Summary: Little Women Arc: Rumi Tsurumi. Last Order. Akane Awakusu. The three are now in their mid to late teens and are starting to show an interest in the opposite sex. They think it would be a good experience to attend a mixer and hang out with boys their age or older, because that's what they think normal girls do when they reach this age. Besides, it won't do them any good to always hang out with a bunch of stupid old guys in their timeless twenties who think of them as nothing more than a bunch of little brats.

Hachiman. Accelerator. Shizuo Heiwajima. The three of them are the stupid old guys in their twenties and the cause of all the problem in their own little world. Truthfully, this is all their fault. The three of them learn about the mixer the girls are gonna attend and all of them react poorly as is expected of them.

But that is not the only problem. As the individuals – both boys and girls – who attend this mixer might have some other hidden agenda.

Can Hachiman Unravel The Truth?

Arc 1: Little Women: I : The Talk

One of the better truths of the new world was the lack of concern most paid towards the biological age of others, both men and women alike. It didn't matter because it was of no significance in the larger picture and it was extremely difficult to ascertain the correct age based on simple looks and outer appearances, simple words and normal behaviours, the usual actions and there standard reactions.

Lady Tsunade, a woman in her fifties, looked to be in her thirties and shared more than a few disturbing similarities with Shizuka Hiratsuka, there timeless look being one of them as even after all these years, Hachiman Hikigaya, still wasn't suicidal enough to ask her how old she really was. Likewise, Rory Mercury, the demigoddess, looked a bit out of her mid-teens now, but Rumi Tsurumi still looked older than her in comparison because of the former's taste in Gothic Lolita fashion-wear. Yato, the God and Tomoe, the yokai, looked like two handsome, good-looking men in their twenties and in comparison, both Hachiman and Accelerator managed to make themselves look older and act more adult-like.

Still, the best example to show how ridiculous age based biases and prejudices had become was to take the case of Shinobu Oshino, the vampire. Monday, she could be in her teens. Tuesday, she could be in her twenties. Wednesday, she could be in her thirties.

Ageless. Timeless. Changeless. Those words came into the conversation and became a part of the daily vocabulary to describe them and sooner rather than later it became part of the norm, the new normal, the new look, the new compliment. The new fashion statement, the new workout goals for normal civilians and the new standards for beauty and mark of good breeding in the minds of elites.

But though it was understood that there was no particular stigmata attached to those who were older in comparison and the rules and guidelines for those who were deemed a bit younger fell a bit lax in these troubling times, there were still some ethical problems and moral dilemmas to be faced.

Shizuka Hiratsuka could get drunk, think of something stupid, come to his house, kidnap him, put him in the trunk of her car and drive him to the marriage registration office in the middle of the night. Then book a honeymoon suite in a lavish hotel and make him feel like the luckiest man in the world, through the rest of the night. Then the next morning, then late afternoon, then early that evening, then another new night as a newly wedded couple. He would be fine with it and the process would continue until he died out of starvation and hunger and sheer happiness which would probably be within a week, because he didn't do happiness or wedded bliss.

But, Hachiman would have been fine with it. In fact, that was his retirement plan even now. There was nothing wrong with that picture. Shizuka Hiratsuka and Hachiman Hikigaya could be in a romantic relationship and there would be no legal ramifications. But, Rumi Tsurumi and Hachiman Hikigaya, pursuing a less than platonic relationship and developing romantic feelings for one another, would be seen as a shocking crime and he would be thrown in prison, serving a heavy sentence as fitting of his unsavoury actions. His name would be in the papers. He would be labelled as such: A lolicon, a pervert, a paedophile.

Thus, he would have to take suitable actions and act like the responsible and mature adult to dissuade the younger girl for looking at him in this light. It was wrong for her to see him as a potential romantic interest and future lover and he would do everything in his power to have her see reason.

For that matter, Rumi Tsurumi shouldn't even be thinking about dating and romance and hook-ups and going out to stupid mixers with a bunch of her girl friends to hang out with a bunch of perverted, gross, old boys.

I mean she was still at that age when boys were considered gross, right, Hachiman thought.

He needed to come up with a proper response to her as she dropped this news of her going out to have a fun time without taking note of the dangers of such social meet-ups and gatherings.

