"Meet me on the rooftop. Alone."
Fiona's voice carried through the classroom like a stone dropped into still water. She hadn't whispered it. Hadn't kept it private. She'd said it loud enough for everyone still lingering to hear.
The room went silent.
Heads turned.
Eyes widened.
"What... what does that mean?" someone whispered from the back.
"Is she trying to join Yuuta's harem or something?" another voice muttered.
"Bro, what kind of sorcery is this? First he's married to a goddess, now the class idol wants a private rooftop meeting?"
"This guy is living in a different novel than the rest of us."
Yuuta didn't hear any of it.
His mind was too busy short-circuiting.
Rooftop? Alone? Why? What did I do? Did I accidentally stalk her again? Is she going to push me off? Is this how I die—pushed off a building by the girl I used to crush on?
Fiona didn't wait for a response.
She just turned and walked out.
Leaving Yuuta standing there with his mouth open and approximately forty-seven questions racing through his brain.
The stairwell was empty.
Yuuta climbed alone, his footsteps echoing off concrete walls, each step taking him higher, further from the ordinary world of classrooms and cafeterias and students who whispered behind his back. The door to the sixth floor loomed ahead. Beyond it, the rooftop. Beyond it, Fiona.
Beyond it, answers to questions he hadn't thought to ask.
He pushed the door open.
The wind hit him first—cool, sharp, carrying the scent of the city below. The rooftop stretched out before him, a flat expanse of gravel and concrete dominated by a massive water tank and surrounded by waist-high railings. Beyond those railings, the city of Luna sprawled in every direction, buildings gleaming in the early evening light.
And there, at the edge, stood Fiona.
She faced away from him, her gaze fixed on the distant skyline. Her dark hair moved gently in the breeze. Her posture was stiff, controlled, like someone holding themselves together through sheer force of will.
The black stone at her neck caught the light.
Yuuta didn't notice.
He was too busy trying to breathe.
"Hey... Fiona." His voice came out between gasps. He'd climbed too fast, and his lungs were letting him know about it. "Sorry—give me a—second—"
Fiona didn't turn.
Didn't move.
Didn't acknowledge him at all.
Yuuta leaned against the water tank, catching his breath, watching her. Something was wrong. He could feel it—that same instinct that had warned him about Erza's rage, about the lions, about danger he couldn't see. Fiona was different today. Not the confident, untouchable class idol everyone knew. Something else.
Something... troubled.
She raised her hand.
Touched the black stone at her throat.
Rubbed it gently, like a worry stone, like a prayer.
And when she spoke, her voice was steady.
"You took too long."
Yuuta straightened.
"Sorry. Six floors is a lot when you're not used to it." He managed a weak smile. "How do you climb this without even sweating?"
Fiona turned.
For a moment—just a moment—her expression was unreadable.
Then she smiled.
It wasn't her usual smile. Not the confident, charming smile that made five fan clubs worship her. This was smaller. Quieter. Almost... sad.
She looked away again, toward the city.
"I come up here a lot," she said quietly. "It's the only place where no one watches. No one whispers. No one expects anything from me."
Yuuta didn't know what to say to that.
So he said nothing.
Just stood there.
Waiting.
The silence stretched between them—not uncomfortable, but heavy. Full of things unsaid.
Then—
"Yuuta."
Her voice was different now.
Softer.
More vulnerable.
"Do you... do you still love me?"
The words hit him like a physical blow.
He blinked.
Stared.
"Pardon?"
Fiona turned to face him fully. Her amber eyes held his, and in them he saw something he'd never expected to see—genuine feeling. Real emotion. Not the cold distance of the class idol. Not the irritated glances from earlier.
Something raw.
"I'm saying..." She took a breath. "I love you, Yuuta. Let's run away together. Just you and me. Start a new life somewhere else. Away from all of this."
Yuuta's brain stopped working.
Completely.
Full system failure.
"Wait—wait—WHAT?" He held up his hands, stepping back. "What is this? Why are you saying this? Run away? Suddenly? Fiona, are you okay?"
Her hand moved to the black stone again.
She touched it.
Breathed.
The desperation in her eyes flickered—just for a moment—and something else surfaced. Something like confusion. Like she wasn't entirely in control of what she was saying.
"Listen," Yuuta continued, still backing away. "I don't know why you're saying this, but I already have a wife. And honestly? I don't think she'd react well to... to this kind of suggestion."
Fiona stared at him.
Then—
"Do you believe in ghosts?"
Yuuta blinked.
"What?"
"And witches." Her voice was urgent now. "Do you believe in monsters? In supernatural things?"
"That's—that's a sudden change of subject."
"Answer me, Yuuta."
He looked at her.
Really looked.
There was something in her eyes that he couldn't name. Something that reminded him of himself—of the way he looked when he thought about Erza. Confused. Desperate. Trapped.
He thought about his answer.
Years ago—before the orphanage, before Dr. Jenny, before Erza—he would have laughed at the question. Ghosts? Monsters? Supernatural? Those were stories. Fairy tales. Things that didn't exist.
But now?
Now he had a wife who was a dragon.
Now he had a daughter with wings and a tail.
Now he had seen magic with his own eyes.
"To be honest..." He looked down at his hands. The hands that had held a queen's. "If you'd asked me this years ago, my answer would have been different. But now?" He looked up. "I believe. In all of it. Ghosts, monsters, devils—they exist. I know they exist."
