Yuuta stepped outside and closed the door behind him.
The click of the lock echoed in the empty hallway, final and absolute. He stood there for a moment, his hand still resting on the door handle, his forehead pressed against the cool wood.
What am I doing?
The question drifted through his mind, but he had no answer. Or rather, he had too many answers, all of them painful, all of them leading back to the same place.
She doesn't love me.
She never did.
I was just fooling myself.
He pushed off from the door.
Walked down the hallway.
Down the stairs.
Out into the evening air.
The neighborhood was alive with the quiet hum of night settling in. Families sat on porches, sharing stories. Children played in fading light. An old man waved at him from across the street.
"Evening, Yuuta! Off to work?"
"Yes, Mr. Konuari." Yuuta managed a small wave. "Have a good night."
"You too, san. You too."
He walked on.
Past the familiar streets.
Past the corner store with its flickering sign.
Past the park where children's laughter still echoed.
His feet carried him automatically toward MoonBucks—the little cafe where he'd worked for years, where the smell of coffee and pastries had become almost like home. It was 7:00 PM. His shift started in thirty minutes. Plenty of time.
Plenty of time to think.
Plenty of time to hurt.
He didn't notice the bush shaking as he passed.
Didn't notice the shadow that had been waiting there for over an hour.
Didn't notice the figure that emerged the moment he was gone and walked straight toward his apartment building.
His mind was elsewhere.
Lost in violet eyes and cold words and the death of a hope he'd never admitted he had.
---
The shadow climbed the stairs.
Silent.
Determined.
Watching.
It reached Yuuta's door.
A hand raised.
Knuckles met wood.
Knock.
Knock.
Nothing.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
The door flew open.
"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT?!"
Erza stood in the doorway, her violet eyes blazing, her body radiating the kind of fury that made lesser beings flee. She'd been expecting Yuuta. Preparing to unleash all the frustration and confusion and something she didn't understand onto his pathetic head.
But it wasn't Yuuta.
It was a girl.
Short—maybe five foot six. Dark hair. Amber eyes. A black frock and a bag clutched in her hands like a shield.
A human.
An annoying human.
"You." Erza's voice dropped to something far more dangerous. "Nasty human."
Fiona didn't flinch.
Didn't step back.
Didn't show fear.
"Is Yuuta here?"
The name hit Erza like ice water.
Yuuta.
The human who begged her not to kill.
The mortal who couldn't withstand her presence.
The fool who asked for mercy for this very girl.
Her killing intent—already summoned, already reaching for Fiona's throat—froze.
Stopped.
Died.
For the first time in her centuries of existence—
The Dragon Queen of the Atlantian Continent was stopped by a human's request.
She stared at Fiona.
At the girl who wanted her dead.
At the girl who had called her a monster.
At the girl who stood before her now, trembling but determined, asking about him.
"Tch." Erza's hand dropped. "You're lucky."
She grabbed the door.
Started to close it.
"I spare your life because that pathetic human asked me to."
The door swung shut.
But before it could latch—
"I know who you are."
Erza's hand stopped.
The door hung open a crack.
"I know what monster you are." Fiona's voice was steady now. Stronger. "I know your motive. I know why you're here."
Erza's face twisted.
Not in rage.
In something she hadn't felt in centuries.
Curiosity.
Fear.
How?
She hadn't told anyone. No one knew why she was really here. Not Yuuta. Not Elena. Not a single soul on this miserable planet.
But this human—
This child—
Claimed to know.
Is she telling the truth? Erza's mind raced. Or is she making blind statements, hoping to provoke a reaction?
She studied Fiona.
Really studied her.
The way she stood.
The way her hands gripped her bag.
The way her eyes—those amber eyes—held Erza's gaze without flinching.
She knows something.
But what?
And how?
"Speak," Erza commanded. "What do you think you know?"
Fiona met her gaze.
And smiled.
Not a friendly smile.
The smile of someone holding cards they shouldn't have.
"I know you're not from this world," she said quietly. "I know you're here for something more than just him. And I know..." She paused. "I know there are people who come from same goals."
The air between them grew heavy.
The night grew still.
And two women—one a queen of dragons, one a human with secrets—stood facing each other in the dim light of a cheap apartment hallway.
Erza studied the girl before her with cold, calculating eyes.
A human. Young. Barely more than a child, really. And yet she stood there, in the doorway of an apartment that contained a Dragon Queen, and spoke words she had no business knowing.
Interesting.
Troubling.
Dangerous.
"Let us see," Erza said quietly, "how much you truly know about me, human."
She pulled the door wide.
An invitation.
A challenge.
Fiona stepped inside without hesitation.
No fear showed on her face. No trembling in her limbs. No sudden second thoughts about walking into the lair of a creature who could end her existence with a thought.
Those who saw Erza from a distance always admired her beauty—the silver hair, the perfect features, the ethereal presence that seemed to belong in paintings rather than reality. But those who saw her up close... those who stood in her presence and met her eyes... they always felt it.
The weight.
The pressure.
The absolute certainty that they stood before something far beyond human.
