Yuuta's POV
Luno City, 7:00 a.m.
I stood on the balcony of my small apartment, coffee in hand, and a mild existential crisis brewing in my chest.
The city of Yuno was waking up below me—buses honking, kids racing off to school, people rushing to jobs they probably hated. Same as always.
Except... not for me.
Because inside my apartment, there was a woman.
Not just any woman.
A silver-haired, Voilet-eyed beauty who looked like she'd stepped out of a fantasy novel and decided she owned the place. She claimed to be my wife. My actual wife. And she brought a child with her.
No. Two.
Apparently, I had two children.
Let that sink in.
I sipped the coffee. It tasted like paper. Maybe because my brain was still stuck on the fact that I was allegedly married to a woman I couldn't remember, with kids I didn't even know existed a day ago.
I leaned against the railing, staring at the rising sun as it peeked between the buildings. The sky was turning soft orange. Warm. Comforting. Almost enough to make me believe this was all just a dream.
But the silence inside my head was too clear. Too real.
I dragged a hand down my face and sighed. "What the hell is my life?"
I wasn't even thirty yet, working a dead-end job, just got ghosted by my high school crush Fiona, and was about to confess to her later this week. I had a plan. I even bought a small ring. Something cheap, but meaningful.
And now?
Now a woman named Erza had barged into my home like she belonged here, declared herself my wife, and started acting like we were already a family.
Just... what?
My eyes narrowed as a thought hit me like a brick.
Wait a second. How the hell did I get married in the first place?
I turned around slowly.
No ceremony. No memory. No photos. No paperwork.
All I remember was... a dream.
One strange dream.
And maybe… one night. One reckless night I couldn't fully recall.
No way, I thought, stepping inside.
I walked back into the living room. Erza was sitting on the couch, flipping through channels on the TV with a mix of confusion and cold indifference, like someone trying to decode alien signals.
Her posture was perfect. Straight-backed, legs crossed, chin slightly raised. Regal. Dominant. Dangerous.
She looked far too powerful for someone casually watching a Drama show.
"Erza," I said cautiously.
She turned her head slowly, eyes locking onto me with a glare that felt like being stared down by a predator. Her Voilet irises almost glowed in the dim morning light.
"If you plan to waste my time with nonsense again," she said, "speak quickly."
I raised my hands in surrender, took a deep breath, and dropped to one knee.
"My Queen," I said dramatically, "please answer me this one question."
She arched a brow. "Go on."
"How the hell did I become your husband?"
She narrowed her eyes. "You truly don't remember?"
"Not a thing. I don't remember any wedding, any vows, nothing! One night. That's all I remember. How does that make me a husband?!"
Erza stood slowly. Even her movements had weight to them, like gravity bent around her when she moved.
"In my world," she said calmly, "once a dragon chooses a partner and an heir is born, the bond is formed. Flesh, blood, soul. You became my husband the moment you made me a mother."
"That's… That's insane," I said, standing. "That's not how it works here!"
"In your world," she said coldly, "perhaps. But you are no longer just of this world. You touched mine, and now, whether you accept it or not… you are bound to me."
I opened my mouth to argue again, but her glare deepened. And just like that, I closed it.
One punch from her last night had felt like getting hit by a wrecking ball made of fire and regret. I didn't want a repeat.
"Mama, I'm hungry…"
A small voice broke the tension. I turned toward the hallway. A little girl peeked out from behind the corner, rubbing her sleepy eyes.
White hair. Crimson eyes. Like Me.
Elena.
My daughter.
That word still felt too big in my mouth. Too heavy.
Erza sighed. "I'll prepare breakfast."
I blinked. "Wait… You cook?"
"Of course," she said, walking past me. "You are connected to me by fate. Consider yourself fortunate I haven't let you starve yet."
I watched her disappear into the kitchen like a battle queen entering her new territory.
"...Thanks?" I said under my breath.
She didn't reply.
__________________
(Fifteen minutes had passed.)
Not a single sound came from the kitchen.
No sizzling. No chopping. Not even the soft bubbling of boiling water.
Not even… gas.
Nothing.
Just the quiet hum of the refrigerator and the awkward silence of my brain wondering if I was about to be poisoned or impressed.
Did she even know how to cook?
Or was she secretly a master chef in her dragon kingdom—some battle-hardened warrior who also ran a five-star restaurant on the side?
