(Yuuta's POV)
Uff… we got thrown out of the hotel. Great. One night left in the city, and we were officially homeless.
Erza was already venting her frustration by kicking Allen. Well, she should—he's the reason we lost our five-star suite and her precious mood along with it.
Meanwhile, Elena was laughing like nothing happened, chasing butterflies and enjoying herself as if we weren't stranded in the middle of nowhere. That girl really doesn't know what "stress" means.
I let out a long sigh and pulled out my phone. "Alright… time to find another hotel," I muttered, scrolling through endless booking sites. Every decent place was either full or way over my budget.
"Why is everything so expensive…" I groaned, staring at the prices like they were mocking my wallet. "Curse my earnings…"
No, seriously—fifteen hundred dollars a night, and it's not even a five-star hotel? Are they serving gold for breakfast or what?
I rubbed my forehead, scrolling through the booking app for the tenth time. Every hotel in Tokyo was either full, overpriced, or just plain suspicious. "Looks like we'll have to move a bit farther out of the city if we don't want to sleep under a bridge," I muttered under my breath.
So, I adjusted the location and searched again. This time, something interesting popped up—
a small but cozy-looking inn near Mount Fuji.
I blinked at the screen. "Mount Fuji…?" For a second, my brain froze. Then it hit me like lightning. "Wait—holy water! How did I forget this place? The famous Mount Fuji, home to breathtaking views, peaceful air, and cherry blossom parks!"
My sudden yell startled Elena, who came running over with her tiny wings fluttering excitedly behind her.
"Papa! Did we find a new nest?" she asked, her voice full of hope. Her wings twitched rapidly, wagging like a puppy's tail.
I couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, we did. But we'll have to travel a bit to get there."
Her eyes sparkled. "Yay! We're going on the bullet train again!" She jumped in circles, laughing like she'd just won the lottery.
Behind her, Erza stood with crossed arms, her expression a mix of exhaustion and suppressed irritation. Poor Allen was pretending to be invisible beside her, probably praying she wouldn't remember why we were kicked out in the first place.
I glanced at them and sighed. "Guess we're off on another adventure."
And for a brief moment, even with all the chaos, I couldn't help but feel… happy.
After a few hours of traveling on the bullet train, we finally reached our destination—Mount Fuji.
The moment I stepped off the train, the difference hit me. The air here was cold but clean, almost sharp in my lungs. The silence wrapped around us like a blanket—no honking cars, no chatter, no chaos. Just wind, birds, and the faint rustle of leaves.
It was… peaceful. So peaceful that I could actually hear my own heartbeat.
When I looked up, I couldn't help but stare. The mountain stood tall, its snowy crown glistening under the sun. Around its base stretched five shimmering lakes, reflecting the mountain like a perfect mirror. Deer grazed quietly nearby, their movements slow and calm, like they'd been living in harmony with this place forever.
Honestly, it was breathtaking.
I turned my gaze to Erza. She wasn't saying anything, but I could tell this place suited her. In Tokyo, she'd been constantly tense—too much noise, too many people staring at her dragon ears, too many things she didn't understand.
But here… the calm breeze brushed through her silver hair, and for once, she looked at peace.
Yeah. She needed this. We all did.
Something tugged on my leg. I looked down and saw Elena staring up at the mountain, her golden eyes wide with wonder.
"Papa," she said, her voice soft but full of excitement, "that mountain is huge! Like Zen Mountain!"
"Zen Mountain?" I blinked. "What's that supposed to be?"
Before Elena could answer, Erza's cool voice cut in. "Don't, Elena. We can't spoil things that don't belong to this world's story." She crossed her arms, looking unimpressed. "Besides, Zen Mountain is far bigger than this tiny rock."
I turned to her, jaw dropping. "Tiny rock? Are you kidding me? Look at that thing! It's literally stabbing the sky! You call that a tiny rock?"