Only a select few could withstand that feeling. Those who had no fear of death. Those whose souls were already broken. Those who had looked into the abyss so many times that the abyss had stopped looking back.
Yuuta was different.
He was her mate—chosen by fate, bound by that night a year ago. The connection between them gave him an authority he didn't understand. The fear he felt wasn't the fear of death. It was simpler. More human.
The fear of a husband disappointing his wife.
But Fiona—
Fiona had no such connection.
And yet she met Erza's gaze without flinching.
Curious, Erza thought. Very curious.
She closed the door behind them.
---
The apartment was small. Cramped. Filled with the evidence of ordinary life.
Crayons scattered across the floor—greens and blues and reds, spread like fallen leaves around the spot where Elena had been drawing earlier. A half-finished picture lay among them, showing three figures holding hands beneath a bright yellow sun.
The dining table held empty bowls. Curry rice, mostly finished. A glass with a single sip remaining. Signs of a meal shared by people who were learning, slowly, what family meant.
And in the corner of the dining area, curled on the floor despite the perfectly good couch nearby—
Elena.
Asleep.
Her rabbit costume was wrinkled and dirty, still bearing the stains from the zoo adventure. Her tiny chest rose and fell with the rhythm of deep, peaceful sleep. One hand clutched a crayon. The other rested on her drawing.
She had eaten her fill and simply... stopped.
Like a light turning off.
Fiona stared at her.
At this child.
At the daughter of the monster she had come to confront.
He made food for them, she thought. Even though she's a monster. Even though she threatens his life. He still came home and cooked for them.
The thought irritated her more than she expected.
More than it should have.
Erza moved past her without a word.
Crossed to where Elena slept.
Lifted her gently—so gently, with a care that seemed impossible from someone so cold—and carried her toward the bedroom. Her movements were fluid, practiced, tender.
Fiona watched.
Filed the image away.
She cares for the child. That's something.
While Erza was gone, Fiona's eyes swept the room.
The books near the TV—stacked haphazardly, some open, some marked with pages turned down. A map of the world spread across the coffee table, with annotations in a language she couldn't read. The drawings Elena had made—dozens of them, it seemed, scattered across every available surface.
She picked one up.
Three figures. A tall one with silver hair. A medium one with black hair. A small one in a rabbit costume. They stood before a castle that stretched to the top of the page, complete with towers and flags and a dragon circling above.
A kingdom, Fiona realized. She drew them a kingdom.
Nothing unusual.
Nothing supernatural.
Nothing that proved—
"Now."
Erza's voice came from behind her.
Fiona turned.
The Dragon Queen stood in the bedroom doorway, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable. The mask was back in place—the cold, distant face of a being who had seen centuries and found none of them worth remembering.
"Sit." Erza gestured to the floor. "Tell me who I am. Tell me why I am here. And tell me—" her eyes narrowed, "—how you know things you should not know."
Fiona sat.
Not because she was commanded to.
Because her legs were suddenly weak.
The aura Erza was emitting—not the full force of it, not the crushing weight Yuuta had experienced, but enough—pressed against her like a physical thing. It whispered in the back of her mind.
Tell the truth.
Or die.
"I know," Fiona said carefully, "that you are a monster from another world. I know you placed a spell on Yuuta to use him for your purposes. And I know..."
She paused.
Chose her next words with precision.
"I know you want his blood to create something."
Erza didn't react.
Didn't move.
Didn't blink.
But something in the air shifted.
She's listening, Fiona realized. Really listening.
"Yuuta was born different," Fiona continued. "His eyes—the red ones he hides—they're not normal. Your kind needs blood like his. To please your gods."
Still nothing.
"The gods of the Nova world."
The air exploded.
Erza moved faster than Fiona's eyes could track.
One moment she was across the room.
The next, her hand was wrapped around Fiona's throat.
Lifting her off the ground.
"How," Erza's voice was ice—not cold, but absolute zero—"do you know about my world?"
Fiona's feet dangled.
Her hands clawed at Erza's grip.
Her lungs burned for air.
"Who are you?" Erza's eyes blazed. "Who sent you? What do you really want?"
Fiona stared into those violet eyes.
Into the face of death itself.
And for the first time since she'd started this
She felt true fear.
Fiona dangled from Erza's grip, her feet kicking uselessly against empty air, her hands clawing at the iron fingers wrapped around her throat.
But even now—even with death inches away—she forced words past her crushed windpipe.
"You... you're proving... my point..." Her voice was barely a rasp. "Monster... demon... evil..."
Erza's eyes narrowed.
"I am proving nothing," she said coldly. "Except that you are a fool who walked into a dragon's den without understanding what dragons are."
"Then why..." Fiona gasped for air. "Why are you so... eager to kill me?"
"Because you know about my world."
The words hung in the air.
"A human." Erza's voice dripped with contempt. "A pathetic, ordinary human who has never left this miserable little planet. And yet you speak of the Nova world as if you have any right to know it exists."
She pulled Fiona closer.
"Tell me how. Tell me why. Tell me everything."
Fiona's eyes widened.
She doesn't know.
