章節 7: You Get Me

"I never thought I'd meet someone who could get me so easily. Then I met you. You just understand me."

—Rimuru Tempest

How could I be so stupid? Why did I think I would be different?

I wanted to believe—no, I needed to believe—that humanity could change. That they and monsters could be better. I wanted to show them a way forward, a way to coexist, to grow together... But now I see how foolish I was.

They ransacked my territory... My home, the place I built and fought for, the place I cared for with every ounce of my being. They came with their greed and shattered everything I built, every bond I forged. I trusted them. I trusted their promises, their words, even when my instincts screamed at me to be cautious. I allowed them to test my limits. I allowed them to walk all over me... And now, I've paid the price.

I thought I could change the world with kindness, with understanding. I thought I could guide them, show them that peace was possible. But instead, I let them exploit my mercy. I let them push me to the brink until I was the one who broke. I was naive... so naive. A child playing at being a leader, believing in the goodness of others, expecting change just because I wanted it to.

I was too soft.

Too trusting.

Too weak.

It's too late to go back. The damage is done. I couldn't protect them. I couldn't protect Shion. I couldn't keep my promises.

…

No... I won't make that mistake again.

There's still a chance. There's still a way to fix this. I will evolve. I will rise to a power beyond what they could ever imagine. I will become a Demon Lord. I'll resurrect my people. I'll bring them back. I'll give them a chance to rebuild, to reclaim what's ours.

But I not make the same mistakes. No more playing the fool. No more thinking that kindness alone will solve everything.

The world isn't kind, and neither should I be.

If I want to protect those I care about, I need to be stronger—strong enough to stop those who would take advantage of my goodwill.

I'll do it. I'll fix everything. I'll bring my people back and make the world understand the cost of underestimating me. I'll show them what happens when you push too far, when you challenge the one who has been kind, but now understands the cost of that kindness.

I will evolve. I will make it right.

That should've been what happened.

But... why?

Why am I still here?

I was supposed to evolve. I was supposed to bring my people back. I was supposed to make things right. But instead... this. This new world. A strange place, with unfamiliar rules and people. No one here knows me. No one here knows my pain, my regrets.

No one here knows my dreams of fixing what I've broken.

I thought I would regain control, thought I would have the power to make everything right after I evolved... But now, I've never felt so powerless. Thrust into a new world, far from the one I knew, far from my people. What now? How do I fix my mistakes when I'm stranded in a place I don't understand?

I should've been ready. I should've anticipated that things wouldn't go according to plan. But how can you even anticipate something as comical and absurd as this? Now I have no choice but to learn all over again.

But this time, I won't make the same mistakes. I won't be the naive fool. I'll fight. I'll adapt. And I'll make sure that no one—no one—can take advantage of me again.

I'll make sure that I never forget the lesson I learned at such a high cost.

…

I woke with a jolt, gasping for air as my eyes snapped open, the remnants of the nightmare still clinging to my mind like a fog I couldn't shake off. My body felt cold, a chill running through me, despite being incapable of physically feeling the sensation.

I blinked rapidly, trying to focus.

For a moment, I didn't even know where I was. My surroundings were unfamiliar, foreign. This wasn't my home. My eyes darted around the room—smooth walls, a strange and large master bed I didn't recognize, and the glow of light filtering through a window.

I was... still here. In this world.

I ran my hand through my hair, trying to calm my thoughts.

———

The scene is beautiful.

The sun hovers low over the horizon, casting warm golden hues across the Floating City of Xyrus. The rooftops shimmer, and the canals below glint like rivers of molten gold. From the balcony of my villa, I can see the tallest of the city buildings weaving between the clouds. It's serene—peaceful, even.

This should be my moment of quiet.

And yet, there's Alea.

"Rimuru! Where's the flour?" Her voice carries from the kitchen, like she's been here for years and everything is supposed to make sense to her.

I sigh, leaning against the railing. "Top cabinet, left side. Where it's always been."

There's a pause, then the sound of clinking jars. "Why would you put it so high up?!"

"Why would you be using my flour in the first place?" I call back, but I already know the answer.

