184 Let’s Make a Baby

The Magiology Department classroom, found with Eve and Seron.

The children must have all gone to lunch because the classroom was awfully quiet.

Deep inside that classroom.

A solitary girl sat all alone.

Long navy-blue hair, skipping lunch to sleep.

Sharin Sazarris, the top student in the second-year Magiology Department.

It was her.

“Sharin.”

When I spoke that name, Sharin’s shoulders twitched.

And then, smooth as silk, she rose, offering a languid smile.

“Darling.”

Had her sulk finally lifted?

The thought barely formed before Sharin froze.

The smile faltered, and she puffed out her cheeks, like something had just struck her.

Forgotten, only to be remembered now.

I guess she’d just been momentarily pleased to see my face.

“I brought you your favorite cream bread. Let’s eat together.”

“What about them?”

Sharin gestured towards Seron and Eve, who’d followed me.

Seron and Eve exchanged a quick glance.

“We’ll excuse ourselves if it’s inconvenient.”

“I don’t want to.”

As Eve moved to leave, Seron planted a hand defiantly on her hip, puffing out her small chest.

Then Eve slipped her arms around Seron’s waist and lifted her clean off the ground.

“Let’s go.”

“Eek! Put me down!”

Seron was Eve’s problem, so I wouldn’t worry.

While Seron flailed and was dragged away, I settled down across from Sharin.

Her expression was still stubbornly sullen.

But she hadn’t stormed off, at least.

I fumbled with the cream bread, pulling it from its paper bag.

Then, I tore off a piece and held it out to Sharin.

She stared at the cream bread for a long moment before opening her small mouth.

I placed the bread inside, and she munched on it contentedly.

“What about a drink?”

“Give.”

Even when sulking, she still knows what she wants.

Sharin gulped down the drink, after I’d inserted the straw.

Then, she opened her mouth again.

I fed her another piece of bread.

Felt like feeding a baby bird.

Sharin finished the entire cream bread.

A bit of white cream lingered on her lip, and as I reached to wipe it away, she darted out her tongue and licked it off.

“Is it good?”

“Yes, sweet.”

“And your mood?”

“Bad.”

So the sweetness hadn’t quite worked its magic.

“Everyone knew my husband’s real identity except me.”

Sharin tapped my knee with her bare foot, slipperless.

That black stocking was getting to me, she should probably stop.

“My identity wasn’t *that* important, was it?”

“It was, because I was waiting for you to tell me, Husband.”

Sharin and I had promised to reveal my identity after we graduated from the Academy.

Because of that, Sharin hadn’t exactly been *dying* to know.

She knew I’d tell her when the time was right.

But that didn’t mean it was okay that everyone else knew except her.

I felt bad about that part.

Somehow, I just never got around to telling Sharin.

It’s a sorry story, but the opportunity never quite presented itself.

“Husbby, I’m your *fiancée*.”

“That’s right.”

“The others are just friends.”

“Hania is an ex…”

Sharin’s eyebrows twitched, so I decided to cut the jokes there.

“I have to be the *most* precious.”

Sharin actively flaunted her fiancée’s pride.

*Clatter!*

“Hmph, I, well, I wouldn’t agree with that!”

Just then, Seron, having finally shaken off Eve, reappeared.

She was panting, then grinned with a mocking edge.

“Prince Sweet Potato and Magic Fox, you two aren’t actually engaged *now*.”

Oh, come to think of it, that’s true.

Hanon was announced as the one engaged to Sharin.

Not Vikaman, but Hanon.

Sharin and I *weren’t* engaged.

Sharin hadn’t seemed to recall this fact either, her eyes widened.

Seron wore an expression of smug triumph as she approached me.

Then she snatched a red bean bun from the bread bag and stuffed it in her mouth.

That was the one I bought for *myself*.

Seron chewed and swallowed the red bean bun, then crossed her arms and raised her chin.

“Magic Fox, the fiancée act ends now! You and Prince Sweet Potato aren’t together at all!”

“…”

Sharin stared at me blankly.

She looked utterly floored by Seron’s bombshell.

“Oh dear.”

In that moment, Eve returned, crestfallen.

Seron’s resistance must have been fierce, because Eve’s uniform was rumpled.

“Now you know the truth! The charade of being your fiancé is over!”

Despite Seron’s outburst, Sharin remained silent.

Her face was a mask of stunned disbelief.

“Uh, well, I mean…”

Seeing her like that, Seron hesitated, unsure of what more to say.

She, too, seemed at a loss, the words she meant to throw at Sharin dying in her throat.

I quickly grabbed Seron’s wrist.

“Eep!”

Seron yelped, her face flushing crimson.

She still hadn’t fully adjusted to the Vicam’s appearance.

“Seron, step outside for a moment.”

“Awoo, y-yes, sir.”

At my words, Seron, without a single protest, backed away and stumbled out of the classroom.

I turned back to Sharin.

Sharin still wore that dazed expression.

