Mia took a small sip from the clay cup.
The burn hit first.
Then the warmth spread slowly down her throat.
She froze for half a second.
Then—
"AHHH…"
She let out a long, satisfied breath and stared at the cup like it had personally returned from the dead.
"It's been seven years…"
She lifted it slightly with deep emotional respect.
"Seven whole years since I tasted wine."
Ebruhan, sitting beside her with his own cup, raised an eyebrow.
"I take it this was something you enjoyed often in your previous life?"
Mia nodded, a faint smile forming.
"Yeah… not all the time, but sometimes."
She looked down at the clear liquid, her voice growing softer.
"My old name was Riko."
Ebruhan stayed quiet, listening.
"Just a normal guy, honestly. Nothing special."
She gave a small laugh.
"I worked in an office. Boring job. Papers, computers, deadlines, annoying bosses… the usual suffering."
Ebruhan frowned slightly.
"Computers?"
Mia pointed at him.
"Don't interrupt. That requires, like… three more hours of explanation."
Ebruhan slowly nodded.
"Understood."
Mia took another small sip.
"I had friends though. Good ones."
Her expression softened.
"Every Sunday, we'd go out somewhere. Food, drinks, stupid conversations… sometimes just walking around with no real plan."
Ebruhan tilted his head.
"Sunday?"
Mia blinked.
"…Wait."
She turned toward him.
"You don't know what Sunday is?"
Ebruhan looked genuinely confused.
"I do not."
He folded his arms thoughtfully.
"Is it some kind of festival? A noble gathering? A holy event?"
Mia stared at him for a full second.
Then covered her face.
"Oh no."
She pointed dramatically.
"Right. Different world. No calendar trauma."
Ebruhan blinked.
"…Calendar trauma?"
Mia sat up straighter like a professor preparing a lecture.
"Alright. Listen carefully."
She held up one finger.
"In my old world, a week had seven days."
Ebruhan nodded.
"Reasonable."
She raised a second finger.
"One of those days was called Sunday."
Another nod.
"Still reasonable."
She raised a third finger.
"And the next day…"
Her voice dropped into something dark and haunted.
"…was Monday."
Ebruhan narrowed his eyes.
"…I sense hatred."
Mia took another drink.
"You should."
She stared into the distance like a war veteran remembering battle.
"Monday was suffering."
Ebruhan, now deeply invested, slowly leaned forward.
"…Tell me everything."
Of course, once Mia started explaining…
there was no escape.
The rice wine sat forgotten between them as Ebruhan received what could only be described as an emergency lecture on modern civilization.
Mia drew rough shapes in the dirt with a stick like a slightly tipsy professor.
"Alright, so first: weekend."
She drew seven little lines.
"Two days of freedom."
She circled them dramatically.
"Saturday and Sunday."
Then she stabbed the other five lines like they had insulted her family.
"And these five are suffering."
Ebruhan crossed his arms.
"Why not simply… refuse?"
Mia stared at him.
"Because society."
"…I dislike society already."
"Exactly."
She continued.
"Then months. Twelve of them. Different weather, holidays, taxes, emotional damages
Then came computers.
This part took the longest.
Mia spent nearly twenty minutes trying to explain laptops, internet, emails, and office work to a dragon who had once fought a war over mountain territory.
"So basically," Ebruhan said slowly, trying to understand, "you stared into a glowing box all day…"
"Yes."
"…while angry people sent you messages…"
"Yes."
"…and if you did not answer fast enough, everyone became upset?"
"Yes."
"…and this was considered normal?"
Mia pointed at him with the dignity of a defeated soldier.
"Exactly."
Ebruhan looked genuinely horrified.
"I have fought abyss monsters less terrifying than this."
Mia nodded solemnly.
Ebruhan went silent.
Then slowly lifted his cup.
"I suddenly respect you far more."
Mia snorted.
"Thank you."
She leaned back against the wooden post.
"Honestly, sometimes I wonder how I even survived that life."
Ebruhan looked at her for a moment before giving a quiet laugh.
"I wonder the same."
He took a sip of wine and shook his head.
"I mean… if I lived under that much pressure…"
He looked toward the open night sky outside the barn.
"…I would simply fly away."
Mia burst out laughing.
"That's because you can actually fly!"
Ebruhan shrugged.
"A very useful life skill."
She wiped tears from the corner of her eye.
"Trust me, if office workers had wings, half the world would be empty by noon."
Ebruhan smirked faintly.
"Understandable."
For a while, they just sat there in the quiet barn, sharing the rice wine and stories from a world Ebruhan could barely imagine.
Mia stared quietly into the small clay cup in her hands.
The rice wine reflected the lantern light in soft ripples.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
Then, in a much quieter voice, she said—
"You know…"
She turned the cup slowly between her fingers.
"I still can't believe I was reborn as a dragon."
Ebruhan stayed silent, listening.
Mia gave a small, tired laugh.
"Actually, scratch that. I can't believe I was reborn at all."
Her eyes drifted toward the open barn door, toward the moonlit sky.