She's claimed my kitchen again, like some self-appointed culinary tyrant. Before I can retreat further into the balcony's tranquility, she bursts out onto it, holding a bowl of something unidentifiable. Her cheeks are dusted with flour, and there's a smudge of something green on her nose.

"Try this," she said, thrusting a spoon at me.

"What even is it?"

"An experiment. Just taste it."

I eye the suspiciously vibrant concoction but relent, taking a small bite. It's... actually pretty good. Spicy, with a hint of sweetness.

But I'll be damned if I tell her that.

"Eh. It's edible," I say, nonchalantly.

"Edible?!" She looks offended, crossing her arms. "You're impossible to impress, you know that?"

"And yet, you keep trying!"

"Well, that's because I enjoy a challenge."

I can't help but chuckle, shaking my head as she retreats back into the house. I follow her, curious despite myself.

Inside, the villa is less a peaceful retreat and more a battlefield. She's commandeered the kitchen, my library is scattered with books she's only half-finished, and the living room is littered with her beige trench coat, boots, and some strange trinket she probably found at the market.

I catch her standing on tiptoe to reach the spice rack. The hem of her tunic rides up slightly, exposing her tender skin, and I glance away before I stared too long.

"Need help?" I ask, leaning casually against the doorframe.

She doesn't turn around but waves me off. "I've got it. Unlike you, I don't need magic for everything."

I roll my eyes and waved my hand, sending the jar of cinnamon floating down into her waiting hands.

"Cheater," she mutters, but there's a trace of a smile as she sprinkles the spice into her pot.

Later, I find her lounging on the couch, flipping through one of my books. "You could try asking before borrowing my things," I say, plopping down on the other end of the couch.

"I could," she replies without looking up. "But where's the fun in that?"

I snatch the book from her hands, holding it just out of reach. "This is an old text on runic theory. Are you even understanding it?"

"Of course!" She lunges for the book, and I twist away, keeping it from her grasp. "It's fascinating. Now give it back, or I'll—"

"Do what?" I tease, grinning as she climbs over me, trying to wrestle the book free.

Her knee presses into my side, and she nearly topples us both off the couch, but I'm too busy laughing to care. Eventually, I relent, letting her snatch the book from my hands.

"You're insufferable," she huffs, settling back into her spot.

"And yet, here you are."

By the time the sun has fully set, we've made a mess of the kitchen, argued over the best way to roast vegetables (I won, obviously), and had a playful chase through the house when she tried to dodge cleaning her mess. Now, we're back on the balcony, leaning against the railing together.

"Rimuru," she says, breaking the silence, "you've got a nice life here. Peaceful. Stable."

I glance at her. There's something softer in her tone now, something reflective.

"It's not bad," I admit.

She tilts her head, looking at me with that curious, almost mischievous glint in her eyes. "So why do you let me stick around and ruin it?"

I chuckle, shaking my head. "Because it'd be boring without you."

For a moment, we simply stood there, the quiet stretching between us. It's comfortable, though—natural. Then she grins, bumping her shoulder against mine.

"Don't get too used to me, Tempest. I'm not here to make your life easy."

"I'd be worried if you were," I reply, smirking.

The villa settles into a calm hum as we linger in the cooling air.

"…Thanks," I say after a pause, surprising even myself.

"For what?" She glanced at me, curious.

"For making this place feel a little more alive, I guess?"

Her expression softens, and for once, she doesn't have a snarky comeback. Instead, she just leans against the railing beside me.

"Don't mention it," she says softly.

And for a moment, everything feels exactly as it should.

———

I stirred back to awareness as a familiar voice resonated in the depths of my mind.

<<Good morning, Master. It is 07:12 AM. Your inactive state has concluded.>>

Raphael's calm tone greeted me, a sound so mechanical yet oddly comforting. The warmth of light filtered through my eyelids, accompanied by the faint chirping of morning birds. I exhaled a soft sigh, and slowly, I opened my eyes to the soft glow of sunlight spilling into the room.

And then I saw it.

Alea's leg.