Hachiman would educate her.

"Rumi, I think it's too early for you to be thinking about dating and stuff." Hachiman said as he offered her a drink. The Maxx Coffee was meant for him, but for the sake of this argument he tossed it to her. "I mean, how old are you?"

"Sixteen." Rumi said, petulantly. "I am turning seventeen soon, not that you care." She took a sip from the canned beverage and made a face, sticking her tongue out. "Yuck! How can you drink this stuff? It's too sweet."

Gotcha, you brat! "Well, you are not old enough to drink alcohol or beer." Hachiman said as he tried to look cool while he hammered the point across that she was still a kid and not an actual adult who could think of waddling through the quicksand, that was known as casual dating and hook-ups. Netflix and chill, be damned.

"I don't see you taking a drink." Rumi pointed out. "Did you take out that can of beer just to look cool and adult-like, because I have to tell you, you are failing. Miserably."

Now Hachiman couldn't possibly let that stand. San Miguel's Pale Pilsen was a fine beer to have after a rough day at work and it went down smoothly. The same couldn't be said about this conversation. "And the fact that you didn't lose your cool and attack me like most adult women, when asked about their age with such lack of tact or subtlety, shows that you have much to learn and much to grow." He went with a smile, took another swallow of liquid courage and let the smile settle into a smirk. "So, RumiRumi, please think this through. Would you rather spend a night with me." He hooked a thumb to his puffed out chest for emphasis. "Or would you spend it with a bunch of idiots?"

Rumi didn't look phased. It was like she didn't even acknowledge the choice because it was almost expected, like throwing away the empty can of sweet coffee after you are done drinking it. She still had a bit left at the bottom as she took a small gulp before giving the definite answer. "And how will we spend the night, Hachiman?" she asked, unamused. "I'm sure we will get bored talking to each other in a few more minutes. Perhaps, half an hour more at best. After that, what will we do?"

Hachiman didn't even think it through because he had the answer thought out, beforehand. "We have a game-room in this house!" He said with a loud snap of his fingers. Then he pointed to one of the lesser travelled stairs which at first, Rumi thought let down to a basement or knowing him, a dungeon. "We have all the amazing gaming consoles, the most popular mangas and light-novels. Even stuff like card games and chess and billiards, we have them all! It's a really big room downstairs, with a lot of fun things to do." He sounds excited, Rumi thought. "We can play together, the whole night, Rumi-chan."

Play. As in kid-stuff. Hachiman would probably install a slip and slide there one of these days, Rumi thought, bitterly. She was still the little kid from back then. Nothing had changed between him and her, even though the world around them had: noticeably, definitely, infinitely. In other words, Rumi was not the same kid he remembered.

Hachiman remembered so little now. He called her –chan.

"Thanks Hachiman. You know, I'm really glad that we have these talks even now. You always make time for me despite how busy you are with your own responsibilities." Rumi said as she crushed the empty can of beverage with one hand. In elementary, she would have required two hands and still not be quite successful. In middle school, she would have still managed with one, but her face would be twisted and scrunched up for some reason with the extra effort. Now, a couple years later, she crushed it without a second thought and threw it in the bin, kept in the corner of the sitting room without even looking. It was all natural, very much like the end of this conversation. "But, I think, I want to meet some new people, you know." she said, voice small, but firm. "I mean, even you had to become a somewhat respectable member of society and learn to mingle with the rest of the crowd." She pointed out, not quite bitterly. "You also found a bunch of people who are willing to live with you. And people who tolerate you and all your stupid nonsense and reluctantly, under the influence of alcohol, might even admit to being your friend."

Hachiman couldn't resist the chuckle to ebb out from his throat. "Give me a break, Rumi. Not everyone I know or speak to is an alcoholic. Some just behave like they are drunk or high on drugs because, it's how they talk or act and it's completely their own individual choice. It's not because of me or having to talk to me out of their own free will." He said with a sense of humour. Then it was tossed like his empty can of beer which found its resting place over Rumi's can of empty coffee.

It mirrored how both of them were running empty on words as well.

