Yuuta drove.
Silently. Carefully. Both hands glued to the wheel like his life depended on it—which, considering the ice queen currently occupying his passenger seat, it probably did.
The zoo was nineteen kilometers away from Luna City.
Nineteen kilometers of highway stretching like a concrete river through the urban landscape. Nineteen kilometers of buildings rising like steel and glass forests. Nineteen kilometers of Elena squeaking at absolutely everything she saw from the back seat.
"PAPA! LOOK! BIG BUILDING!"
Yuuta glanced in the rearview mirror at his daughter's face pressed against the window. "That's an office complex, sweetie."
"PAPA! LOOK! TALL BUILDING!"
"Same one, Elena."
"PAPA! LOOK! DIFFERENT TALL BUILDING!"
Yuuta suppressed a smile. "That's... actually the same building from a different angle."
Elena gasped like he'd just revealed the greatest magic trick in existence. "THE BUILDING MOVED?!"
"No, we moved."
"THE BUILDING STAYED?!"
"...Yes."
"AMAZING!"
Yuuta's heart did something complicated in his chest. Everything was amazing to her. Everything was new and wonderful and worthy of celebration. He'd forgotten what that felt like—seeing the world through eyes that hadn't yet learned to be bored by it.
He glanced in the rearview mirror again.
Erza, however, was not having a good time.
She sat rigidly in the passenger seat, her white-violet imperial dress pooling around her like frozen water, her silver hair somehow still perfect despite the car's questionable air conditioning system. Her face was pale—paler than usual. Her jaw was tight enough to crack diamonds. Her violet eyes darted around like a trapped animal searching for escape.
"How," she said through clenched teeth, her voice barely above a whisper, "do humans build such infrastructure without any trees?"
Yuuta blinked. "What?"
"There are no trees!" She gestured sharply at the passing cityscape—the endless rows of buildings, the concrete sidewalks, the metal streetlights. "No forests! No greenery! Just... boxes everywhere! It makes it so hard to breathe in this tiny planet!"
Yuuta sighed.
Can't argue with a queen, he reminded himself firmly. Especially not about urban planning.
"It's called a city," he said carefully, keeping his voice neutral. "Lots of humans live close together. Trees are in parks and stuff."
"Parks?"
"Places with trees. Inside the city."
Erza's expression suggested she found this concept deeply suspicious—like someone had told her water could be dry and she was waiting for the punchline.
"Primitive," she muttered, turning to stare out the window.
"You're wearing our primitive clothes," Yuuta pointed out without thinking.
The temperature in the car dropped ten degrees.
Erza's head turned toward him. Slowly. Deliberately. Her eyes had gone flat and cold in that way that meant someone was about to die.
"Did you just talk back to me?" Her voice could have frozen the highway solid.
Yuuta's brain finally caught up with his mouth.
Oh no.
Oh no no no no—
He'd forgotten. Forgotten who she was. Forgotten the ice spear through his window. Forgotten the chain around his throat. In the chaos of Elena's excitement and the normalcy of driving, he'd treated her like a person—like any other passenger making conversation.
Mistake.
Huge mistake.
Ice crackled around Erza's fingers. The passenger seat began to frost over. Yuuta's seat—his actual seat—started freezing beneath him.
"I—My Queen—" Yuuta's voice cracked. "Remember the promise! The one year—you agreed—"
Erza stopped.
The ice halted mid-spread.
She looked at him.
Then, without a word, she hit him.
Crack.
Her fist connected with his skull—hard enough to hurt, not hard enough to kill. His head snapped to the side. Stars exploded behind his eyes. The car swerved slightly before he corrected it.
"Your promise never said I couldn't harm you," she said coldly, crossing her arms and turning to look out the window like nothing had happened. "It only said I couldn't kill you."
Yuuta rubbed his head with one hand, still steering with the other.
Ow.
Ow ow ow.
He really needed to learn when to keep his mouth shut.
