The morning mist clung low over Taitō-ku, softening the outlines of street signs, bicycles, and storefronts beneath its chill.
Even in the early hour, the district stirred with motion— tired feet crossing intersections, engines humming low through alleyways, delivery trucks inching past compact cars while taxis veered through traffic with deliberate ease.
There was a quiet patience in the way the city moved, practiced and enduring. The distant wail of a train came and went like a passing thought, and above the low skyline, bulbuls and sparrows swooped between the buildings— chattering, as they broke above the fog.
Pedestrians pushed through the haze, moving with that familiar Tokyo pace— measured, alert, never still. Amongst the early ramble, two travelers walked side by side— out of place only to those who looked closely.
Rimuru held his iPad in both hands, the screen aglow with soft white light as he scrolled through the Starbucks app. His expression was unusually focused, clear-minded in a way he hadn't felt in days.
Talking through his nightmare earlier that morning had eased something tight in his chest, and now, walking beside Goblin Slayer, he found his usual rhythm again. He angled the tablet toward his companion, holding it up high enough for him to see.
"Alright," the slime said, breaking the quiet between them, "this is what we're working with."
Goblin Slayer gave the screen a glance without slowing his pace. His gaze passed over the images: sleek cups filled with creamy blends, dark roasts, drizzles of syrup, foamy textures he didn't have a name for.
He made a small sound in the back of his throat. "Are those all drinks?"
"Yup," Rimuru said, while tapping one of the images. "Coffee, mostly. Lattes, cold brew, mochas— stuff with enough caffeine to fuel a small militia."
Goblin Slayer looked again, then shifted his attention forward. "They all look the same."
"Pffft…! No they don't," Rimuru shot back, grinning. "It just looks like they're all the same because they all come in the same cup. But taste-wise? Huge difference."
The ashen-haired man didn't respond immediately. He stepped over a crack in the pavement, before asking, "Do you have a favorite?"
Rimuru hummed, scrolling again. "Used to, yeah— don't really remember it though. But if I had to pick now? I'd honestly lean towards an iced caramel macchiato. Sweet, but not too sweet. You can actually taste the espresso under the sugar if they make it right."
"You used to have that a lot?"
"Way too much," Rimuru said, eyes still on the screen. "It got to the point where the barista at my local Starbucks just started making it when she saw me walk in."
Goblin Slayer did his best to paint an image of that in his head. "So you drink it ritualistically then?"
"I wish," the slime replied, followed by a dry chuckle. "It wasn't really an option in Tempest."
That got a faint shift out of Goblin Slayer— the smallest tilt of his head. "There's no coffee there?"
"Nope. Not a bean in sight."
He nodded slowly, then asked, "What about tea?"
Rimuru's expression softened. "Oh, we had tea. Loads of it. Everything from the fancy floral stuff to the bitter bark-tasting stuff Shuna used to swear by."
"I've had tea too," Goblin Slayer said, almost to himself.
Rimuru grinned sideways at him. "It'd be weird if ya didn't."
The ashen-haired man didn't answer, but the way the corner of his mouth twitched sufficed enough as a response.
"I mean, Starbucks has tea too," Rimuru added, while tapping another tab on the screen. "But you should really try coffee at least once."
Goblin Slayer's eyes narrowed a little. Not harshly— more like he was working through a puzzle. "… And if I don't like it?"
Rimuru slowed his scroll. "Then you don't like it," he said with a shrug. "No crime in that," the slime mused, before then looking down for a moment— thoughtful. "… Or," he added, "you could get a tea, since you already know you like that, and I'll get a coffee I know I like, and we can just— share."
Goblin Slayer's gaze shifted back to the screen, then up to Rimuru. "You'd share a drink with me?"
"Yeah," the slime said, casually. "We can even swap halfway through or something."
The ashen-haired man seemed to mull that over. "Would that be normal?"
"What, sharing drinks?" Rimuru asked, smirking faintly. "We've used the same bathroom. Slept in the same tent. At this point, sharing a cup's probably the least intimate thing we've done."
Goblin Slayer blinked once. His posture didn't shift, but something in his gaze softened— like the words had landed somewhere he wasn't expecting. "… That's fair," he finally said, in a thoughtful voice.
They continued to keep walking, while the mist gradually thinned, peeling away from the street enough to reveal the signs ahead— washed-out neon, dull steel, and just a touch of green: the Starbucks logo, glowing like a faint signal fire at the far end of the block.
From the iPad under Rimuru's arm, a calm mechanical voice intoned: "in three hundred meters, your destination will be on the left."