"The me you see today, Rumi, is the me in my twenties. I try not to be the person I was when I was in high school or just out of high school. It's a new world and it's a new me. But, while saying that, I will also say this. The more things change, the more it stays the same. It's a contradiction, but that's how the world works." Hachiman shrugs, unhelpfully. "It a new world, but it is more of the old world which we hadn't seen before." He took out his phone and made to show that he was looking at the time. But really, he was looking at his own reflection on the app screen. "It's a new me, I say that now and it's the truth. But, the new me and the old me, we are like this reflection. Mirrored images. Right is left. Left is right. You won't know the difference by looking. You have to read between the lines."

"You are not making much sense." Rumi said, breaking him out of the reverie.

Dark silver eyes held her for a second. Before it was gone. Rumi took a breath and wondered whether his eye sight was getting worse with age. He seemed to be wearing contact lenses nowadays. But no, it was a trick of the light because the next instant he reclined back and dropped his phone to the table and those were the same eyes of old.

Rumi thought she would never miss a pair of rotten dead fish eyes. How wrong she had been. "I'm sorry about that. Just thinking about something work related." Hachiman said before coughing into his fist and clearing his throat a bit. He laced his fingers together and kept both his elbows on the table, back hunched in concentration, face making a point. "You know, there is no easy way to say this, but there has been a lot of abductions and kidnapping happening around these days and you really don't know who might show up to these mixers where you exactly don't know all the players and variables and it's all a bit chaotic. So, I think, you should reschedule." He was quick to cut her off with a wave of his hand. "I'm not saying, don't go. I mean, I really can't stop you from hanging out with people your own age. But, what I'm saying is let me check out these people, beforehand."

"You want to check out girls in their teens?" Rumi asked.

Hachiman nodded gravely. "And boys too." He said, voice serious. It was a voice of a man in his twenties who didn't find it odd to be checking out younger boys and girls in their mid to late teens. Rumi thought, he wasn't being serious until he continued. "It wouldn't take long. I would run a quick background check. I mean with everyone online, it would be a piece of cake. I will have everything from their weird tastes in fashion to their horrible taste of food, along with a few online rumours here and there, you know, all the basic stuff."

Rumi didn't look at him as she picked an imaginary piece of lint from her exposed shoulder. It was stupid, because her dress left her shoulders bare, and so there shouldn't be any lint there in the first place. And it was not like she had dandruff. So, whatever it was, it was imaginary. For all she knew, she was picking up dead brain cells after having this inane conversation. Then she straightened her skirt a little and came to stand from the other side of the coffee table, which separated, the intelligence and the belligerence. "You need Jesus."

"I wish." Hachiman said. "But he needs Buddha to make the rent." he continued, offhandedly. Then he shook his head, dejected with the country's economy."Goes to show how costly it is to live in Tokyo these days. Even living in the suburbs like Tachikawa, you need at least one roommate. That's preposterous!" [1]

Rumi Tsurumi flicked her hair backwards to hide her level of second hand embarrassment from being even associated with a dumb guy like him. She checked the time on her phone and though it was early, it was better than staying here and being subjected to all this utter nonsense. "Well, that's good to know." She said, not sure what else there was left to say. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have to leave. Last Order wants me to take her out for shopping." Rumi said, checking the text she had received during the course of her conversation with Hachiman. There had been more than a handful of demands and clearly the little girl was more excited than her about the possibilities of the mixer. "Also, Akane and her family want to check out the meeting spot beforehand. You know because…" she trailed off wondering how much to tell him and what to leave out.

"…because her family has concerns." Hachiman supplied, though there was a look in his eyes which told her, he knew more about Akane Awakusu and her family situation than he was letting on at the moment.

Rumi wondered for a second whether Hachiman ever imagined this would be his new life or whether he was just barely keeping it together while working with the cards that fate had dealt him in the never-ending game of poker.

The Yukinoshita family didn't seem like that much of a big deal now, Rumi guessed. That was more like a bad plot from a soap opera to entertain housewives and stay at home dads. But how they - the young daughter of a mob family, the youngest clone of two thousand clones made from an esper and Rumi Tsurumi – handle the first mixer of their life, now that is good quality entertainment fit for television.

