Starting Over 

“Please do not spread such rumors,” Momozawa Ai said, her voice a strained, desperate whisper.

“Of course not. After all, it’s just a baseless guess on my part, with no proof,” Haruka said casually, his tone light, almost conversational. “But then, there’s no proof that Kiyohime isn’t Lady Murasaki’s daughter either, and that rumor seems to be spreading just fine among the servants, doesn’t it?”

He watched as Momozawa Ai held her deep, subservient bow, her slender waist bent so low that if she were to bend her knees, her perfect red lips would touch the tips of his feet.

“‘The clamor of the masses can melt metal’,” he said, her own cold words thrown back at her, a perfect, inescapable trap. “That’s what you taught me, Mrs. Butler.”

Momozawa Ai didn’t dare to look up, her red lips almost kissing his feet for real. “Young Master,” she said, her voice full of a desperate, final resignation, “my loyalty is truly and sincerely to the Lady.”

“I know that, of course,” Haruka said, his voice softening slightly, becoming persuasive. “But it’s difficult to guard against those with ulterior motives. Instead of living in constant anxiety, Mrs. Butler, why don’t you place another bet… on me?”

Momozawa Ai didn’t answer directly. Instead, she asked, her voice muffled by her proximity to the ground, “May I straighten up first, Young Master?”

“Please.”

She returned to her normal posture, her beautiful face slowly rising, her expression as unreadable and perfect as ever. But Haruka felt the distance between them had shortened considerably. He was no longer fumbling in the dark; he could now faintly make out the true, complex contours of the woman behind the cold, beautiful mask. This was the first time he had truly used what Izayoi had taught him. Momozawa Ai’s deference was not a submission to him, but a submission to her own “desire”—the desire to protect her daughter and her own precarious position.

Momozawa Ai’s full, red lips parted. “I am loyal to Lady Murasaki.”

Haruka let out a quiet sigh of relief. Hearing her repeat the words with such deliberate emphasis, he knew he had won, for the most part. “Everyone in the Fujiwara household knows that.” He continued, pressing his advantage, “Mrs. Butler, let us call this a mutually beneficial arrangement. You remain pure, you remain loyal to Lady Murasaki. We have simply made a transaction.”

“Mm,” Momozawa Ai’s full lips pressed together as if they might burst. “I will be making many transactions with the Young Master in the future.”

Haruka forced himself to appear calm, to hide the electric thrill of his victory. “Then take me to her.”

“Young Master,” Momozawa Ai said hesitantly, “it may be useless even if you rush over. Once the Lady has made a decision, you cannot persuade her with just a few words.”

Haruka had wanted to say, with full, arrogant confidence, “I have my ways,” but the words that came out were softer, more honest. “I don’t want to stand here and do nothing. I can only do what I can.”

Hearing this, Momozawa Ai was suddenly struck by the fact that he was still just a child, a boy playing a man’s game. She felt a flicker of shame for her earlier submission, but then she thought, I will still have to make many transactions with him in the future.

“I will take you, Young Master,” she said. “But there is one thing I must say, from my own personal standpoint.”

“Go on.”

“Young Master, abandon your useless conscience. You will live a much better life in the Fujiwara household that way.”

Haruka said nothing, thinking, To abandon my conscience for myself, I cannot do it. But for my friends, for my family… I… I don’t know…

Seeing his conflicted expression, Momozawa Ai knew he was unwilling to do anything that violated his morals. She sighed inwardly with a sense of pity. But then she had a startling thought. If Haruka didn’t have that conscience, would she really be willing to help him, again and again?

Her expression softened. She extended her hand to Haruka.

He didn’t understand her meaning, thinking it was a formal handshake to seal their new deal. He put out his own hand. “You want to shake my hand, Mrs. Butler?”

Momozawa Ai tucked a golden strand of hair behind her ear and leaned close to his face, her blue eyes glittering. “You really are just a child who doesn’t understand anything,” she whispered.

Haruka blinked. Before he could speak, Momozawa Ai had turned the “handshake” into “hand-holding,” her cool fingers lacing through his. “There is no time to waste,” she said softly. “I will take you to her now.”

With that, she took off, like a magnificent white mare, her proud head held high. Her smooth, lustrous skin was as white as snow in the sunlight, her slender waist and long, full legs powerful and strong. With just a few steps, she had already covered several meters.

“Ah!” Haruka cried out, caught completely off guard. He was like a plastic bag caught on a branch, whipped along by the wind, dragged behind her.

Suzune, in the distance, finally reacted and hurried to keep up.

Momozawa Ai showed no sign of slowing down. Her long, golden hair flew out behind her like a banner, whipping across Haruka’s face, forcing him to close his eyes, a surge of helpless annoyance rising within him.

She turned her head, her blue eyes looking at him. “The Second Young Mistress’ matter  is urgent. You can keep up, can’t you, Young Master?” Her words held no respect, only a teasing, goading challenge.

Haruka, refusing to be beaten, quickened his pace, trying to match hers. But she was an adult who had clearly been professionally trained. If she were to run seriously, few could catch her. And he was just a boy, malnourished and with average stamina. He watched as she occasionally glanced back at him, a faint, mocking smile on her cold, beautiful face, controlling his pace, letting him speed up when she sped up, forcing him to slow when she slowed.

Haruka, panting for breath, gritted his teeth, a furious, vengeful vow forming in his mind. One day, he thought, I will put an ugly bridle on this beautiful horse, in her pink mouth, over her white teeth. I will pull hard on the reins, making her stop with a “whoa,” then crack a whip to make her run, tormenting her back and forth.

And so, the three of them ran all the way to the most remote corridor in the east wing.

As they entered, Haruka saw Ryo and Shiraki standing guard at the intersection. Seeing them, they quickly bowed. “Good day, Young Master. Good day, Mrs. Butler.”

“How long has Kiyohime been inside?” Haruka asked quickly, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“She has been in there for some time,” Shiraki replied.

This is bad, Haruka thought. He was about to go in, but they blocked his path. “The Lady has given orders that we are to stand guard here. No one is to enter or leave.”

Momozawa Ai was about to speak, but Haruka cut in front of her. “It was Mama who sent me. She said she had something to discuss with me.”

Momozawa Ai understood that Haruka was trying to take all the responsibility on himself, to save her from any trouble later. Thinking this, her gaze on him softened considerably.

Ryo and Shiraki hesitated, but seeing Haruka’s firm, unwavering expression, they knew they couldn’t stop him. They obediently stepped aside.

His face a mask of anxiety, Haruka rushed to the room. He didn’t dare to just push the door open. He took a moment to compose his thoughts, then knocked softly. He heard Lady Murasaki say, her voice calm and untroubled, “No need to knock. Come in.”

Only then did he dare to slowly slide the door open.

The room was dark, but he could vaguely make out the intact form of Fujiwara Kiyohime, sitting on the floor, looking up at him.

A smile of profound relief involuntarily spread across Haruka’s face. Beside him, Momozawa Ai found the light switch and flicked it on.

Suddenly faced with the bright, harsh light, Kiyohime couldn’t help but squint, her hand flying up to shield her eyes. It turned out that not only darkness, but also a sudden, unforgiving light, could be just as disorienting.