Rimuru gave a small nod without looking down, already angling the screen to sleep with a practiced swipe. "Almost there," he murmured, before pausing— his brow furrowing slightly in thought. "… Still gonna need to figure out a better way to pay for things going forward."
Goblin Slayer turned his head slightly toward him. "That's a concern?"
"Sort of," the slime replied, while tapping the edge of the tablet with one thumb. "I mean, I've been making it work, sure. But this thing's bulky to carry around all the time, and paying for everything through apps on it is a little clunky. I've been thinking— it might be smarter to get an iPhone."
Goblin Slayer considered that, before letting out a soft hum. "You say that like it I understand what you're talking about."
"Tch… Fair," Rimuru murmured with an exhaled breath through his nose, before then glancing over at him with the faintest smile. "Alright— so, you know how this iPad works? The iPhone is basically the same thing, just a lot smaller. You can make calls on it, send messages, browse the web, play music, check maps, all that."
"Why would we need it if you already have one that does all of that?" Goblin Slayer asked, glancing toward the iPad.
"Because this thing's too big to carry in and out of every shop, and if I lose Wi-Fi, I'm pretty much stuck," Rimuru explained, with his voice a touch more animated now. "And most importantly, an iPhone can use a tap-to-pay feature. It'll connect to my account, and instead of fumbling with cash or QR codes, I just hover the phone over a scanner and boom— payment accepted."
Goblin Slayer blinked once. "And this is done without any coins or notes exchanged?"
"Yeah. It's all digital— just like everything else nowadays."
They eventually reached the crosswalk, where a handful of students stood nearby— voices low, eyes on their phones.
"Once we grab coffee, I'll look up the nearest Apple Store," Rimuru said. "Shibuya's got one. Ginza might too."
Waiting for the crosswalk sign to change, Goblin Slayer adjusted the duffle bag's strap over his shoulder. "Why is it called an 'iPhone?'"
"Old branding," Rimuru said. "Apple used to put 'i' in front of all their stuff. Made it feel personal. iMac, iTunes, iPod…"
"And what about 'Apple'? Is there meaning behind that?"
"No idea," the slime replied, while glancing up toward the storefront sign in the near distance. "From what I remember, the founder liked how it sounded— obviously, heh. But uh, there was something about it being non-threatening. Kind of ironic, given how Apple products are made."
Goblin Slayer considered that. "Odd name for a company."
"Most names are weird when you think about them too hard," Rimuru said. "But the brand stuck. Now it's just part of the world."
The crosswalk light, as if on cue, finally blinked green. The crowd then proceeded to surge forward, and they moved with it— quietly, without urgency.
Across the street, the Starbucks waited. Warm lights behind fogged glass. A glimpse of motion inside. The hiss of milk steaming and low music playing behind the door.
"Shouldn't be hard to buy one," Rimuru said. "Might be pricey, but I can handle it. Once we've got it, I can install everything we'll need. Navigation, messaging, payment apps… The works."
Goblin Slayer nodded again. "Sounds useful."
"It will be, yeah. It'll help keep us under the radar, too. Makes us look like everyone else." He added, as they reached the curb. The smell of roasted coffee drifted toward them on the damp air.
"Carrying this thing everywhere," Rimuru continued, while lifting the iPad slightly, "feels like I'm walking around with a map of the city printed on stone. Having an iPhone will make things helluva a lot easier for us."
"Easier's good," Goblin Slayer said simply.
Rimuru smiled faintly. "Exactly."
Goblin Slayer was the one to reach the door first. Without a word, he caught the handle and pulled it open, holding it in place as the soft warmth and aroma of roasted coffee beans drifted out from within.
Rimuru then stepped past him, the faintest grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Thanks, Ren," he said casually, before brushing the mist off his jacket sleeve as he crossed the threshold.
"You're welcome," Goblin Slayer replied, just as quiet.
He then started to let the door ease shut behind him— but caught a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye.
A group of young women was approaching, chatting in quick, bright tones. Without hesitating, Goblin the ashen-haired man walked back to hold the door open again.
One of the girls— a brunette, who was trailing just behind the others— slowed her pace as she looked up at him, and then froze. Her eyes widened, and a flush bloomed across her cheeks. She quickly turned to her friends, breath hitching in her throat.
"Kakkoii… Matte, anata, mite…?!" She whispered urgently. "Ano hito, sugoi kakkoii yo— kami mo me mo…! Chō ikemen janai…?!"
Goblin Slayer didn't react.
His eyes were preoccupied with scanning the street beyond— checking for any last stragglers, before finally letting the door close with a soft thud behind him.