"Okay." Hachiman said. He seemed to have come to a decision. "I can't stop you because then I would be breaking your trust and you won't tell me about these kinda stuff in the future and that's something I definitely don't want to happen. So, here's what I will do instead."

Rumi didn't point out, that she didn't care what he did or did not do. It would be rude and she thought it was nice that he wasn't being too much of a control freak. He was letting her be herself and make her own mistakes and draw her own conclusions and results about this whole casual dating business. The others couldn't say the same. The Hachiman, she met in his timeless twenties was at least a lot more reasonable. "Okay, I will listen to what you have to say. Though, whether I agree with it or not, is still up to me, got it?" Rumi set the rules down straight to avoid any major misunderstanding.

"Absolutely. Here's what I will do for you Rumi." Hachiman said as he got up on his feet and walked around the rest of the chairs and sofas and other comfortable sitting arrangements of the room until he came to stand on her side of the table, intelligence rewarding intelligence. "I will be your chauffer."

The word irked her. "Thanks, but I am fine with taking public transports."

"I didn't say I would be your driver, Rumi." Hachiman pointed out. "A chauffer has more responsibilities. Think of it this way," he pointed out. "I will take you out to meet Last Order and the two of you can go shopping, together, without adult supervision." He said the last words with emphasis because he knew what she had been irked about before. "I wouldn't involve myself in your trip unless both of you ask me to. But, if you want, I can help with the bags or you know, being a male and knowing how the male mind works…" He grimaced, but pulled through. "…I can share an opinion or two on…" He shook his head. Sometimes he didn't know where he was going with the flow of garbage-like words which kept spewing out from his mouth.

This he knew would lead to disaster. "…You want to pick out our clothes for the date?"

"Mixers are not a date." Hachiman clarified before moving to defend himself. "And, of course not! What kind of a sick maniac do you think I am!?" he tried for a failed smile to plead his case for an innocence verdict. "You can wear whatever you want. Both you and Last Order and Akane-san are free to dress up like adults."

And Accelerator would have killed him there for the, not-so-innocent slip of the tongue even though he had said that because, Hachiman, knew he couldn't quite see the three little girls as quite a women, yet. The three of them had the same problems. They all saw them as the brats they knew from before, the one they met for the first time. It was like they hadn't grown up in their eyes. And it was unfair for the three girls. Not that the three men would ever admit that. Shizuo would throw a bike at them first, then a vending machine, then a lamppost, and then a stripped man, naked except for his boxers, because he had been brave enough to intervene and come between him and a wild punch.

It was mostly their fault. The stupid men in their lives. Rumi didn't make a comment on that. This mixer was the best thing to happen to them and it was finally the time to show them, that, they were not the same little girls, trying to dress up like adult, as Hachiman put it, without thinking straight. "You can come if you want." Rumi said, voice noncommittal. "I think the three of us would appreciate someone to drive us to the meeting spot." Rumi used the word 'drive', because that was better and less fancy than chauffer. She also didn't say that she would appreciate him coming along with her.

"Then it's settled." Hachiman said, mostly to himself. "Now we have only one thing left to do."

"You mean, you have one thing left to do." Rumi said as she poked him in the chest and hoped that the colour of the weird logos wouldn't come off in her fingers from that old, but comfy looking sweatshirt. "I'm not going out with you dressed like that, Hachiman."

"Well obviously." Hachiman said with a chuckle. But Rumi didn't get much time to appreciate this light moment. "But we need the expertises of someone else."

Rumi didn't get to appreciate nice moments like this, because he was a goddamn bastard. "Rumi, I'm sure you have met Violet before."

Rumi Tsurumi. Violet Evergarden. Hachiman Hikigaya. A smiling, full of himself, proud bastard, rotten dead fish eyed, Hachiman Hikigaya. He was looking forward to this as it was the first stage of his rotten plan. From the looks of it, Rumi had no idea till now that his actions would lead her to make a pledge at least and have him killed one of these days because, he was indeed, without a doubt, a very sick man who didn't deserve to live. Or at least, that's what he thought about himself, as his rotten schemes slowly began to unravel and show themselves.

One person at a time.

