Darian's Frustration
Darian was in a good mood.
More precisely, he had been in a good mood.
Ever since the kids left for the Academy, he had thrown himself into training. He knew full well there was nothing for him to do around the estate—the day he sat in on one of Estel and Freya's meetings, he had drunk five cups of that godawful tea without managing a single word—and the more he trained, the more he liked how his strength was shifting. Not just practical power, but the kind of hero strength you'd see in a movie.
Still, every night before bed, Darian found himself replaying those days in the conference room. The moment he pictured Freya burying her face against his lower half, cheeks flushed, looking up at him with his cock in her mouth, he would bolt upright and launch into a round of midnight calisthenics.
If it were up to him, he would have stormed into Freya's office right then and picked up where they left off. But things never went his way.
Freya was way too busy.
He had never once seen her not working. Day after day she was buried in meetings and paperwork, locked in her office from morning to night, so the time they actually saw each other's faces was vanishingly small. On top of that, they slept in separate rooms. The only way Darian could work off this aching frustration was to throw himself even harder into training.
Then, one day, word arrived from the Academy.
His son and daughter had caused an incident. More accurately—they hadn't caused it so much as cleaned it up, with what amounted to a heroic performance. And they would be coming home for a while.
When he heard they were commissioning weapons, Darian had immediately asked them to make him one too, pressing the request with all the earnestness he could muster. Rosaria and her party had returned from the dwarven kingdom and handed over the promised axe. The grip was rough yet settled perfectly into his palm; the head was heavy and sharp without being too large or too small. It fit Darian's hand as if it had been made for him, and he was thoroughly pleased.
And with the kids home, Freya would surely set work aside and spend some time with the family—or so Darian thought. He wanted to use the window while the children were at the estate to finally talk with Freya.
That happy little plan fell apart almost immediately.
"Your dad keeps avoiding me. What's that about?"
"W-why—*huff*—are you asking me that—*huff*—right now—*huff*—?!"
It was the third morning since Rosaria's party had returned from the dwarven kingdom. Rosaria, who had been dragged into what was now Darian's daily morning workout, gasped out a reply that was equal parts exhaustion and disbelief.
"What, this is hard for you?"
"I—I mean… *whew.* Mom, your son is kind of a big deal at the Academy, you know?"
"And?"
"And if that son says he's about to die from this, has it never occurred to you that maybe the mom is the one who's not normal?!"
"You're just weak."
"What kind of weakling sprints at full speed for two hours?! Aargh, I'm losing my mind!"
Since arriving in this world, Rosaria had contracted with spirits and believed she had gotten reasonably strong. That had been a miscalculation. This morning's workout with Darian had made it painfully clear she was still just an ordinary person.
Not that she didn't have grounds for feeling wronged. Rosaria was already strong enough to thrash her classmates and even most of the upperclassmen. Purely in terms of stamina and combat skill, she was Academy top-tier material—an outlier even among the exceptional. But to Darian, she still looked soft, which left Rosaria ready to climb the walls.
"Mom, are we done?"
"Yeah… if I do any more, I'm dead."
"Hic?! Mom's dying?! Don't die!!"
A little flame pressed urgently against Rosaria's cheek as she sprawled on the training-ground dirt, covered in dust, and wailed.
"And where did you pick that one up?"
"It just kind of… happened."
At a glance, the fire spirit looked like a burning red rose. She had latched onto Rosaria at the moment they left the fortress and somehow followed her all the way to the estate.
"Mom's not dying?"
"I'm fine, Lit."
Her name was Lit—the last two syllables of Ifrit, the name that came to mind whenever anyone thought of a fire spirit. Unlike the forever carefree and free-spirited Ariel, Lit stuck to Rosaria's side at all times and poured out every emotion without filter. A personality as fiery as her element.
"Mom, I'm hungry."
"……"
Where Lit clung to Rosaria demanding affection, Ariel had appeared out of nowhere and was only looking after her own empty stomach. Rosaria's expression grew complicated as she compared the two.
"Anyway. I want to talk to your dad for once."
"Can't you just go talk to Dad yourself?"
"She's always screaming about how busy she is."
"What about mealtimes?"
"Even meals she just grabs a sandwich or something. There's never a gap to get a word in."
