The morning sun streamed through the windows of Classroom D at John Bosco Culinary College, casting warm rectangles of light across worn wooden desks and the scattered notebooks of students who were supposed to be paying attention.
Professor Mori's voice droned on about sauce reductions—something about temperature control and emulsion ratios and a dozen other details that would be important later but felt impossibly dull right now.
Yuuta wasn't listening.
His notebook lay open before him, but the page was mostly blank. A few half-hearted scribbles. A doodle of what might have been a dragon. His pen hovered motionless over the paper, forgotten.
His mind was elsewhere.
She said I could call her Erza.
The thought circled endlessly, each repetition bringing a fresh wave of warmth.
Just Erza. No title. No formality. No "my queen" or "your highness." Just her name.
My name. From my mouth. She said it was enough.
He smiled.
Actually smiled.
In the middle of a lecture about sauce reductions.
"Bro."
A whisper from his left.
Yuuta ignored it.
"Bro."
Louder this time.
Still ignored.
"BRO."
Sam's face appeared inches from his own, blocking his view of the whiteboard, his expression a mixture of curiosity and barely contained glee.
"What?" Yuuta hissed.
Sam grinned.
It was not a reassuring grin.
"Look at you." He gestured at Yuuta's face. "Smiling like an idiot in the middle of class. Distracted. Dreamy. Completely out of it." His eyebrows waggled. "Looks like someone's wife let him do inside last night."
Yuuta's brain short-circuited.
His face went from normal to crimson in less than a second.
"WHAT THE—" He slapped Sam's arm—hard. "What the hell is wrong with you?! You can't just say things like that!"
"Ow!" Sam rubbed his arm, still grinning. "What? You're married! That's what married people do! And looking at your mood this morning, something definitely happened with your wife."
"Nothing happened!"
"Then why are you blushing?"
"I'm not blushing!"
"You're literally the color of a tomato."
Yuuta opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Opened it again.
Nothing came out.
Sam leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
"Come on, bro. Tell me. What happened? I'm dying of curiosity here."
Yuuta turned away.
"Nothing happened. It's not important."
"Not important?" Sam clutched his chest dramatically. "Not IMPORTANT? Bro, we've been friends for over a year! We've been through everything together! Remember when we used to peek into the women's bathroom just to see some pus..."
Yuuta moved faster than Sam had ever seen him move.
His hand clamped over Sam's mouth.
His eyes—usually warm, usually tired, usually harmless—went cold.
Very cold.
"If you mention any of my past stupidity again," Yuuta said quietly, his voice carrying an edge that Sam had never heard before, "I will personally ensure that you spend the rest of your life as fertilizer in my garden. Understood?"
Sam's eyes went wide.
He nodded frantically.
Yuuta released his mouth.
Sam scrambled backward in his seat, putting as much distance between them as the cramped classroom allowed.
Sam sucked in air.
"Dude," he wheezed. "Where did you learn to threaten like that? That was terrifying."
Yuuta blinked.
Looked at his hand.
Where did that come from?
He shrugged.
"Maybe I'm picking up habits from my wife."
"Chill, bro!" His voice was higher than usual. "I was joking! Please don't threaten my existence like that!"
Yuuta stared at him for a moment longer.
Then—
He smiled.
A small, satisfied smile.
"Good." He turned back to his notebook. "Now get the hell away from me."
Sam retreated to his side of the desk, muttering something about "scary married men" and "what happened to the old Yuuta."
But Yuuta wasn't listening.
He was basking.
So THAT'S what it feels like to threaten someone.
The thought was warm. Satisfying. Almost... powerful.
This feels good.
Really good.
I should do this more often.
He picked up his pen.
Started doodling again.
Smiled at nothing.
Sam looked at Yuuta for a long moment.
Then he leaned forward, his expression shifting from playful to something more serious.
"Listen, Yuuta."
Yuuta didn't look up from his notebook.
"If you say something stupid again, I will kill you. I mean it this time."
"No, no, it's serious." Sam pointed toward the front of the classroom. "Look over there."
Yuuta followed his gaze.
Fiona's seat.
Empty.
Completely, conspicuously, impossibly empty.
Yuuta blinked.
Then blinked again.
"She's... absent?"
"For the first time in recorded history." Sam shook his head slowly. "I didn't even know she was capable of missing class. I thought she was surgically attached to that chair."
Yuuta stared at the empty seat.
Fiona was the type of student who never missed class. Ever. If a terrorist hijacked the entire college, Fiona would probably still show up, climb through the windows, and demand to know what she'd missed.
But today—
Today she wasn't there.
"Why is she absent?" Yuuta asked.
