Erza's mind raced.
She didn't understand what was happening to Yuuta. In all her centuries, she had never encountered anything like this—a being whose body simply... stopped working. Whose skin burned with an internal fire she couldn't extinguish. Whose breath came in ragged gasps that seemed to cost him more strength than he had.
But she was a Dragon Queen.
She was not helpless.
If he was burning, she would cool him.
If he was weak, she would support him.
If he was dying—
She refused to finish that thought.
With strength that made his human body feel like nothing, she lifted Yuuta by the shoulder and carried him to the hall. He hung limply in her grip, his eyes half-closed, his breath coming in shallow gasps that didn't seem to give him enough air.
She laid him on the floor.
Raised her hand.
And created.
Ice formed beneath him—not a thin layer, but a proper bed. Six feet long, wide enough for his entire body, cold enough to combat whatever fire burned inside him. It rose from nothing, shaped by her will, solid and smooth and absolutely freezing.
She laid him on it gently.
The effect was immediate.
Yuuta's eyes flew open.
His body jerked.
He sat up—or tried to—sputtering and gasping and flailing like a fish out of water.
"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!" His voice cracked. "Why am I on ICE?! This is—this is—I can't breathe—it's so COLD—"
Erza grabbed his shoulders.
Pushed him back down.
"Lie still, idiot." Her voice was sharp with something that might have been fear. "Your body is burning. You need to cool down."
"Cool down?! I'll DIE at this rate! Let me GO!"
He struggled against her grip.
Weakly.
Pathetically.
But he struggled.
Erza's eyes narrowed.
"Elena." She didn't look away from Yuuta. "Bring me rope."
Elena's eyes went wide.
"Rope, Mama?"
"Rope. Now."
The little girl ran.
Bare feet pattering against the floor. Tiny hands grabbing the first rope she could find—leftover from something Yuuta had bought months ago, coiled in a corner, waiting for a purpose it had never found.
She ran back.
Held it up.
"Here, Mama!"
Yuuta saw the rope.
Saw Erza's expression.
Saw his death approaching.
"Oh God," he whispered, his feverish eyes fixed on the ceiling. "Please don't forsake me. Please don't let me die tied to an ice bed by a dragon queen who doesn't understand human illness."
Erza ignored his prayer.
She grabbed the rope.
And got to work.
The chaos in the apartment reached a fever pitch.
Yuuta's muffled cries echoed off the walls, desperate and wordless, as he struggled against the ropes that held him to the ice bed. Erza stood over him, arms crossed, her expression a mixture of frustration and determination. Elena darted back and forth, holding a fan she'd found somewhere, waving it desperately at her father's burning face.
"Stay still, idiot mortal!" Erza commanded as Yuuta thrashed. "Your fire will not defeat my ice!"
"Mmph! MMMMMPH!"
"Papa, please be cool!" Elena wailed, fanning with all her tiny might. "Please be cool for Elena!"
The door stood open.
Forgotten.
Unlocked.
Because in Erza's mind, no creature in this world could possibly make her bleed, so why would she need to lock anything?
Miss Kano had been enjoying her morning tea when the sounds began.
At first, she thought nothing of it. The Konuari apartment was always a source of strange noises—thumps and crashes and the occasional scream. But this was different. This was desperate. And beneath the muffled cries, she could hear a child weeping.
She set down her cup.
Walked to their door.
Knocked.
Nothing.
Knocked again.
Still nothing.
She tried the handle.
It turned.
The door swung open.
"Hello?!" she called, stepping inside. "Is everything—"
She stopped.
Her eyes took in the scene before her, and for a long moment, her brain refused to process what she was seeing.
Yuuta lay on a massive bed of ice—actual ice, six feet long and gleaming cold—tied down with ropes at his wrists and ankles. A cloth was gagged around his mouth, muffling his desperate cries. His face was flushed crimson, his eyes wild with fever and fear and the absolute agony of a man whose body was burning while lying on frozen death.
Erza stood over him, rope in hand, her silver hair wild, her expression the cold focus of a warrior in battle.
Elena ran back and forth with a fan, her tiny face streaked with tears, her voice rising in desperate pleas.
"Papa, please be cool! Please, Papa!"
Miss Kano blinked.
Then blinked again.
"What," she said loudly, "is going on here?!"
Erza and Elena froze.
Three sets of eyes turned toward her.
Yuuta's were the most desperate—red-rimmed, fever-bright, begging for rescue with every fiber of his being.
