Chapter 191: The Confession Strike
"Because I love you."
The words left Erza’s lips like a blade drawn from its sheath, sharp, sudden, impossible to take back.
Her voice echoed through the apartment, cutting through the hum of the refrigerator, the distant sounds of traffic, the soft breathing of the child who sat between them at the table.
It dominated everything, filled every corner, left no space for denial or escape.
Yuuta was silent.
His frustration, his desperation, his desperate need to understand why she was pushing him away, all of it vanished, replaced by something he had not expected. Shock. Disbelief. The words did not make sense.
They could not make sense.
Erza did not love him.
Erza was cold, distant, untouchable.
She had threatened to kill him on their first meeting.
She had called him a mortal, a fool, an idiot.
She had told him, again and again, that their bond was physical, accidental, meaningless.
And now she was sitting across from him with tears in her eyes, saying the one thing he had never allowed himself to hope for.
His face turned red.
Not the flush of embarrassment, but something deeper, the heat of a man who had just been handed something precious and did not know how to hold it.
He looked at Erza’s eyes, and he saw that they were wet, glistening, making her violet pupils more striking than he had ever noticed before.
The tears did not diminish her.
They made her more real.
More human.
More attainable.
Erza caught his gaze.
Her face turned red too, the red of a queen who had just admitted something she had been trying to hide for weeks, the red of a woman who had just made herself vulnerable in front of the one person who could destroy her.
Both of them were caught by the moment. Neither knew how to proceed. The words hung in the air between them, fragile as glass, and any movement, any sound, any breath might shatter them.
The room was silent for a long moment. No one spoke. No one moved.
Elena’s eyes widened.
Her small mouth opened. Her red eyes, so like her father’s, moved from her mother’s face to her father’s and back again. The gears turned behind her young forehead, connecting dots that she had not known were there.
"Mama loves Papa," she said, her voice full of disbelief.
Erza did not move. Did not breathe.
"Mama loves Papa," Elena said again, louder this time, as if testing the words, as if trying to understand what they meant.
Erza wiped her head, a sharp, almost violent motion, as if she was trying to physically shake off the moment.
The spell broke.
The fragile glass of the confession shattered, and both parents looked away from each other, unable to meet the other’s gaze.
Yuuta’s face was red.
He looked in a different direction, at the wall, at the window, at anything that was not Erza. His heart was pounding.
His hands were shaking. He did not know what to say. He did not know what to do. He had not prepared for this.
Elena, however, was smiling.
Her small lips curved upward, and her eyes sparkled with the delight of discovery. To her, it felt as though she had just solved the greatest mystery in the world.
"Mama acts like she hates Papa," Elena said with a giggle, swinging her little legs beneath the chair. "But she loves Papa. Elena knew it. Elena always knew it."
She sounded so proud of herself that it made the situation even worse.
Erza instantly froze. A faint blush spread across her cheeks before she quickly turned her face away. Her silver hair fell forward, hiding most of her expression, but not enough to conceal the redness creeping across her face.
Unfortunately, Yuuta was not handling the situation any better.
The moment Elena made her declaration, he immediately looked away as well, suddenly finding the opposite wall incredibly interesting. Anything was better than looking at Erza right now.
Seeing both reactions only made Elena giggle harder.
"Papa and Mama are acting like kids," she said happily.
The little dragon looked between them, completely unaware of the damage she was causing. In her mind, she had merely pointed out an obvious fact. If anything, she was confused about why both adults were acting so strangely.
Before Elena could continue her investigation, before she could ask the questions already forming in her head, and before she could proudly share any more of her discoveries, Erza slowly turned toward her.
The atmosphere changed immediately.
The Dragon Queen’s violet eyes narrowed ever so slightly as they locked onto Elena.
It was not anger.
It was not even a threat.
But it was the gaze of a queen.
The same gaze that had made dragons kneel and nobles lower their heads.
Elena felt a chill run down her spine.
Her mouth immediately snapped shut.
The words she had been preparing vanished.
The room fell into complete silence.
Yuuta continued staring in the opposite direction, completely unable to deal with the suffocating atmosphere. His brain had stopped functioning several minutes ago, and now he had no idea what he was supposed to say or do.
Elena glanced at her father, then at her mother, and then back at her father again.
Papa looked uncomfortable.
Mama looked embarrassed.
The situation was clearly critical.
Then Elena remembered something she had seen in a cartoon.
When characters found themselves in an awkward situation, they always came up with an excuse to leave.
Her eyes brightened.