"That's what I'm trying to figure out." Sam's eyes narrowed. "I thought since you used to stalk her, you might know the reason."
"I told you to stop saying that. I don't do that anymore. I haven't for a long time."
"Okay, okay." Sam held up his hands. "But something's going on. Maybe she's heartbroken."
Yuuta frowned.
"Heartbroken?"
"Yeah, you know." Sam gestured vaguely. "When someone rejects you and your whole world falls apart. Depression. Sorrow. The works."
Yuuta's brain connected dots he hadn't realized were connected.
The rooftop.
Her confession.
Her offer to run away together.
His rejection.
"Sam," he said slowly, "what would happen if someone... you know... rejected their crush?"
Sam stared at him.
Longer than was comfortable.
"Bro." His voice was flat. "You got rejected by Fiona like seven or eight times. You don't know what rejection does to a person?"
"Wait." Yuuta held up a hand. "There's an effect? "
Sam's jaw dropped.
"You're telling me," he said slowly, "that after all those rejections, you never once felt... I don't know... sad? Depressed? Like your soul was being slowly crushed by the weight of unrequited love?"
Yuuta considered this.
"I mean... rejection hurts, I guess. But she didn't owe me anything. You can't force someone to love you. Why would I cry over that?"
Sam stared at him.
Longer.
"Bro." He leaned forward. "I was right. You were never actually in love with Fiona."
"What? Of course I was!"
"No." Sam shook his head firmly. "When you really love someone—I mean REALLY love them—and they reject you, it destroys you. It's not just 'oh well, moving on.' It's agony. It's staying up at night wondering what you did wrong. It's avoiding places they might be because seeing them hurts too much."
Yuuta's mouth opened.
Closed.
Opened again.
"That's... that's a thing?"
"That's THE thing, bro. That's what heartbreak IS."
Yuuta's face went pale.
Fiona.
The rooftop.
Her desperate eyes.
Her offer to run away together.
His rejection.
And now—
She was absent.
"Sam." His voice was small. "What happened on the rooftop..."
"Yeah?"
"She... she said some things. Confessed some things. And I..." He swallowed. "I rejected her."
Sam's eyebrows shot up.
"Wait. FIONA confessed to YOU? The Fiona? The one with five fan clubs and enough influence to overthrow the government?"
"Yes."
"And you REJECTED her?"
"I'm MARRIED, Sam!"
"Right, right, but still—" Sam shook his head in disbelief. "Bro, do you have any idea what that does to someone like her? She's not used to rejection. She's used to everyone worshipping her. And then you—the guy who used to follow her around like a lost puppy—just said no?"
Yuuta's stomach dropped.
"I didn't know she'd be... affected like that."
"Affected?" Sam laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Bro, she's probably at home right now, crying into her pillow, listening to sad songs, questioning her entire existence. That's what heartbreak DOES."
Yuuta stared at the empty seat.
At the desk where Fiona should be.
At the space that suddenly felt like an accusation.
What have I done?
"What should I do, Sam?" Yuuta's voice was desperate. "I need to fix this. I didn't mean to hurt her. I never meant to give her false hope, but now she's—" He gestured helplessly at the empty seat. "I don't know how to make this right."
Sam sighed.
Long.
Deep.
Complicated.
"Well." He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "As the managing director of the Fiona Admirers Guild, I should personally bury you under this college and dance on your grave."
Yuuta winced.
"But," Sam continued, "as your friend—unfortunately—I have to help you."
"Thank you, Sam." Yuuta's voice was sincere. "I knew you were different from the others."
"Don't thank me yet." Sam held up a hand. "Here's what you need to do. Go to her house. Talk to her. Explain everything—your mistake, your marriage, all of it."
"You think that'll work?"
"Women have wild imaginations, bro. If you don't give her a real explanation, she'll create a hundred fantasies in her head, and each one will make her more depressed than the last."
Yuuta nodded slowly.
"I'll do it. I'll go right after class."
---
The bell rang.
Yuuta was out of his seat before the sound finished echoing.
He ran.
Through the hallways, past confused students, out the main doors, down the streets of Luna City. His legs pumped. His lungs burned. His heart hammered against his ribs.
He didn't stop.
Couldn't stop.
Fiona's house wasn't far from his own neighborhood—a modest home in a quiet part of the city, the kind of place where families raised children and old people sat on porches and nothing extraordinary ever happened.
By the time he arrived, he was gasping.
He leaned against a lamppost, chugging water from the bottle he'd grabbed before leaving, trying to make himself presentable. His reflection in a nearby window showed a mess—sweaty hair, flushed face, desperate eyes.
