After-Story Chapter 12: Yuriga’s Souvenir

About a year had passed since the world was reorganized. This day, while I was buried in paperwork in the state office, Yuriga came to visit. Though it was deep autumn, she looked more tanned than when I had seen her “about a week ago.”

“Hey. Welcome back.” I set aside my work to greet her.

“Da-da!”

The one-year-old infant she held in her arms stretched his hands out toward me. The child, who had navy-blue hair like Yuriga and big, round eyes, looked at me with an angelic innocence… and indeed, the child had tiny wings growing on his back. These were the wings characteristic of the Celestial Race, like Yuriga, but in infancy, they were so small they looked like little potstickers attached to his back (which also made them adorable).

Incidentally, those small wings, covered only in downy hair, fit under his clothes without needing to be exposed. That’s why the custom-made shirt I fashioned for him has a shape like a mitten sewn onto the back part. I walked over to the two of them and took the child from Yuriga’s arms.

“Da-da! Kya-kya!”

The child kicked his legs excitedly. The gentle drumming was a sign that he was in a good mood.

“Thank goodness. It looks like he hasn’t forgotten my face.”

“It’s only been about a week, hasn’t it? Don’t be so dramatic.” Yuriga sounded exasperated, but I shook my head.

“No, really, children this age don’t seem to remember their fathers very well. The other kids have also burst into full-blown tears, acting like, ‘Who is this person?’ when I just got a haircut. …It’s honestly heartbreaking. And they never do that with Liscia and the others.”

“Ah, so you were genuinely shocked.”

“That’s why I worry that he’ll forget me. Especially since this child is…” I stopped myself, realizing that what I was about to say shouldn’t be spoken, even in front of a toddler who couldn’t understand the words.

Yuriga, who understood what I was about to say, smiled as if deliberately overlooking the slip. “Come here, Suiga.”

“Ma-ma!”

She took Suiga back and held him. Suiga, the orphaned child of Yuriga’s brother Fuuga Haan and Mutsumi-dono, Ichika’s sister, is currently being raised as my and Yuriga’s child. Although his background is known within the castle, and he is destined to take the throne of the Great Tiger Kingdom in the future, his position is technically that of an adopted child… well, he was entrusted to us as Fuuga’s last wish, so we are raising him just like our other children.

In our family, we don’t really concern ourselves with which wife bore which child anyway. We encourage all the children to call every wife “Mama,” and Liscia, the others, and I take turns playing the role of Papa and Mama to look after them. …Even if the day comes when Suiga understands his birth and struggles with it, we plan to support him together as our son.

“Oh, that’s right.” Yuriga shifted Suiga’s position so she could hold him with one hand, then rummaged inside the plain cloth bag hanging on her shoulder. “This is a souvenir from ‘that person.’ He said it was another toy for Suiga.”

“…Another one of these.”

What I received from Yuriga was a sculpture of a Wyvern carved from a hard material. It was about the size of a kokeshi doll but was surprisingly heavy. It was skillfully made; rather than a wooden bear carving, it was closer to a die-cast monster figurine.

“So? What’s the material this time?”

“He said it was the femur of a Northern Hemisphere Wyvern.”

“He made a Wyvern doll out of a Wyvern bone?! And don’t give things like that to a child!”

“We said the same thing, you know. …Though he probably won’t listen.”

I really am at a loss with that guy. I can clearly picture the wry expression of the person who must have been standing next to him when he handed this to Yuriga. I understand the sentiment… but please, at least make it something suitable for a child to hold.

“When we meet in Mao City next time, please tell him to at least round off the edges. And tell him to use the lightest material possible. Say that if Suiga plays with something this spiky, our precious Suiga might get hurt.”

“Ah, sure. I’ll try to tell him.”

This clearly looks like a toy meant for ages 8 and up, or perhaps even older. Even the Jumpra (Jangar the Orbital Dragoon plastic models) from my time had safety flags on the forehead antenna to prevent them from stabbing.

“I wish he would just make a simple cloth or cotton doll.”

“Hmm… Maybe those kinds of things are hard to come by up there? Besides, Souma-san is probably better at making dolls, so maybe he’s trying to compete with a sculpture.”

“It’s true that I’m bad at sculpting, but…” I sighed in frustration, and Yuriga giggled.

“Well then, I’m off. Oh, and since Suiga might hurt himself, you hold onto that sculpture here.”

“Again?! The number of sculptures is increasing every time you go to Mao City!”

In the corner of this state office, there is a simple cot. On the shelf next to it, there is a row of monster sculptures that Yuriga receives as “souvenirs” every time she takes Suiga out. That one corner looks like the shelf in a monster fanatic’s house. It’s getting really depressing when a new steward comes to clean, sees that shelf, looks startled, and then gives me a look that says, “What, does the King have this hobby?”

“Since it’s a souvenir you got, store it in your room, Yuriga.”

“No way. It’s creepy.”

“Hey!”

“Please, my darling.” Holding Suiga, Yuriga gave me a decisive wink.

She’s usually quite aloof, but only in moments like this does she pull out the “I’m your cute wife” appeal. It makes it hard for me to complain… where does she pick up these tricks? …From the other wives.

“Well then, see you tonight. Bye, Souma-san.”

Yuriga waved, and Suiga also waved, saying, “Ba-ba!” (He meant “bye-bye”).

After seeing the two off, I stared at the Wyvern sculpture left in my hand.

(The souvenirs from ‘that guy’ will likely keep piling up, so I should probably make a storage space for them soon. And when Suiga gets older, I’ll send the whole lot to the Great Tiger Kingdom.)

Sighing at that thought, I put the Wyvern sculpture away on the shelf.