Reni's Anxiety
I couldn't write ordinary letters properly, yet I was supposedly good at calligraphy.
Even to me, it was a flimsy, unconvincing excuse, but I had nothing better to offer.
Greg looked at me with an expression that clearly said What a strange guy, shrugged, and asked something else.
"By the way, is Reni off from kindergarten today?"
"Ah, Reni."
That morning, Reni had sat up after waking, looking as if he were wrestling with a decision, then announced he didn't want to go to kindergarten.
It was surprising enough that I asked why, but the boy couldn't quite answer. After a moment he simply pointed at Luca.
"I have to take care of Luca today. I'm the big brother!"
The words themselves were bright and lively, yet his eyes wavered and the finger pointing at Luca—who was staring blankly back at him—trembled just a little. Seeing that, I simply said all right.
"So I just fed them breakfast like nothing was wrong and came to work. I looked it up—kids saying they don't want to go to kindergarten happens pretty often."
Greg crossed his arms with a serious face. These days, any talk about children made him take everything with absolute gravity.
"Your daughters are still a long way from kindergarten age, so you don't need to start worrying yet."
"Still, it bothers me. Why all of a sudden? Reni used to be so eager to go. Did he fight with his friends?"
"The teacher said yesterday that he got along fine with the other kids, so I don't think that's it. She also said he's keeping up with the lessons well."
Just in case, I'd texted the teacher first thing in the morning, shameless about the early hour. She replied that kids sometimes go through phases like this and asked me to listen carefully to whatever he had to say.
"That can happen. Even if he was fine that day, he might just be feeling resistance to a new environment. Charlie went through the same thing."
Cassandra, the max-level mom, tried to ease my worries. I nodded.
"I think so too. The teacher also mentioned he asked for Mom and Dad for a little while yesterday…"
Just for a very short moment, she'd said. But how could anyone truly know a child's heart? Even if he insisted he was fine on the outside, he might have been quietly enduring anxiety underneath.
Reni was especially sensitive and clever. He wasn't the sort of child who could easily forget memories that might turn into trauma.
So I decided not to pry into his feelings prematurely. I would wait until he chose to speak, or until he simply felt better on his own. Forcing questions or pushing my own ideas on him might only make him shut down tighter and hide what was inside.
"…"
In that regard, Luca would probably be easier to raise. Of course he might change as he grew, but if he stayed true to his current personality, he would make his likes and dislikes perfectly clear. He would be open and bold about everything—with his dad, with the whole world—without holding anything back.
Anyway.
"I read that when a child is like this, if the parents look distressed it can actually make separation anxiety worse. So I'm just going to wait."
Cassandra, who had been looking ready to offer advice, let out a soft sound of admiration.
"It's hard to believe this is your first time raising kids, Jun. You're so calm. When Charlie went through it I had to force him to kindergarten and it wore me out."
"Thanks. But maybe the situations are different? You were still working at the company then. Right now I can stay with the kids as much as they need."
"Hey, what if the kid's acting up more because you secretly want him to stay home?"
Wait… could that be it? Greg's remark made me pause, but I shook my head almost at once.
"No, I don't think so."
Reni might not look it, but he was quietly stubborn. Once he set his mind on something, he saw it through.
"Anyway. Don't ask him about kindergarten. Just treat him like usual."
"Okay."
With that, Greg headed into the playroom. He was still taking the slow approach, trying to earn points with Luca little by little. His eventual goal was to play with the kids on camera and turn it into new content, so it was a decent strategy in its own way.
"Auaah!"
"Ow! Don't hit me, Luca!"
Luca and Greg bickered while Reni's laughter floated out after them.
…His goal still looked a long way off. Hang in there, Greg.
Leaving the children with him, I started searching for calligraphy supplies.
Ink, fountain pens, nibs…
There were so many kinds of nibs. Far more tools than I'd expected. Paper varieties alone were endless…
And everything was more expensive than I'd thought. Calligraphy turned out to be a surprisingly costly hobby.
After a moment's hesitation I ordered a starter set advertised as having all the basic tools. From my experience trying new things, one actual attempt with the real tools was worth more than reading a hundred articles about them.
Just in case, I also ordered a fountain pen that came with a practice booklet.
After that I moved to the workshop and threw myself into making Cassandra's dress.
I used to think wedding dresses were ridiculously overpriced. Making one by hand, I could almost understand the cost.
Almost. It still felt too expensive.
I was sewing lace onto fabric when a cheerful melody drifted in from the hallway—the sound of my second son making his grand entrance.
The new walker I'd bought for Luca played music whenever the wheels turned. Ever since he started walking, I got to hear that tune several times a day.
Usually the sound stayed inside the playroom, but this time it came much closer.
I glanced over. Behind the kids stood Greg, using exaggerated gestures to signal that Reni had brought Luca to find Daddy.
Sure enough, Reni pointed at me and said to his brother,
"Luca, Daddy's right here!"
"Hee…"
Luca grinned at me once, then kept pushing the walker right past.
Whether he was savoring the thrill of exploring unknown territory or simply enjoying the freedom, ever since he learned to walk Luca had taken to roaming every corner of the house and office.
"Luca, Daddy's here…"
Reni murmured as he watched his brother zip past me.
Yes—the boy had clearly developed sudden separation anxiety.
Or maybe, until recently, he hadn't fully accepted me as his father, and only now was the feeling settling in.
I set the lace down and stood. Then I scooped up Reni, who looked a little flustered, into my arms.
