(Yuuta's POV)
The scent of roasted pudding drifted lazily through the air as Fiona and I stood near a cozy little dessert stall tucked between lantern-lit food stands.
She was happily trying to decide between mango or strawberry, while I pretended to debate—truthfully, I was more focused on how her eyes lit up every time she spotted something cute.
It felt... weirdly normal. Warm, even.
But that peace lasted about three seconds.
Because suddenly—
"Paaapaaa!!"
A tiny, familiar voice cracked through the chatter of the festival.
I blinked, slowly turning toward the sound.
And then I saw her.
Elena.
Barreling down the street in her panda hoodie like a plush-clad missile.
My heart leapt to my throat.
Fiona turned at the same time. "Wait... is that—?"
"Oh no," I muttered, panic rising. "That's Elena. That's Elena."
Before I could process anything else, she crashed right into my legs, her arms wrapping tight around me.
"Papa!" she said again, beaming up at me like the sun itself.
My soul left my body.
Erika Hemut is somewhere out here. If she sees this—I'm finished. Forget prison. I'll be in one of her interrogation chairs until I confess to crimes I haven't even committed yet.
I didn't think. I just scooped Elena into my arms like a reflex and ducked behind the pudding stall. Fiona blinked in shock for a second, then scrambled after me, crouching beside us like we were two spies behind enemy lines.
"Elena," she whispered, breathless. "What are you doing here?!"
"Yeah," I hissed, glancing over the stall edge. "You were with Grandpa, remember? You were supposed to be at home!"
Elena gave us both a sheepish little look, cheeks puffed out, as if we were the ones overreacting.
"I was with Grandpa," she said innocently. "But then I saw a panda toy in a shop window. I followed it. And then I saw you, Papa! So I came!"
I stared at her in stunned silence.
"She followed a toy," I muttered, dragging a hand down my face. "A toy. And Grandpa just let her vanish?"
Fiona sighed beside me. "Well, that's... not great."
"We can't stay out here like this," I whispered. "Our cover's blown. We can't keep fake-dating with a whole child calling me Papa in public!"
"No kidding," Fiona whispered back, her voice part laughing, part panicking.
I glanced around. The crowd was thick, noisy—but if we lingered too long, someone was bound to notice.
Especially her.
(Erza's POV)
"Wait," Erika said, squinting past the lanterns. "Was that a kid?"
I didn't respond.
She narrowed her eyes. "Did… did that little girl just call Yuuta Papa?"
My body tensed.
Crap.
She turned to me, expecting an answer.
"Uhhh..." My brain short-circuited for a second.
I stiffened.
Brain, do something. Say something—anything.
"It's… my daughter."
Why did I say that.
Erika turned to me, shocked. "Your daughter?!"
I looked away, but the damage was done. Elena had just called Yuuta "Papa," and now I'd confessed she was my child. In Erika's mind, the puzzle was coming together.
She blinked… and then, slowly, nodded to herself. "Oh. Ohhhhhh."
I frowned. "You understand?"
"I get it now," Erika said, wiping her eyes dramatically. "You must've… lost your husband. When you were still pregnant."
What?
She was already building the soap opera in her head.
"And then Yuuta—your adorable, kind little brother—helped raise the baby. He's been by your side all along. So Elena thinks of him as her Papa. That's so tragic and beautiful…"
She sniffled. A tear slid down her cheek.
I stared at her.
She was... crying.
Crying. Over a fantasy plot she made up in five seconds.
"Get over here," I growled.
"Huh?" She looked up, confused, still sniffling.
I grabbed her face with one hand, leaned in, and gave her a clean, controlled slap across the cheek. Just enough to remind her gravity existed.
She yelped. "Ow! What was that for?!"
"For being the dumbest living person I've ever met," I muttered.
Rubbing her cheek, she pouted. "I was just trying to empathize…"
I stared at her, utterly deadpan.
This is the White Wing's intelligence captain? The woman we were all afraid of?
I suddenly wasn't worried about Yuuta's safety anymore.
The girl's a menace to herself.
(Yuuta Pov)
I paced near the festival stall, one hand on my phone, the other trying to keep Elena from wandering off again.
Ring… ring…
No answer.
Again.
"Damn it," I muttered, glancing at the screen. "Pick up, you lazy lizard…"
Still nothing.
"She's probably sleeping like a pig," I groaned. "Unbelievable."
Fiona, crouched beside Elena and trying to entertain her with a paper fan, looked up at me and smiled softly. "It's alright. We can make up another excuse later. The date doesn't have to end just because our tiny spy is tagging along."
I blinked. "You're serious?"
She shrugged. "Why not? It's just for fun, right?"
"…Okay," I said with a sigh. "Let's go then. Elena, you're coming with us."
She gave a victorious little cheer, grabbing both our hands—mine in her right, Fiona's in her left—as we walked through the street like… like a real little family.
Which felt more dangerous than any fake relationship.
We ended up at an ice cream stall. Naturally, Elena had demanded it with the full force of toddler diplomacy.
"I want strawberry!" she announced, bouncing in place.
So: strawberry for her, vanilla for me, and of course—chocolate for Fiona.
The moment we sat on a bench to enjoy it, the air felt… weirdly calm. Peaceful. Like we belonged here.
Which made what happened next way more awkward.
Elena looked up at me with those curious crimson eyes, spoon halfway to her mouth.
"Papa," she asked, "why are you with Fiona-Aunt and not Mama today?"
I nearly choked on my vanilla.
"I, uh… well… that's… Hm."
Yeah. No excuse. My brain short-circuited.
