Jiho: "I think he should stay with Ariha."
Hiroto sighed and turned to his wife.
Hiroto: "Long story short—he's a distant relative, Ariha's age. I'll explain later. Kids, go get settled. Jiho, tell your parents we've got this."
Little Akito toddled up to Senko and tugged his sleeve.
Akito: "Mister, why can't I see you properly? What do you really look like?"
The prince froze, flustered. Ariha crouched beside them, pulling up a historical portrait of Senko on her phone.
Ariha: "He's from very far away, where people see him like this. See?"
Akito: "Wow! He's pretty!"
Ariha: "And you're special for seeing him at all. Most people can't."
Akito: "Why can we?"
Ariha hesitated—the "royal blood" theory felt too heavy for a five-year-old.
Ariha: "Because he's family. Like how we all share blond hair and blue eyes."
Akito: "Can Mama and Nana see him too?"
Ariha shook her head gently.
Ariha: "Mama's not related to him, and Nana didn't inherit those traits..."
Akito's lip wobbled. "So they never will?"
Jiho (kneeling): "We'll fix that. Promise."
Meanwhile, the adults:
Aunt Sakura (peering at the phone): "Wait—he's the Ice Prince from the legends?!"
Ariha (nervously): "Y-yeah, but don't freak—"
Jiho (abruptly): "Gotta go! Kids, bedtime." He herded the chaos toward the hallway.
Ariha grabbed Senko and Akito's hands.
Ariha: "Storytime! And you—" She pointed at Nana, who'd been edging away. "—no escaping history lessons!"
As the door slammed behind them, Hiroto and Sakura exchanged glances.
Sakura: "...Did our niece just kidnap a time-traveling prince?"
Hiroto (sipping tea): "Worse. She's corrupting him with convenience-store snacks."