Forbidden Honeymoon: Reincarnated as a Slime, Yet I Can't Let Go of Her Fingers
Rimuru, a second-year high school student, is suddenly reincarnated as a slime.
He wakes up in a deep, dark dungeon room. His body is blue and translucent, with no limbs. He can't speak properly. Milene and Chloe, female adventurers who hunt monsters, find him.
They casually tame Rimuru as a 'cute slime.' As they travel together, Rimuru's role becomes not about fighting... but about what happens inside the tent at night. Milene and Chloe begin to unleash a sticky, possessive desire onto the sl
Forbidden Honeymoon: Reincarnated as a Slime, Yet I Can't Let Go of Her Fingers - I Won't Hand Him Over — The Receptionist Who Fell for a Blue Body and the Clash of Possessiveness
The leather pouch was heavy.
Mirene's shadow stretched long across the cobblestones of Falkenhardt. The city at dusk was tinged with red, and the wagons of passing merchants clattered noisily over the stone. Her steps were sluggish, and with each one, the request documents tucked into the leather bag over her shoulder felt heavier, more burdensome.
(*Three days already.*)
She touched the old streetlamp at the corner of the alley, and the cold sensation of iron met her fingertips. Three full days since that dawn when Chloe had left. She had waited motionless at the campsite. For her to come back. For the sound of knocking at the door. For that familiar small voice. But no one came.
Inside the pouch, Rimuru lay perfectly still. Mirene's body heat, seeping through the cloth, felt even hotter than it had these past three days. It was proof that the Stigma of flame manipulation smoldering within her body was beginning to lose control, responding to her emotions.
(*Chloe is still—*)
Rimuru murmured in his heart. He hadn't seen that silver hair he'd felt so close, or those deep blue eyes, for three days now. The voice etched into his own body—*you were the only one who never called me useless*—trembled faintly within the golden points of light.
The guild's stone building came into view across the street. It was a large, four-story structure, and orange light spilled from the first-floor windows. Above the front door hung a crest of a shield and sword crossed.
"I'm going in..."
Mirene placed a hand on the pouch, unconsciously pressing Rimuru deeper inside. Then, she pushed open the heavy wooden door.
Inside the guild, the air was thick with the bustle of closing time and the scent of ale drifting from the tavern. The backs of adventurers searching for requests at the bulletin board, the laughter of a party receiving their reward at the counter, boisterous chatter echoing from the second-floor dining hall.
A single woman sat at the reception counter.
Her bright golden twintails swayed softly every time she moved her head. The ribbon tying her hair was a pale pink today, and the star-shaped earring on her left ear sparkled, reflecting the counter's lamplight. Her large green eyes stared intently at the face of the adventurer standing before her, then quickly dropped to the documents.
"Yes, next please! Are you here to collect a reward? Or is it a new request?"
Ema's voice was singularly bright amidst the tired air of the guild. Mirene approached the counter wordlessly, pulled the request form from her leather bag, and held it out. The edges of the paper were slightly blurred with sweat.
In that instant—
Ema's movements stopped.
Her gaze wasn't on the request form. It was fixed, across the counter, precisely on the pouch at Mirene's waist. A faint blue light spilled from a gap in the cloth. That light was a deep, clear blue, unlike any other slime. And deep within it, tiny golden points of light flickered.
Ema's entire body grew hot.
(*What—is this—*)
She felt her heart pound like a frantic bell. In all her nineteen years of life, she had never felt a sensation like this. It wasn't fear, nor surprise. It was simply—being drawn in.
Ema placed the request form on the desk and stood up, almost unconsciously. Then, leaning her body over the counter, she stared intently at Mirene's pouch.
"—What happened to that slime?"
Ema herself was surprised that her voice was trembling. Mirene immediately pressed a hand over the pouch and took a step back. Her amber eyes narrowed sharply.
"It's none of your business."
Her voice was low and piercing. But Ema didn't back down. If anything, that rejection ignited something within her. Ever since she was a child, she'd always been told she was just a cute girl. But for the first time, she had found something she truly wanted.
"That slime—could you let me have it?"
The movements of the adventurers around the counter stopped all at once.
A warrior who had been looking at the bulletin board turned around. The clamor from the tavern fell silent, as if it were a lie. The air grew taut.
For a moment, Mirene was at a loss for words. The next instant, her body temperature spiked sharply. The Stigma crest on the back of her right hand began to glow faintly red.
"—Hah?"
Her voice was almost a growl.
Ema came out from behind the counter and stood before Mirene. There was nearly ten centimeters of height difference between them. Yet Ema lifted her face and stared straight back into those amber eyes.
"This isn't work. I'm asking you personally."
Ema bowed her head deeply. Her twintails, pulled by gravity, fell over her shoulders. The dozen or so adventurers in the lobby held their breath. A guild receptionist directly confronting a Stigma bearer with a demand—no one had ever witnessed such a scene.
Rimuru trembled inside the pouch.
Ema's voice seeped directly through the cloth and into his jelly-like body. It was different from Mirene's burning, possessive heat, different from Chloe's heartbreaking fragility—a pure, unclouded, direct heat.
(*Again—because of me.*)
The points of light within his body began to flicker irregularly. Feeling this heat, the instincts of a slime stirred and reared their head. The urge to be drawn to her body heat, to get closer. He desperately suppressed it with reason, but for a body that had endured three days of Chloe's absence and Mirene's silence, it was an overwhelmingly strong temptation.