Erza exhaled through her nose, her tone dripping with superiority. "Listen, you foolish mortal. In this world, perhaps it seems grand. But in my world, mountains like this are everywhere. Some reach higher than the clouds themselves."
I squinted at her. "Yeah, yeah, your magical dragon world, I get it. But tell me—" I gestured at the mountain, the lakes, and the soft pink petals floating through the air—"can you find peace like this in your world?"
That made her pause. Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out. She just stood there, her gaze drifting toward the lake as the wind played with her silver hair. For a long moment, she simply watched the ripples spreading across the water.
Then, in a quiet voice, she asked, "What exactly do you mean by peace?"
I looked at her, then at the mountain behind her. The air was crisp, the world silent. "Well," I said slowly, "I'm sure your world has mountains way bigger than this one. Maybe grander too. But I bet those mountains are crawling with dangerous creatures, right? Monsters, traps, magic beasts... it sounds like a nightmare for someone like me."
She didn't answer immediately. Her expression was calm, but I could see it in her eyes—she didn't want to admit I had a point.
"So what if it's dangerous?" she finally said, tilting her head slightly, her voice carrying that proud, noble tone again. "I could still enjoy it. Elena would love it there. We could travel anywhere together."
I smirked, shaking my head. "And what about me? A normal human in your deadly, dragon-filled world? Don't you think I'd be gone the second I stepped onto one of those mountains?"
Erza turned her head toward me, her eyes meeting mine. Her voice softened—not much, but just enough to feel it. "No," she said simply. "No one would dare attack you... not while I'm with you."
I froze for a second. The way she said it—it wasn't just confidence, it was a promise.
Something inside me stirred.
It was strange. That one line... it hit me harder than I expected. It felt like being told, 'You're safe now.'
And honestly, it was kind of embarrassing. My face grew warm before I could stop it.
It was like someone just said, 'Go ahead, do whatever you want—your dad owns the country.'
Except this time, it wasn't a billionaire or a mob boss.
It was Erza—the Dragon Queen herself—standing there in the sunlight like some divine protector who could erase anyone with a snap of her fingers.
For a moment, I couldn't help but smile.
Yeah… as long as she was with me, I really had nothing to fear.
My eyes shifted toward Allen, who was quietly following us at a distance, his expression unreadable as always. My ever-loyal servant… or bodyguard… or possibly walking disaster magnet.
Still, with both of them beside me, I felt strangely untouchable.
And then, when I looked back at Erza, something in her expression softened.
The pride, the sharpness—they faded just a little.
Her gaze lingered on the horizon, calm and distant.
For that brief moment, she didn't look like the Dragon Queen.
She looked… human.
Then, as if realizing she'd shown too much, she turned away. "Don't get carried away," she muttered and started walking ahead.
I smiled faintly, watching her go.
Typical Erza — pride first, feelings later.
We strolled along the path leading up to Mount Fuji, surrounded by ancient temples that had stood for centuries and cherry blossom trees shedding their petals in soft, pink showers. The air smelled faintly of incense and flowers, and every gust of wind carried the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of birds. It felt like the world had slowed down just for us.
Erza walked beside me, calm and composed as ever, her presence steady like a rock in the middle of this peaceful scene. In the center, Elena skipped along, holding both our hands tightly, her laughter bright enough to compete with the sun. Behind us, Allen moved silently, keeping to my shadow, careful not to intrude on our family's small, perfect bubble.
There was something almost magical about it—walking like this, holding your child's hands while she holds your wife's hand too, moving together through a serene garden filled with history and life.
I couldn't help but think of the old legend saying: a good marriage gives you 85% of happiness. But looking at them, feeling this moment, I realized my life didn't need percentages. It was already full. Completely full. Joy, peace, and laughter surrounded me like a warm cloak, and I had all of it right here.
And for the first time in a long while, I felt like this—truly—was exactly where we were meant to be.
To be continued…