"One day I was just… living."
"Working. Complaining. Existing."
"And then suddenly…"
She tapped her chest lightly.
"…this."
She looked down at herself.
The human body for now. But not truly human anymore.
A dragon. A black dragon.
She exhaled slowly.
"But what really messes with me…"
Her voice softened.
"…is why I still remember."
Ebruhan frowned slightly.
"Your memories?"
Mia nodded.
"Yeah."
She leaned back against the wooden wall.
"If reincarnation is real… shouldn't I have just started over?"
"New life. New person."
"But I remember everything."
"My old name. My old world. My friends."
She swallowed slightly.
"Sometimes I wonder if I'm really Mia…"
"…or if I'm just Riko pretending to be her."
The words hung heavily in the quiet barn.
Even the night outside seemed still.
Ebruhan looked at her for a long moment.
Then he spoke carefully.
"Do you regret it?"
Mia blinked.
"What?"
"Keeping those memories."
His voice was calm.
"If you could forget everything from before…"
"…would you?"
She opened her mouth to answer.
But no words came.
Because honestly—
she didn't know.
Her old life had pain.
Stress. Loneliness. Routine.
But it also had people she cared about.
Laughter. Friendship. A life that had been hers.
And now—
this world had Leo.
Vinson.
This estate.
Ebruhan.
A family she never expected.
A place she had chosen.
After a long silence, Mia finally shook her head.
"…No."
Her answer was quiet, but firm.
"I don't think I would."
She smiled faintly.
"Even if it hurts sometimes."
"Those memories are still mine."
She looked at him.
"They made me who I am."
Ebruhan nodded once.
Then he gave a small smile.
"Then perhaps that is your answer."
Mia frowned slightly.
"What do you mean?"
He folded his arms.
"Maybe you remember because you were never meant to erase yourself."
His eyes reflected the lantern light.
"Perhaps this life was not meant to replace the last one."
"…but to continue it."
Mia stared at him.
For once—
the usually sarcastic dragon girl had absolutely nothing clever to say.
She just sat there quietly.
Then muttered—
"…Why are you good at sounding wise when I'm having an existential crisis?"
Ebruhan took another sip of rice wine.
"I practice."
Ebruhan swirled the remaining rice wine in his cup, watching the clear liquid move in slow circles.
Then, almost casually, he asked—
"Was there anyone you miss the most?"
Mia looked up.
He leaned against the wooden post, voice calm.
"Someone… special, perhaps?"
There was the tiniest pause before he added—
"A close friend. Family. Someone important."
Mia narrowed her eyes immediately.
"Why do I feel like that question had hidden intentions?"
Ebruhan lifted his cup innocently.
"I am simply a concerned listener."
"Liar."
"Only slightly."
Mia sighed and leaned back.
For a moment, she just stared at the wooden ceiling above them.
"…Yeah."
Her voice was softer now.
"There were people."
She smiled faintly.
"My friends from work mostly."
"Every Sunday we'd meet up. Same idiots every week."
She let out a quiet laugh.
"One guy always showed up late and blamed traffic, even when we all knew he just overslept."
"Another one acted like he was too cool for everything, but cried during movies."
"And one girl—"
She paused.
Her smile changed slightly.
"She was probably the loudest person I knew."
Ebruhan listened quietly.
Mia shook her head, smiling to herself.
"She'd drag all of us out when we were tired."
'You're all depressed and ugly, let's go eat something,' she used to say."
Ebruhan blinked.
"…She sounds powerful."
"She was terrifying."
Mia laughed softly.
Then the laughter faded.
"I miss that."
"The normal stuff."
"The dumb conversations. Complaining about work. Arguing over where to eat."
She looked down at her hands.
"No grand tragedy. Just… ordinary life."
Ebruhan was quiet for a while.
Then he asked gently—
"And no one more… special than that?"
Mia slowly turned toward him.
"…Are you asking if I had a girlfriend?"
Ebruhan took a very careful sip of wine.
"I did not say that."
"You absolutely meant that."
He coughed into his hand.
"I was asking broadly."
Mia snorted.
"No."
She shook her head.
"No girlfriend. No dramatic love story. No tragic romance."
She pointed at herself.
"Just me. Office goblin."
Ebruhan looked oddly relieved for half a second.
Mia caught it instantly.
Her eyes narrowed.
"…Why do you look relieved?"
He straightened immediately.
"I do not."
"You absolutely do."
"I am merely relieved your story contains fewer emotional complications than expected."
"Wow. That was the most suspicious sentence you've said all week."
Ebruhan calmly finished his drink.
"I choose not to defend myself."
Mia stared at him.
Then smirked.
"…Interesting."
Ebruhan sat there for a moment, still recovering from the complete destruction of his dignity.
He cleared his throat.
Twice.
"Ahem…"
Mia, still clearly enjoying his suffering, smirked into her cup.
Ebruhan very deliberately changed the subject.
"So…"
He stared at the opposite wall like it was giving him emotional support.
"Did you have family there?"
Mia's smile faded a little.
The playful mood softened.