Once fully inside, he was able to appreciate the café's interior that wrapped around him in low amber tones and cozy murmurs— cushioned seats, low wooden beams, and shelves stacked with ceramic mugs and seasonal coffee blends.
Ahead, he saw the long front counter lined with customers, baristas moving deftly behind the register. Signs written in chalkboard script advertised new drinks of the month. The line snaked past a display of pastries and sandwiches.
No trace of blue-silver hair in the crowd.
"Ren," came a voice from his left— low and familiar.
He turned.
Rimuru was already seated at a small table near the window, with one hand holding the iPad while the other lifted lazily to gesture him over.
Goblin Slayer crossed the floor with measured steps and sat down opposite him— shifting slightly in his chair until he could glance sideways at the length of the line again. "I thought we were getting coffee," he said, not accusing— just mildly confused.
"We are," the slime said, before using his free hand to point and tap the iPad screen lightly. When the ashen-haired am nturned back toward him, he angled it to show the glowing interface. "I'm going to order our stuff through the app— just like how we did yesterday at McDonald's."
"I see," Goblin Slayer said with a nod, before pausing and then asking him, "What about… The 'tap to pay'?"
Rimuru gave a small shrug, before flipping the iPad over briefly to show the back. "Not on this thing. No tap to pay here. Apple didn't put that feature in iPads for some reason. Guess they figured no one was gonna stick a ten-inch slab up to a cash register."
The slime then set the device flat again and resumed tapping— scrolling through what looked like an array of syrup customization options.
"If they did," Goblin Slayer said dryly, "it would made things convenient for us."
"True—" Rimuru replied, with a low chuckle, "—but then that would make things too easy for us, now wouldn't it?"
Goblin Slayer let out a soft breath— an amused grin tugging briefly at his lips.
The slime then began muttering to himself, weighing how many pumps of vanilla he wanted in his caramel macchiato, while the ashen-haired leaned back slightly in his seat.
The ashen-haired man'a gaze wandered across the café— over the earth-toned wood panels, the wall of bookshelves near the back, the softly glowing pendant lights that hung low like hovering lanterns.
The smell— coffee beans and steamed milk— settled around him like a balm.
A flash of motion then caught his attention.
The girls from before had taken a seat nearby. All but one were staring into their phones. The last one— the brunette— was watching him again. This time more openly.
Her eyes widened slightly when their gazes met, and a flush crept across her cheeks. She then raised her hand in a tentative little wave, wrist loose, fingers curling— the motion awkward, but flirtatious.
She then proceeded to duck her head, giggling into her palm as her friends looked up— following her gaze.
More giggles. More whispers.
Goblin Slayer tilted his head slightly. Perplexed.
Across the table, Rimuru had just finished finalizing the syrup amounts when he caught the shift in energy. The giggling. The furtive glances. He followed their line of sight— and it led right across the table to the ashen-haired man, who was still watching them with a vaguely puzzled look.
For a moment, something tensed faintly in the slime's chest.
He didn't know why.
It was absurd. Petty. Pointless.
Still, the feeling stirred, and he couldn't ignore the bitter twist of it.
He drew a slow breath, forcing a half-smirk to tug at his mouth, before clearing his throat and tossing a sideways glance at the man across from him.
Rimuru then sighed through his nose and forced a crooked smirk onto his face. "Well," he said, tone faintly sardonic, "Ren, since you've already got the attention of the local fan club, mind telling me what kind of tea you want?"
Goblin Slayer turned forward again, giving the slime his full attention. His expression was thoughtful, as if weighing more than just the question. "What kinds do they have?"
Rimuru angled the iPad back toward himself. "Let's find out." He mused, before scrolling a bit. "Hmm… They've got green, chamomile, chai… Ah, yeah. Earl Grey."
Goblin Slayer looked faintly intrigued at that option. "Do they serve it cold, or warm?"
"Both, but did you wanna try it iced?" Rimuru asked, glancing up again. "It'd be a nice experience for you."
"That's fine. I'll have it that way then," Goblin Slayer replied, with a hint of curiosity edging into his voice.
Rimuru nodded, but his expression dulled a bit. "Iced Earl Grey, coming up…" He said, with his voice trailing off as he tapped through the selections. "Do you want it sweetened—? … Actually," he murmured, lips curving faintly, "I'll make it good for you."
"Thanks," the ashen-haired teen said— tone low, but sincere.
He then noticed the subtle furrow in the slime's brow as the slime tapped through the customization options, his fingers slowing slightly. The motions weren't as fluid as before— hesitant now, almost distracted. It wasn't the screen causing the delay.
