January 25, 2015.
Beijing, Dongcheng District.
Tempest Café.
3:47 p.m.
The café had gone quiet.
Not literally—there were still customers chatting, still the hiss of the espresso machine, still the princess humming off-key in the kitchen.
But for Rimuru, the world had narrowed to a single point.
The woman with pink hair and blue eyes was sitting at a table near the window.
She was stirring her tea with a small silver spoon.
She was smiling.
She was here.
THE RECOGNITION
Rimuru knew exactly who she was.
Lucia Nava.
Wife of Veldanava.
Mother of Milim.
The woman whose death had nearly caused the destruction of the multiverse.
The woman whose soul had been scattered across infinite worlds.
The woman who was supposed to be inside the Imaginary Space with her husband, reading light novels and complaining about the pacing.
She was here.
In his café.
Drinking tea.
THE DENIAL
Rimuru did the only thing he could think of.
He pretended not to know her.
He walked over to her table with his best customer-service smile—the one that said I am a professional barista and I have never seen you before in my existence—and asked:
"Is everything to your liking, ma'am?"
Lucia looked up.
Her blue eyes sparkled with amusement.
"Ma'am?" she repeated.
Rimuru's smile didn't waver.
"Is there something wrong with the tea?"
Lucia set down her spoon.
"The tea is lovely. But the service is a bit... cold."
She tilted her head.
"You know, for someone who once sealed my husband in an infinite void, you're being surprisingly formal."
THE PANIC
[Ciel's voice appeared in Rimuru's mind.]
"She knows."
'I know she knows!'
"She's going to tell Veldanava."
'Veldanava probably already knows!'
"You should probably say something."
'I don't know what to say!'
"Say hello. It's basic social interaction."
'I can't just say hello! She's supposed to be in the Imaginary Space! How is she here?'
"She's Lucia Nava. She's always been able to do things she shouldn't."
'That doesn't help!'
THE COMPOSURE
Rimuru cleared his throat.
"I'm afraid you have me confused with someone else," he said smoothly. "I'm just a café owner. I don't know anything about sealing husbands in voids."
Lucia's smile widened.
"Really? That's strange. Because I could have sworn you were the Great Demon Lord Rimuru Tempest, ruler of the Jura Tempest Federation, the being who defeated Veldanava in single combat."
She paused.
"Or at least, that's the story you've been telling people."
Rimuru's eye twitched.
"Who told you that?"
Lucia shrugged.
"I have my sources."
THE ACCUSATION
Wang Li was watching from behind the counter.
She had no idea who the pink-haired woman was, but she could tell something was wrong.
Rimuru looked uncomfortable.
Not angry.
Not afraid.
Uncomfortable.
Like a child who had been caught doing something they shouldn't.
The woman leaned forward.
"You know," she said, her voice light and conversational, "my daughter told me you've been lying about the battle with Veldanava."
Rimuru's composure cracked.
"Milim told you?"
"Milim tells me everything. Eventually. After she's done eating whatever snacks she's stolen."
Lucia's blue eyes twinkled.
"She said you told someone that you fought for three days and three nights. That you bled. That you starved."
She paused.
"Milim thought that was very funny."
Rimuru's face went red.
"I was... embellishing."
"You were lying."
"I was creating a compelling narrative."
THE CUP
Lucia picked up her teacup.
She examined it for a moment.
Then she threw it at him.
The cup flew through the air with surprising speed.
Rimuru didn't dodge.
He could have dodged.
He had dodged attacks from beings that could erase galaxies.
But he didn't dodge.
The cup hit him square in the chest.
Hot tea splashed across his dress.
His hair.
His face.
For a long moment, no one moved.
Then Rimuru sighed.
"Was that necessary?"
Lucia smiled sweetly.
"Very."
THE COMPLAINT
Rimuru stood there, soaked.
The tea was dripping from his silver-blue hair, running down his face in amber rivulets.
The customers were staring.
The princess had emerged from the kitchen and was watching with wide eyes.
Wang Li was trying very hard not to laugh.
"This dress," Rimuru said slowly, "was a gift from Milim."
Lucia raised an eyebrow.
"Really?"
"Yes. She gave it to me after the battle with Veldanava. She said it would make me look 'less like a slime and more like a proper ruler.'"
This was a lie.
The dress was from a random store in a random city on a random world.
But Rimuru was hoping that mentioning Milim would make Lucia feel guilty.
It didn't.
"Milim has terrible fashion sense," Lucia said. "She probably just wanted to see you in a dress."
Rimuru's eye twitched.
"That's... also possible."
THE MATERNAL INSTINCT
Lucia stood.
She walked over to Rimuru and began patting him down with a napkin.
"You're a mess," she said, her voice shifting from teasing to genuinely concerned. "Did the tea burn you? Let me see."
Rimuru tried to push her away.
"I'm fine. It's just tea."
"Don't be stubborn. You might have blisters."
"I don't get blisters. I'm a spiritual life form."
"That doesn't mean you can't be hurt."
"It literally does."
Lucia ignored him.
She continued dabbing at his face with the napkin.
"You haven't changed at all," she said softly. "Still pretending you're invincible. Still pushing people away. Still pouting when things don't go your way."
