THE ONE WHOSE LOVE WAS STOLEN

Still sobbing, Kun ran down to the dining room and flung his whole weight against the heavy glass door.

“Oof!”

He sat on the landing in the courtyard and slipped on his shoes. He started down the stairs but stumbled and hit his nose on the ground. The pain and misery only made him howl harder.

“Waaaaaah!”

Through his tears, he sputtered unintelligibly.

“I bu-bu-bate ba baby.”

What he was trying to say was I hate the baby.

Suddenly…

“Hee-hee-hee-hee!”

He couldn’t tell where the voice was coming from. It sounded like whoever was laughing was trying very hard not to.

Who was it?

When he thought about it, the only people in the house were Dad and Mom and the baby. This was the courtyard, so no one else should’ve been able to get in. All the same, he was sure he heard the unfamiliar baritone of a middle-aged man. The voice started talking.

“Hee-hee-hee… It’s no good.”

“Huh?”

Kun turned around. To his surprise, the little courtyard with its single oak tree was gone, replaced by a completely different view.

Before him stood the ruins of an old Gothic-style church. Its roof had collapsed, so there was no ceiling, and a tangle of vines climbed through the tall, narrow windows that tapered up to pointed arches in the crumbling walls on either side of him. The ruins looked entirely forgotten. All the same, water bubbled from a low, round fountain in the middle of the stone floor. A handsome wooden bench curved around it.

A yard. Yes, this must have been another yard.

A man was sitting on the bench with his legs crossed. Thanks to the sunbeams filtering through the arched windows, Kun couldn’t see him very well, but this person appeared to be the owner of the voice. The man stood and slowly walked around the fountain toward Kun, keeping his head down.

“Let me guess how you’re feeling right now. In short, you’re jealous.”

“Jealous? What does that mean?”

As the man drew closer, Kun was able to see him better. His hair was disheveled, and he wore an old-fashioned light-brown coat, a red necktie, and three-quarter-length pants. Despite his scruffy beard, he spoke in an imperious way. The incongruity called to mind a down-on-his-luck aristocrat.

“Up to now, you had your mother and father’s love all to yourself. But now, that love was stolen from you by a little runt who arrived with no forewarning. You knew you’d get in trouble if you raised your hand against her. Still, you couldn’t resist…”

The man halted and looked calmly down at Kun with a sardonic laugh.

“Ha-ha. I hit the nail on the head, did I not?”

“…Who are you?”

“I am a prince.”

“A prince?”

“Yes. The prince of this house. Or I was—until you were born.”

He didn’t look anything like a prince. What was he talking about? Kun tilted his head.

“You are in the presence of royalty. Kneel before me,” the man commanded, stretching out his arms authoritatively.

“…”

Kun kneeled obediently.

The man placed one hand on his chest, as if basking in a fond memory.

“Ah, your mother and father treated me so well. We were always together. They told me how adorable I was and petted my head… But!”

As his voice abruptly rose, the man circled around Kun threateningly.

“Once you got here, I was pushed into a corner. They traded my favorite food for a discount brand and stopped giving me treats, praising me, or even noticing me. These days, all they ever do is scold me…”

With a sigh, he stopped walking and dropped his head so suddenly it seemed as though his neck would break.

“I realized something then. My love had been stolen away. Do you know what a horrible, miserable, depressing thing that is?”

“No,” Kun answered immediately.

“Really?”

The man leaned toward him, his eyes bulging.

“You don’t, eh? Is that so? Well, no matter. But remember, it could happen to you. In fact, that day is fast approaching. And I’m glad for it!” he shouted, then marched away in a huff.

Kun had to admit, the prince was right. He’d perfectly expressed all the worries that had accompanied the baby’s arrival. But how did he know? Who on earth was he? Maybe…just maybe…if he had to guess…

“Oh!”

Glancing down at the ground, Kun caught sight of the egg-shaped rubber ball. Yes! He could test his theory!

“Huh?”

The prince realized what Kun had picked up, and he turned. Kun tossed the ball with a quick flick of his hand.

“Go get it!”

“Whoa!”

As the ball arced into the air, the man reflexively chased after it. Despite its erratic bouncing, he swiftly caught it and raced back to Kun’s side.

“Here you go!” he said, holding it out.

