The Second Gift

Haruka was shocked. He instinctively wanted to pull his feet away, but he heard Momozawa Ai’s voice, as soft and sharp as a needle. “Does the Young Master not like this gift?”

“What is the meaning of this?” Haruka was at a complete loss. He had never expected Murakami Suzune, the quiet maid, to perform such a grand, deeply subservient ritual for him.

“It is very simple,” Momozawa Ai said, her voice a calm, placid lake. “Murakami Suzune is the first gift the mistress has prepared for you.”

“But there’s no need to go to such lengths,” Haruka said, finding the entire spectacle hard to accept, a grotesque display of power that made his stomach churn.

“The Young Master has just returned to the Fujiwara household, so naturally, you are unfamiliar with our customs. Every young master and mistress has their own personal maid to handle their private affairs. The selection of a confidante is, of course, a very strict, very serious process.” Momozawa Ai’s voice was soft, instructive. “For example, I am responsible for handling the Lady’s private matters.”

Haruka glanced at Murakami Suzune, who was still kneeling with her head bowed, a silent, trembling statue at his feet. “Did you have to do this in the past, Mrs. Butler?” he asked, a feeling of profound discomfort growing within him.

Momozawa Ai shook her head. “The Lady and I grew up together. The confidantes of the young ladies are usually chosen from their childhood companions. A simple oath is all that is required.”

“Then she…”

“She did not grow up with you, Young Master. To become your personal attendant, according to the ancient rules of the Fujiwara family, she must swear a strict, unbreakable oath.”

Haruka wanted to speak, to object, but he didn’t know what to say. The traditions of this house felt like a suffocating weight.

Momozawa Ai, thinking he was displeased, immediately bowed. “I apologize for making this decision on your behalf, Young Master. When the Lady was selecting your gifts, it was I who specifically suggested her.” As she spoke, her brow furrowed in disapproval, and she bent down. “Murakami, is this posture how you repay me?”

Murakami Suzune, still kneeling on the floor, trembled violently and immediately pressed her forehead back to the hard ground.

Momozawa Ai, displeased, reached out and pressed her head firmly to the floor. “This is the standard posture… You are not to raise your head until the Young Master has accepted you. And you are not to move a single muscle.”

“There’s no need for all this,” Haruka said, his voice tight, feeling deeply uncomfortable with the casual cruelty.

Momozawa Ai’s voice was so soft it was almost a laugh. “Young Master, this is already the simplified version. If the Old Mistress were not so gravely ill, forbidding any other ceremonies, she would have to change her clothes, sign a formal pledge, and perform a blood oath, followed by three days of fasting. I would be the witness, and all the other servants would have to observe. This is already just a formality.”

Haruka’s scalp tingled. He felt the old aristocracy was full of overly elaborate and dehumanizing rituals, designed to break a person’s spirit.

Momozawa Ai seemed to read his thoughts. “Young Master,” she whispered, her voice a conspiratorial secret, “she is just a gift. And do you know how many people in the Fujiwara household would kill to be this ‘gift’? If it weren’t for the fact that, one, she is presentable, one of the prettiest among the maids, and two, she is both clever and loyal—when the Second Young Mistress and the stewardess came to trouble you, it was she who secretly came to find me, otherwise I would not have arrived so quickly—if it weren’t for these two points, I would never have chosen her.”

Haruka felt a sour taste in his mouth. He looked at Murakami Suzune at his feet. She had done him a favor, yet because of him, she was now being subjected to this humiliating, soul-crushing ordeal.

Kiyohime, who was straddling her chair backwards in the corner, looked at Murakami Suzune with cold, unforgiving eyes. So it was this woman who snitched, she thought. Even though her relationship with Haruka had improved, she had no tolerance for servants who stepped out of line.

Momozawa Ai, seeing all of this, her gaze sweeping from Haruka’s discomfort to Kiyohime’s disdain, said calmly, “Does the Young Master not like her? If not, I can have her replaced.”

Haruka knew, with a sickening certainty, that if he refused Murakami Suzune, her fate would be grim. “I will accept her,” he said, the words feeling heavy in his mouth.