"…"

It was draped across me, her bare foot dangerously close to my side. My gaze followed the trail of tangled sheets, up to where she lay sprawled out on her stomach, her silver hair fanned out like a chaotic halo on my bed. For a moment, I simply stared, disbelief and exasperation warring within me.

<<Master, Alea Triscan's presence in your bed is highly irregular.>> Raphael observed with his usual unflappable tone, clearly stating the obvious.

"Thanks for that," I muttered under my breath, barely loud enough to be heard over the sound of Alea's soft snoring.

The scene was... a disaster. The bedcovers had been pulled halfway to the floor, a pillow clutched tightly in her arms like it was a lifeline. To make matters worse, her other leg was dangling off the side of the bed, leaving one slipper precariously balanced on her toes.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, muttering, "Why is she here?"

<<Would you like me to attempt a hypothesis?>>

"No, I don't think I—"

<<Analyzing behavioral patterns and prior interactions: It is likely Alea Triscan found the bed comfortable, disregarded social boundaries, and opted to intrude upon your resting space without malicious intent.>>

"Yeah, I figured that part out. You're awfully vocal today."

Shifting carefully, I tried to move her leg without waking her. I wasn't in the mood for one of her playful tirades first thing in the morning.

Bad idea.

"Mmmm..." she mumbled, burrowing her face deeper into the pillow. Her hand flopped over and landed squarely on my chest.

"Alea," I said flatly.

Nothing.

"Alea." Louder this time.

Still nothing.

"Alea!"

Her eyes fluttered open, still hazy with sleep, and for a moment, she looked almost peaceful. Then her gaze focused on me, and a slow, mischievous grin spread across her face.

"Morning, Rimuru," she purred, stretching lazily as if waking up in my bed was the most natural thing in the world.

"Explain."

She propped herself up on her elbows, her hair a wild mess. "Your bed looked comfier than the guest room," she said with a casual shrug.

"So you just decided to claim it?"

"Pretty much." She grinned, utterly unapologetic. "Oh, don't look so scandalized. It's not like you sleep, anyway."

"That doesn't make this okay."

"You're such a prude." She swung her legs off the bed and stretched again, clearly enjoying the fact that she'd thrown my morning into chaos.

"You do realize this is my house, right?"

"Oh, I'm well aware. You remind me often enough," she shot back, pulling her hair into a messy braid.

I groaned, running a hand through my own bluish, silver long hair. She gave me a cheeky smile before hopping to her feet. The morning only grew more chaotic from there.

By the time I made it to the kitchen, Alea had already claimed the space. Again. She was rummaging through the cabinets, muttering under her breath about how I didn't have "proper breakfast food."

"I've got plenty of food," I argued, leaning against the doorway.

"You've got emergency rations and stuff you'd serve to guests you don't like," she retorted, holding up a box of hard biscuits like it was an accusation.

"At least they're practical."

"They're depressing."

"Are you going to criticize my entire pantry?"

"Only if it deserves it." She smirked, tossing the biscuits back onto the shelf before turning her attention to the refrigerator.

"Did you even ask before moving in?" I asked, crossing my arms.

She glanced over her shoulder with a raised brow. "Do you really want me to answer that?"

I didn't respond. A few moments later, despite my protests, Alea managed to whip up something resembling breakfast—a surprisingly delicious mix of eggs, herbs, and whatever else she scavenged from the kitchen.

I begrudgingly admitted to myself that it was good, but there's no way I could tell her that.

"You know," she said as she leaned back in her chair, grinning at me over her mug of coffee, "you really are awfully easy to fluster."

"I'm not flustered," I said, though I knew she could see through the façade.

"Right." She gave me a knowing look. "Keep telling yourself that."

For all her antics, I couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth with her around. As much as she drove me crazy, the villa felt a little less empty with her around. Not that I'd ever tell her that, of course.

"Hey," she said suddenly, her tone softer. "Thanks for letting me stick around. Even if I'm... well, me."

I glanced at her, surprised by the sincerity in her voice. "Yeah, right," I said simply.

Her grin returned, brighter than ever. "Wow, Rimuru. I might start thinking you want to ask me to live here."

"I wouldn't go that far," I replied and continued sipping my coffee.