Kun eyed the ball resting on the man’s palm, then snatched it up and hurled it in a different direction.

“Go get it!”

“Whoa!”

Once again, the prince speedily retrieved the ball.

“Here you go,” he said, holding it out.

Now that he had guessed the man’s true identity, Kun grinned.

“What?” the man queried, unable to interpret the smile.

Kun threw the ball with all his might high into the air. While the prince was looking up and waiting for it to fall, the boy hunched down and slipped under the brown coat. Just as he’d anticipated, he found a familiar feather-duster-like tail attached to the man’s rear end.

“Thought so!”

It was Yukko. No doubt about it. Without hesitating, Kun grabbed the tail in both hands, throwing all his weight into it, and yanked it off.

“Hey, what are you doing?” The man patted his posterior and looked over his shoulder. Something felt strange. To his surprise, he found Kun holding his tail in his hands.

“Hey! Stop that! Sto—!”

But Kun had already taken aim and jammed the tail onto his own bottom.

The next instant…

…an odd zing of electricity zipped from the soles of his feet all the way up his back. When it reached the hair on the top of his head, a pair of long ears popped out on either side. Long hair sprouted from the sides of his cheeks, too, and his nose became black and round. He planted both hands on the ground and raised his head.

“Woof!” he barked. He had turned into a dog.

The prince (that is, the tailless Yukko) didn’t know what to do, so he just stood still as a statue. The ball eventually came back down and plonked him on the head, finally bringing him back to his senses.

“Give it back,” he insisted, lunging at Kun. But Kun skipped aside with the agility of a toy breed and darted around excitedly.

Yukko landed face-first on the stone pavement. Without pausing to whine over the pain, he scrambled to his feet and chased after Kun with abandon.

“Wait! Give me back my tail!”

“Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!”

Kun laughed and scampered happily about the courtyard, unable to contain his amusement at his transformation. He ran around and around the fountain, and Yukko dashed around and around behind him. Even a small dog at full speed isn’t easy for a two-legged human to catch.

Kun could see Dad working in the dining room beyond the glass door. He seemed oblivious to the commotion in the courtyard. He didn’t even acknowledge their noisy chase.

“Woof, woof! I’m over here!”

“Stop playing around and give it back!”

“I don’t want to. I wanna keep playing!”

Kun zipped up the stairs and worked his nose into the crack between the dining room doors.

“Oh no!”

Yukko scurried behind the oak tree. Unwilling to let Mom and Dad see him without his tail, he stretched his hand out imploringly from his hiding place.

“Please don’t!”

Kun ignored him and instead jumped into the dining room, running around like a crazy dog. At the sound, Dad stopped working and peered under the table.

“What’s the matter, Yukko?”

He had called Kun “Yukko.” The boy wanted him to do it again, so he jumped up onto the cabinet and launched himself at the Christmas tree in an attempt to knock it down. Dad stood up, frowning.

“Hey, Yukko! Stop that!”

Kun giggled. Dad thought he was Yukko.

He ran up to the living room, kicking aside picture books as he went. Mom sat up from where she’d been sleeping next to the baby.

“Yukko,” she called. She thought he was the family dog, too! “What’s the matter with him?”

Dad had followed him upstairs and seemed just as confused as she was. “Beats me.”

Kun perched on the sofa and looked down at them all.

“I’m Yukko!”

As if in answer, the baby started to cry. “Waah!”

Kun thought being called Yukko was the funniest thing in the world. Becoming someone else was so fun! It was like he had been set free and the gloomy clouds had lifted.

Yukko, meanwhile, gazed at them mournfully from the other side of the glass door. His self had been stolen.

“I’m begging you, give it back.”

The sun was already sinking low. Kun wasn’t sure when it happened, but the courtyard was back to normal.

“Whiiiine.”

Yukko, now a dog once more, licked his tail affectionately and whimpered. He glared resentfully at Kun, but the boy ignored him.

“Woof, woof!” As Kun did his best impression of Yukko, Mom and Dad watched their cheerful son with surprise.

“Sheesh, a little while ago he was throwing a tantrum like a baby, and now look at him.”

“He may be stubborn, but he does recover quickly.”

“I’m not acting like a baby. I’m acting like Yukko.”

“Well then, do you understand what Yukko is saying?” asked Mom.