"Miss Rumi." Violet Evergarden said. Her voice was monotone and emotionless. Mouth moving to form the words of her greeting and hand clasped to her sides, rigid, yet free. Almost like a stance from a military formation with its archaic formality and focused attention, which seemed to provide a sharp contrast to her light blue Prussian jacket, from an yesteryears fashion.

Rumi didn't know what to make of the older woman with the doll-like appearance, the light blue eyes and the lovely golden hair which fell over her shoulders. "Violet-san." She said, copying her greeting. Then, with the settling quiet and unnerved with the look in her blank stare and the lack of support from the bastard, looking on silently from beside her, she tried her hand at the second most worse thing in the world: small talk.

"Do you still use a type writer, Violet-san?"

"Yes. Laptops are flimsy. The keys get damaged easily."

There was no embarrassment in her words. Nor was there impatience or displeasure or any kind of emotion whatsoever at her inability to handle modern technology. It was like she was stating a fact, nothing more, nothing less. It was a perfect use of the fewest words to carry a meaningless conversation, in the same way, the heart monitor is a perfect device to check for signs of life in a patient who had been put into a medically induced coma who has slim chances of ever waking up and getting out of the hospital.

Rumi didn't know why she felt uncomfortable with Violet's calm and stoic presence.

Hachiman didn't seem to mind.

"Violet, Rumi, has a mixer to attend." Hachiman said. There was a fondness in his voice which Rumi didn't know whether was because of her or the other woman in the room. The Hachiman she knew from back in high school had an affinity for girls with cold demeanour and lengthy, dark, black hair.

Rumi didn't like to think about it. Though, she did flick a strand of her black hair over her shoulder as an afterthought and wondered whether she had been hasty in making an appointment with her hairdresser. Her hair wasn't that long, yet and it was still manageable. She didn't even need cute ribbons. "It's really nothing to brag about." Rumi shrugged, noticing late that her reply could be used for both conversations, the one she was having about her hair with herself and the one, she was not having with him, that he was definitely having with the other woman.

Argh, this was so confusing.

"Mixer?" Violet asked.

"Ah," Hachiman made a sad face. "I will explain it to you later." He said. Rumi didn't find that strange. Perhaps, the word 'Mixer' meant something else in her language. Many things got lost in the translation. "But for the time being, can you do me a quick favour?"

"Yes."

Rumi found it strange. The quick response from her end to his lack of hesitance in asking for such a simple thing as a favour. How the times have changed, Rumi thought, bitterly. But then, she supposed, once you have to live with them, you also get used to their strangeness in order to be perfect roommates. There was a level of understanding and compromise and soon a transition into smooth conversation was to be expected between the likes of them.

Rumi hadn't experienced that yet, because she was still a loner, who kept mostly to herself.

Hachiman had changed.

"Violet, can you give Rumi 'the talk'?"

Horror. Pure, absolute horror. Rumi took it back. Hachiman Hikigaya hadn't changed at all. He was still the rotten, despicable man from before. Now, he was only a bit taller, a bit more confident and a bit more evil because there was no other way to justify this other than, he wanted to make life hell for her, just because, he could make life hell for her.

He had changed and changed for the worse.

"I'm sis-sixteen." Rumi stammered. "I know, everything there is to know about, stuff."

Hachiman smiled. "I'm sure you do." Then his eyes twinkled. "But, there's no harm going over some of the stuff once more and refreshing your memory a bit."

"Bu-, bu-"

Hachiman ignored her unintelligible ramblings. He looked at the other woman instead and almost made a polite request. "Violet, the fruits basket is over the counter." He dropped his voice to an almost conspiratorial level, but made sure that it carried enough to the reach the embarrassed ears of the young girl, wanting to stab him from behind. "Remember to use, bananas and apples, only."

Violet turned to him, voice deadpan. "What about them?"

Hachiman blinked. He tried not to blush. And then looked away, looking to see whether Rumi was losing her mind or eavesdropping on their not quite private conversation. He lowered his voice to a whisper. "I thought, Lazuli gave you the talk about-"

"-sexual gratification." Violet said, voice the same.

"Intercourse." Hachiman corrected as he grew uncomfortable. "Sexual intercourse." There was a short pause. "You know those two are different, right?"