"Papa," Elena said quickly, her voice suddenly urgent, "Elena needs to go to the toilet."
Yuuta, who had been desperately searching for an excuse to escape the situation, seized the opportunity like a drowning man grabbing a lifeline. "Okay," he said, his voice too loud, too bright.
"Let’s go, Princess."
He scooped Elena into his arms and carried her out of the living hall, leaving Erza alone at the table.
________
The moment Erza knew she was alone, she covered her mouth with both hands.
"What the fuck did I just say to him?" she whispered, her voice muffled by her palms. Her eyes were wide. Her face was still red. Her heart was still pounding.
"Did I just confess to him like a fool? Like some lovesick teenager in a bad romance novel?"
She pressed her hands harder against her mouth, as if she could push the words back in, as if she could undo what had been done.
"No way," she said. "No way. I am really looking like an idiot now.
Why did I tell him that?
Why did I....."
She paused.
Her hands lowered.
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"Why did I tell him that I love him?"
The words felt different now, heavier, sadder.
The confession had not been a victory.
It had not been a triumph.
It had been a surrender.
An admission of something she had been trying to deny, trying to hide, trying to bury beneath layers of coldness and cruelty and calculated distance.
What is the point of confessing, she thought, when I am going to leave him anyway?
Tears formed in her eyes.
She blinked them back, angry at herself for crying, angry at him for making her feel this way, angry at the universe for putting them together when it had no intention of letting them stay.
She did not know when she had become so weak.
She had faced gods.
She had crushed armies.
She had frozen a port and Slaughter mens without blinking. And now she was sitting in a small apartment, crying over a mortal man, unable to control her own heart.
She wiped her tears with the back of her hand, a sharp, angry motion, and picked up her fork. She began eating her cold curry, staring at nothing, thinking about the man she loved and the future she could not have.
_______
Meanwhile, in the bathroom,
Yuuta stood in the bathroom, Elena perched on the closed toilet lid, watching him with curious eyes.
He had his hands braced on the sink, his head bowed, his reflection staring back at him from the mirror.
His face was red, way redder than it had any right to be, the color spreading from his cheeks to his ears to the back of his neck.
He had splashed water on his face three times already, but the heat would not fade. It was lodged somewhere deep in his chest, burning beneath his ribs, making it hard to breathe.
She loves me.
The thought circled his mind like a bird learning to fly, clumsy at first, then smoother, then soaring.
Erza loved him.
Erza, the dragon queen, the most powerful being in existence, the woman who had threatened to kill him on their first meeting, loved him.
She had said it with tears in her eyes and her voice breaking, and she had meant it.
She loves me.
He looked up at his reflection.
The man in the mirror had red cheeks, wet hair, and an expression that was caught somewhere between disbelief and joy.
He looked like a fool. He felt like a fool. But he could not stop the warmth spreading through his chest, could not stop the smile tugging at the corners of his lips, could not stop the word from echoing through his mind.
She loves me.
"Dammit," he said to his reflection. "She actually confessed. She actually said it."
Elena tilted her head, watching him from the toilet lid. "Papa is being weird," she announced.
Yuuta ignored her.
His mind was already racing ahead, trying to figure out what came next.
What happened after two people confessed to each other? He had never been in this situation before.
He had dated before with Fiona, briefly, awkwardly, before things fell apart, but no one had ever confessed to him. No one had ever looked at him with tears in their eyes and said those three words.
What do I call her now?
The question surfaced from somewhere deep, and once it appeared, he could not push it away.
Do I have to call her honey? Darling? Sweetheart?
The words felt wrong, too soft, too human for someone like Erza.
She was a queen, a dragon, a force of nature.
She was not a honey or a darling.
Babe.
The word slipped into his mind uninvited, and his face turned even redder.
Babe, can you make me dinner? he imagined Erza saying, her voice soft, her cold demeanor melted away into something warm and domestic. The image was so absurd that he almost laughed, almost.
Babe, can you wash my horns?
His reflection stared back at him, unimpressed.
Babe, can we kiss?
He splashed water on his face.
Babe, can we sleep together? Elena is already asleep.
He made a sound, something between a groan and a squeak, and gripped the edges of the sink so hard his knuckles went white. His face was burning.
His heart was pounding.
His mind was supplying scenario after scenario, each one more embarrassing than the last, and he could not make it stop.
"Papa is making weird noises," Elena said from the toilet lid. "Papa, are you sick?"
"I’m fine," Yuuta said, his voice strangled. "I’m just, thinking."