“As long as the Young Master is satisfied. There is not a second maid in the Fujiwara household who is better than she is.” Momozawa Ai’s voice was warm and gentle when she spoke to Haruka, but when she turned to Murakami Suzune, it immediately turned to ice. “Thank the Young Master.”

Murakami Suzune immediately knocked her head heavily on the floor, the sound a dull thud in the quiet room. Then, moving past the neatly folded shoes and clothes, she kissed the tips of his feet again. “Thank you, Young Master, for accepting me.”

A strange, indescribable feeling washed over Haruka, a mixture of pity, power, and disgust.

“She is very clever and will take good care of you, Young Master,” Momozawa Ai said. “Unfortunately, I have many other duties to attend to. Otherwise, I would serve you myself.”

“How could I dare to have Mrs. Butler serve me?” Haruka said quickly. “Mother needs you to take care of her.”

“Suzune,” Momozawa Ai said, “lift your head and let the Young Master have a look at you.”

When Haruka looked, Murakami Suzune had already raised her head. She was wearing light, tasteful makeup, which made her look bright and lovely. Though not as stunning as Kiyohime, she was still a first-rate beauty, her eyes large and dark, filled with a quiet intelligence.

“Young Master,” she said, her voice soft, before lowering her head again.

“Is the Young Master satisfied with the Lady’s first gift?” Momozawa Ai asked softly.

Haruka’s feelings were a tangled, complicated mess. “Of course, I am satisfied.”

“Very good. Murakami Suzune is now your property, Young Master. How you treat her is your own business. Not even the Lady has the right to interfere.” Momozawa Ai leaned close to Haruka and whispered, her breath a warm, perfumed cloud, “Of course, there are some things the Young Master should probably wait a few years to do. And if you really can’t wait, you must take the proper precautions.”

A strange, hot expression crossed Haruka’s face. He was inexplicably reminded of his encounter with Kiyohime in the soft, orange lamplight, and he felt a wave of profound embarrassment.

“Don’t take it to heart, Young Master,” Momozawa Ai whispered. “The Lady said nothing of the sort. This is just my personal advice. After all, the Young Master is at an age of burgeoning youth, and there are many things you do not yet understand.” Her red lips moved closer, almost brushing his skin. “If you really wish to learn, you may come and ask me, in private.”

A shiver ran down Haruka’s spine, not just because of her tempting, dangerous words, but because he felt her full, red lips gently graze his earlobe, a sensation like a tiny, exquisite electric shock.

He jerked his head to look at her, but she was already standing back, her expression perfectly composed, a mask of professional calm. If he were to judge by her face alone, he would never have imagined she could say or do such a thing. He even began to wonder if his own senses had deceived him. Even Kiyohime in the distance and Murakami Suzune on the floor had not noticed her subtle, intimate movement.

“Mrs. Butler, please don’t joke about such things,” Haruka said, a little flustered, his voice not as steady as he would have liked.

“Does the Young Master truly think I am joking?” Momozawa Ai exhaled softly, a sound like a sigh.

Haruka saw that her eyes were a little hazy, a little unfocused, and he quickly looked away, his heart feeling as if it were being tickled by a strange, invisible insect, a feeling even stranger and more unsettling than when Murakami Suzune had knelt and sworn her oath.

“What is the second gift?” he asked, desperate to change the subject.

Momozawa Ai gave Murakami Suzune a look. “Show it to the Young Master.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Murakami Suzune took a small, black wooden box from beneath her kimono, the kind used for a single, precious ring. She held it with both hands and, still on her knees, crawled to Haruka.

He opened the box. As he had expected, nestled inside on a bed of black velvet, was a carnelian ring.

Haruka had never seen such a valuable piece of jewelry before. He took it in his hand curiously and, upon closer inspection, saw that the carnelian was the deep, dark color of dried blood.

Murakami Suzune, her head bowed, recited, her voice a flat, emotionless monotone, “Fujiwara Asou was drunk and repeatedly offended you, Young Master. After she sobered up, she was filled with a profound remorse for her actions and, feeling she was beyond redemption, she took her own life. Before she did, she offered her most valuable possession, this ring, to you, Young Master, as an atonement for her sins.”