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A child’s first New Year is very important.
That’s why this year, I’m going to teach my kids how we used to spend New Year back home.
“Papa, this?”
Shinri isn’t a full year old yet, but he can already say simple sentences. I really have to admire mazoku child intelligence. It’s between that and succumbing to that inner urge to stand on top of the tower and yell to the whole country, “My kid is a genius~~”
Whew, the power of Daddy Mode* is scary.
“Ah, I’ve seen this before.” Wolf peers into the large wooden bucket. That’s right, he followed me back once during New Year, and got that fortune. “This is that ma-cha, right?”
“Tea?” Greta crouches down next to the bucket, prodding at the bouncy white pile inside. “It feels like a slime monster…”
“Not macha, it’s mochi. And the slime is made from glutinous rice flour, sugar, milk, rice and starch.” I read the ingredients off the little list Mom wrote for me. There’s no way I could remember all this with my brain, but I had faith in my children. See? Greta’s already copying down the instructions.
“When you say milk, do you mean milk from the cows with three horns, five stomachs or two heads? Or maybe the goats with—”
“I-It’s up to your own tastes? Anyway, this is the fun bit. See—this--!” I lift the heavy pestle. Whoa, as expected from Günter, when I gave him the designs for equipment he really didn’t hold back with the materials. I can tell from the weight of this thing that it’s made from solid hard wood.
“It sure feels good to hold… Let’s see how it swings—Whoa!”
“Yuuri! You almost took my head off!”
“Shh, shh, don’t say unlucky things on New Year’s Eve.” I laugh sheepishly.
Shinri looks at the kine pestle curiously, tugging at his sister’s sleeve and pointing. “Bat?”
“N-No, it’s not a baseball bat.” Uh-oh, I mustn’t give the kids the wrong idea, this is dangerous in the wrong hands. “Wolf, help me out?”
Wolfram shrugs, and crouches down into position next to the pail.
“Okay, kids. Papa swings—like this—” It’s a different swing than I’m used to, but I still feel the satisfying ‘thunk’ of the wood hitting the flour. “And then your Ma—Daddy adds the water, to soften the mixture up a bit.”
“Don’t make it sound so simple!” Wolf scolds. “There’s a technique in adding the water, you must fold it gently, like folding a beloved baby into its blankets, like this—”
Wolf, what did my mother teach you?
Soon we established a good rhythm, between my swings and his folding. It was hard work, and I was sweating before I knew it, but somehow it was satisfying, working with my husband like that and our kids watching. Once we slowed down for a break, Wolf made a big fuss about how sweaty I’ve gotten, and how the sweat might get into the mixture. He scolded me a lot, but even while he scolded me he took out his handkerchief to wipe my forehead.
I couldn’t help but pull him close and peck him on the cheek for that.
“Eeww!” Shinri giggles hysterically. Greta has reached the age where she just shakes her head, sighs and covers her baby brother’s eyes.
“Ahem!” I clear my throat and wait for the blush in my cheeks to recede. “Alright, anyone else want to try?”
This time Greta raises her hand just as quickly as her little brother.
“I can pound, and Shinri can—”
“No way, that’s too dangerous,” Wolf cuts in before I can say anything. Well, that’s what I wanted to say anyway. “I’ll hold the hammer and you two can take turns with the water. Don’t worry, Daddy won’t hurt your hands.”
You spoke so fast because you wanted to try out the pestle, didn’t you!?
But when Wolf lifted the heavy kine with only one hand like it was his sword, even I had to bow my head in shame.
“Okay, so now how do we eat these things?”
After the steam cleared, the four of us are left staring at the huge tray of mochi balls.
“Hmm, we can eat them like this, or make them into soup, or… I know!”
I quickly ask for a handful of skewers from the kitchen maids. “We put three—no, four of them on each stick, and eat them like that!”
“Why four?” Greta asks, cocking her head.
“Hehe, one for each member of the family.” I know I must have a silly smile on my face right now, but I can’t help it. My little family has grown. It’s been a good year.
“One… for family…” Shinri takes his skewer from me and stares at the steaming dango. And before any of us can stop him, he’s grabbed another mochi and clumsily stuck it onto the skewer.
“Shin--!” Wolf grabs his hand, but when he sees those bright red fingers, he panics a little and looks to me, completely at a loss.
Ah, I’ve never seen him this scared before. Is this what they mean by ‘concern messes the heart’?
“Shinri, come here.” Compared to Wolf, I’m surprisingly a lot calmer. “Does it hurt?”
We’re all even more surprised when he shakes his head. And true enough, by the time I take his hand carefully in mine, the red has receded. As for the boils and blisters I expected, there’s not even a hint.
I breathe a sigh of relief. Though I know that between baseball and sword practice, a boy’s hands will most likely end up as calloused as mine, I would still rather he keep his smooth baby’s hands for a while longer.
“But still, that was dangerous! What were you thinking!?”
Wolf looks like he was going to say something, but decides against it. After all, I rarely scold my children.
“Five.” He holds up his skewer, the last dango clumsily stuffed on top. “For Godfather.”
“Smart kid.”
Josak leans against the wall, hidden in the shadows of the corner from where the royal family is having their little activity. “Reckon he knows you’re here? Even his parents didn’t notice.”
“Well, we knew from the start that the child is not normal.” The young Sage’s eyes are, once again, hidden by the light reflected off his glasses. But there is no mistaking that smile. “By the way, shouldn’t you be with your family too?”
Josak shrugged. “Eh, the Captain hasn’t seen Julie in a while, so I thought I might as well let them have some time alone.”
“…Gurrier, he saw her yesterday. He’s seen her every day since you guys got back from Conanshia, less than a month ago.”
“Tell that to him. If it were up to him, he wouldn’t be apart from her for a minute.”
Murata’s smile widens again. The spy here looks and sounds nonchalant, but even if he isn’t as exaggeratedly attached to his daughter as some mothers are, Murata knows he’ll be the first to get dangerous if anyone actually tried to take Julie away from him.
“Anyway, here. For Julie.”
“What’s this?” Josak doesn’t hesitate to peek inside the pretty envelope. “Money? ‘Eminence, I think my daughter is a little young to be earning a salary.”
“Don’t be silly, that is otoshidama. New Year’s money, for kids.” Technically he should give it to Julie himself, but he got the feeling neither of them would be free for the rest of the day.
“I see.” Josak pockets the money and gets off the wall. “Thank you, on behalf of the little bastard.” It still left Murata somewhat speechless that Josak liked to call that adorable little girl like that. “Have fun with Their Highnesses!”
Nothing escapes that man… Murata pushes his glasses back up his nose and sighs. Any moment now Shibuya will be launching a search party for him, so his son can give him the present. And once they find him, there’s no way Shibuya will let him spend his New Year’s Eve alone. They would probably be trying to stay up tonight, as well. Murata can imagine both the kids and their father struggling to stay awake. Unlike his brother, Shibuya always had healthy sleeping habits.
“All right, let’s go look for your godfather, shall we?”
Murata checks the two more envelopes in his pocket. Well, it’ll be nice to spend a warm New Year’s night for once.
With family.