Dreams That Cut Deeper
When they reach home; The night started normally, which for Kazuma and Ruko meant sitting on the mansion floor surrounded by junk, arguing about which was better—turn-based games or real-time combat—while Megumin pretended not to listen and Darkness pretended not to care, and the conversation drifted into old habits, the kind that felt more like brothers killing time than adventurers saving a town, and Kazuma leaned back against the wall and said, "You ever notice how we only relax when something shady is involved?" which made Ruko give a small shrug before answering, "Relaxing isn't the same as running away that'll say " and Kazuma pointed at him. "That. That's the edgy thing you do. You drop one line and suddenly I feel like I need to rethink my life choices," and Ruko actually let out a quiet breath that was almost a laugh.
Kazuma hesitated before continuing, voice lower now. "You've been… off. Since the fortress. Since everything. You keep saying you're fine, but you're not fine. What's eating you. C'mon spill the beans?" and the question didn't sound like teasing anymore, it sounded like concern, real concern, and Ruko didn't answer right away, staring at his hands as if the words were somewhere in his palms, before saying, "Dreams. Memories. Things I didn't finish, which I'm not sure off," and Kazuma scratched his head awkwardly because emotional talks were not his strong stat, but he still nodded and said, "Then let's go somewhere tomorrow stupid and not think about it for a few hours," and they both knew exactly what place he meant.
By the next night they reached the succubus shop again, not sneaking this time but not announcing it either, and the manager looked relieved the moment she saw them, explaining that they needed help organizing customers and maintaining order because business had been chaotic lately, and Kazuma immediately agreed when he heard the word payment while Ruko agreed because work was easier than thinking (also for the money), and for a while the tasks were simple—checking names, guiding clients, waking them after their time limit—and the rhythm of it pushed Ruko's thoughts into the background, which was the whole point.
Then it happened. One of the dream rooms opened and a client stumbled out, dazed, and behind him the illusion shimmered for a moment longer than it should have, long enough for Ruko to see something that wasn't part of the shop's design, something pulled from his own memory instead of the customer's, and in that brief overlap he saw her—the girl from his old world, the one he thought had been waiting for him, the one he believed he would return to—and she was laughing, not alone, her hand in someone else's, standing in the street where he had died, alive, moving on, smiling in a way that made it clear she hadn't been waiting at all.
Ruko froze. The sound of the shop faded, the voices, the footsteps, even Kazuma calling his name, all of it muffled by the sudden rush of heat in his chest, not sharp pain but something heavier, a slow burn that crawled up his throat and settled behind his eyes, and he stared at the fading image with a look that wasn't sadness anymore, it was anger. Anger of burning inside him which bring a face he as not show before he was born; not witness it by his own eyes back when he was in deaths door, quiet and controlled but real, the kind that came from realizing a story you told yourself was never true, and when the illusion finally broke he stepped back like he had touched something dirty. Kazuma grabbed his shoulder. "Hey. Ruko... you good?" and Ruko answered too quickly, "I'm fine, just... see a parasite," by giving the look of someone wanted to kill, which of course meant he wasn't, and Kazuma scared back a step and frowned because he had learned that tone meant don't push right now, so instead he said, "Take five. I'll cover your shift," which was the closest thing to kindness Kazuma ever said without turning it into a joke. "We have no shift you idiot!"
Outside, the night air felt colder than before, and Ruko leaned against the wall, breathing slowly, forcing the anger down into something manageable, because rage without direction was useless, and after a minute Kazuma stepped out beside him and didn't say anything at first, just stood there, and that silence was heavier than any lecture, and finally Kazuma muttered, "I'm to starting... dreams suck," and Ruko replied, "Only when they're honest enough, so... yeah," which made Kazuma glance at him sideways. "You saw someone?" and Ruko nodded once.
Kazuma kicked a pebble across the street. "Look, for what it's worth, anyone who moves on that fast doesn't deserve a second thought," and it wasn't elegant, it wasn't deep, but it was genuine, and Ruko looked at him for a second before saying, "Noted," which in Ruko language meant thank you, and they went back inside because standing still would only make the memory replay. The rest of the shift passed without incidents, but something had changed in Ruko's posture, a tension that hadn't been there before, and he spoke less, focusing entirely on tasks, and when the manager paid them at the end of the night Kazuma tried to lighten the mood by whispering, "See? Productive and emotionally damaging. Just like real work," and Ruko answered, "Consistency matters with your idiotic behavior but good enough," which was his way of regaining control.
On the walk back, Kazuma bumped his shoulder lightly against Ruko's. "Next time we pick a less psychologically dangerous job and enjoy a good girlfriend dream," he said giving thumbs up, and Ruko replied, "Next time you bring better preparation for that, else it'll be pointless or useless," and that answer sounded more like him, steady, forward-looking, not trapped in the past, and Kazuma smirked. "You're impossible, you know that?" and Ruko answered, "Efficient... yes," and for the first time since the vision, the anger inside him settled into something quieter, not gone, but contained, filed away like a lesson instead of a wound.
When they reached the mansion, the lights were off and the house was silent, and before they split to their rooms Kazuma said, "Hey… whatever you saw in there, that's not your whole story," and Ruko paused at the doorway, then gave a small nod, because he knew Kazuma was right, and that simple, awkward reassurance did more than any dream ever could.