Highly doubtful.
I sat on the floor of the living room with Elena between my legs, brushing out her white, tangled hair. She had hair like her mother's—fine, soft, but wild, like moonlight with a temper.
She didn't say much. Just swayed slightly while I brushed, humming to herself a tune I didn't recognize.
Honestly, I didn't know how to act around her yet. Was I supposed to be fatherly? Gentle? Strict?
I barely knew how to talk to kids, let alone raise one.
"Are you always this quiet in the morning?" I asked.
She nodded without looking back. "Mama said silence is strength."
"Well, your mama also walks around like she owns gravity, so I'm not surprised," I muttered.
Elena giggled. Just a little.
Somehow, that sound made everything feel a bit more... real.
I paused brushing. "Hey, Elena… Do you remember me? Before all this?"
She tilted her head. "Of course. You're Papa. You always looked like this."
"Like what?"
She blinked at me. "Tired."
I stared. "Wow. Brutally honest. Great."
She giggled again.
Then—click.
I turned toward the kitchen.
Erza stepped out, holding a metal tray like she was presenting an ancient artifact. On top of it, a domed lid shimmered with a faint, unnatural glow. Magic? Probably.
Her expression was unreadable as she walked over, set the tray on the table, and slowly removed the lid with all the dramatic flair of someone revealing a legendary sword.
Underneath… was food.
Real food.
Being married might not be so bad.
I opened the lid of the plate.
Silence.
Just... Roast plain chicken. Sitting there. No seasoning. No oil. Just... meat.
Me: "What the fuck is that?"
Erza: "Meat. What? You don't like meat?"
I blinked. "Is this what you 'made'? You just put chicken on a plate and use magic on it called it breakfast?!"
"Using magic to cook? That's borderline illegal. Cooking should be something made with love, care, and fire—not shortcuts." I said in frustratation since, I am an hotelier student.
Elena (our daughter): "Mama's dish is tasty! I like it!"
Erza squinted at me like I was the problem here, like her cooking was Michelin star level and I was ungrateful.
"Fine!" she huffed. "You make something then, you worm! Show me your so-called loving cooking!"
Me (imagining a shounen-style cooking battle):You just wait... I'll show you the power of human cuisine!
Elena: "Daddy, you know how to cook?"
She looked up at me with those big eyes—so pure, so full of faith.
Me (heart exploding):She's the goddess of my life.
Nosebleed.
"Yes, my dear daughter. I'll make you the most delicious dish ever."
Elena: "Yay! I love you, Papa!"
...Nosebleed intensifies.
Erza turned her face away, arms crossed in dramatic offense.
"Hmph. Whatever. I'm eating my breakfast. I'm not touching your psycho-dish."
I narrowed my eyes, stepping into the kitchen like a warrior walking onto the battlefield.
"You dare insult my skills, Lizard Queen?" I smirked. "Well then—witness true culinary power! I hold a Hotel Management degree!"
Evil laughter echoed in the air.
"Muahahaha!"
Time to cook.
I checked the ingredients:
Chicken breast
Flour
Bread crumbs
Eggs
Oil
Mayonnaise
Hmm... oh yes. Crispy Chicken with Mayo.
"Chickin... Crity... Manogos!" Elena tried her best to pronounce it, looking up at me with sparkly eyes.
So. Damn. Cute. She's definitely my daughter. No DNA test needed.
I cracked my knuckles. "Alright, let's cook."
First, I poured oil into a pan—medium heat only. We don't want it burning while I prep. Then I grabbed the chicken.
Butterfly cut—gently slice it open to flatten it. Then I poked it lightly with a fork. (Give it some love. Chicken deserves it.)
"Why is he talking so much?" Erza muttered from the sidelines. "It's just cooking, weirdo..."
I ignored the hater in the back.
Next up: prep stations. Three trays:
One bowl for the eggs (crack three eggs and whisk them like your life depends on it)
One tray with flour (yes, plain ol' flour)
One tray with breadcrumbs (mix them with a pinch of salt and black pepper—don't be shy with the pepper, it'll make it pop)
"Important tip!" I said to my imaginary camera. "Don't overcook the chicken—just 3 to 5 minutes per side, max! We want crispy, not charcoal."
"Okay, Papa!" Elena cheered, clearly pumped to see me work my magic.
"Always wash your hands first, Elena. Then—egg, flour, egg, crumbs. Got it?" I showed her the full breading process like a pro.