Erza's narrowed with instant hostility.
"You pathetic human." Her voice was ice. "How dare you enter my territory without permission?"
Miss Kano ignored her.
She walked forward, her eyes fixed on Yuuta's flushed face, on the sweat pouring down his temples, on the way his entire body trembled against the ice.
"What is happening?" she demanded. "Why is he tied up? Why is he on ICE?"
Elena ran to her.
The little girl's face was a masterpiece of tragic cuteness—tears streaming, nose running, lower lip trembling with enough force to break any heart.
"Human Auntie!" she wailed. "Papa is burning hot! Mama is trying to help, but Papa won't be cool! See, Human Auntie? Papa is still hot!"
She pointed at Yuuta.
Her expression was so pure, so desperate, so utterly convinced that her mother was doing the right thing—
It broke every scale of cuteness ever invented.
Miss Kano's heart clenched.
She stepped forward.
Pressed her hand to Yuuta's forehead.
And her face went pale.
The heat radiating from him was incredible. This wasn't just a fever. This was a full-blown, dangerous, potentially life-threatening temperature. And Erza's solution had been to put him on ICE.
"You're killing him," Miss Kano breathed.
Erza's eyes widened.
"What?"
"You're KILLING him!" Miss Kano grabbed the cloth gag and yanked it free. Yuuta gasped, sucking in air like a drowning man finally breaking the surface. "This is a fever! A HIGH fever! And you put him on ICE?!"
Erza stared at her.
Confusion flickered across her cold features.
"His body burns," she said slowly, as if explaining basic logic to a child. "Ice cools burning. That is... that is reasonable."
"Reasonable?!" Miss Kano's voice rose. She was already untying the ropes, her fingers moving with practiced speed. "He has an INFECTION! A SICKNESS! His body is fighting something, and the fever is a SYMPTOM! The ice is making it WORSE!"
Erza's hand tightened on the rope.
"Infection? What is infection? what are you talking about"
"FEVER! COLD! HUMAN DISEASE!" Miss Kano freed Yuuta's wrists and moved to his ankles. "Has he been coughing? Sneezing? Aching? Looking like death?"
Erza blinked.
"He... coughed. But I thought he was choking on food."
"He has a COLD and your solution was ICE?!"
"Fire needs cold. That is basic—"
"That is NOT how THINGS WORK!"
Miss Kano freed the last rope and helped Yuuta sit up. He slumped against her immediately, barely conscious, his body trembling with cold and heat and exhaustion all at once. His breath came in ragged gasps that didn't seem to give him enough air.
"When we get sick," Miss Kano continued, her voice slightly gentler now that Yuuta was free, "we need WARMTH. Rest. Medicine. Soup. Not an ICE BED!"
Erza stood frozen.
The rope dangled from her hand.
Her face—her cold, controlled, centuries-perfected face—was blank with something she hadn't felt in a long time.
Confusion.
Guilt.
Fear.
"Fever," she repeated slowly. "Cold. These are... different? what are these things"
Miss Kano stared at her.
Longer than was comfortable.
Longer than was safe.
"You," she said finally, "are an idiot. A complete, absolute, dangerous idiot. If I'd come five minutes later, he might have died from hypothermia while you tried to cure him."
Erza's hand tightened on the rope.
"I was helping this mortal—"
"You were KILLING him."
Silence fell.
Heavy.
Absolute.
Broken only by Yuuta's ragged breathing.
Elena tugged at Miss Kano's sleeve.
Her tiny face was still wet with tears, her lower lip still trembling, her RED eyes—so like her Father's, but so much softer—looking up with desperate hope.
"Human Auntie," she said, her voice wobbling, "is Papa going to be okay? Mama was trying to help. Please don't be angry at Mama."
Miss Kano looked down at her.
At this impossibly cute, impossibly earnest, impossibly perfect little girl.
Her heart melted.
"It's okay, sweetheart," she said softly. "I'm not angry. But we need to help your papa the right way."
She looked at Erza.
At the Dragon Queen who stood frozen, rope in hand, her expression a battlefield of emotions she didn't understand.
"You," Miss Kano said, "need to learn about How to be wife Properly. About how your husband bodies work. About sickness and health and what he actually need, when he was sick."
Erza said nothing.
But she didn't argue.
And somewhere, deep in her ancient heart, something shifted.
---
Erza stood frozen in the corner of the room, watching Miss Kano work.
A strange feeling crawled through her chest.
