The Capsule House rested silently in the center of a hidden valley.
It was small on the outside, a white, rounded structure with smooth, modern lines that slightly clashed with the wild nature surrounding it, yet perfectly functional, as everything created by Capsule Corp technology always was. A crystal-clear stream ran nearby, winding between smooth stones, while the morning light filtered through the treetops and painted the place in golden, tranquil tones.
Inside, in the main bedroom, the double bed dominated the space. Soft white sheets, almost impossibly clean, covered the wide mattress—large enough for two people to sleep on it without effort. The gentle light of the setting sun entered through the half-open window, dancing over the unconscious body of Irene Belserion...
She frowned first. A small crease appeared between her eyebrows, as if her body were still bracing for the searing pain that should have been there—broken ribs, crushed organs, scorched skin. But nothing came. Only… comfort. A pleasant warmth spreading through her relaxed muscles, as though someone had wrapped every fiber of her in a blanket of warm feathers...
Irene blinked slowly. Her heavy eyelids lifted, revealing brown eyes that, for the first time in centuries, no longer carried that distant haze, that coldness of someone who had long since said goodbye to her own humanity. The pale ceiling came into focus. The scent of clean sheets. The faint swaying of the curtains in the breeze. And then… the silence broken by the stream outside, the distant song of a bird, her own heart beating steadily in her chest.
She slowly raised one hand, almost fearfully.
…Her body!
Her eyes widened.
"Impossible…"
She sat up in bed in a fluid motion, her long scarlet hair cascading like a waterfall over her shoulders. Someone had changed her destroyed clothes for a simple, lightweight white nightgown that contrasted beautifully with her skin. The hat was gone, but she didn't even care…
Why did her body feel so human again—like it had more than four hundred years ago?
It was as if she had become human once more…
Even though she could still sense that she was capable of assuming dragon form, it now felt like merely an option, no longer her true nature.
How was this possible!?
Not even the Emperor of Alvarez had truly been able to return that sensation of being human to her. Ever since she became a dragon more than four hundred years ago, centuries had passed. The reason she had stayed by the emperor's side was simple: he had found her hidden in the mountains and, upon realizing her nature, used magic to instantly restore her human appearance.
Overjoyed at regaining that form, Irene had initially pretended indifference to the fact that she was still, physiologically, a dragon. But she eventually descended into madness as the sensations and physical consequences of her true nature continued to torment her.
…But all of that had changed the moment she awoke.
Now the feeling was unmistakable.
It was as if she had been reborn; finally free from all the madness of being a dragon.
She had become fully human again!
Her heart… was beating.
Emotions flooded in all at once, unfiltered, without the gray haze that had turned everything into indifference: anger, fear, joy, desire… all of it present. And at the center of them, like an unquenchable flame, was his image: Natsu Dragneel...
That wild smile in the middle of battle. The worried look when he found her fallen. The voice saying that… that he had fallen in love with her...
Irene pressed her hand to her chest, clutching the fabric of the nightgown. Her lips trembled. A low, almost incredulous laugh escaped.
"Is this… real?" she murmured to herself, her voice hoarse yet soft, stripped of the arrogant tone she had always used as a shield.
She looked down at her own hands.
Tears—real tears—prickled at the corners of her eyes. How long had it been? Four hundred years? Five hundred? She had forgotten what it felt like to have her chest tighten this way, as though the entire world had regained its colors just for her.
And then came the memory of him carrying her. The way he held her against his chest while the world vanished in a golden flash. The genuine concern in those eyes...
He had done this.
She didn't know how, but she was certain it had been his doing.
How exactly had he done it? Even she didn't fully understand. Centuries of experience, magical knowledge, absolute mastery over enchantments—and still, nothing in her memory offered a clear answer. No known spell. No bodily reconstruction magic she had ever attempted, studied, or surpassed.
Thinking of him… her chest tightened in a way she hadn't felt in hundreds of years. Her heart pounded too hard. Too fast. Every recollection of that reckless smile, that fierce yet absurdly sincere gaze, made something inside her clench almost painfully: desire and passion—she could recognize it...