"What could you possibly understand?"
Mirene's voice echoed through the lobby. There was none of her usual big-sister composure. Her emotions were laid completely bare.
"I tamed him. He's mine. For a mere guild receptionist to just say 'let me have him'—"
"That's not what this is about."
Ema raised her face. Her large green eyes were faintly glistening. But deep within them resided a strong, determined light.
"That slime—isn't ordinary. The moment I saw those eyes, I understood everything. Even if he can't speak, he's really looking. When he gazes at you, it's like he can see right through your heart—"
Her voice became rapid. It was a habit of hers when she entered her love mode.
"I always thought I'd end up as just a cute girl. I've never once seriously competed with anyone for something. But—this is the first time. The first time I've found something I truly want. So—"
Mirene stepped forward. Her fist was trembling. The moment she moved to grab her—
"That's enough!!"
Another receptionist stepped between the two of them. A middle-aged male staff member held Mirene's shoulder. But Mirene's body temperature rose further, and the staff member who touched her instinctively pulled his hand back.
The adventurers in the lobby formed a ring, watching. Everyone held their breath, staring tensely, waiting to see what would happen next.
With a trembling hand, Ema touched the star-shaped earring on her left ear. Her favorite, bought with her first paycheck—the day she had sworn to herself that she would live by her own will from now on.
"I... I hate losing."
Tears spilled from her large green eyes. But her voice did not waver.
"Because for the first time in my life, I've found something I truly want—I absolutely won't give up."
Rimuru caught his breath—he had no lungs. But a shock close to it ran through his entire jelly-like body.
(*This person—she really is...*)
The way Ema's voice trembled was different from Chloe's, and different from Mirene's. A pure desire, without calculation. Not trying to possess someone, not trying to depend on someone. Just—*I want it*. That single sentiment overflowed from her entire being.
The points of light within Rimuru's body shone stronger than ever before. His slime instincts threatened to be drawn in by Ema's body heat—but just before that, he also sensed Mirene's desperate heat simultaneously.
(*I'm—*)
(*just a slime.*)
(*Why is this happening?*)
Inside the pouch, Rimuru's body continued to tremble minutely.
Mirene, held back, found herself unable to move. Ema's words—their purity and directness—collided head-on with her own emotions, twisted by possessiveness and guilt. The regret of losing Chloe. The word "useless" she had spat out herself. All of it swirled in her head.
"...To someone like you..."
The words of rebuttal wouldn't come. Before Ema's direct gaze, wet with tears, the words stuck in her throat and wouldn't emerge.
Just then—
"Ema, come here for a moment."
The branch chief, who had come down from the second floor, called Ema with a stern face. Ema wiped her tears with her sleeve and took a deep breath. Then, she turned back toward Mirene.
"...I'll come again tomorrow. Definitely."
It was a declaration of war.
As Ema was led away by the branch chief and disappeared into the back, the tension in the lobby eased slightly. The adventurers began to buzz with conversation. Mirene silently finished processing the request form and tried to leave the guild quickly—at that moment.
"Ah, Miss Mirene. Where's your partner, Miss Chloe?"
The young male staff member handling the paperwork asked casually.
Mirene's feet stopped.
"...She's not here."
Saying only that, she pushed open the guild door and fled into the twilight city.
The streets were completely dark now. The lamplight traced vague circles on the cobblestones. Mirene entered a back alley, leaned her back against the wall, and slid down into a sitting position.
Then, she took Rimuru out of the pouch.
The clear blue jelly glowed faintly on her palm. The golden points of light within his body flickered softly.
"...I won't hand you over. I'll never hand you over."
She pressed Rimuru against her chest. The way she held him was the same desperate, clinging manner as that dawn when she lost Chloe. The irregular tremor of her heartbeat transmitted directly into his jelly-like body. Hot. Yet, somehow cold.
"Chloe too—you too—everyone leaves me..."
Within the points of light inside him, Rimuru remembered Chloe's words.
—*You were the only one who never called me useless.*
Those were the words Mirene needed most right now, too. But Rimuru had no voice. He had no means to convey them. All he could do was return her warmth there against her chest.
(*Chloe—where are you?*)
(*Are you crying, all alone?*)
The golden points of light, unable to regain their former brilliance, were darkly blurred. And there, a new heat was being etched—Ema's direct voice, and the body heat of pure desire.
The heat of three women.
Mirene's possessive heat. The coldness of Chloe's absence. Ema's pure heat.
All of it swirled simultaneously within Rimuru's small body. The powerlessness of being a slime. The ethics from when he was human. And—an instinct he couldn't resist.
"...You, at least, stay by my side."
Mirene's trembling whisper seeped deep into the core of Rimuru's jelly.
Rimuru looked up at the night sky—he had no eyes. But the lamplight caught by the golden points of light looked almost like distant stars.
(*Chloe isn't coming back—*)
(*Ema came at me like that—*)
(*What is even right anymore—*)
No answer came. There was no way one could. Only the fact that his existence had once again driven a wedge between people sank heavily into his jelly body.
Beyond the alley, the night watch bell tolled.
Another day was about to end. Yet, nothing was resolved. Chloe was still missing. Ema said she would come again tomorrow. Mirene's loneliness had deepened further.
Trembling faintly against Mirene's chest, Rimuru could do nothing but endure the weight of the three heats etched into his body.
The night wind blew through the alley.
It was cold, mingled with the scent of the tide somewhere, as if it tasted of tears.
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