Great.
This'll go well.
He looked at the house.
It was middle-class. Unassuming. The kind of home that didn't draw attention. A small garden out front. Curtains drawn in the windows. Nothing unusual.
Nothing except—
He knew this house.
Knew it well.
Fiona had moved here years ago with her aunt, after her parents died in Japan. Her aunt was Dr. Jenny—the same Dr. Jenny who worked at the college clinic, who had treated Yuuta since childhood, who knew more about his scars and nightmares than anyone alive.
That was how Yuuta and Fiona had become friends in the first place.
Dr. Jenny's connection.
Years of forced proximity.
A friendship that had grown into... something.
Or nothing.
He still didn't know.
He'd thought it was love once. Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn't. But one thing was certain—he couldn't afford to love anyone now. Not with Erza in his life. Not with the danger that followed her. Not with the one-year countdown ticking away.
And besides—
He believed in marriage.
Real marriage.
The kind that bound two souls into one, that couldn't be broken, that demanded loyalty even when it was hard.
He'd never had a church wedding. Never stood before a priest and made vows. But according to Erza's world, according to whatever had happened that night a year ago, he was married.
And that meant something.
Even if she didn't love him.
Even if she planned to kill him.
It still meant something.
---
He walked to the door.
Knocked gently.
Knock.
Knock.
Nothing.
He waited.
Knocked again.
"Fiona? It's me—Yuuta. I came to talk to you."
Silence.
He pressed his ear to the door.
Nothing. No movement. No sound. Maybe she wasn't home. Maybe she was sleeping. Maybe—
The door flew open.
Yuuta turned.
And the world exploded.
---
A fist connected with his face.
Not gently.
Not playfully.
With the full force of someone who had been waiting for this moment for a very long time.
Yuuta flew backward.
Hit the ground hard.
His vision went white. His ears rang. His eye—his left eye—burned with pain so intense he couldn't see, couldn't think, couldn't breathe.
For a moment, he thought he'd been hit by a truck.
Then the world swam back into focus.
A figure stood over him.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Familiar.
Loid.
Fiona's childhood friend. Her secret admirer. The guy who had been competing with Yuuta for her attention for years without ever actually making a move.
Loid's fist was still raised.
His face was twisted with fury.
"It's... hurt..." Yuuta gasped, clutching his face. "That really... hurts..."
"Hurt?" Loid's voice was ice. "Be grateful I didn't take your eye out, you bastard."
"Why—why did you hit me?!"
"I should kill you!" Loid stepped closer, towering over Yuuta's crumpled form. "Do you have any idea what you've done to her?!"
Yuuta blinked—or tried to. His left eye was swelling shut.
"What are you talking about?"
"FIONA!" Loid's voice cracked. "Because of you, she's lost herself again! She's not sleeping! She's not eating! She's pushing herself harder than ever, and it's ALL YOUR FAULT!"
Yuuta stared up at him.
Confusion warred with pain.
"I don't—I don't understand—"
"Of course you don't." Loid's laugh was bitter. "You never do. You just go through life breaking people and never even notice."
He grabbed Yuuta's collar.
Pulled him closer.
"She was finally getting better, you know. After everything that happened in Japan. After her parents—" He stopped. Shook his head. "She was healing. And then YOU showed up and messed it all up again."
Yuuta's mind raced.
What happened in Japan?
What does he mean, "getting better"?
What is Fiona hiding?
Loid released him.
Stepped back.
"Get out of here." His voice was flat. "Don't come back. Don't call her. Don't text her. Just... leave her alone."
He turned.
Walked back into the house.
Slammed the door.
Yuuta lay on the ground, one eye swelling, his body aching, his mind spinning with questions he couldn't answer.
What just happened?
What did I miss?
Who is Fiona, really?
---
To be continued...
[End of Chapter]
[Special Author's Corner – 50 Collections Celebration!]
Yuuta: Hey, it's me again! Can you believe it? We hit 50 collections today! That's an unbelievable achievement! Thank you so much, everyone!
Elena: Yay! I'm famous now, Papa! I want an autograph from myself!
Erza: Uff… Calm down, you two. It's just 50. Why are you acting like hyper little hatchlings?
Yuuta: Always so cold, huh… Can't you at least pretend to be excited?
Erza: I'll celebrate when we hit a thousand. smirks
Yuuta: Ahem. Anyway—thank you all from the bottom of our hearts. Your support means the world to us. We hope you'll stick with our crazy family through the laughter, chaos, and fire. (Literally.)
Elena: See you in the next chapter! Don't forget to drink water and smile!
Yuuta: Until next time—bye-bye and take care!