The Gods 

Mr. Koizumi, after all, was still a man. A bitter seed of jealousy had been planted, but given their respective statuses, he couldn’t say anything, afraid of leaving a petty, unseemly impression. He could only suppress his frustration and act as if nothing had happened. He picked up his teacup to take a drink, only to find it was already empty.

He cursed his luck under his breath and put the cup down with a soft click. He didn’t want to look, but he couldn’t help it. His wife was gently holding Haruka’s hand, her voice a soft murmur as she spoke of fate and fortune. He glanced at the blessed bracelet now circling Haruka’s wrist. Could it be true? he thought, a cold dread washing over him. Did I really offend the gods?

It had been seven years ago. Mr. Koizumi was just starting his career in politics, a young man hungry for power, not yet married into his wife’s influential family. He had come to the Ise Grand Shrine to pray for good fortune. At the time, he was full of ambition and didn’t believe in gods or ghosts, but had come at the insistence of his family.

During his visit, he heard that the head priestess of the Ise Shrine was a woman of great virtue and prestige, over a hundred years old, yet still possessing the unlined, youthful appearance of a girl. A bunch of charlatans, he had thought with a sneer. They may be able to fool others, but they can’t fool me.

Determined to find out the truth, to expose the lie, he had snuck into a forbidden sanctuary, a hallowed hall only the head priestess could enter.

He did not see the wizened old woman he had expected. Instead, he saw a woman in magnificent, ancient robes, kneeling before a divine statue. The woman suddenly stopped her prayers and, as if sensing his presence, his sacrilege, turned her head and looked directly at the pillar where he was hiding.

Mr. Koizumi’s heart nearly leaped out of his chest, partly from the fear of being caught, but mostly from being stunned by her absolute, otherworldly beauty. Could she be Lady Murasaki of the Fujiwara family, here to worship? he had thought, his heart pounding. At the time, his status was not high enough to have ever met the young Lady Murasaki, but he had often heard others speak of her legendary beauty.

The woman smiled, a serene, terrifying expression. Her voice was ethereal, seeming to come from all corners of the room at once. “You have trespassed and disturbed the gods. You have no faith in your heart. But the gods are merciful. They will forgive your transgression and spare your life. For the rest of your days, your good fortune will serve only to highlight your misfortune. That will be your penance.”

She spoke so lightly, with no anger on her face, but Mr. Koizumi’s heart was pounding uncontrollably. He couldn’t stay a moment longer. He turned and fled, the scent of ancient incense and cold stone chasing him out.

Perhaps there truly was such a thing as fate in the world. On his way down the mountain, shaken and unnerved, he had accidentally bumped into a father and daughter, the very patrons who would become his greatest political allies, and the woman who would become his beloved wife.

Looking back on it now, he always felt a sense of profound, cosmic absurdity. Since that day, Mr. Koizumi and his father-in-law’s political careers had been smooth sailing, a relentless climb to the top. But the price had been his own permanent… inadequacy. Looking at his loving, sad-eyed wife, he could only sigh. Even though he was consumed by his ambition for power, he often felt a deep, suffocating frustration. He could joke about it, but in truth, it bothered him more than anyone.

Mr. Koizumi slowly came back to the present. He saw that Nobuna had released Haruka’s hand and was smiling. “You must come and visit your mother sometime when you are free.”

“Don’t worry,” Haruka said, his voice polite. “When I have the time, I will definitely pay a visit to my godmother.”

Mr. Koizumi forced a smile. “I have nothing to give you. How about this: when you come of age, you should go into politics. Like my father-in-law, you can start as a secretary. It won’t take many years for you to climb to the top.”

Lady Murasaki knew that Haruka disliked him and had no interest in politics. “My child is not very fond of politicians,” she said, her voice cold.

Mr. Koizumi laughed. “It’s true, a filial young man is not suited for politics. But people change.”

Lady Murasaki smiled, a polite, distant expression that was a clear dismissal. “There is no need to worry about whether he is ‘filial’ or not, Mr. Koizumi. After all, my child has only recognized Nobuna as his godmother.”

Hearing this, the color drained from Mr. Koizumi’s face. But Nobuna took his hand and said softly, “Whether he is your child or my child, is it not the same?”

Mr. Koizumi nodded. “As adults, we should interfere less in a child’s thoughts. Let him decide for himself whether he wants to go into politics when he is older.” He slowly stood up. “It is getting late. We should be going now.”

“Safe travels,” Lady Murasaki and the others said, standing up to see them off.

“If only I had more time,” Mr. Koizumi said with false sincerity, “I would have liked to see our mother one more time.”

Haruka almost gagged.

“You are very thoughtful, Mr. Koizumi,” Lady Murasaki said, her voice smooth as silk.

Mr. Koizumi, carrying the gift from Lady Murasaki, left with his wife. He stumbled on a slightly raised step at the entrance, nearly falling. He caught himself just in time and let out a long sigh of relief.

“I told you, didn’t I?” Nobuna said with a quiet, sad conviction. “If you don’t knock before entering, you will be tripped by the door.”

Mr. Koizumi’s dislike of superstition only grew. He turned. “Goodbye, Madam.”

“Safe travels, Mr. Koizumi.” Lady Murasaki and the others did not escort them any further, knowing there were bodyguards waiting outside.

Haruka watched his “new mother” walk away, then turned to look at his “old” one.

Lady Murasaki’s face was calm. She knew Haruka had questions he wanted to ask her in private. She summarily dismissed Kiyohime. “If you have something to say, say it now.”

Haruka took a deep breath, looked at her beautiful, captivating face, and asked the question that had been burning a hole in his soul. “Are you really my biological mother?”

Lady Murasaki’s brow slowly furrowed, her narrow, beautiful eyes staring directly at Haruka, making his heart beat uneasily.

“Hold out the back of your hand,” she said suddenly, her voice devoid of all warmth.

Confused, Haruka did as he was told. He watched as she reached into the gift box from Mr. Koizumi and took out the precious, two-finger-long white jade ruyi.

Haruka was usually quick-witted, but now he was a little dazed, wondering what she intended to do. He saw her lift the jade scepter and, with a flick of her wrist, bring it down sharply on the back of his hand.

He let out a small, childish cry of pain and pulled his hand back.

Lady Murasaki said nothing, just looked at him quietly, her expression unreadable.

Haruka understood her meaning. He obediently held out his hand again.

She struck him twice more with the jade scepter. When she was finished, his hand was still throbbing with a numb, radiating pain. He looked at her, at a complete loss.

But the look on her face was one of even greater pain than his own. She took his hand, her touch surprisingly gentle, and softly blew on the reddened skin. “Did it hurt?”

Haruka nodded, his eyes stinging.

“You disappointed Mama,” she said coldly. “That is why Mama hit you.”

The warmth of her breath on his skin made the back of his hand begin to tingle. He felt a strange, unfamiliar sensation of being cared for. Yukishiro Tomoe had always been indifferent to him. Forget a small corporal punishment; she rarely even spoke to him. Her most common punishment was to starve him for a meal. And so, it was from Lady Murasaki, from this strange, cruel woman, that he always seemed to feel a mother’s love.

“Don’t disappoint me again. Do you understand?” Lady Murasaki’s face softened again as she stroked his cheek.

“I understand, Mama,” Haruka said, nodding obediently. “It won’t happen again.”

The moment he said it, he felt a sharp pang of guilt, knowing he was lying to her. After this second “adoption,” after this strange punishment, he was more determined than ever to find out the truth.