Together, we dipped the chicken into the egg wash, rolled it in flour, back in the egg, then pressed it into the breadcrumbs like it was the most important thing in the world. You know, the usual "crunchy coating" process.
Ssshhh... the sound of frying filled the room as the chicken went into the hot oil, sizzling away.
It's magic. Cooking magic. Crispy chicken magic.
The aroma spread like magic.
> "What... is that smell?" Erza twitched. "It smells... delicious. No way. What the hell is he making?!"
> "Papa, is it ready yet?" Elena tugged at my shirt. "Please, just a little bite?"
I held back a proud tear.
"Not yet, princess. It's still hot. Go help Papa set the table."
> "Yes, Papa!"
She ran off like a spark of light.
I turned back to the pan, smirking.
"Alright... almost ready. Now I just need to add—"
Garnish Evil laugh...
Evil laugh mode: ON.
I placed the golden crispy chicken on a big serving plate, garnished it with style, and carried it like a five-star chef.
BOOM.
Presented it on the table like I just summoned Excalibur.
Elena and Erza were sparkling.
"Woahhh... it's golden!"
"And that aroma… is this… a heavenly dish?!" Erza gasped.
I smirked, wiping my hands dramatically. "Hah! Looks like someone enjoys my psycho cooking!"
Erza:"Tch! You probably just used illusion magic to deceive us—this isn't real food!"
I covered my eyes with one hand, tilted my head back, and let out the most dramatic villain laugh:
"HAHHAHAHA! I've always seen losers scream when they lose!"
Elena munched happily.
"Mama, it's sooo tasty! Elena loves it! It's delicious!"
"Papa, you're the best dad ever!"
I gave her a proud dad smile. "Dip it in mayonnaise, my princess—and chew properly, okay?"
Meanwhile, Erza was dying inside. Her pride battled her stomach. She wanted to try it—but she folded her arms, pretending not to care.
Me: (smirking like a menace) "Oh, are you avoiding it, my Queen? Let me help."
I picked up a crispy piece and waved it in front of her.
"Look, it's flying! Wheee~ wheee~"
She struggled, face twitching, trying not to show weakness.
I loved every second of it.
Then—plot twist.
Right before she opened her mouth, I swerved and fed it to Elena.
"Heh. Revenge is sweet, Lizard Queen."
But… then I saw it.
A little tear welled up in Erza's eye.
Crap. I went too far.
I stopped messing around and offered her a real piece—genuinely.
She huffed and looked away.
"I'm not eating it. I'm just… checking the flavor. For research."
She bit into it. One piece.
And then her soul ascended.
A full-body foodgasm.
The flavors exploded across her tongue like a symphony of meat and magic.
She blinked. Then blinked again. Then quietly devoured the rest. Didn't leave a single crumb.
Elena was laughing. I was laughing. Erza was… smiling?
Maybe… this chaotic, crazy, disaster of a life… is actually kind of fun.
I finally sat down at the table, wiping sweat off my forehead like I'd just completed a boss fight.
Erza had devoured half the plate, pretending she wasn't impressed while secretly loving every bite.
Elena? She was already asking for seconds.
Elena: "Papa's food is better than school lunch! Can you cook every day?"
Erza: (grumbling) "Hmph… it was okay. Maybe."
I leaned back in my chair, arms crossed smugly.
"Admit it, Queen. You lost. My cooking wins."
She glared at me like she wanted to throw the fork.
"Don't get cocky, Worm. Next time, I'll cook something that blows your tiny human brain away."
I laughed.
Me: "Can't wait to see you try, Lizard Queen."
Everything was peaceful… until I checked the time.
Me: "...Wait. What time is it?"
I grabbed my phone and nearly died.
8:57 A.M.
My college class starts at 9.
I shot up from the table like my chair was on fire.
Me: "NOOOOOOOO—!"
Erza: "Why are you yelling now?"
Me: "I'M GONNA BE LATE! I HAVEN'T EVEN SHOWERED—ELENA WHERE ARE MY SOCKS?!"
Elena: "I made a hat out of them, Papa!"
Erza: "Good. Let them see what kind of disaster you really are."
And just like that, I was sprinting around the house, half-dressed, with my daughter laughing, my wife smirking, and my life spiraling into madness.
This is married life, huh?
[End of chapter]
Author's Note:
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