“I will!” she responded energetically, but everyone knew she was unlikely to do so.
Ko’s daughter was one to never sit still. She swiftly hurried back over to her wet nurse’s children and started frolicking around with them. Jikei affectionately narrowed his eyes as he watched her play. The sea shone brightly in the sunlight, and he could hear the sound of the calm waves over the top of the children’s happy voices. Jikei suddenly found himself having to dry his eyes.
“Did you get some sand in your eyes?” asked Ko, offering him his handkerchief.
Jikei shook his head. “No… When you get older, it just gets harder to hold back the tears.”
Ko said nothing and slipped the handkerchief back inside his breast pocket. He knew that Jikei’s own daughter had suffered a cruel death at a young age as his wife had told him as such.
He placed a hand on Jikei’s back—just like Jikei had once done with him. “Take good care of her while I’m off, Dad,” he said, then started to make his way to the port.
“I just knew this color would suit you better.”
“Anything’s fine by me. Just make it quick,” said Ryo. His wife was helping him get dressed, but he was urging her to hurry up.
She had a tendency to do things at a leisurely pace, which meant that Ryo was often forced to speed her along. The time that Ryo had to leave the port was fast approaching, so seeing her dilly-dally over which color he should wear made him feel uneasy. No matter how much he swore he was indifferent, she would never listen.
In the end, she settled on a light blue robe, a color that Ryo often wore. He was skeptical about whether so much contemplation had really been necessary, but voicing his doubts would only result in his wife countering him with an excuse that he wouldn’t really be able to understand. He decided to keep quiet instead.
“Perhaps a belt made of white fabric would have looked nicer,” she mumbled to herself—but Ryo couldn’t take it a moment longer.
“All right, I’m leaving,” he snapped, turning toward the doorway in a fluster. He couldn’t bear the thought of trying on another garment.
“I’ll come to the port and see you off,” said his wife.
“There’s no need for that,” Ryo asserted. “I’ll just say goodbye now.”
Just as he’d placed his hand on the door, Ryo suddenly looked back over his shoulder.
“Do you have any messages you’d like to pass on to my older brothers?”
“What?” His wife was taken aback. “A message for your brothers? Well, I’d appreciate it if you could thank them for the congratulatory gifts they offered to our youngest child.”
Ryo and his wife had received numerous gifts from his elder brothers when their son and daughter were born.
“That goes without saying,” said Ryo. “Don’t you have anything else you want to say?”
“Umm… Not especially.”
His wife was baffled. Why would she have anything significant to say to her brothers-in-law? Ryo found himself relieved by his wife’s reaction, but soon became annoyed at himself for feeling such a way. He’d only asked her that question so he could feel reassured.
“That’s good, then.”
With that, Ryo left the room. His wife, Kitsu Tojo, was originally supposed to have married Shin—but Ryo had ended up becoming the new head of the Saname clan after Shin declined the opportunity and Ko was adopted into the Yozetsu family.
Ryo couldn’t help but wonder if Shin had spared a thought for Kitsu Tojo’s future when he’d jilted the Saname family, or whether she’d crossed his father’s mind when he’d chosen to die. They probably hadn’t. The two of them were similar in that respect—although Shin would never admit it himself.
When Ryo had ended up as the head of the clan, it was decided she would marry him instead. By the sound of it, the plan had never been to marry Shin specifically—it had been for her to marry the head of the Saname clan.
Ryo didn’t know how Tojo felt about marrying him instead of Shin. In fact, he was too scared to find out, and avoided asking for that very reason.
Tojo had a coy smile and looked just as shy today as she did on the day the pair had gotten married. No matter how much time passed, she’d always retained that same, girlish air.
As Ryo was walking down the road to the port, feeling rather low, his attendant called out to him.
“Sir,” he said. “Your wife is chasing after you.”
Ryo stopped in his tracks and turned around. Tojo ran up to him, looking rattled.
“You forgot something,” she said, huffing and puffing. Her cheeks were flushed, and her forehead was covered in sweat.
“Can’t you at least tell me what it is?” he asked.
“I can’t…”
Tojo passed him the object she’d been clutching tightly in her hand. It was an ivory hanging ornament that was shaped like two birds. She tied it to his belt, then let out a contented sigh.
“Take care of my husband for me, won’t you?” she then said to his attendant. “I’ll see you both when you get back.”
With that, Tojo smiled, bowed, and turned back the way she’d come.
Once they’d started walking again, Ryo noticed that his attendant had a half-smile on his face.
“What’s so funny?” he asked him.
This particular attendant was young, which made him easier to talk to than many of his seniors. That being the case, Ryo always chose him to accompany him on his outings.
“Nothing, really… I was just thinking about how scary your wife is.”
“Scary?” Ryo was shocked. To him, his wife was anything but scary.
“Your intuition might serve you well in most situations, but when it comes to your own wife, you seem to be a bit slow to pick up on things,” said his attendant. “That belt decoration—those two birds—symbolizes that you’re married. It acts as a deterrent.”
“A deterrent? For what?”
“For any women who may try to approach you.”
Ryo stared at his attendant full in the face. “I’m sure you’re just overthinking this,” he then said.