She lowered her spoon. "I miss Mama…" she said in a wobbly voice. "I wanna spend time with her too…"
Her lip trembled. My heart dropped.
Fiona leaned forward, gently brushing a napkin over Elena's cheek. "What about me?" she asked softly. "Would you let me be your mama? Just for today?"
Elena blinked, sniffled once—then her whole face lit up like fireworks.
"Yes!! Fiona-Mama!"
She threw her arms around Fiona's waist, practically beaming.
Then she turned to me, her smile too sweet to be trusted. "Fiona-Mama, why don't you share your chocolate ice cream with Papa like Mama always does?"
I stared at her.
Traitor.
"Wait, what?" I said, frozen. "Elena—no. That's not necessary. Really. I'm good. Totally good."
Fiona, cheeks flushing pink, held out the spoon. "Here… Yuuta."
"Elena, why are you doing this?" I whispered, trying not to panic.
"Because you always share food with Mama," she said with an innocent blink. "Why not now?"
I wanted the ground to open and swallow me.
Fiona hesitated, then gave me a shy look. "It's just a spoon, Yuuta."
I was about to protest when I heard something.
A low growl.
A presence.
I didn't have to look.
(Erza's POV)
From behind a tree, I glared at the unfolding betrayal like a dragon ready to torch a village.
That traitor child.
My precious Elena—my own daughter—had just handed over the title of "Mama" to that human woman like it was a candy wrapper. And Yuuta? That ungrateful idiot was playing along with it, letting Fiona feed him chocolate like some cheesy romance drama.
And Fiona?
She. Was. Smiling.
I could feel my blood boil hotter than a volcano mid-eruption.
Erika was clinging to me from behind, her arms wrapped around my stomach like a human seatbelt, trying to keep me from charging in.
"Erza, it's okay!" she whispered, struggling. "I know how you feel, but maybe just let your brother have this moment—"
"Private moment?" I growled. "This bastard is sharing dessert with another woman in front of our daughter! I'll show him private. Once this is over, I'm going to shave his head in his sleep."
Yuuta opened his mouth, clearly about to accept the spoon from Fiona like it was some romantic drama scene.
Then—
A miracle.
No… not a miracle.
Me.
I grabbed the nearest rock, aimed like a seasoned marksman—
Thwack.
The stone smacked him square on the sidehead, just as he leaned toward Fiona's spoon. The force sent him lurching forward—headbutting Fiona's hand and sending her chocolate cup flying to the ground in a tragic, gooey splat.
Fiona let out a startled gasp. Yuuta rubbed his head in confusion.
And me?
I laughed.
Like a villain.
A fully unhinged, evil-laughing villain.
"Who would even do that?" Erika muttered beside me, wide-eyed. "You're like… a boss-level overprotective older sister."
I flexed my knuckles. "Did you say something?"
Erika shook her head violently. "Nope. Nothing. You're doing amazing. Best big sister award—truly."
Just then, a sound caught my ear.
A voice.
Familiar. Loud. Off-key.
My brow twitched.
"I'm going to check something," I said darkly. "Keep watching those two."
"Wait, where are you going?" Erika asked.
"Nearby," I muttered, vanishing into the crowd.
I followed the voice through the festival street—past cotton candy stands, face-painting booths, and goldfish games—until I reached the source.
There, on the center stage, lit by spotlights and fog machines…
Grandpa.
Wearing a glittery dragon-print jacket and holding a mic like he was born for the stage.
Singing a Dragon Pop song.
With backup dancers.
Young. Female. Backup dancers.
I stopped dead in my tracks.
The fury came instantly. How dare he.
He left Elena. Alone. In a crowded festival. And he's here—singing karaoke with cosplay girls?!
I didn't even say a word.
I just let loose.
My killing intent flared like wildfire. Across the crowd, Grandpa froze.
He dropped the mic mid-note. The audience, who had been cheering, looked around in confusion.
On stage, Grandpa suddenly froze mid-verse. The crowd clapped in confusion.
"Old Master?" one of them called.
He scanned the audience… and saw me.
We locked eyes.
He turned pale.
"Master Old Man?" someone called. "Why'd you stop?"
He wiped sweat from his brow, visibly paling. "My dear audience… my time has come. You must carry on the song without me."
The crowd gasped in heartbreak.
"Noooo! Old Master!"
He ignored them, slowly stepping down from the stage like he was walking toward his doom.
When he reached me, he smiled nervously. "Ah. My queen. Have you been well—"
CRACK.
Before he could finish, I grabbed his head and *smashed* it into the wall beside the stage.
The dancers screamed. A popcorn vendor dropped his tray.
"You fossil," I hissed, holding him by the collar, "how *dare* you leave my child alone in the middle of a festival."
He coughed. "I—I was only singing one song—"
"You were three verses deep and halfway into choreography!"
"A small lapse in judgment…"
"You're lucky I don't throw you into the river," I growled.
He groaned, still upside down against the wall. "Could you at least not bruise the face? I was going to take a picture with the princess maid café after this…"
I raised my fist again.
"Okay, okay! I'll go get Elena! I'll apologize!"
I let go—barely—and watched him scramble like a frightened beetle.
"When will this pathetic little act end? This fake date is testing my patience."
Just when I thought I had enough watching that ridiculous act of My Grandpa.
I heard it.
A scream.
Sharp. Raw. Real.
I froze for a second, my eyes narrowing. That voice...
No.
My heart skipped, then started racing like it was trying to tear through my chest.
I knew that voice.
Yuuta.
To be continued...