Even after four hundred years.
That battle… had ripped those emotions back from the depths where they had been buried. He had faced her without fear. Looked at her as a woman.
And now…
Now he had done the impossible.
He had returned to her what not even the most dangerous man in the empire had truly managed to restore: the sensation of being human, the warmth, the living senses, the feelings...
Her greatest desire… fulfilled.
For someone like her, who had spent centuries slowly sinking into madness because she could no longer feel the world as she once had, this was no small detail. It was everything. Absolutely everything.
How could she not be affected?
How could she look at the man who, somehow, had pulled her back from the edge of that abyss, who had made her feel again, and remain indifferent?
No.
She knew the answer.
She couldn't.
No ancient pride, no rebuilt sanity, no emotional wall remained intact after something like this.
If there had already been a spark during the battle… now it had become a blaze.
Because, deep down, she could be many things—queen, dragon, monster...
But in that moment…
She was simply a woman who had finally reclaimed her heart.
And who, inevitably, was beginning to fall in love with the man who had made it beat again...
While she was lost in these thoughts, the door creaked softly as it was pushed open, and Natsu appeared in the doorway, one hand still on the knob as if he had hesitated for a second before entering. His expression mixed relief with a hint of embarrassment...
His eyes met hers immediately.
"Hey… you're awake." His voice came out low, almost gentle—very different from the roar that had echoed across the battlefield hours earlier. He took a step inside, carefully closing the door behind him. "How are you feeling? Any pain? Anything strange?"
Irene didn't answer right away. She simply watched him. The morning light streamed through the window and hit him from the side, highlighting the contours of his face, his messy pink hair as wild as ever, but now glowing warmer in the sunlight. His dark eyes seemed deeper. He was no longer wearing the torn shirt from the fight; instead he wore a simple black t-shirt that hugged his broad shoulders and arms. He looked… more handsome? The thought came so quickly and so uninvited that a treacherous heat rose to her cheeks...
She blinked, forcing the blush back. She regained her composure as swiftly as she used to weave enchantments in the air. She lifted her chin slightly, but her voice came out softer than she intended.
"…What did you do to me?"
Natsu stopped about two meters from the bed, crossing his arms over his chest in an almost defensive gesture. He scratched the back of his neck with one hand, glancing sideways for a second before meeting her gaze again.
"Oh, that…" He took a deep breath, as if carefully choosing his words. "Your clothes were in shreds after the fight. Like, literally turning to ash on your body. I couldn't just leave you like that, right? So… I used a simple substitution enchantment. The kind that swaps clothes from a distance. I didn't touch you, I swear. I just held you to carry you here and lay you down. After that, nothing. You can trust me."
Finishing, he raised both hands open, palms up, in the universal "no tricks" gesture. The smile that followed was crooked, a little guilty, but sincere.
"Sorry if it seemed invasive. There wasn't any other option at the time."
Irene remained silent for a few more seconds. Her brown eyes roamed over his face, absorbing every detail: the way his brows furrowed slightly when he got serious, the way his lips curved even when he tried to look concerned. Her chest tightened again. It wasn't just gratitude. It was something denser, warmer...
She lowered her gaze to her own hands, then looked back at him.
"That's not what I meant…" Her voice came out firm, but with a subtle crack of vulnerability.
"My body… my sensations. I… feel everything again. Like a human. For real." She touched her own chest, right over her heart. "How did you do it?"
Natsu uncrossed his arms and took one more step closer, though he still kept a respectful distance. He tilted his head slightly, as if reliving the moment in his memory.
"I realized during the fight that something was wrong. You looked human on the outside, but inside it was like there was a barrier. Like, your body responded, but your emotions, your senses… they were all muffled. Frozen. I thought that was… sad. Really sad." He shrugged, as if talking about something simple: "So I used [Evolution Magic] and rewrote your body's 'biological information.' Before, you were conceptually a dragon using magic to take human form. Now it's the opposite: a complete human with the ability to transform into a dragon whenever you want. It's no longer a curse… It's just… a choice. Along with that, you also returned to being fully human in terms of sensations and feelings too..."