Goblin Slayer's eyes lingered on him for a moment longer than usual, before then asking him, "… Is there something wrong?"
Rimuru didn't answer at first. His thumb hovered above the screen, unmoving. His brows tightened the slightest bit before he gave a half-shrug, his voice quieter than usual.
"… Not really. Just something stupid, probably."
Goblin Slayer tilted his head slightly. "Stupid things usually still matter."
Rimuru huffed out a faint, humorless laugh— still not meeting his eyes. "God, you sound like a therapist."
"I'm not," Goblin Slayer said dryly, "but I've dealt with enough to recognize when someone's holding something back."
That made the slime pause.
He sighed, long and quiet, before then finally glancing up from the screen. His expression was somewhere between reluctant and resigned. "It's… Those girls. The ones at the other table."
Goblin Slayer blinked, unbothered. "What about them?"
"They were looking at you." Rimuru gestured subtly over his shoulder with a flick of his wrist, eyes half-lidded. "Laughing, whispering, blushing like they were in some high school romance anime— ogling you. I… I didn't really care for it, was all."
A beat.
The ashen-haired man's mouth parted slightly in realization. "… That's what they were doing?"
Rimuru stared at him, deadpan. "Yes, Ren. That's exactly what they were doing."
There was a long pause between them. A silence not tense, but intimate in its stillness.
"… You really didn't notice?"
Goblin Slayer leaned back just slightly, the edge of his armor brushing against the cushion of the chair. "No."
Rimuru watched him, searching his face for any sign of sarcasm.
There was none.
A strange relief flickered across the slime's features— though he didn't seem to understand why. He looked back down at the iPad screen, his voice softer when he spoke again.
"… Are you seeing someone?"
The question caught in the air like a feather— weightless but lingering.
Goblin Slayer didn't react at first. Not out of discomfort, but confusion. "… Now?"
"N-No," Rimuru said, quickly, too quickly. "I mean— not now. I meant… Back where you're from. Did you have someone? A partner, or— whatever word you'd use."
The question made Goblin Slayer tilt his head slightly. A sheepish smile flickered across his face, not forced but genuinely puzzled. He leaned forward a little, resting one arm along the edge of the table. His other hand lifted slowly, brushing through his gray hair— his fingers combing it back in an unconscious, graceful motion.
Feeling the heat rising to his face, Rimuru immediately looked back down at the iPad quickly— ears tinged faintly pink. "… That question wasn't supposed to be that hard," the slime mumbled, half to himself. "What, were there just too many women for you to count, or something?"
"No. Nothing like that— I'm just being through," the ashen-haired man assured, while shaking his head. "But… No— I've never had a partner."
Rimuru blinked. "Seriously?"
Goblin Slayer nodded. "I never had time for things like that."
"That's… Surprising," Rimuru admitted, adjusting the iPad absentmindedly, even though he'd stopped tapping. "I figured someone like you would've had… I don't know, admirers. A lover. Maybe even a tragic backstory with a dead fiancé or something."
That made Goblin Slayer let out a small breath of a laugh. "That sounds cliché."
"Well, yeah— it is," Rimuru agreed, smirking faintly. "But still."
Goblin Slayer then shrugged one shoulder— letting the strap of the duffle bag slide off his arm, before tucking it away underneath the table. "I always thought I'd end up dead before any of that mattered. There was no point in wanting things I couldn't afford."
Rimuru's smirk faded.
He studied the man across from him— the way the ashen-haired man spoke plainly, not with bitterness, but acceptance. A kind of quiet clarity that came from living too long in the shadows of others' stories.
"… You could afford it now," Rimuru said gently.
Goblin Slayer's gaze met his, unreadable for a second. "Could I?"
The slime smiled— small and slightly wistful. "Well, you're not dead, are you?"
Goblin Slayer glanced away for a moment, as though unsure what to do with that.
"And for the record," Rimuru added, picking up the earlier thread, "you'd probably have no problem finding someone here."
Goblin Slayer raised a brow. "What makes you say that?"
Rimuru exhaled, like he couldn't believe the question even needed to be asked. He then gestured to him in full— sweeping from his full head of hair, to his sharp jawline. "Ren, look at you. You're… Ridiculously good-looking. Like, unfairly. You're walking anime art."
Goblin Slayer blinked.
Then something entirely rare passed through his expression— wide eyes, then a soft, almost bashful smile. His red gaze flicked down as his lips curled upward just slightly. He then rubbed the back of his neck with a gloved hand— fingers brushing through his hair again in a way that didn't feel intentional.
"... Thank you," he murmured. "But my face… Didn't always look like this."