In the back seat, Elena remained completely oblivious to the violence that had just occurred centimeters from her mother's fist. Her face was still pressed against the window, her breath fogging the glass, her tiny clawed hands splayed against it like starfish.
Then she screeched.
Not a scared screech. An excited screech. The kind of sound only children and very enthusiastic seals can produce.
"MAMA! PAPA! LOOK!"
She pressed her face harder against the window, squishing her cheeks into adorable pancakes. One tiny claw pointed desperately at the sky.
"DRAGON! MAMA, THAT'S A DRAGON LIKE YOU!"
Erza's head snapped up.
Her violet eyes narrowed, scanning the clouds with the focus of a predator identifying potential threats. Her posture shifted—still cold, still royal, but now alert in a way she hadn't been since they left the apartment.
"What," she said slowly, her voice carrying a note of genuine curiosity, "is that creature?"
Yuuta followed her gaze.
A plane.
Just a plane. Soaring through the clouds at thirty thousand feet, leaving a white contrail behind it like a scar across the blue. The afternoon sun glinted off its wings—metal wings, wings that didn't flap, wings that carried hundreds of humans through the sky like it was nothing.
"It has wings," Erza observed, her tone shifting from suspicion to something almost like respect. "But it doesn't flap them. And it's using fire to fly." She tilted her head, studying the distant aircraft. "A wingless dragon that breathes fire backward. Fascinating."
Yuuta choked.
"That's—" He coughed. "That's not a dragon. That's a plane. "
Erza turned to him.
Slowly.
Her eyebrow arched with regal skepticism.
"Plane?"
"Yeah. Human technology." Yuuta patted his dashboard, the familiar motion grounding him. "It runs on fuel—a special liquid that burns to create energy. Just like how this car runs, actually. Just... bigger. And with wings."
In the back seat, Elena's eyes had grown to the size of dinner plates.
"PAPA!" Her voice rang with pure, unfiltered wonder. "Humans are so GREAT!"
Yuuta puffed up slightly despite himself. A warm feeling spread through his chest—the kind that came from impressing his daughter, from being seen as impressive by someone who mattered.
"I know, right?"
"They build flying metal beasts!"
"We call them planes."
"FLYING METAL BEASTS CALLED PLANES!"
Yuuta grinned.
Then—
"Great?"
Erza's voice cut through his moment of paternal pride like a blade through silk.
She laughed.
Not a warm laugh. Not a kind laugh. A sharp, incredulous, dismissive laugh that stripped away every ounce of warmth Yuuta had been feeling.
"Delusion," she said flatly. "Pure delusion."
Yuuta's grin faded. "Excuse me?"
"If a dragon wanted to learn—" She stopped. Corrected herself with a slight tilt of her head. "No. If I wanted to learn, I could master your so-called 'technology' within an hour. And then I could rule this entire planet by sunset."
Yuuta stared at her.
The highway hummed beneath them. Elena's excited breathing filled the back seat. But in the front, time seemed to slow.
"You could learn centuries of human innovation in one hour? "
"Correct."
"How?!"
Erza tossed her hair—a motion so dismissive, so inherently royal, that it somehow made the question feel stupid for even being asked.
"Dragons have a knowledge-stealing ability. We can understand any knowledge instantly and apply it in reality." She searched for the human word, her brow furrowing slightly. "It's called... comprehension absorption. Yes. That's the closest translation."
Yuuta's mouth opened.
Closed.
Opened again.
No words came out.
"Tch." He finally clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "Unfair world. You dragons live forever, have insane powers, and now you're telling me you can just... absorb knowledge? Like a sponge? Instantly?"
"Essentially."
"And I bet you never forget anything either."
The words left his mouth before he could stop them—bitter, envious, honest in a way he hadn't intended to be.
Erza went still.
Not frozen-still like before, when she was preparing to attack. Different. Wrong.
"What?"
"Long memory." Yuuta shook his head, staring at the road ahead. "You probably remember everything perfectly. Never forget a single moment. Every conversation, every face, every detail just... stays." He laughed, but there was no humor in it. "That's even more blessed than the knowledge thing. Humans spend their whole lives trying not to forget the important stuff—taking pictures, writing journals, making memories—and you just... do. Must be nice."