Irene fell silent. The quiet stretched on for several long seconds, broken only by the distant birdsong and the murmur of the stream outside. Her eyes filled with water again, but she didn't let the tears fall. Instead, she lifted her face to him, and for the first time since waking, a true smile—small, hesitant, but genuine—curved her lips.
"You… really did that." Her voice came out hoarse. "Why?"
Natsu blinked, surprised by the question. Then he scratched the back of his neck again, looking at the floor for a moment before raising his eyes back to her.
"Because… I wanted to. I really enjoyed our fight. I'd never felt those emotions take over my heart like that. Precisely because I like you, I thought you deserved to feel the world again. Like anyone deserves..."
Her heart raced so fiercely that Irene was sure he could hear it.
She held his gaze for another second, the silence between them charged with something neither of them had yet named. Her heart beat erratically, as if trying to make up for four centuries of silence all at once. She took a deep breath, gathering courage for the question burning on the tip of her tongue.
"When you said that… during the fight…" Her voice came out low, almost a whisper. "That you had fallen in love with me. Were you… serious? You did all of this for me because of that…?"
Natsu blinked once, then shrugged.
"Of course I was serious." He answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, no hesitation, no drama. "I'm not the type to say nonsense just to impress. And no, it wasn't only because I fell in love with you that I did it—I have my principles about this kind of thing. But I had the ability to do it, so why not?"
He gave a lopsided smile, simple and sincere, and that alone was enough to make her chest tighten again—this time with a mix of warmth and dizziness. Her heart raced so much that she almost pressed her hand to her chest to calm it. Turbulent. That was the right word. Everything inside her was in turmoil, and in a way she didn't hate at all.
Natsu scratched the back of his neck once more, noticing her silence, and changed the subject with ease.
"Anyway… you must be starving, right?" He jerked his thumb backward toward the kitchen. "Now that you can feel everything like a real human again, I bet food is gonna taste amazing. Like, better than anything you remember from centuries ago. What do you say we eat while we keep talking?"
Irene blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in tone, but… she didn't resist. A small, almost shy smile appeared on her lips. She nodded slowly.
"Yes… I'd like that."
She swung her legs off the bed without hesitation, her bare feet touching the warm wooden floor. The light white nightgown slipped slightly off her shoulders as she stood, naturally outlining her curves in an unpretentious way. She didn't bother adjusting the fabric; there was no shame there, only a strange freedom that came with the return of her humanity. Her body responded to the cool morning air, the texture of the floor, the distant smell of something being prepared downstairs. Everything was new. Everything was alive...
Natsu had already turned to leave the room, giving her space, but he paused at the door when he realized she was following him. Irene walked slowly behind him, her scarlet hair swaying gently with each step. Her brown eyes fixed on his broad back, on the way the muscles moved beneath the black t-shirt, on his relaxed posture...
And then came the smile.
Genuine. Soft. Affectionate. A smile she couldn't contain, one that bloomed without permission and spread across her lips as she looked at his back. It had been centuries since she had smiled like this... She felt so happy...? Just for being there. For being alive. For looking at him.
Natsu stopped and glanced back over his shoulder, sensing her gaze.
"What's up?" he asked, with a curious smile.
Irene shook her head slowly, the smile still there, warmer now.
"Nothing…" she murmured. "I'm just… really hungry."
He chuckled softly, pleased, and continued toward the small kitchen of the capsule house.
"Then come on. Let's see if I can impress you with something other than my strength."
And Irene followed him, her heart still racing—but this time not from fear or confusion. It was anticipation. It was something that felt dangerously like hope...
And she didn't want it to stop.
All of this was new and incredibly thrilling for her.
It had been so long since she had wanted this...
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