"But… isn't it weird that you're even worrying about this?"
"…About what?"
"I mean, normally you don't care about stuff like this. You just barge right in. It's like you've gotten… careful, somehow."
Rosaria tilted her head as Darian kept lamenting his situation. She had watched him live by the motto of "charge in first, think later" for twenty-four years. She knew that better than anyone. But the Darian in front of her was strangely, excessively cautious.
"Well… I mean… it's just… how do I put this…"
"Your dad is… a woman now. And I'm a man, right?"
"Yeah?"
"So… it's hard to come on strong. I mean—not that I'm like that or anything!"
Darian blanked for a second at Rosaria's observation, then flailed his hands and scrambled for an excuse. The words didn't line up. He just stammered.
"Mom."
"What. What is it."
"Is this your first crush or something?"
"……Ha!? It is not! Come on! Hey! I've been with your dad for—how many years?! Seriously!"
He looked so exactly like a teenager in the middle of a crush that Rosaria shot the line at him in pure disbelief. Color flooded Darian's face. He was visibly flustered.
"You think I can't do it? I can do it right now, you little—!"
"Huh? Do what where?"
"Shut up!"
Darian shot to his feet and stomped out of the training ground, boots thudding hard against the packed earth.
"……"
"Mom. Food, please."
"Mom, don't diiie…"
"How did Mom and Dad even raise us…"
Rosaria stared blankly after him, feeling the two spirits pressed to either cheek, and muttered under her breath.
Being a parent seemed like hard work.
"Unbelievable… Who do I think I am? The Red Fist of Seonghwa-dong! And that little—what, a first crush? I'm not some kid…"
At that same moment, Darian was stomping down the manor corridor with his face twisted into a scowl, still reeling from Rosaria's one-liner.
A first crush.
He and Freya had built a family decades ago. They had a sturdy son and an adorable daughter. He refused to admit that, at this stage of life, he was feeling something as embarrassing as that.
But.
"…I'm losing it. Why does she have to be that pretty…"
Ever since he had entered this body, reaching out to Freya had felt strangely difficult. In the old days they would have shared a bed without a second thought, and if things heated up he would have just talked her into it. But his husband now looked like a delicate piece of glasswork that might shatter at the lightest touch.
He had never once thought of himself as someone who liked women. The single fact that the person inside Freya was his husband had been enough to make him fall for a woman. And after the last time had cut off so awkwardly, he felt rushed and yet couldn't bring himself to close the distance. The gap between them only seemed to grow, and Darian had been getting anxious.
"…Fine. Since when do I overthink things? Charge in first and figure it out later!"
Rosaria's straight pitch had snapped him back into form. With the simple resolve to just go for it, Darian strode straight toward Freya's office.
He reached the door and was about to open it when—
"…so this is the—"
"Huh. Is someone in there?"
Voices drifted through the crack of the not-quite-closed door. From the sound of them, it was Felix—his daughter who had become his son—talking with Freya.
"So this medicine… is it the right one?"
"Yes."
"…Medicine?"
Ordinarily Darian would have walked straight in. But a word he couldn't just let slide had slipped into the conversation, and the hand he had reached toward the doorknob stopped.
"It seems the dwarves have branched into pharmaceuticals as well. It wasn't particularly difficult to obtain."
"If it's dwarven…"
"Ah. You don't need to worry about whether it works on humans. They said there wouldn't be a problem."
"I see. I did wonder, just in case…"
Dwarven medicine? Doesn't work on humans? What are they talking about?
His body, which had frozen for a moment, now leaned in of its own accord, ears pricked to catch every word. From the shape of the conversation, Freya had asked Felix to acquire some kind of "medicine," and Felix had brought it back and was handing it over.
"But you're going to keep this a secret from Mom?"
"…From me?"
The sudden appearance of his own name in the topic made Darian's nerves snap even tighter.
"…Ah. It's not certain yet. This is just a precaution. Just in case."
"Still, I don't know that there's any real need to hide it…"
"…It's fine, my daughter. You don't need to worry yourself over it."
"…You do realize that having your daughter fetch something like this in the first place is exactly what makes people worry, right? Dad."
"…How embarrassing. Still, I couldn't quite bring myself to ask my son."
"………"
Why keep it secret from me? Why? What even is that thing?