Fiona's eyes widened.
"Then maybe you'll believe me when I say..." She stepped closer. "Your wife is not normal."
Yuuta froze.
"What?"
"Your wife." Fiona's voice dropped. "She's a monster, Yuuta. A true monster. A witch, or a demon, or something worse. She's cast some spell on you—made you think you're her husband, made you forget who you really are."
Yuuta's face twisted.
Not in anger.
In horror.
Because Fiona was not fully right but she is not away from truth.
About everything.
And she couldn't possibly know that.
"That's..." He laughed. A nervous, shaky laugh. "That's a funny joke, Fiona. For a second I almost believed you."
She didn't smile.
"I'm not joking, Yuuta. I know she's done something to you. I can feel it. Everyone can feel it. She's not what she seems. She'll devour you—your soul, your mind, everything you are."
Yuuta's nervous smile held.
Barely.
"Wow." His voice cracked. "You should really start writing novels, Fiona. That's some talent you've got there. Horror, right? Really good horror."
Fiona's face hardened.
Her hand shot out.
SLAP.
The sound echoed across the rooftop.
Yuuta's head snapped to the side. His cheek burned. His eyes went wide.
"IDIOT!"
Fiona's voice shook with a desperation that cut through the evening air like a blade. Her hands gripped his shirt, her amber eyes blazing with something between fury and terror.
"Do you think I'm playing with you?! Do you think this is a game?! I'm telling you—she's a MONSTER! Why can't you understand?! We have to get rid of her!"
Get rid of her.
The words echoed in Yuuta's mind.
Get rid of Erza.
Get rid of the Dragon Queen.
Get rid of the woman who saved me, healed me, stood between me and death.
His thoughts spiraled.
What does she mean? Is it possible? Can someone actually save me from Erza? What agency was she talking about?
A flicker of hope ignited in his chest.
If there's an agency—people who deal with things like her—maybe I could escape. Maybe I could go back to normal. Maybe I could—
He stopped.
A memory hit him.
Erza eating steak at his tiny table, complaining about the seasoning but finishing every bite.
Erza watching TV in the corner of his living room, curled up like a cat, her cold eyes softening at some stupid documentary.
Elena laughing, hugging his leg, calling him Papa.
The zoo. The lions. The way Erza had moved faster than light to save him.
The way she'd held his hand.
The hope flickered.
Wavered.
Died.
Do I really need help?
He thought about his life before them. The empty apartment. The silent evenings. The loneliness that had wrapped around him like a second skin. The way he'd talked to his car because there was no one else to talk to.
Even if I die in one year...
He looked at Fiona.
At her desperate face.
At the fear in her eyes.
At least I'm not alone anymore.
---
He touched his cheek.
The spot where she'd slapped him still burned.
"Why..." His voice was quiet. Too quiet for the intensity of the moment. "Why do you care so much about me?"
Fiona went silent.
Her lips parted.
Nothing came out.
"What's wrong with you?" Yuuta continued, his voice gaining strength. "Why now? After all this time treating me like a friend—like less than a friend—suddenly you want to marry me? Suddenly you want to run away together?"
"That's not what I meant!" Fiona's voice rose. "I'm trying to tell you—she's a monster! She cast a spell on you! You're not thinking clearly!"
"STOP IT!"
The words exploded from him.
Fiona flinched.
"Stop calling her a monster." Yuuta's voice shook. "She might be what you say. She might be something from another world, something dangerous, something that could kill me without a second thought."
He took a breath.
"But she's never hurt me. Not really. Not where it counts."
His eyes met hers.
"Do you know what I did to her? What I'm responsible for?"
Fiona shook her head slowly.
"I deserve death," Yuuta said quietly. "No—more than death. I deserve whatever she decides to do with me."
"Yuuta, why can't you understand—"
"CAN'T YOU STOP THIS ACT?!"
His voice cracked.
"I know I loved you once. I know I followed you around like a lost puppy. I know I made a fool of myself for you."
Tears pricked at his eyes—not from sadness, but from frustration. From exhaustion. From the weight of everything.
"But this... this behaviour... it makes me hate you."
Fiona's face went pale.
"Don't take away my only comfort." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Please. Don't take them from me."
"You'll die by her hand," Fiona whispered.
"Then I'll die."
He straightened.
Looked at her one last time.
"Better to die by her hand than die of loneliness again, Fiona."
He turned.
Walked toward the staircase.
"Yuuta!" Fiona's voice followed him, desperate. "I promise you—I'll save you from her! You'll see! I'll find a way!"
He paused at the door.
Glanced back.
Her figure was silhouetted against the evening sky, small and determined and completely misunderstanding everything.
"Do whatever you want, Fiona." His voice was flat. Tired. Empty. "I don't care anymore."
The door closed behind him.
His footsteps faded down the stairs.
---
Fiona stood alone on the rooftop.
The wind pulled at her hair.
The black stone at her neck pulsed once—twice—then stilled.
She touched it.
Felt its warmth.
"I will save you," she whispered to the empty air. "Even if you hate me for it. Even if you never understand. I'll save you from her."
Below, the city hummed with its evening rhythms.
And somewhere in that city, a dragon queen sat in a tiny apartment, waiting for a mortal to come home.
---
To be continued...