She didn't recognize it at first—hadn't felt it in centuries, if ever. But as she watched the older woman gently remove Yuuta's gag and carefully assess his condition, the feeling grew stronger.
He almost died.
The thought echoed in her mind.
Because of me.
I almost killed him.
Trying to help.
Trying to save him.
I almost ended him.
Why did that thought hurt so much? Why did her chest ache at the idea of his life slipping away? She had planned to kill him herself. Had threatened it dozens of times. Had imagined the satisfaction of ending his pathetic existence.
But now—
Now the thought of him dying made her want to destroy something.
What is this feeling?
Why do I care?
Why does guilt exist inside me?
She didn't understand.
Couldn't understand.
Had never needed to understand.
But it was there.
Growing.
Unbearable.
---
Miss Kano worked quickly, efficiently, her hands moving with the practiced ease of someone who had dealt with sick children before.
"Where the hell did you find this ice bed?" she demanded, glancing at Erza. "This thing is huge! How did you even get it in here?"
Erza crossed her arms.
Looked away.
Said nothing.
Miss Kano sighed.
"Fine. Keep your secrets." She grabbed a towel and began gently rubbing Yuuta's head, drying the moisture that had accumulated from the melting ice. "But next time, ask for help before you try to freeze your husband to death."
Yuuta's eyes fluttered open.
His voice was weak, barely above a whisper.
"Thank you... Miss Kano... for saving me..."
"Don't speak, Yuuta." Miss Kano's voice softened. "You'll lose strength. Just rest."
Erza watched.
Her arms tightened across her chest.
Her jaw clenched.
Why is she touching him so gently?
Why is he looking at her with gratitude?
Why does this make me want to—
She didn't finish the thought.
Didn't want to.
---
Miss Kano examined Yuuta's wet clothes.
"We need to get these off you." She spoke matter-of-factly, like she was discussing the weather. "You're soaked from the ice melt. If we don't dry you properly, you'll get even sicker."
She reached for his shirt.
"Remove your shirt and pants. I'll wipe you down and find dry clothes."
Yuuta's fever-flushed face somehow managed to turn even redder.
"I—what—Miss Kano—"
"Don't be shy, boy. I changed your diapers when you were a baby at the orphanage with Sister Mary. This is nothing new."
"But—"
"Shirt. Pants. Now."
Erza's eyes went wide.
"WHAT?!"
The word exploded from her.
Her face—her cold, controlled, queenly face—turned crimson. Her voice trembled with something that sounded almost like panic.
"What is this shameless thing you're suggesting?!" She pointed at Miss Kano, her hand shaking. "Remove his shirt and pants?! In front of YOU?!"
Miss Kano blinked.
"He's wet. He needs to be dry. It's basic care."
"Basic CARE?!" Erza's voice rose. "You want to see him—to touch him—to—"
She couldn't finish.
Couldn't form the words.
Couldn't process the storm of emotions raging inside her.
Miss Kano stared at her for a long moment.
Then—slowly—a smile spread across her face.
"Oh," she said. "I see."
"See WHAT?!"
"You're jealous."
Erza's mouth opened.
Closed.
Opened again.
Nothing came out.
Miss Kano's smile widened.
"You're jealous at the thought of another woman seeing your husband without clothes."
"I am NOT—he is NOT my—we are NOT—"
"You're bright red, dear."
Erza's hand flew to her cheek.
It was burning.
Traitor.
Miss Kano laughed softly.
"Don't worry. I have no interest in seeing this idiot naked. I raised him. He's like a son to me." She tossed the towel to Erza. "You do it. Dry him, get him warm clothes, and put him to bed properly. No ice."
Erza caught the towel.
Stared at it.
Stared at Yuuta.
Stared at the towel again.
"I... I have to...?"
"He's your husband. Your responsibility." Miss Kano headed for the door. "I'll make soup. Bring it back in an hour. Keep him warm, keep him dry, and for the love of everything—NO MORE ICE."
The door closed behind her.
Erza stood alone with Yuuta and Elena.
The towel hung limply in her hand.
Yuuta looked up at her, shivering, exhausted, waiting.
Elena tugged her sleeve.
"Mama? Are you going to help Papa now?"
Erza's face burned.
Her heart raced.
Her hands trembled.
And somewhere, deep in the place she'd locked away centuries ago, something new was born.
Jealousy.
Guilt.
Fear.
Care.
She didn't understand any of it.
---
To be continued...