"Yes." Violet said. Her eyes, innocent, sweet, incorruptible, looked to his to find the reason which escaped her understanding. "Do you want me to train Miss Rumi in the ways to have proper, protective intercourse?"

Now he felt like a dirty old man and he was still in his twenties. This was messed up. At first, he thought, he was gonna scare Rumi and, in the process educate her as well, by having Violet Evergarden, describe with a clinical detachment the process of sexual intercourse, which was often romanticised beyond that which was really feasible in today's world.

But now, he was stuck with the folly of his own poorly thought out plans. Violet was definitely older than Rumi. But she was still younger than Hachiman, and now, it was like he was asking two innocent girls to lose their innocence together by learning the ways of the flesh and talking about it using fruits, which was definitely not the case, when it came to women talking about this kinda stuff, as he realised right now. There was no need for bananas and apples and all that unneeded confusion.

This was forbidden confusion and he would definitely rot in hell for doing this. Except there was no hell or heaven or anything else after death and he was pretty sure, he was going to suffer right here, in this plain of existence.

"Yeah, just," Hachiman chocked on the words. "Just tell her, what Lazuli told you. That should do the trick."

Violet didn't blush. "Roger."

"Ah, there's no need to salute." Hachiman said, waving her off as he went to his room to get dressed.

Hachiman would learn later that asking Lazuli to give Violet the talk about sexual intercourse and then having Violet repeat those same words, exactly, word for word, from her memory, as they were said and uttered, was a terrible mistake.

It was a double edged sword, in that, it made Rumi very uncomfortable throughout the entire conversation, which she had no way of escaping, because, Violet Evergarden, guarded her like she was a political prisoner about to make a run for her life in a terrible peace negotiation gone wrong.

Rumi made a vow to kill Hachiman for this, soon.

A plan was forming in her mind as she tried not to die from hearing the words vagina, clitoris, penis and a few more, from such a innocent and doll-like woman, who at a first glance didn't quite seem to give the idea, that she knew about this kinda stuff, with such experience and practicality and all the right terminology.

But as Violet continued and Rumi had no choice other than to listen, the younger girl found herself getting a bit more interested about this and that and knowing the mechanics, so to speak, from an older woman, who happened to have a living arrangement with Hachiman, since he started to live in Ikebukoro permanently.

"Violet-san," Rumi asked. She tried to be clear and concise though, she couldn't handle the blush as it spread across her cheeks. Proper lubrication was such a loaded word. "How do you know about this kinda stuff?"

Violet assumed. It was never quite correct to assume. But she did, nonetheless.

"Hachiman-san asked that I be taught the basics about men and woman relationships. Lazuli-san, when asked at his behest, informed me of the physical aspects of sexual relationships." Violet said to her. Then, she looked at the emerald brooch around her neck and had a fleeting expression cross her face for the rarest of seconds. Rumi didn't know what it was. "In his own way, he is doing what he thinks is best."

Violet Evergarden didn't know how to smile. She didn't know anything except for speaking the truth or the best version of it as understood by her at the most opportune of times. "After all, Hachiman-san loves you, Miss Rumi."

Rumi scowled. She didn't like the way the woman said that to her with no emotion or inflection in her voice whatsoever.

Violet also didn't notice that she caused a minor misunderstanding.

As far as she was aware, she had told her the truth.

-/-/-

A/N: Welcome to Little Women Arc!

The first chapter might have been a bit confusing and a bit too much without any proper introduction and backstory and a lot of character mentions. But that was intentional because, Hachiman, can't help but think like that with all the knowledge he has locked in his brain because of [The Truth] which revealed itself sometime in his recent past.

I will also introduce certain aspects of this new world order with each truth. For example, in this chapter I introduced the concept of biological age being rendered useless and introduced the concept of 'Ageless. Timeless. Changeless.'

But, it will be with the more normal characters that you will get a better sense of this New World. Because, Hachiman's brain thinks differently and it will be hard to keep up with him and his reasons and his train of thought.

But, I hope, by the end of this arc, Hachiman's backstory will be explained.

With that said,

Hope everyone enjoyed reading this chapter.

Leave lots and lots of reviews, follow and fave.

Won't betray your dreams.

-/-/-

[1] Reference to Manga, "Saint Onii-Chan."