Silence.
Long. Heavy. Dangerous.
Erza's expression shifted.
Something flickered in her violet eyes—something that looked almost like pain before she crushed it beneath layers of ice.
"It's not a blessing," she said quietly. "It's a curse."
Yuuta frowned. "What? How could perfect memory be a curse?"
"Nothing."
"No, you said—"
"I said nothing. "
Erza's eyes snapped to him.
Cold. Hard. Dangerous.
"If you don't want to lose a limb," she said, her voice dropping to something that could freeze oceans, "focus on the damn path."
Yuuta opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Looked at the road.
He drove.
But in the corner of his eye, he watched her. The way her hands had tightened in her lap. The way her jaw had clenched. The way she stared out the window—not at the buildings, not at the city—
At nothing.
Curse, she'd said.
What could be cursed about never forgetting?
He didn't ask.
Something told him he didn't want to know.
---
Elena, completely oblivious to the tension that had just crackled between her parents, bounced in her seat like a tiny silver-haired spring.
"Papa! Are we almost there?!"
"Soon, little one."
"Will the one-headed kitties be there?!"
Yuuta smiled at her reflection in the rearview mirror. "Lions? Yeah, they should be."
"Will they be sad about having only one head?!"
He glanced at Erza.
She was still staring out the window. Still silent. Still wrapped in whatever memory had stolen her voice minutes ago. Her profile was sharp against the passing cityscape—beautiful and untouchable and somewhere else entirely.
"I don't think they know any different, Elena."
She considered this with the intense seriousness only a four-year-old could muster. "Oh." A pause. "That's good. They can't miss what they never had."
Yuuta's chest tightened.
They can't miss what they never had.
Such a simple thing for a child to say. Such a profound thing.
He wondered if Erza felt the same way. If she looked at the world—at him—and saw only things she'd never had. Or if, like the lions, she missed everything and simply didn't know any different.
He didn't ask.
The car drove on.
After a long, exhausting journey—nineteen kilometers of highway, demonic car noises that sounded like dying animals, and Elena asking "Are we there yet?" approximately every forty-five seconds—the Yuuta family finally reached their destination.
Manlee Zoo.
The famous City Zoo loomed before them like a green oasis in the middle of urban chaos. Giant banners hung at the entrance, advertising exotic animals, conservation efforts, and overpriced snacks. Palm trees lined the walkways. Ticket booths gleamed in the afternoon sun.
Also, unfortunately—
Crowds.
Lots and lots of loud crowds.
Yuuta circled the parking lot three times before finally spotting a space near the back. Tourists swarmed everywhere like ants at a picnic—families with screaming children, couples taking selfies, groups of students on field trips, vendors shouting about cold drinks and souvenirs.
The noise was immense.
"Finally," Yuuta muttered, killing the engine. Sweetheart shuddered gratefully beneath him. "We're here."
He looked at his passengers.
Elena had pressed her tiny hands against her ears. Her face was scrunched up like she'd bitten into a lemon. Her wings were pulled tight against her back, and her tail had curled around her own leg—a defensive posture he'd never seen before.
"So loud," she whimpered. "Papa, so loud."
Beside her, Erza looked ready to commit mass murder.
Her jaw was clenched so hard he could see the muscles jumping beneath her porcelain skin. Her violet eyes had narrowed to dangerous slits. Frost was literally forming on the window next to her, crystalline patterns spreading across the glass like winter vines.
"Why," she said through gritted teeth, her voice barely controlled, "won't these disgusting humans shut their fucking mouths? It's insufferable."
Yuuta blinked.
Then it hit him.
Oh no.
He remembered something—a documentary he'd watched years ago about animal senses. The bigger the animal, the more sensitive their hearing. Elephants could communicate across miles. Whales sang across oceans.
And dragons?
Dragons were way bigger than elephants.