"Reni, looks like Luca wants to walk. Want to play Follow Luca with me?"
A smile bloomed across the boy's face. He nodded hard, delighted.
"Yeah!"
We trailed after Luca while chatting about this and that. Every so often Reni seemed to check my expression, as if he thought he was doing something wrong. Each time I pretended not to notice, hugged him tighter, and kissed him.
Just as Maria had said before—maybe all I needed to do was let him feel that I was always right here, watching over him.
Then this curious, clever child would soon want to return to kindergarten, where new things to learn and play were waiting for him.
Or we could just keep him home like this. Either way was fine.
In a little while he'd be big enough to run away even if I tried to hold him close. I had to enjoy every moment while I still could.
The next day the packages arrived.
The fountain pen could wait; with a little flutter of excitement I opened the calligraphy set first.
The starter kit contained a wooden pen holder, several differently shaped nibs, basic black and blue ink, and a beginner's practice pad.
The gold ink I'd ordered as an extra—because it looked too pretty to resist—was carefully wrapped in bubble wrap. When I unwrapped it the bottle was smaller than expected, and prettier than expected.
There's always a reason expensive things cost what they do.
Ah—right. I'd read that you were supposed to heat the nib over a lighter flame first.
"Does anyone have a lighter?"
"Eleven years smoke-free."
"I quit when Rachel got pregnant."
Cassandra and Greg answered in turn.
"Excellent. Very admirable of you both."
Admirable answers, but no fire.
I had no choice but to turn the gas stove on low and roast the nib like a marshmallow, turning it front and back. Apparently that helped it hold ink better.
Now all I had to do was pick a style and start writing, right?
The practice sheets that came with the set listed alphabet styles along with stroke counts and order: italic, gothic, copperplate… plus uncial and roman as well.
They all looked ornate and complicated. Still, I could copy them once to get the feel, then study calligraphy videos for more inspiration.
I opened an ink bottle and dipped the pen. A heavy gaze on the back of my neck made me turn slightly.
"…Why are you both hovering like that? It's stressful."
Greg and Cassandra stood right behind me, breathing down my neck. Goosebumps rose.
"We're curious."
"Just write something already."
Ugh. At this rate even a natural talent would mess up.
But the hand blessed by the Manito App never wavered.
Swish, swish…
"Whoa, that's insane! You're actually amazing! What even are you?"
"Wow. Incredible, Jun. They say some people are born with golden hands… I never thought I'd see one standing in front of me."
"Haha…"
I laughed awkwardly. This wasn't a born Golden Hand, it was…
The thought stopped me mid-stroke.
A rational suspicion suddenly surfaced: what if every "born Golden Hand" Cassandra talked about was someone just like me?
"…"
Nah. No way.
I set the pen down and stood to grab some coffee. Then I nearly jumped—Reni was outside the window, chin propped on his hands, watching me.
The moment our eyes met he gave me a smiling squint and ducked out of sight beneath the sill.
I carried in a small table I'd hastily built from leftover wood in a corner of the playroom and sat down.
I could have practiced at my desk, but I wanted to stay in the same room so Reni—suddenly feeling separation anxiety—could play with peace of mind.
Sure enough, Luca glanced at me once and went right back to his toys, while Reni came scampering over and settled beside me.
"Daddyyy, what are you doing?"
"Hmm, Daddy's practicing writing."
"Writing practice? Why? Daddy already writes good."
He snuggled into my lap with that little coaxing tone, and I hugged him tight.
"Still, I want to make the letters a little prettier. I'm going to practice from now on. Want to watch, Reni?"
"Yes!"
I pulled up the images I'd screenshotted from various calligraphy videos and began copying them.
Swish, swish…
"Wow…"
As the pen glided smoothly across the paper, Reni let out a soft gasp of wonder, eyes sparkling up at me.
I was having fun too. Any action done with just the hands felt like experiencing real magic in my own body.
Things like driving—where the whole body and eyes had to move freely—were still hard, but when my gaze stayed fixed and I already understood the motion to some degree, it was fascinating and delightful.
I copied different hands and flourishes, sinking into the sensation.
Just like cooking or driving, I wanted to practice calligraphy diligently for the remaining time the Manito App was active and make the skill truly my own.
Pretty handwriting was quietly useful in life, and it seemed like it would make a lovely hobby.
I looked at the child still watching me with those bright eyes, then took out black paper and gold ink and carefully wrote a single word in an ornate style.
Afterward I tapped the pen against the paper so tiny flecks of gold scattered like stars across a night sky.
"Wow, so prettyyy!"
"Right? Looks like stars, doesn't it?"
"Yeah!"
"Think you can read the word Daddy wrote?"
"Umm… Re… Re…"
His whole face lit up.
"Reni!"
I pulled the delighted boy into a hug and ruffled his hair wildly.
"That's right. It's our pretty Reni's name."
Excited, he jumped up with the paper and ran out to show Greg and Cassandra.
Then Luca, looking a little sulky, crawled determinedly over to me.
"Daddy!"
"Yeah, I'll make one for our Luca too. Come here."
This time I wrote Luca's name in gold ink on white paper, then drew a big circle around it like a sun.
"See? Daddy wrote 'Luca.'"
"Yeah."
Of course, Luca showed little interest in the paper with his name on it.
So I hugged him the same way I had hugged his brother and planted a kiss on his head. Only then did Luca smile, finally satisfied.