer.
"Did you take offense that I thought you were stupid?"
"Fuck off. Besides, what did you do to me?"
Rimuru stopped in his tracks, genuinely confused. "Oh? What do you mean?"
Hajime narrowed his eyes slightly, continuing his walk.
"I should be preparing, training. I ought to be refining my arsenal before the inevitable battle, so how in the world did you manage to get me out of there? Did you brainwash me?"
"Hahahahaha, oh ye of little faith," Rimuru laughed, earning a piercing side-eye from Hajime. "That just means you're ready for college... probably. If you're not completely hopeless."
"Hey."
"Just kidding." Rimuru's expression softened slightly, though he kept his tone light. "I remember when I was in college... I could be stuck in the library, have piles of homework all due in hours, and just a classmate inviting me to get food was enough to pull my ass out of the chair. Don't you find it weirdly amusing that the same thing just happened to you?"
Hajime thought for a second before replying. "No, not really. It doesn't even make sense. Besides—"
"Well, hello there, beautiful young man!" A voice interrupted him. It was a middle-aged man looking every bit like a sleazy salesman, complete with oil-slicked hair and a smile that screamed 'bad decisions ahead.'
Rimuru looked left and right, then behind him, and then pointed to himself with exaggerated surprise. "Me?"
"Yes, you," the salesman clarified with what he probably thought was charm. "The most aesthetic, beautiful young man in the world!"
Rimuru put his left hand in his pocket and dramatically swept his hair with his right, putting on the most obnoxiously smug grin ever witnessed by mortal eyes.
"Heh. You've got a good eye, man."
"He's buttering you up, Rimuru."
"You be quiet, bitch."
As the suspicious salesman opened his mouth to continue his pitch, Hajime forcefully shoved him aside and dragged Rimuru away by the sleeve.
"This is why strolling with you is such a pain in the ass."
"I don't get this cryptic animosity of yours," Rimuru protested, allowing himself to be pulled along. "What did I ever do? Better yet, what did I ever not do?"
"Do you want me to thank you?"
"Yes!" Rimuru shouted, throwing his hands up dramatically. "You should be groveling at my feet for the number of times I've saved you from a meeting with death. Honestly, I remember when—"
And then he stopped. Because Hajime suddenly stopped walking and was facing him with an uncharacteristically sincere expression on his face—an expression that looked absolutely strange on features usually set in permanent scowls or irritated frowns.
And in a voice barely above a whisper, he said—
"Thank you."
Huh?
That was it. No grand drama and no groveling at feet as requested. Just two simple words uttered in a single instance of a single eye contact, nothing more and nothing less. The fleetingness and randomness of it caught even Rimuru off-guard, leaving him standing there like an idiot while his mind tried to process what had just happened.
Because despite the simplicity, despite the almost casual delivery, Hajime's eyes had looked completely sincere.
Rimuru watched as Hajime disappeared into the crowd of people, leaving him standing alone on the busy street corner.
"Still, his eyes did look sincere," he whispered, tilting his head with a bemused smile. "Welp. That's enough for me, I guess. I was never one for theatricals anyway."
He stood there for a moment longer, hands shoved deep in his pockets, watching the spot where Hajime had vanished. Maybe that was all either of them needed—acknowledgment without fanfare, gratitude without grand anything. And maybe that meant Hajime was going to be okay after all.