"Papa thinks too much," Elena declared. "Mama says that all the time."
Yuuta closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm the chaos in his chest. It did not work. The warmth was still there, the joy still bubbling beneath the surface, the word still echoing through his mind.
She loves me.
ERZA LOVES MEEEE..
Then the memory came.
Not gently.
Not gradually.
It crashed into him like a wave, cold and dark, washing away the warmth, the joy, the foolish excitement.
What do you have to offer her?
Isvarn’s voice echoed in his skull, low and cold and absolute.
Nothing. You have nothing. You are nothing.
You are not worthy of her. You will never be worthy of her.
Yuuta’s face darkened.
The red faded from his cheeks, replaced by something pale and cold. His hands tightened on the sink. His jaw clenched. The joy that had been bubbling in his chest moments ago vanished, replaced by the cold, hard weight of reality.
He looked at his reflection. The man in the mirror stared back at him with hollow eyes.
How can I act like a fool, he thought, when I can lose everything if I am not strong enough?
He thought of Erza standing before the gods, refusing to kneel. He thought of her walking through the Tower of Gods alone, with no army, no champions, no one to shield her from the trials ahead. He thought of her facing the God of War and saying Kneel or bleed.
And then he thought of himself. Vomiting on the kitchen floor. Crawling like a cockroach under the weight of Isvarn’s aura. Unable to protect himself, unable to protect his family, unable to do anything except cling to the hope that someone stronger would save him.
I have to learn aura, he thought. For the sake of my wife. For the sake of my family. I cannot be weak anymore.
He splashed water on his face, not to cool his blush this time, but to clear his thoughts. To remind himself of what mattered. To steel himself for what was coming.
He looked at his reflection one last time.
"I will not back down," he said. "No matter what."
The man in the mirror nodded.
Elena tugged at his sleeve.
"Papa," she said, "Elena is done. Can we go back to Mama now?"
Yuuta looked down at her and forced a smile. "Of course."
He lifted Elena into his arms and began walking back toward the kitchen. Yet with every step, his thoughts grew heavier.
The conversation with Isvarn refused to leave his mind.
The dragon’s words echoed again and again inside his head.
You are nothing.
What do you have to offer her?
Yuuta clenched his jaw.
For the first time in a long time, he found himself unable to dismiss those words. He wasn’t angry at Isvarn for saying them. Deep down, he was angry at himself.
Because part of him knew the dragon had touched upon a truth he had spent years avoiding.
He was weak.
Every danger that had entered his life had been handled by someone else. Erza protected him. Erza protected Elena. Whenever a crisis appeared, he could do nothing but stand behind them and pray everything would be alright.
What would happen in the future?
What would happen if an enemy appeared while Erza was away?
What would happen if Elena was in danger?
What would happen if one day he lost the people most precious to him simply because he lacked the strength to protect them?
The thought made his chest tighten.
No.
He couldn’t continue living like this.
Not anymore.
If he wanted to remain beside Erza, if he wanted to protect Elena, if he wanted a future where the three of them could stay together, then he needed to change.
He needed strength.
Real strength.
By the time they returned to the kitchen, Yuuta’s hesitation had vanished.
Erza was still sitting at the table, quietly eating her curry. Her expression appeared calm, but she carefully avoided looking in his direction.
The memory of Elena’s teasing still lingered in the room.
Yuuta gently set Elena down.
The little girl immediately wandered off toward her seat while Yuuta remained standing.
Erza sensed him approaching. Even without looking at him, she knew exactly where he was. Her grip tightened slightly around her spoon.
A small part of her began imagining countless possibilities.
Was he going to bring up what Elena said?
Was he going to ask something embarrassing?
Was he going to confess something?
For reasons she refused to acknowledge, her heartbeat became slightly faster.
Then Yuuta spoke.
"Erza."
His voice was firm.
Confident.
The sudden seriousness caught her off guard.
Slowly, she raised her head.
What she saw made her eyes widen.
Yuuta was not standing proudly before her.
He was bowing.
His head was lowered.
His posture carried none of his usual awkwardness or hesitation.
Only determination.
For a moment, Erza simply stared at him in complete confusion.
Then Yuuta took a deep breath.
"Please," he said.
His voice did not waver.
"Teach me aura."
The spoon slipped slightly from Erza’s fingers.
Her mind went blank.
Of all the things she had expected him to say...
That was the last one.
She stared at the man before her, completely shocked, Yuuta was serious.
Dead Serious.
To Be Continued...