She thinks I—
But before she could form a response, Erza's gaze shifted.
Her violet eyes unfocused.
Looking at something Fiona couldn't see.
"Memory reading," Erza murmured. "Let us see what your pathetic brain is hiding."
Fiona felt it.
A presence in her mind.
Cold. Foreign. Wrong.
It sifted through her memories like fingers through sand, searching for something specific—not her childhood, not her fears, not her dreams. Just one thing.
The source.
The origin.
The how.
And then—
Erza saw her.
A woman.
Violet hair.
Red eyes.
Standing in shadows, whispering secrets, planting knowledge like seeds in fertile soil.
Erza's lips curved.
"So," she said quietly. "That's how you know."
She released Fiona's throat.
Fiona dropped to the floor like a sack of bones, gasping, coughing, clutching her neck where bruises were already forming. She scrambled backward, away from the queen, away from the monster, away from the death that had just held her in its hand.
Erza looked down at her.
Not with rage.
Not with contempt.
With something far worse.
Disappointment.
"You are lucky," Erza said, "that I have memory reading. Otherwise, I would have tortured the truth from your flesh."
Fiona stared up at her.
Trembling.
Breathing.
Alive.
"You're not..." She swallowed. "You're not a normal demon at all."
"Demon?" Erza's eyebrow arched. "Is that what you think I am?"
"I have evidence!" Fiona's voice rose, desperate, defiant. "I'll prove what you are! I'll make you pay with your own life! I'll save Yuuta from you!"
Erza was silent for a moment.
Then—
"I am disappointed."
Fiona blinked.
"What?"
"Disappointed." Erza crossed her arms. "I thought you loved him. I thought perhaps your feelings were genuine, however misguided. But you are like all humans—driven by greed, not love."
"What are you talking about? I DO love him!"
"If you loved him," Erza said quietly, "why did you hide yourself? Why did you use him as fuel for your revenge?"
Fiona's blood ran cold.
"I didn't—I never—"
"Do you think I didn't see?" Erza stepped closer. "In your memories. In the space between your thoughts. I saw the truth you've been hiding from yourself."
"There is no truth! I love him! I've always loved him!"
"Then your version of love is very different from ours." Erza's voice was calm. Almost gentle. "Because what I saw in your mind was not love. It was hatred. Revenge. A burning need to destroy something—and you were using Yuuta as your weapon."
Fiona's mouth opened.
Closed.
Opened again.
Nothing came out.
"No," she finally whispered. "No, you're wrong. YOU'RE the one using him! YOU'RE the monster!"
Erza stepped closer still.
Close enough that Fiona could feel the cold radiating from her skin.
Close enough to see the ancient weariness in those violet eyes.
"I don't care what you think of me," Erza said quietly. "But now that I know your truth—your real truth—I will give you one warning."
She leaned down.
Her face inches from Fiona's.
"Do not cross me again. Do not involve Yuuta in whatever vengeance you're planning. Do not pull him into your wicked schemes."
Her eyes blazed.
"Because if you do, I will end you in such a way that your soul will not reincarnate for ten thousand years."
Fiona couldn't breathe.
Couldn't move.
Couldn't think.
All she knew was fear.
Pure.
Absolute.
Death.
She scrambled to her feet.
Ran for the door.
Tore it open.
Fled into the night without looking back.
---
Erza watched her go.
Stood in the doorway for a long moment, staring at the empty hallway, at the stairs where Fiona had disappeared.
Then she closed the door.
Turned.
Looked at the crayons scattered across the floor.
At Elena's drawing of their family.
At the empty bowls on the table.
At the life Yuuta had built here, in this tiny apartment, on this miserable little planet.
"Foolish humans," she murmured.
But her voice was softer than usual.
And when she picked up Elena's drawing and looked at it—at the three figures holding hands, at the castle in the background, at the sun smiling down on them all—
Something in her chest ached.
---
To be continued.
(End of chapter)
Bonus scence
Elena tilted her head, her big eyes full of curiosity. "Papa, what's a power stone?"
I paused, blinking a little. Where did she even hear about that? "Oh, well, it's kind of like a vote or a way people show support for a story. It helps us get more attention and makes the story more popular."
Her eyes sparkled. "Wow, that's so cool! But... why do we have so few?"
I scratched the back of my neck, a little embarrassed. "Power stones are pretty rare. There are tons of stories out there, so not everyone can give them. We just need to be careful when we use them."
"So, we can't ask people for them?" Elena asked, looking a little confused.
I shook my head with a smile. "Exactly. People give them to us if they really like our story. Sometimes, they'll say thank you for the support."
Elena: "Papa… I need a Power Stone…"
(her eyes big and teary, voice trembling like she just dropped her ice cream)
Yuuta: "Elena, sweetie, we can't just ask for that. It's up to the readers, you know."
Elena: "But they love me! Right?"
(she sniffles dramatically, wiping her tears with her dragon tail like it's a tissue)
Yuuta: (sweating nervously, turns to the fourth wall)
"Uhh… dear readers… please? Look at this face. You wouldn't let a half-dragon daughter cry, would you?"