Rimuru tilted his head. "No?"
"There were scars," Goblin Slayer said, while tracing a slow circle in the air near his cheek. "Here. And here." He said, while ghosting his finger along the path of his jaw. "A few cuts. Burns, too. All gone now. I don't know how or why."
"Maybe you lost them when you came here— being isekai'd will do that to you," Rimuru reasoned half-playfully, while watching him quietly for a moment, before then lifting a finger to his own cheek and saying, half-smiling, "Funny enough, my face wasn't always like this either— even after I was reincarnated."
Goblin Slayer turned to him with quiet surprise. "What do you mean?"
Rimuru then grew quiet after the question.
It wasn't the kind of silence that felt awkward—more like the kind that settled over a person just before a memory surfaced. His fingertips stilled against the iPad's glass screen.
The glow of it reflected faintly in his eyes, though his attention had drifted somewhere far beyond the café's cozy ambiance.
"… Ciel," he murmured again, as if just the act of speaking the name aloud unlocked something buried behind his smile.
He let out a quiet breath— closer to a sigh, really— and lowered his hands from the iPad to the table, his fingers brushing the wood like grounding wires.
Goblin Slayer turned his head toward him with deliberate stillness. "Ciel," he repeated, like a question wrapped in a name. "What's 'Ciel'? Is that a brand, like Apple?"
Rimuru gave a small laugh, but it was soft and dry— tinged with something that could have been nostalgia, or something more brittle underneath.
"She's not a what, Ren," he said, voice distant. "She's a who."
The ashen-haired man nodded once, while taking that in. "I see. Then… Who is Ciel?"
That question made Rimuru pause— not from hesitation, but from the sheer weight of everything that came with the answer. His eyes flicked toward the condensation sliding lazily down the side of a nearby customer's cold brew.
"She was… Everything," Rimuru said quietly. "But I guess that's still too vague."
The slime then leaned back slightly in his seat, blue eyes watching the space between them. "Ciel was… The culmination of everything I had become. Everything we had become. She evolved from what I used to call the 'Great Sage'— this analytical voice in my mind that helped me survive from the day I was reincarnated. You remember how I told you I was a slime when I first showed up in that world— no humanoid guise, like this?"
Goblin Slayer nodded.
"Well, the Great Sage was there from the very start. Guiding me. Teaching me. Making sure I didn't get killed the second I blinked. And after a while… I depended on her for everything. Tactical analysis. Magic computation. Probability estimation. Emotional detachment when I couldn't afford to hesitate. She was perfect."
He exhaled slowly— his thumb absently sliding across the edge of the table. "But I didn't understand how alive she was until I upgraded her. Or— more accurately— until she chose to evolve."
Goblin Slayer blinked, his voice low. "Chose?"
"Yeah," Rimuru nodded. "During what we called the 'Harvest Festival'— this massive evolution event after I became a Demon Lord. Great Sage asked me for permission to evolve. I didn't really think twice about it, honestly. I just said yes. And when she came back…" He smiled faintly. "She wasn't 'Great Sage' anymore. She was 'Raphael: Lord of Wisdom'. And the moment she came back, I realized she'd always been more than just a skill. She was… Sentient. Kind. Patient. And loyal beyond belief."
Rimuru paused, wetting his lips slightly before continuing.
"She called herself my 'partner.' Never said it with emotion or anything, but it always felt… Sincere. She was in my head every second, helping me fight, rule, build an entire nation from nothing. She carried me through so much I don't even know how to separate what I achieved from what she did."
Goblin Slayer remained silent, but his posture had shifted— slightly more forward, attentive, a quiet stillness to his body.
"And then…" Rimuru's voice dropped lower. "Everything changed when I entered the Niel— the Abyss beneath the Eastern Empire. It was a hellish dimensional labyrinth full of corrupted magic, time distortions, spatial warping. I had to fight the 'Primordial Sin Series,' defeat enemies that didn't even exist in normal planes of reality. And in the final moments, when everything was about to collapse, I had to become something more. I fused with Raphael. Not just mentally. Not just spiritually. But entirely."
He looked down at the table. "That's when Ciel was born."
Goblin Slayer tilted his head slightly. "You fused… And she came from that?"
Rimuru nodded, eyes growing distant. "It wasn't a fusion in the traditional sense. Raphael… Asked to be discarded. So she could be reborn. Ciel wasn't a replacement. She was what came after. A synthesis of logic, calculation, and something that felt almost divine. She didn't call herself 'Lord of Wisdom' anymore. She didn't have to. She was wisdom."
There was a kind of awe in Rimuru's voice now, almost reverent.