The hushed exchange he had stumbled into left Darian curious about the unknown medicine—but something else bothered him more.
"…This is pissing me off."
They were husband and wife. Couples didn't have to share every private matter, but lately Freya had been hiding more and more from him.
Because, unlike in the modern world, he was useless here?
Because she had a wife she couldn't lean on?
Ever since they had fallen into this remote fantasy world, the guilt of not being able to support her in a single meaningful way, and the betrayal and anger of Freya pulling away because of it, had been boiling up inside him.
Bang—
"Huh? Mom?"
"Ah—darling?! W-what brings you here so suddenly…"
He finally snapped, shoved the office door open, and strode in. Both of them jumped, startled faces filling his vision.
"What is that."
"Th-that…? What do you mean, exactly?"
"That medicine. The one you said you had to keep secret from me. What is it. Why does it have to be a secret from me?"
"Th-that's… it's really nothing! I-I just… had a bit of a cold coming on…"
"Don't lie to me. If it were that, why would you need to hide it from me?"
Darian had stormed in and gone straight for the medicine. Freya scrambled to deflect. The sight of it only made him angrier.
"…Do you not trust me?"
"…Pardon?"
"Fine! Honestly, since I got here I haven't been much help at all! I don't even know what I'm supposed to do. You know more than I do, so yeah—I just let go of the reins!"
"But still! Still… we're married. Why are you hiding things from me that you're willing to tell our kids?"
"D-darling…!"
"Do you hate me now? Because I'm a man? Because I'm useless? If that's it, just say so!"
"………"
All the frustration and hurt that had been stacking up finally overflowed. Darian scowled and raised his voice. Freya lowered her head without a word.
"It isn't… it isn't like that…"
"Then what is it?!"
Freya began to speak, her voice thin and drained.
"…I can't say."
"Why can't you say it?!"
"Th-that's… well…"
She managed to lift her head, rubbing her forearms, lips working soundlessly. She kept hesitating, as if the words simply would not come out of her own mouth.
Then—
"Ugh… I can't watch this anymore."
"Huh?"
"Daughter!?"
Felix, who had been silently observing the whole scene, let out a sigh and opened his mouth.
"Dad. If you're not going to tell him, I will."
"W-wait! Fine! Fine, I'll do it! I'll say it!"
The moment Felix declared he would simply reveal what the medicine was himself, Freya flailed her arms in a panic to stop him.
"…Okay, what on earth is that thing that you're reacting like this?"
By now, the emotions piled up toward Freya were one thing—but Darian was genuinely, desperately curious about the identity of that medicine.
"I-it's… well…"
"What is it?"
"…Medicine."
"What kind of medicine?"
"B-birth… control… pills…"
"…………What?"
Freya finally forced her head up, face dyed a deep red, and confessed the truth of the medicine herself.
"B-birth… control pills?"
"…G-going forward… there might… be more. New ones. So… as a precaution… for that…"
"Ah."
The answer was so completely out of left field that Darian could only echo it with a vacant look on his face. Freya kept her head bowed, face still burning, and stammered out the reason. And just like that, the puzzle pieces in Darian's head clicked into place.
Freya hadn't been pushing him away.
If anything, she had been hoping for the next step too—and preparing for it in her own way.
"…Alright. I'm leaving now."
Felix, watching the atmosphere shift into something distinctly dangerous, fled the office on the spot.
"I-I absolutely was not! I-I wasn't thinking I actually wanted to… ah… I mean… you're a man now, so… I thought it might be… hard for you…"
Freya scrambled to explain herself, but no matter how you looked at it, it was as good as an admission that she had been looking forward to it herself.
"Ah, fuck. I'm losing my mind."
That look.
That look was so unbearably lovely, so impossibly cute, that Darian's heart hammered, cold sweat broke out, and he could feel the blood pumping hard and gathering low in his body.
Thud—thud—
"Uh… darling?"
Without a word, Darian walked straight toward her. Freya flinched and tried to back away, but the desk was right behind her. She had nowhere left to go, and found herself face-to-face with him at point-blank range.
She looked up at him, trembling—but he could tell at once it wasn't fear. It was tension. Anticipation.
"I can't hold back anymore."
In that moment, Darian's switch flipped all the way on.