"…There was."
She looked down at the rice wine in her hands.
A quiet pause.
"Parents."
She shrugged faintly.
"Nothing dramatic. No tragic story. No evil villains."
"Just… normal people."
She traced a finger along the rim of the cup.
"But after I turned eighteen…"
Her voice grew quieter.
"…I left and lived on my own."
Ebruhan listened silently.
Mia gave a small, humorless laugh.
"That's normal where I came from."
"Most people leave their parents. Start working. Build their own life."
She leaned back against the wooden wall.
"At first, I thought I'd call more."
"Visit more."
"You know… be a proper son."
She smiled bitterly.
"But work got busy."
"Then life got busy."
"Then somehow…"
She stared out into the night.
"…months became years."
The barn felt very quiet.
Even the wind seemed to hush.
"I didn't hate them."
She said it quickly, like correcting something important.
"Not even close."
"I just…"
She struggled for the words.
"…kept thinking there would always be more time."
Another small laugh.
"Turns out, life likes jokes."
Ebruhan said nothing.
He didn't need to.
Mia's voice dropped almost to a whisper.
"I haven't contacted them since then."
She swallowed.
"And sometimes…"
Her fingers tightened slightly around the cup.
"…I regret that."
A lot.
She didn't say the last part.
She didn't need to.
Ebruhan looked at her for a long moment.
Then quietly asked—
"If you could speak to them now…"
"…what would you say?"
Mia blinked.
For once, she answered immediately.
"…Sorry."
Her voice cracked just slightly.
"For being too busy."
"For acting like there would always be tomorrow."
She smiled faintly, but it hurt.
"And probably…"
She looked up at the stars above the barn roof.
"…thank you."
Ebruhan nodded slowly.
Then, very gently, he said—
"Then perhaps… you should live this life in a way that honors that regret."
Mia looked at him.
He folded his arms, voice calm.
"You cannot return there."
"But you can choose differently here."
"Family is still family."
His eyes drifted toward the estate house.
Toward Leo. Toward Vinson.
"…Even if they arrive in strange forms."
Mia followed his gaze.
And after a long silence—
she smiled.
A small one.
But real.
"…Yeah."
She looked toward the house too.
"Yeah… I think I already started."
Ebruhan stood up slowly, brushing a bit of dust from his clothes.
The rice wine bottle was nearly empty. The night had grown deeper.
He gave her a small smile.
"Well…"
He stretched his shoulders.
"I should be going."
Mia nodded, still sitting against the wooden post.
"Yeah."
She lifted a hand lazily.
"Take ca—"
She stopped.
Her face changed.
"…Wait."
Ebruhan blinked.
"Mia?"
She covered her mouth.
"Hold on, I—"
Then—
"BLEGH—!"
She turned sideways and threw up.
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Even the crickets outside seemed judgmental.
Ebruhan stared.
Mia stared at the floor.
Then, with the dignity of a fallen emperor, she muttered—
"…Ughhh."
"…fuck."
Ebruhan crouched down immediately.
"Are you alright?"
Mia wiped her mouth, looking like she wanted to leave this planet.
"Yeah, yeah… I'm fine."
She groaned.
"My mistake was forgetting…"
She pointed weakly at herself.
"…that physically, I am still basically seven."
She dropped her head against the wall.
"Fantastic. Glorious. Peak dignity."
Ebruhan, trying very hard not to laugh, lifted one hand.
Blue mana shimmered softly.
The mess disappeared instantly, cleaned away by magic.
Mia watched him with tired betrayal.
"Ughhh…"
"I really should not have gone past two cups…"
Ebruhan folded his arms, clearly amused now.
"I do wonder how Leo would react to this."
Mia's head snapped up.
"Don't you dare."
He smiled.
"Relax."
He placed a hand over his chest dramatically.
"Your secret is safe with me."
A pause.
"…Probably."
Mia looked at him in outrage.
"Ebruhan!"
He laughed quietly and stepped backward toward the barn door.
"Well then."
He gave her a small bow.
"Take care, Lady Dark Flame."
Before she could throw a shoe at him—
his body shimmered.
Light bent around him.
And within seconds—
he vanished completely beneath his invisibility spell.
Only his voice remained for a moment.
"Try not to fight ancient dragons while hungover."
"GET OUT—!"
His laughter faded into the night.
Silence returned.
Mia sat there for a few seconds, staring at the empty doorway.
Then groaned dramatically and slid sideways onto the hay.
"…I hate him...but not very"
She sighed.
Then, with a shimmer of dark mana, her human body shifted.
Bones stretched. Limbs changed. Black scales returned.
Within moments, Mia was back in her dragon form, curled comfortably into the soft hay.
The barn felt warm. Quiet.
Her body was tired.
But her chest felt strangely lighter.
After everything—
the old memories, the regrets, the laughter, the embarrassment of losing a battle against two cups of rice wine—
something inside her felt calmer.
She rested her head against the hay and let her eyes close.
Outside, the moon hung quietly above the estate.
And for the first time in a long while—
Mia slept peacefully.