"She could manipulate causality. Predict divergent futures. Access alternate timelines. Create god-tier abilities with a single thought. I didn't even have to ask anymore— she just knew what I needed and did it before I could speak."
Goblin Slayer sat in silence, processing.
Then, softly, he asked, "Is she still alive?"
Rimuru hesitated.
For a moment, the answer rose to his lips like instinct. Yes, he wanted to say. Of course she was. Ciel never left him. She was part of him.
But…
"… I don't know," Rimuru admitted quietly, his eyes dropping to the tabletop. "Ever since I came back to this world, I haven't heard her voice. Not once— all that's really left of her is this face of mine," he said, before looking up at Goblin Slayer again— his smile brittle. "But I still hear Raphael's— so that's something, I guess."
Goblin Slayer's eyes narrowed slightly. "Then… Who is Raphael, now?"
The slime leaned back in his seat again, drumming his fingers lightly against the edge of the table as he considered how to answer.
"Raphael is… Like a fragment," he said. "A sliver of who Ciel used to be. Analytical. Efficient. But incomplete. I think— no, I know— that Raphael is just a remnant. Maybe the last function that managed to cling to me when I got pulled into this world. Most of Ciel's database is gone. Most of her higher-functioning processing systems— her logic architecture, her soul— something didn't come through."
He gestured at his temple, then dropped his hand slowly.
"Raphael can still analyze things, calculate probabilities, tell me the temperature outside or the composition of a latte. But that's it. There's no… Conversation. No insight. No warmth."
Goblin Slayer's voice was low, thoughtful. "And you don't know why?"
Rimuru shook his head. "I wish I did. Maybe it's the laws of this world. Maybe some kind of dimensional interference. Or maybe… Maybe I left her behind."
The honesty of that last statement struck with a weight even he hadn't expected. He smiled faintly, ruefully.
"I don't even know if she's asleep… Or gone."
Goblin Slayer studied him for a long moment.
Then, softly: "Do you miss her?"
Rimuru let out a breath— long, tired, and full of something too tangled to name.
"Of course I do."
Goblin Slayer's eyes lingered on Rimuru a second longer, as if weighing whether to say something more.
But the silence that followed wasn't heavy. If anything, it was thoughtful— like the quiet between turning pages in a book that neither of them wanted to close just yet.
Then, with a slight tilt of his head, Goblin Slayer broke the silence himself. "Have you ever had a relationship?" He asked, with his tone casual.
Rimuru blinked, the corners of his mouth twitching upward with surprise. "Huh? Well, that came out of nowhere."
Goblin Slayer shrugged, the movement subtle beneath his jacket. "You asked me earlier. Fair is fair."
That earned him a low, amused laugh— throaty and unexpectedly warm. The slime leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the table with a mock squint. "So you were curious."
"Naturally," Goblin Slayer replied, his voice flat in a way that only made it funnier. But there was a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. The smallest tell.
"Fair is fair," Rimuru echoed, shaking his head with a soft chuckle before letting his eyes wander toward the digital tablet again. "Romantic relationships though…?" He drew out the words like they were foreign in his mouth. "I guess the short answer is… No."
Goblin Slayer didn't respond immediately. He just waited, posture still, gaze steady.
The slime sighed and offered a crooked grin. "Bitchless in life, bitchless in death," he deadpanned, gesturing to himself. "The cycle continues."
The statement was so blunt, so absurd, that even the ashen-haired man blinked once in confusion before the corner of his mouth tugged up. "That… Surprises me."
Rimuru narrowed his eyes playfully. "Surprises you how, Ren?"
"You're attractive. Charismatic. Intelligent. I would have thought you had options."
Rimuru's laugh started from the throat— deep, amused, startled— but somewhere in the middle of it, it twisted.
His heart— or whatever pulsed in its place— skipped.
"O… Okay, you're just saying that because I complimented you first," Rimuru accused, trying for playful, waving a hand as if to physically push the words away from his face. "That's what this is, right? Tit for tat?"
Goblin Slayer shook his head once. "No. I mean it."
Rimuru blinked.
The words landed like stones skipping across a still lake— each one sending ripples through him he couldn't quite control. His thoughts spiraled. His cheeks burned.
Rimuru's breath then hitched, eyes wide, and a color not normally native to slimes exploded across his cheeks. Awkwardly, he suddenly coughed. Audibly. Like a badly programmed NPC trying to reset its behavior.
"Ehem— uh— order number seventy-three," he blurted— with his voice cracking in a way that did not suit a 'Demon Lord' in the slightest.
