The ballroom was too crowded and too stuffy. Although Hajime had been to many social events in his life, he couldn't stand the heat of all these bodies cramped into one room. His guard was up, and his reflexes, as well as senses, were spiked.

He was dead and in Hell, but he couldn't seem to shake off the feeling that an attack could be launched at any time tonight, or the fact that someone could die. It was a natural instinct that Hajime had developed during his period of reign over a large mafia network.

His olive eyes scanned around the room, trying to locate the Grim Reaper who had left him to join the party.

Just as he was about to give up, the two grand doors that served as an exit and entrance to the room opened, a familiar figure approaching the carpet laid upon the floor.

It was none other than Nagito Komaeda himself. The albino had a stone cold expression that settled on his face as he walked down the aisle.

The chattering faded into mumbles and murmuring, the room bathed in an eerie silence now.

When he reached the end of the carpet, he sunk to one knee, taking Her Majesty's hand in his. He planted a gentle kiss on her knuckles as a sign of formality and respect.

"Your Majesty," Nagito said in a monotone voice.

"Grim Reaper," she responded, her ruby red lips curling upward into a grin. "How are you today?"

"Fine, your Majesty."

"Continue to enjoy yourself, then."

With that implied command, the orchestra began to play again, the ominous music filling the room as people resumed talking.

Hajime tore his eyes away from the albino, who was now conversing with the Queen.

Slightly annoyed, he took a glass of champagne from a butler's tray, swirling the light colored liquid in his hand.

The atmosphere was dim and gloomy, making Hajime drowsy as he sipped his drink.

Was even was the point of this gala? He wasn't anyone important, and his appearance at this event didn't matter to anyone. Well... maybe except for Nagito, but the brunet doubted the albino would care if he made it or not. 

"How's your night?" A voice appeared next to him amidst the clamoring of people.

Hajime's eyes slid to his left side, his elbow propped up on the table behind him.

The Queen of Hell slightly narrowed her eyes at him, a playful grin still dancing on her face.

Her peach-colored hair was tied into two fashionable ponytails, and her dress was a silky gradient black to red, her red wings tucked gracefully behind her. A translucent black cape flowed after her, dragging on the floor.

Hajime didn't respond, and instead took another sip of the champagne, ignoring her question.

"I said," she repeated again, this time more forcefully and demanding. "How's your night?"

"It's good," he replied hastily, his tiny wings fluttering in annoyance.

"You better watch your tongue, boy." The Queen took a sip of her own wine. "I could have you executed whenever I wanted. So I suggest you watch your tone from now on."

Hajime clicked his tongue silently, continuing to swirl his drink in his glass, which was now half empty.

His eyes, due to his lack of repulsion, subconsciously slid over to the striking albino at the center of the room.

A pang of jealousy coursed through his veins again as he saw Nagito talking to Mikan with a warm smile.

"He is quite handsome tonight, isn't he?" The Queen chuckled.

"No."

"You might reconsider. I can clearly see it in your eyes. Your yearning for him is more than one of a friend's."

Hajime took a gulp of his alcoholic drink, the bubbly sensation causing his stomach to churn.

"You're always looking at him, admiring him discretely. I know. I saw what you've done to him. You've softened him and made him sympathetic, pitiful, the opposite of a messenger of death's personality." Her piercing blue gaze bore into Hajime as if she could rip his soul into tiny pieces just by looking at him.

"I saw how you took advantage of a situation when you offered to help massage his wings."

The mafia lord was stunned momentarily, his elbow slipping off the table as he stumbled backward either due to the alcohol or the shock of the unexpected statement, he didn't know.

"H-How-" he started, stumbling over his words. "How did you know?"

Her Majesty hummed, flicking a ponytail over her shoulder while taking another glass of dark purple wine from a passing servant's tray.

"I see all, and I see you trying to turn my Grim Reaper into a hopeless romantic, a pile of mush." She leaned in, her red gloves coming into contact with his black tie, abruptly tugging him forward with a sharp snap of her wrist.

Their faces were leveled, Hajime's in a scowl whereas hers was of a threatening expression with hints of pure amusement.

"I. Won't. Let. You." She shoved him backward harshly so that he landed on his bottom.

Hajime growled in anger, looking up at his "superior".

"I could decapitate you anytime, but since Nagito's my favorite and he favors you, I have no choice but to let you off with a warning." She placed her hands on her hips, purposely pressing her sharp heel on the mafia lord's foot until he winced in pain.

"If you get any closer to my messenger of death, I will personality see to your death. Bad things will happen to the both of you if you refuse to listen to my orders." The peach-haired girl grinned insanely, her heel digging deeper into the soft flesh of the brunet's foot.

"You don't want that now, do you? To have someone atone for the sins you committed? To have the boy you harbor feelings for take the punishment intended for you?"

The champagne in his mouth suddenly tasted bitter, the sweetness of the drink disappearing in his dry mouth.

Hajime growled lowly at the woman, his brows creasing in anger and pain.

"I thought so." Her smirk widened as she released her hold on his shoe.

"I look forward to seeing you again, Hajime." His name rolled off her tongue like a piece of food that tasted bad.

The Queen of Hell made her way to the front of the room, leaving the brunet on the floor, his hands at his sides to support him.

Hajime stood up, brushing off any signs of dirt or dust on his suit.

The alcohol took hold of his mind, and all he could feel was an ample amount of anger increasing within him.

Without a second look over his shoulder (possibly to see how Nagito was doing right about now), Hajime exited the ballroom swiftly.

No one noticed his departure.