Could a foreigner with a single child adapt well in the capital?
If you were to ask that, my answer would be YES. Surprisingly, it was possible.
We found a home, and we ate better than we ever did in the countryside.
However, adapting *too* well was also a problem.
"Father! Are you going to work again? Please stop. I've told you before, all you need to do is stay home, eat the meals I make, and relax."
I am thirty; Mizukume is ten.
I have been stripped of my status as the head of the household.
"Here. Say 'ah'. Ahhh~."
"...Ah."
"Very good!"
On top of that, my dignity as a father had also vanished.
"The butcher gave me his freshest meat. How is it?"
"It's delicious. Yes."
"That's a relief… Then, please try this fish as well. Here, ahhh~."
If I wanted meat, she would feed me meat; if I wanted rice, she would feed me rice.
As if she could read minds, Mizukume knew exactly what I wanted to eat with an almost supernatural intuition.
Is this how a pig being fattened for slaughter feels?
I finished the meal without once lifting a single spoonful on my own.
The moment I was done, Mizukume immediately cleared the table.
"I'll brew some tea right away. Please wait just a moment, Father."
"Mm. Alright."
There's a saying that it's better to be a hungry Socrates than a satisfied pig, and I truly empathize with it.
Something crucial to my humanity had been lost.
Something… something was missing.
"Here you go. I brewed it with tea leaves said to be from a distant continent. I'm sure you'll like it."
"Mm. It's good."
"Hehe."
It tasted like ordinary green tea, with a faint, lingering bitterness.
"Oh my. Look at the time. I should be heading to work now. I'll give you some allowance, so feel free to use it as you wish, alright?"
"Okay."
"But going to work is absolutely forbidden. I will be furious! Don't you dare!"
"Who would hire a man missing a finger any… Sorry."
The self-deprecating joke failed. A teardrop welled up in Mizukume's wide eyes.
When we first arrived in the capital, I was obsessed with the need to earn money and sought out rough jobs. There's always a demand for manual labor, after all.
However, in the process, I had an accident and my pinky finger was severed.
Losing a pinky was a small price to pay for a slip of the hand while swinging an axe, but not for Mizukume.
Mizukume had been carrying a sense of guilt ever since we left the village, and that accident changed her.
"I'm sorry. Because of me, Father…"
"No, no. It's just a pinky finger, what's the big deal? I'm fine. Who made my daughter cry? What a terrible person!"
"Father, you're not a terrible person! You're a good person!"
"My mistake. I am a good person. Yes."
Who could he be? This good child's father.
He must be an incredibly great man. He must have accomplished deeds so great as to deserve the devotion of such a kind child while lazing about at home.
"...This won't do. I'll stay home with you all day today."
"Is it okay to skip work? I heard the merchant really likes you, saying you're the face of the shop."
"He'll understand. The shop has grown thanks to me, after all. Besides, you are the most important person to me, Father."
Her gaze was a little frightening.
The eyes of a predator, perhaps? At the very least, it wasn't the gaze a child should have.
"As long as I have you, Father, that's all I need."
"...You're the most precious person to me too, Mizukume."
"I love you, Father."
Mizukume snuggled into my embrace.
In her words, "I love you," I felt a cloying, heavy emotion. I closed my eyes, telling myself it was just my imagination.
The girl, Mizukume, had a worry.
"My sweet, precious one."
Her worry was that the man she was caressing simply did not see her as a woman.
"Is my body the problem? I've grown a lot… but maybe it's still not enough."
The married women in the neighborhood would often tease her.
They'd tell her to enter the imperial palace before she got any older. To become a lady-in-waiting instead of seducing some poor, innocent husband.
It was common for pretty, unconnected girls to enter the palace as servants.
It was possible if one were chosen, but no one, including the girl herself, thought she would fail to become a lady-in-waiting.
The girl undoubtedly had a promising future. The signs of a great beauty, visible since she was five, were now on the verge of blooming.
The neighborhood boys couldn't even bring themselves to speak to her anymore. Even the adult men would sometimes steal glances at her with dark, insidious eyes.
"But why won't Father look at me that way…? All the other men do…"
Could there be a problem with his sexual function?
She had heard that men sometimes develop problems if they don't take care of their urges themselves. Could that be it?
"Or perhaps he prefers older women? But he doesn't seem particularly close to any other woman…"
In truth, her father did not get close to people.
Whenever she asked why, he would only reply, "I'm busy," never giving a serious answer.
She surmised that the answer lay in a past she knew nothing about, but she couldn't press any further.
After all, the fear of earning her father's anger by digging into his past was greater than her desire to know it.
Although he had never once been angry with her, she knew very well that he could be terrifying when angered.
"But even an angry Father is handsome. Yes…"
Watching him as he slept, defenseless, she was filled with a strange feeling.
*I want to possess him. I want to turn him inside out.*
But if she did such a thing, he would surely not like it.
He might let it pass with a sigh of resignation, but he would definitely hate it.
That was why the girl cherished these moments of serving him. She loved taking care of his needs, loved being doted on by him.
Time flowed by quickly. Twilight was falling.
"I love you."
The girl pressed her lips to his forehead.
A small sigil glowed on his forehead for a moment, then vanished.
As if nothing had happened, the girl caressed his sleeping face.