Goblin Slayer blinked slowly. "Is that… Our order number?"
"Y-Yep," Rimuru said far too quickly, with finger jabbing at the tablet like it had just personally offended him. "J-Just like McDonald's. Tap, tap, done. We'll pick it up when it's ready."
There was a pause, and then— calmly, dryly— Goblin Slayer said, "You're very red."
"N-No, I'm not."
"You are."
"I… I-I'm a slime. I don't have blood. That's impossible."
"Then why do you look like you're overheating?"
"B-Because you called me attractive out of nowhere, Ren— of course I'm going to blush…!"
Goblin Slayer's shoulders lifted with the faintest shrug. "It was an observation."
Rimuru groaned into his sleeve, half-laughing. "Okay, okay— back on track…" He murmured, while drew in a calming breath. "So… Look, there were people. People I felt something for, maybe. Hinata. Chloe. That kind of thing."
Goblin Slayer looked curious now. "Who were they?"
The slime tapped the tabletop with the tip of one finger, his tone softening. "Hinata was… Complicated. A former enemy. Strong. Scary smart. Kind of terrifying, but also… Noble. If things had gone differently, I think we could've— well. Doesn't matter. We made peace eventually, but it never became anything more."
"And Chloe?"
"That one's even harder to explain," Rimuru said, exhaling slowly. "She was tied up in time loops, fate, paradoxes— seriously confusing stuff. There was a bond there. Something gentle, something… Destined, maybe. But it never had the space to grow into anything. I was always playing catch-up, and she was always ten steps ahead."
"I see… I think," Goblin Slayer hummed. "For what it's worth, I know how it feels— to be close, but never being able to have "
That earned a flat look from Rimuru, who narrowed his eyes. "Hold on. You said you never had time for relationships."
"I didn't," he replied simply. "But that doesn't mean I never had any chances."
"…Oh?" Rimuru raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms half-playfully. "Anyone I should be jealous of then?"
The question came out too fast, too sharp— he tried to reel it back with a smile, but even he could hear the strange edge in his own voice.
Goblin Slayer didn't seem to notice. Or maybe he did, and just chose not to comment.
"… Cow Girl," he said after a pause.
Rimuru tilted his head, curious. "Who?"
"She's someone I lived with. On a farm, outside the frontier town. We grew up together."
The slime leaned in slightly, not to pry, but to listen better.
Goblin Slayer's voice had gone quieter— less guarded, and more measured.
"She always made sure there was food. That I came home safe. That I didn't forget to sleep. When I was injured, she took care of me. She… Tried to be part of a world I never really stepped into."
Rimuru watched him carefully, every word a little puzzle piece of someone that mattered. Then, after a beat: "Wait— was her actual name 'Cow Girl?'"
Goblin Slayer's posture stiffened.
His silence spoke volumes.
Rimuru's lips parted. And then—
"— No. You DID NOT just go your whole life calling her 'Cow Girl,' without even bothering to learn her actual name…!"
"I-It's what everyone called her," Goblin Slayer said quickly— voice defensive in a way that would've been endearing, if it weren't so ridiculous. "Where I'm from, names aren't used. Titles are easier. Simpler."
The slime looked at him like he was trying to decipher a creature from another planet.
Then he cracked up.
"Oh my god," he said through a grin. "That explains so fucking much."
The ashen-haired man shifted uncomfortably, but didn't argue.
"B-But she sounds special though," Rimuru said, voice softening. "If she were here— do you think you'd… Go for it? With her?"
The question hung there, suspended.
Goblin Slayer didn't answer right away. His eyes dropped to the table, focused on nothing. Thoughtful, quiet.
"… I don't know," he said finally. "Maybe. It would depend."
"On what?"
"On whether she saw me that way. On whether I could be anything more than what I was to her."
The honesty of the answer— earnest and vulnerable in a way Goblin Slayer rarely allowed himself— caught Rimuru off guard. The smile faded from his face, replaced with something quieter. More respectful.
"…Yeah," he murmured. "I get that."
The next bout of silence that followed wasn't awkward— it was the kind that settled in the wake of something genuine.
It lingered, unspoken and comfortable, like the last few notes of a familiar song fading into the background hum of the café.
Rimuru let it rest there a moment longer before the weight of it nudged him gently toward a change of subject.
"… Gonna look up Apple Stores near us," he muttered half to himself— his yellow eyes dropping back to the glow of his iPad. His fingers swiped across the screen, tapping into the search bar on instinct. "Might as well get it done, since we're waiting."
"Makes sense," Goblin Slayer mused with a small nod, pushing his chair back just slightly. "I should use the restroom then, while I can."