Of course the crowd noise was torture for them. Of course every shout, every scream, every vendor's cry was like nails on a chalkboard amplified a thousand times. They weren't being dramatic—they were suffering.
"I'm so sorry," he said quickly, guilt flooding through him. "I didn't realize—your hearing—I can find another zoo! A quieter one! There's a smaller place outside the city, it's farther but—"
"No need."
Erza raised her hand.
Between her thumb and finger, she made a sharp gesture—a click so subtle he almost missed it.
The effect was immediate.
The noise around them... faded.
Not completely. Yuuta could still hear birds singing. The wind rustling through the palm trees. The distant roar of what might actually be a lion. But the crowd noise—the shouting, the chatter, the endless human sounds—vanished like it had never existed.
It was like wearing noise-canceling headphones.
But better.
Magical.
Yuuta's jaw dropped.
"That's..." He looked around wildly, searching for any sign of how she'd done it. "That's awesome. How did you do that?! Is there some law of magic I don't know about? I didn't hear any chant! In anime, they always say something dramatic before using spells!"
Erza stared at him like he'd grown a second head.
"Anime?"
"Never mind." He waved the question away. "But seriously—HOW? "
She pinched the bridge of her nose—that familiar gesture of exhausted patience he was starting to recognize.
"Don't waste my time, mortal. Just show us the beasts."
Yuuta puffed his cheeks out in frustration.
"Yeah, yeah. I know, my queen. You don't have to be so cold all the time."
Erza opened her mouth to deliver a scathing response—
And stopped.
Something flickered in her eyes. Something uncertain. Something almost... embarrassed.
"...I will tell you after the zoo."
The words came out before she could stop them.
Her eyes went wide.
What.
What did I just say.
WHY did I just say that.
She clamped her hand over her mouth—a gesture so human, so un-queen-like, that Yuuta almost laughed.
Stupid! Stupid! her mind screamed. What was that?! Why would I promise him anything?! Why would I—
Her thoughts spiraled into chaos.
Her face stayed perfectly cold.
But inside, the Dragon Queen was panicking.
Yuuta blinked at her.
"Wait, really? You'll explain magic to me?"
Erza didn't answer.
Couldn't answer.
She yanked the car door open and fled.
Strode toward the zoo entrance like she was marching into battle—back straight, chin high, absolutely not running away from a conversation she'd accidentally started.
Yuuta watched her go.
His mouth curved into a confused smile.
"...What was that about?"
Elena tugged his sleeve, her ears no longer covered, her face bright with renewed excitement now that the noise had vanished.
"Papa, Mama is weird."
"Yeah," Yuuta agreed, climbing out of the car. "Mama is definitely weird."
He stretched his arms above his head, feeling his back pop after the long drive. The afternoon sun warmed his face. The silenced crowd moved around them like ghosts. Somewhere inside the zoo, animals waited.
He looked at the entrance again.
"Sometimes she's almost normal," he muttered to himself. "Sometimes she's ruthless. I officially don't understand girls at all."
He paused.
"Even if they're dragons."
Elena grabbed his hand, her tiny fingers warm against his palm.
"Papa! Come on! BEASTS!"
Yuuta smiled down at her—at this impossible, wonderful, loud little creature who had somehow become the center of his world.
"Coming, little princess."
They walked toward the entrance together.
Toward Erza's rigid silhouette waiting by the gates.
Toward whatever adventure waited inside.They walked toward the entrance.
Toward the animals.
Toward whatever chaos awaited.
Behind them, in the parking lot—
A luxury van pulled into a spot nearby.
Black. Tinted windows. Expensive.
The door opened.
Aaron Muru stepped out.
Perfect hair. Perfect jawline. Perfect smile that didn't reach his eyes.
Behind him, his assistant followed—black suit, golden pupils, smile too wide.
"The zoo," Aaron said lazily. "How quaint."
"A wonderful place for... entertainment, " his assistant murmured.
They walked toward the entrance.
Toward the same entrance where a silver-haired queen had just disappeared with her family.
Toward collision.
---
To be continued...
---