I chose to be a Suou. By the time I finished all my duties and returned to Japan, my wife had already passed away.
“Mom…!!”
“Sniffle… Hic!”
It seemed I truly did not have a heart. Even as I stood before my wife’s still body in the hospital room, even as our son and daughter wept beside her, not a single tear ran down my cheeks. I simply did what I had to do as the head of the Suou family.
What I did feel was an inexpressible sense of loss, as though the fragile sprout of a heart that had just begun to grow inside me had been torn out at the root. That sense of emptiness became irrevocable when our son died in an accident not long after. From that moment on, I buried myself in the responsibilities of the Suou name, clinging to them as my only refuge from grief I could neither understand nor face.
“Dad! I’m going to become a diplomat! I’m going to become a diplomat and take over for the Suou family in my brother’s place!”
My daughter started making such claims after my son’s death, but I had made a promise with my wife.
“That’s not what I need from you.”
Furthermore, as far as I could see, my daughter lacked the aptitude to become a diplomat. Therefore, asking her to shoulder the same role as her late brother would have been cruel, especially when she had even less natural ability than I did.
“Don’t even think about trying to replace Naotaka. All I need from you is to find a husband worthy of the Suou family name. That’s it. You’re free to do whatever you want as long as you do that.”
Nevertheless, my daughter gave up her dream of becoming a pianist and set her sights on becoming a diplomat instead. If that was her choice, then so be it. I decided to let her pursue her new dream until she was satisfied, while I dedicated myself to my work abroad.
However, one year later, when I returned to celebrate my daughter’s birthday as I had promised my wife, I was aghast at what I saw. Her cheeks were hollow, and her eyes were lifeless. The daughter standing before me was nothing like the girl I remembered.
What had I been doing all this time? I had devoted myself entirely to my work as the head of the Suou family and as a diplomat. Even when I heard that she had been wandering around late at night, I left everything to the family doctor and never once checked on her myself, despite there being no one left to offer her the love and warmth of a family.
“…You seem to have lost a lot of weight.”
“No, I’m fine.”
“…All right.”
Yet, even then, I still didn’t know how to speak to my daughter. The only way I knew how to show kindness was the way my wife had taught me. I tried to be there for her, increasing the time I spent in Japan, but that was all I could manage. I felt that any words I could offer would only push her further into a corner, and so in the end, I didn’t say anything at all.
“Kimishima, I am considering hiring someone to take care of Yumi. Do you know of anyone like that?”
“Like a maid of some sort? Hmm…”
“How well they perform at work isn’t the priority. What I need is someone who can show her love and affection. Do you know of anyone who can do that?”
“In that case, if I may be so bold, how about my wife? She is already acquainted with your daughter, and with our son recently moving into a dormitory, as of late she seems to have a bit more time on her hands.”
“Really? Then could you ask her for me?”
“Of course.”
All I could do was depend on those more capable than myself, just as I had relied on my wife to raise our children. The days went by and I immersed myself in my work once more…until one day, my daughter brought a boy home.
“It is a pleasure to finally meet you. I’m Kyoutarou Kuze. Yumi and I have been dating for the past month.”
I could immediately tell that he was a boy brimming with talent and—more importantly—that he was someone who, like my wife and son, could offer my daughter the warmth and affection I never could.
“Yumi, I want to speak with him alone. Please give us a moment.”
Once we were alone in the study, the boy nervously squeaked:
“Yumi told me about the Suou family and explained the situation! And I am prepared to become a diplomat in order to earn your blessing to be with her!”
He seemed to be jumping to conclusions, so I told him:
“Don’t worry about that.”
“Uh…?!”
“…What I want from you…is to show Yumi kindness and affection.” I lowered my head. “I beg of you.”
“Wh-what?! Please raise your head!” the boy said, panicking. Then he smiled and declared, “I am still going to become a diplomat, because I want to become the man that Yumi deserves.”
The boy ended up becoming a diplomat as promised and grew into a strong, respectable young man. He became my son-in-law and gave me two grandchildren with my daughter. Their children, too, were gifted, showing signs of both talent and the same warmth and kindness that had defined my wife and son.
“…”
The Suou family, once known for its cold-blooded nature, was slowly changing, transformed by my wife and the children she raised. I alone remained unchanged. I’d had a heart of stone from the moment I chose to be a Suou over being a husband. Perhaps it was far too late to change even now, even if given a real heart.
If I hadn’t been a Suou, I would have been there when my wife died. If I hadn’t been a diplomat, my son wouldn’t have lost his life. And yet, knowing all this, I chose to remain both a Suou and a diplomat. How could I possibly become a loving father to my daughter or a devoted grandfather to my grandchildren now? If I were truly capable of that, then why couldn’t I have been a husband who comforted his wife or a father who mourned his son when it mattered most?
I will live my life until the end as a Suou…and die as one.
I had no other choice. Therefore, even when my grandchild tried to leave, just like my younger brother once did, I responded not as a parent or a grandfather, but as the head of the Suou family.
“That’s not the only reason though, right? Deep down inside, you allowed Masachika to leave…because you wanted him to forget about the Suou name. You wanted him to be truly free. Am I wrong?”
My kind son-in-law offered those gracious words, but he was overestimating me. I merely did what was right as the head of the Suou family. Nothing more. There was no kindness or affection in my actions. No matter what I did, I was a Suou… A foolish father and a terrible grandfather.
✦ ✦ ✦
In a cemetery crowded with countless memorials, Gensei stood in a secluded corner. Before him was a gravestone—neither imposing nor ornate, but simple and unremarkable like countless others. However, this was not the Suou family’s ancestral grave where generations of Suou members slept. It was the humble resting place of his wife and son.
“Masachika—your grandson…and your nephew—came home for the first time in ages…and he brought a young lady with him as well from, of all families, the Kujou family.”
He spoke with the same detached expression and indifferent tone.
“I heard the youngest daughter of the main family practically ran away from home…and now, it seems that this young girl from that very family is classmates with our grandson. She must take after her grandmother. She’s fiercely determined and ambitiously driven.”
He suddenly relaxed his expression slightly, a faint smile on his lips.
“I don’t know if it’s because he was influenced by her, but Masachika confronted me head-on, declaring that this was war…and for some reason, it reminded me of Yumi back when she brought Kyoutarou home,” he noted with a hint of amusement. Gensei then let his smile fade as he gazed blankly into the distance and whispered, “You were right.”
His words were swept away with the breeze, and when the time was right, he turned on his heel.
“I’ll come back soon,” Gensei muttered over his shoulder. The gravestone behind him watched quietly as he left, and in its shadow, a lone pink orchid swayed gently in the breeze.