Rimuru's face flushed.
"I do not pout."
"You're pouting right now."
"I am not!"
THE TREATMENT
She was treating him like a child.
Worse.
Like a daughter.
"Hold still," she said, wiping a strand of wet hair from his face. "You look like a drowned kitten."
"I don't look like a kitten. I look like a powerful ancient being."
"You look like a teenager who got caught in the rain."
Rimuru glared at her.
"I'm older than your grandmother."
Lucia laughed.
"My grandmother was a concept. You're not older than a concept."
She paused.
"Probably."
THE OBSERVATION
Wang Li watched the exchange with fascination.
She had never seen Rimuru like this.
He was flustered.
Not afraid.
Not angry.
Flustered.
Like someone had pulled the rug out from under him and he didn't know how to react.
"Who is she?" Wang Li whispered to the princess.
The princess shook her head.
"I don't know. But she threw a cup at Lord Rimuru and he didn't kill her. That means she's either very powerful or very important."
She paused.
"Probably both."
THE NAP
When Lucia finally stopped fussing over him, Rimuru was thoroughly exhausted.
Not physically—his body didn't experience fatigue the way mortals did.
But emotionally?
Emotionally, he was drained.
"Are you done?" he asked.
Lucia stepped back and examined her work.
His hair was still damp, but the tea had been wiped away.
His dress was stained, but that could be fixed with magic.
He looked, she decided, less like a drowned kitten now.
"Almost," she said.
She reached up and adjusted his collar.
"There. Now you look presentable."
Rimuru sighed.
"Why are you here?"
Lucia's smile softened.
"Can't a woman visit her favorite son?"
Rimuru's eye twitched.
"I'm not your son."
"Son, daughter, whatever. You know what I mean."
"I really don't."
THE APPEARANCE
Lucia looked at him for a long moment.
Then she reached out and pinched his cheek.
"You're cute when you're annoyed."
Rimuru swatted her hand away.
"I am not cute. I am terrifying. I have destroyed civilizations."
"You've also been playing video games with a fifteen-year-old demon princess."
"That's... that's different."
"Is it?"
"Yes! Video games are a legitimate form of stress relief!"
Lucia laughed.
The sound was like bells.
"Whatever you say, Rimuru. Whatever you say."
THE EXPLANATION
Later, after the café had closed and the customers had gone home, Lucia finally explained why she was here.
"Veldanava sent me," she said.
Rimuru's expression darkened.
"Of course he did."
"He wanted to check on you. Make sure you weren't causing too much trouble."
"I'm not causing trouble. I'm running a café."
"You kicked a cultivator through four buildings."
"That was self-defense!"
Lucia raised an eyebrow.
"He was five inches tall."
"He wasn't five inches tall when I kicked him!"
THE CONVERSATION
They sat at a table near the back of the café.
The princess had been sent to clean the kitchen.
Wang Li had gone home, claiming she needed rest.
It was just the two of them.
"I'm not here to scold you," Lucia said.
Rimuru snorted.
"Could've fooled me."
"Veldanava is worried. About the doctor. About the situation. About what it means that a mortal can see through invisibility arts."
Rimuru frowned.
"She's not just a mortal. She's reincarnated. Multiple times. There's something about her soul."
Lucia nodded.
"I know. That's what concerns him."
She paused.
"He thinks she might be connected to something. Something from before."
THE WARNING
Rimuru's expression grew serious.
"Before what?"
Lucia met his eyes.
"Before the war. Before the separation of the realms. Before everything."
She leaned forward.
"There are things even you don't know, Rimuru. Things that were buried long ago. Things that are starting to wake up."
Rimuru was silent.
Then he said, "Is that why you're here? To warn me?"
Lucia smiled.
"I'm here because I missed you."
She reached across the table and took his hand.
"And because someone needs to make sure you're eating properly. You look thin."
Rimuru stared at her.
"I don't need to eat."
"Everyone needs to eat. It's good for the soul."
THE NAP
Lucia stayed at the café for another hour.
She helped Rimuru clean up.
She made tea.
She told him about the Imaginary Space—about the library, about the books, about Veldanava's complaints regarding pacing and power scaling.
And then, when the night had fully fallen and the city outside was a constellation of lights, she yawned.
"I should go," she said.
Rimuru looked at her.
"Back to the Imaginary Space?"
Lucia shook her head.
"Not yet. I want to explore this world a little first."
She stood and stretched.
"But first, I need a nap. Traveling between dimensions is exhausting."
Rimuru raised an eyebrow.
"Where are you going to sleep?"
Lucia looked at him.
And then she smiled.
"You have a couch, don't you?"
THE COUCH
She slept on the café's couch.
She used Rimuru's jacket as a blanket.
She was asleep within minutes.
Rimuru stood in the dark café, staring at the sleeping woman.
The woman who was supposed to be dead.
The woman whose soul he had helped restore.
The woman who had thrown a cup at him and then pinched his cheek like he was a misbehaving child.
He didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
So he did neither.
He just stood there, watching her breathe.
And for the first time in a very long time, he felt something he couldn't name.
Something warm.
Something soft.
Something that felt a lot like home.