“Sharin, an engagement isn’t that important…”

“…It is important.”

She denied, as I tried to soothe her.

Her lips pressed into a firm line, she looked up at me.

“To me, it’s the most important thing in the world.”

I thought I saw tears glinting in her eyes.

It never occurred to me that Sharin would cry over something like this, I was caught off guard.

It was merely an engagement pushed by the Blue Magic Tower Master to tie me down.

Yet, for Sharin, that engagement was as precious as a treasure.

I had taken Sharin’s feelings too lightly.

I never imagined she held the engagement in such high regard.

Sharin began to shed tears, like tiny beads.

She hadn’t wept even when her mother died, but now she was crying so easily in front of me.

How was one supposed to comfort a crying girl?

I racked my brain, then a realization struck me.

Right now, I couldn’t empathize with Sharin’s sadness.

‘…Is sadness also nearing its end?’

The Curtain’s bandages were stealing love and anger, and now even sorrow.

I was becoming someone who didn’t know how to comfort a girl who liked me, even as she cried.

Sharin’s tear-filled eyes turned to me.

It wouldn’t do for her to see my face like this.

I quickly reached out and pulled Sharin into an embrace.

Sharin buried her face against my chest.

“Sharin, it’s okay. Our relationship isn’t based solely on that promise. I know well that I am your fiancé.”

Sharin’s sobs gradually subsided.

Thankfully, I seemed to have spoken appropriately.

“Does your heart change because I’m not Hanon?”

“…No, the person I love is my husband.”

“Yes, just like you said, our relationship remains the same.”

If our relationship was one that would change merely because my appearance did, it would have ended long ago.

Sharin’s heart held a love that wouldn’t waver with something as simple as my looks.

“So, it’s alright.”

I patted Sharin, who I held in my arms.

Sharin seemed to enjoy my touch, burying her face deeply into my embrace.

As I watched her, the reflection in the window caught my eye.

The face of a man incapable of empathizing with sorrow.

That face certainly held a greater sense of estrangement than even when I suffered facial paralysis.

The loss of three emotions.

I didn’t know what the end of it would be, but the moment I realized I didn’t feel anything wrong with it, I was gripped with fear.

* * *

After that, Sharin calmed down without incident.

Thanks to realizing that she didn’t necessarily need to cling to the engagement.

But for some reason, she showed no intention of leaving my arms.

Rather, she subtly twisted her body, nestling even deeper into my embrace.

The fox keeps going out to hunt.

“Sharin, it seems like you’ve mostly calmed down.”

“Mmh-mm, not yet. Sharin is still crying.”

She pouts and whines, making me want to hug her even more.

But it’s almost time to go back.

Soon, the students from the Department of Magical Engineering will be finishing their meal.

“Sharin.”

When I called her name again, Sharin finally lifted her head.

Her face was still slightly sulky, but she seemed alright.

“Well then, I’ll be going now.”

As I tried to get up from my seat, Sharin tightly grabbed my sleeve.

Turning back to Sharin, she wore a look of deep contemplation.

“Husband, I have an idea.”

It seemed she still had something to say.

When I turned to look at Sharin, wondering what it was, she spoke with a solemn expression.

“We should have a baby.”

What crazy thing is she talking about right now?

“…Sharin, what did you say?”

Thinking I might have misheard, I asked again, and Sharin proudly puffed out her chest.

“We should make a baby.”

So, I didn’t mishear her.

“If you’re not engaged to Husband, then just marry him, you know? Then, you can have a baby.”

“Sharine, you’re still not over it, are you.”

“It’s alright. I would love Husband’s baby.”

Sharine said that, placing both hands carefully on her lower belly.

“I’ll give birth to the prettiest baby in the world.”

Someone, please, stop Sharine.

As she said that, Sharine looked up at me.

The starlight in Sharine’s eyes sparkled beautifully, following the sunlight streaming through the window.

If any love remained in me, I would have been completely enchanted, swept away, and taken Sharine into my arms. That’s how beautifully she smiled.

“Doesn’t Husband want to make a baby with me?”

Don’t say such things with such a lovely, coy face.

I’d never imagined hearing such words in my entire life, so I was flustered.

“…Sharine, let’s talk about that after I’ve regained my love.”

Sharine is well aware that my emotions are lost, bound by bandages like a veil.

So, she won’t act recklessly until I’ve recovered my love.

I’ll leave this matter to my future self.

My future self will surely know how to handle it.

Then, Sharine slightly curved the corner of her lips upward.

“So, you didn’t reject it, you know.”

Could it be… was this her aim all along?

My eyes widened at Sharine’s incredibly grand scheme.

A fox.

There’s a fox right here.

Sharine leaned her head forward and gently rested her forehead against my chest.

“Husband promised to make a baby with me next time.”

A promise to make a baby, beyond just getting engaged.

Faced with this absurd promise, the fact that I’d lost my sadness became something that didn’t matter all that much.