“Uh-huh. He says he wants yummier dog food,” Kun said, acting as spokesperson for the sulky dog.

“Oh, is that so? I see. In that case, I’ll go buy him some new food,” Dad said with an ironic smile as he got to his feet. Yukko raised his head, his eyes sparkling.

“Woof!”

Yukko seemed to approve of the new food Dad bought for him. As soon as his dish was set on the ground, he wolfed down every last bite. Dad watched him till he was done, then started on dinner for the humans. Tonight’s menu was tuna sashimi and sausage soup, two of Kun’s favorites, and the little boy pranced around contentedly as his father cooked. His mother smiled in relief as she watched him.

After dinner, everyone took a bath together, and Mom delegated the task of washing the baby to Dad. Supporting her neck in the water with one hand, he gingerly wiped between the wrinkles on her neck, arms, and legs with a washcloth as Mom taught him the ins and outs from the bathtub. Kun poured water back and forth from a set of cups to make his wooden toy fish swim.

When he got out of the bath, he put on clean underwear. After a round of breastfeeding, the baby fell right to sleep. Kun must have been tired, too, because he started snoring almost as soon as he lay down next to his trains.

The stepped house was finally quiet.

In the dim dining room, Mom was in her pajamas, spreading butter onto a pancake stuffed with sweet red beans. She picked it up in both hands and took a giant bite.

“Mm. Oh boy, this is perfect.”

Dad was worriedly looking at his laptop screen, a towel draped over his neck.

“Am I really going to be able to take over from you?”

“Why? Because she won’t let you feed her?”

“When I hold her, she never stops crying, but when you hold her, she’s perfectly quiet.”

“I’m not surprised things are hard for you. You didn’t lift a finger when Kun was a baby.”

Dad stopped typing in surprise and closed his laptop apologetically.

“I’m sorry. I escaped into my work,” he said.

“But somehow you were always trying to please me.”

“Ha-ha. I’m a terrible father, aren’t I?” A bead of nervous sweat ran down his neck, and he rubbed the back of his head ruefully.

“I just thought men weren’t interested in babies,” Mom replied, as if reflecting on what had happened. It had been a difficult time for her. Really, truly.

“But I’m sure interested now.”

“Really? You’re joking, right?”

Dad suddenly gave her a hearty grin and pumped his fists up and down like a muscle man. Mom was taken aback.

“Really! Super, super interested!”

“Now I know you’re joking,” she said with a weak smile as his theatrics continued.

“See? Ha-ha-ha! Look, look!”

“Ha-ha-ha-ha…”

Then they were both laughing.

“Oh, wait.”

Suddenly, Dad stopped pumping his fists, took out his phone, and typed something on it.

“What are you writing?”

“Something I thought of just now.”

Her own smartphone buzzed. She picked it up and looked hard at the word on the screen.

“Whatcha think?”

“Hmm…I like it.”

“It kinda shows the way forward.”

“Yeah. I think it’s good.”

Both of them stared at their screens for a little while.

Kun was sleeping on his stomach with his rear end held high.

“Mm…”

He opened his eyes. Slowly, he stood up and scanned the room. Nobody was there.

“…”

Still in his pajamas, he rubbed his eyes and went down to the living room.

“Good morning, Kun.” Mom greeted him, holding the baby.

“Good morning.”

Dad stopped his breakfast preparations for a moment and walked over to Kun.

“Hey, look behind you,” he prodded.

“…?”

Hanging on the wall above the Advent calendar was a piece of paper with a word in brush and ink.

“What’s it say?”

“Her name. Mirai.”

“Mirai?”

Dad put his hands on Kun’s shoulders and turned him toward the baby.

“The baby’s name is Mirai.”

Kun observed the pouting baby asleep in Mom’s arms. Solemnly, he repeated her name. It meant “future.” “…Mirai?”

Her eyes flew open, as if she knew she was being called.

She hadn’t had a name before, but now she had a brand-new one. Giving someone a name was like sharing some of your strength with them, Kun mused. Still, the word sounded strange to him. Mirai, Mirai, Mirai. He repeated it over and over in his head. Then he grinned and said it out loud once more.

“Mirai!”

He thought for a minute, then offered his opinion.

“That’s a weird name.”

The baby glanced at Kun, still pouting.