“I’m home, Souma.”
It was about a year after the continent’s reorganization. I was in the governmental affairs office, buried in paperwork as usual, when Yuriga walked in. Even though autumn was well underway, she was noticeably more tanned than she’d been just a week ago when I last saw her.
“Hey. Welcome home,” I said, glancing up from my desk.
“Dada!” The infant in her arms, about a year old, reached out towards me.
He had Yuriga’s same deep-blue hair, and a face full of angelic innocence. On his back sprouted a pair of tiny wings, the defining trait of the celestial race to which Yuriga belonged. But at his age, they looked less like wings and more like little dumplings stuck to his back. Since his wings were still covered only in down, they could be tucked neatly under his clothes. That was why the baby clothes I’d made for him had small wing-pouches sewn into the back.
I walked over, taking the boy from Yuriga into my arms.
“Dada! Squee!”
His little legs kicked happily. Kicking me like this was a sign he was in a good mood.
“Oh, good. Looks like he hasn’t forgotten my face.”
“We were only gone a week, you know,” Yuriga said, sounding exasperated. “You’re blowing things out of proportion.”
“Nah,” I said, shaking my head. “At this age, kids don’t always remember their fathers’ faces. Back when the other kids were this little, if I so much as got a haircut, they’d stare at me like, Who is this guy? and then burst into tears. That was a real gut punch. They never did that with Liscia and the others.”
“Oh? So it did bother you, huh?”
“That’s why I was worried he might’ve forgotten me. Especially since this kid’s...”
I cut myself off, realizing I shouldn’t say it aloud, even if he was too young to understand. Yuriga noticed, but only smiled and let it pass.
“Come here, Suiga.”
“Mama!”
Yuriga took Suiga back into her arms.
The two of us were raising the orphaned child of Yuriga’s brother, Fuuga Haan, and Ichiha’s elder sister, Mutsumi, as if he were our own. Everyone in the castle knew his parentage, and he was destined to sit on the throne of the Great Tiger Kingdom someday. So while he was more like an adopted son in name, for me...he was Fuuga’s last request. I only hoped he would grow up just as healthy as any of our other children.
In our family, we never cared much about which queen had given birth to which child anyway. The kids all called the queens “Mama So-and-so,” and whoever was free at the time would look after them. One day, Suiga would learn the truth of his origins, and it might weigh on him. But when that day came, our whole family would be there to support him.
“Oh, right.” Yuriga shifted Suiga onto one arm, then reached into the plain cloth bag slung over her shoulder and pulled something out. “This is a souvenir from you-know-who. A toy for Suiga.”
“Another one of these...”
She handed me the item. It was a wyvern statue, carved from some hard material. About the size of a kokeshi doll, but much heavier than it looked. The craftsmanship was surprisingly fine; it was less like a wooden bear carving, more like a die-cast figure of a kaiju.
“So? What’s this one made of?”
“The femur of a northern hemisphere wyvern.”
“He carved a wyvern statue out of a wyvern’s bone?! Come on, don’t give something like that to a kid!”
“That’s what we told him... Not that he ever listens.”
Man, that guy really was a character. I could just picture the person at his side giving him a wry smile as he handed this to Yuriga. I appreciate the sentiment, sure...but at least choose something suitable for a kid.
“Next time you meet him in Mao City, tell him to at least round off the horns. And make it out of something lighter. If we let Suiga play with something this pointy, he’ll hurt himself, y’know.”
“Uh, sure. I’ll at least try to tell him that.”
This was clearly a toy for kids eight and up, maybe older. Even with Janpla (plastic models based on Mobile Dragoon Jangar), they stuck a flag on the forehead antenna so it wouldn’t stab anyone.
“Please, just tell him to send cloth and cotton dolls like a normal person.”
“Hmm... Those might actually be harder to come by over there. Besides, you’re better at making dolls, Souma, so maybe he’s making sculptures to compete with you.”
“Okay, sure, I’m no sculptor...but still.”
I let out an exasperated sigh, and Yuriga chuckled.
“Anyway, I should get going. Oh, and since it wouldn’t be good if Suiga got hurt, you hang on to that sculpture here.”
“Again?! Every time you go to Mao City, I end up with another one!”
A shelf by the simple bed in the corner of my office was already lined with the monster sculptures Yuriga had brought back from her trips with Suiga. The corner was starting to look like something out of a kaiju movie fanatic’s den. Every time a new maid noticed it, she gave me a look that said, Wait, the king’s into this? It was getting hard to take.
“You’re the one who brought it back, Yuriga. Keep it in your room.”
“Ew, no. It’s creepy.”
“Hey...”
“Please, darling,” Yuriga said in a singsong voice, adding a wink.
Normally she was sharp-tongued, but at times like this she’d play the cute wife. I always had a hard time refusing when she acted like that. Still...where did she pick this up? From the other wives, maybe?
“Well, anyway, I’ll see you tonight. Later, Souma.”
Yuriga waved. Suiga waved too, chirping, “Buh-buh.”
I think he meant bye-bye.
After watching them leave, I looked down at the wyvern sculpture still in my hands.
If “you-know-who” keeps sending me these souvenirs, I’d better set up a place to store them sooner rather than later. Then, once Suiga’s old enough, I can just ship the whole collection off to the Great Tiger Kingdom.
With another sigh, I placed the wyvern sculpture on the shelf beside the others.