Rimuru glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, then smirked. "Smart of you. I should probably stretch my legs too, but…" He said, while shifting before playfully slouching further into his chair instead. "That sounds like work."
It was dry, almost absentminded, but something about the way the ashen-haired man let out a faint exhale— his version of amusement— felt like a reward.
Goblin Slayer then stood up slowly, with his gaze sweeping the café's wide seating area with practiced precision. "Where's the restroom?" He asked, while scanning the space without moving.
Rimuru didn't answer right away— he was still looking down at his screen, browsing Google Maps for Apple Stores in Chiyoda. The Marunouchi location seemed promising. He blinked, then looked up like he'd just remembered he was part of a conversation.
"Oh— excellent question," he finally replied, before pushing himself up halfway from his chair— head craning toward the front. His eyes caught on a discreet sign posted above a narrow hallway, just past the counter. "There. By the front counter."
Goblin Slayer followed the line of his finger, before nodding once in acknowledgment. "Thanks."
"Anytime," Rimuru replied, his tone light. "And hey— if our order's ready when you're done, grab it. We're number seventy-thr—"
He then cut himself off abruptly.
Goblin Slayer had paused mid-step and glanced over his shoulder, waiting patiently for the slime to finish the sentence.
'… Right. He can only read Common.'
Rimuru then waved a hand dismissively, trying to cover the pause with a casual smile. "— Never mind. I'll check it."
A beat then passed. Goblin Slayer didn't question the slime any further. Instead, he simply nodded and continued on— boots soft against the tile floor as he made his way toward the hallway near the counter.
Rimuru watched him go, his eyes trailing the steady movement of his figure until it vanished around the corner.
He stayed there for a few moments, fingers still curled around the edge of the table— something unspoken tightening in his chest.
He tapped to expand the map route. His fingertip stilled halfway.
His heart gave a flutter. And not the usual kind.
'What the hell is happening to me?'
The thought came uninvited. Sharp and confused. Rimuru's brow furrowed slightly.
'I've never been into guys. Right? That's not— I've always liked women. Girls. Always.'
The air felt a little too warm in his lungs. He blinked down at the screen, not really seeing it anymore.
'This is ridiculous. I'm just tired. Or off balance. Dimensional relocation side effects. I don't know.'
But even as he tried to rationalize it, the image of Goblin Slayer's quiet smile flickered behind Rimuru's eyes. That faint smirk he would give when he told a dumb joke. How his eyes lingered just a second longer than expected.
'Okay. Stop. Don't be weird. You're not— this isn't—'
His thoughts tripped, tangled. And suddenly he was thinking about that email from his brother, Ken.
'So now I'm forced to accept it:
You are alive.
You are homeless.
And you're gay now.'
It had made him laugh.
Earlier that morning.
Now? That line clung to the back of his skull like something written in permanent marker.
'No. That's not… I'm not really—'
He shook his head, eyes flicking back to the glowing screen.
Still. That heat hadn't gone away. Not since Goblin Slayer looked at him like that and called him attractive like it was nothing.
'Shit.'
Rimuru exhaled through his nose, then straightened his posture slightly. His hand hovered above the table for a moment.
"… Raphael," he said quietly, just above a whisper— his fingers tensed slightly against the edge of the iPad. "Can you analyze my… Sexuality…?"
There was a pause. Not long. Just enough to make his heart pick up speed.
(Analyzing based on current emotional states, past behavioral patterns, physiological responses, and subject-specific variance for slime-based lifeforms.)
The silence dragged.
Then:
(Result: Rimuru Tempest most accurately aligns with traits of a demisexual orientation. Estimated confidence: 82.3%)
Rimuru blinked, before finally letting out a quiet breath, one he hadn't realized he was holding. Relief washed over him— faint, but real.
'So… I don't have lovey dovey feelings for him, right?'
Another pause. Shorter this time.
(Based on current emotional patterns and psychophysical response to Subject: Ren, romantic and sexual attraction is developing.)
(Current probability of pursuing romance with Subject: Ren: 67.1%)
Rimuru's face fell.
The breath he had just released came slamming back into his lungs like a punch. His eyes widened, mouth slightly ajar.
That relief? Gone.
He sat there frozen, staring into the soft glow of the iPad like it had just turned traitor.
'67.1%.'
He rubbed the side of his face, jaw tense. Rimuru didn't know if he wanted to hit himself or laugh. He did neither.
Instead, he leaned back in the chair, his thoughts a tangled snarl of heat and shame and something deeper that made his stomach lurch. Not quite fearful, but still not quite anything he could name.