The Truth 

Yukina forcefully pushed the tissues into his hand, turning her head away, her profile a hard, unforgiving line. “No more nonsense. If you have a question, ask it. Then get out of my house.”

Haruka didn’t waste any more time. The moment of truth was here. “Is Lady Murasaki my biological mother?”

Yukina seemed stunned by his question. She turned back, her eyes raking over him with a strange, almost pitying expression, before she said, her voice dripping with a cold, sharp sarcasm, “You’re doubting your beloved ‘mother’?”

“No… I’m just confused. I really don’t know who my mother is anymore.”

“If Yukishiro Tomoe could see you now, she would be so disappointed.”

“I’ve failed my mother,” Haruka said, the words a raw admission, full of a guilt that felt like a physical weight. “I just need a definite answer from you, so I can stop these thoughts from tormenting me.”

“Lady Murasaki is not your mother,” Yukina said with absolute, unwavering certainty, without a moment’s hesitation.

“You’re sure…”

“I was the one who brought you from the hospital. Are you asking me if I’m sure?” Yukina said, a flicker of impatience in her voice. “You’re so smart. How is it that whenever your mother is mentioned, you lose all sense? Think about it. If Lady Murasaki were really your mother, why would I have been the one to pick you up, and not Momozawa Ai?”

Haruka’s voice trembled. “Then why… why is she being so good to me?”

“Who knows?” Yukina said, her voice cold with a deep, ancient disgust for her sister. “Maybe she wants to use you. Or maybe, because you are her enemy’s child, there is a certain perverse pleasure in brainwashing you into her obedient little pet. Who knows what goes on in her twisted head? In any case, it has nothing to do with me.”

“But I feel like she really does care about me,” Haruka said in a small, lost voice.

Yukina looked at him and saw a painful reflection of her former self. She laughed coldly. “Yes. That is her talent. Making everyone believe her every word.”

Haruka let out a long, slow breath. “In any case, thank you for telling me the truth. I can finally be at ease.”

“Then you can stop calling her ‘Mama’.”

“No. Now I can call her ‘Mama’ with an easy heart.”

Yukina was flabbergasted. She grabbed Haruka by the shoulders and shook him, as a squirrel would shake a pinecone. “Snap out of it! Lady Murasaki is not your mother!”

“I know,” Haruka said, his voice quiet but firm. “But she is very good to me. And she helped me bury my mother.” He continued, his voice a low, almost dreamlike murmur, “I can see that she is sincere with me. I have no way to repay her. All I can do is call her ‘Mama’.” He whispered, “I’m so stupid. She was hinting at it all along; I should have guessed. I shouldn’t have chased after the truth. This will only disappoint her. But I just couldn’t stop myself.”

Yukina was incensed on behalf of Yukishiro Tomoe, her voice rising with a protective fury. “Lady Murasaki is your mother’s enemy, and you’re going to call her ‘Mama’? You’re holding a viper in your arms!”

“When I think about it, Lady Murasaki has never done anything to wrong my mother or me,” Haruka said, speaking his true, confused thoughts. “She is as good to me as a mother. That is why I am willing to call her ‘Mama’.”

“You.. you’re done for! You’ve been completely bewitched by her!” Yukina’s chest heaved with anger and a profound, tragic sense of helplessness. “I should have never brought you from the hospital.”

“That’s one of the questions I wanted to ask,” Haruka said, his gaze steady. “Why did you bring me to the Fujiwara house?”

Yukina hesitated. She could either say nothing, or she could tell the truth; she disdained lying. Finally, she spoke, her voice softening. “Because I felt your mother was a bit like me. And I felt you were a bit like me, too. So I brought you back. I thought that with me here, I could protect you, let you live a carefree life. I just never imagined Lady Murasaki would place such importance on you.”

Haruka nodded, finally understanding her motivations. He forced a small smile. “I can understand you seeing a resemblance between yourself and my mother. But what is the resemblance between you and me?”

Yukina just stared at him, her eyes full of a deep, unspoken sorrow. After a long silence, she suddenly hugged him, a fierce, desperate embrace, as if she were hugging the girl she had once been, alone and terrified in the rain all those years ago. “Don’t trust her,” she whispered into his hair.

She slowly released him, her eyes pure and clear. “If you do not leave the Fujiwara house,” she said in a small, firm voice, “I will correct your twisted thinking. I am the one who is right. I will bring you back from her side.”

Haruka knew she was concerned for him, but her words felt strange. It’s not that dramatic, he thought. He felt Yukina had some deep, fundamental misunderstandings about her sister. In his eyes, Lady Murasaki was like a reserved, lonely mother, always hiding her love for her family. He thought that one day, when he had the chance, he would help the two of them reconcile.

Suddenly, a cold dread washed over him, a thought so terrible it made his blood run cold. If I am still Tomoe’s biological son, then that means Kiyohime is not Lady Murasaki’s daughter. But then why would Lady Murasaki want to kill her?

He had thought it was because their identities had been switched, that Kiyohime was the daughter of her rival, and so Murasaki wanted her dead. But now that it had been confirmed he was not her son, then Kiyohime should be her daughter. What was her motive for wanting to kill Kiyohime?

A terrible, monstrous suspicion began to form in his mind, but he couldn’t accept it. “Yukina-san,” he asked, his voice trembling, “whose daughter is Kiyohime?”

Yukina’s face slowly turned to ice, colder and sharper than the winter wind outside.

“You don’t have to say it,” Haruka said, his suspicion now a sickening certainty. He didn’t want to hear the answer anymore.

“I have to tell you. This is one of the reasons I hate this family,” Yukina said, her voice a low, emotionless monotone, determined to make him understand the true, twisted nature of the Fujiwara household.

“Fujiwara Kiyohime is my half-sister. We have the same mother.”

Even though he had anticipated it, hearing her say it out loud was still unbelievable. A wave of emotion, hot and violent, rose within him, choking him.

The “Second Young Mistress” was truly the second young mistress.

“Then Kiyohime’s father is…” Haruka’s voice trembled, unable to control his emotions.

“It is just as you have guessed,” Yukina said, her own voice flat and dead. “Kiyohime’s father is also your father.”

“That scum is not my father!” Haruka bit out, his voice full of a sudden, violent rage that shattered his carefully constructed composure. “I have no father! Only a mother!”

He couldn’t accept the truth. He could no longer control himself, his voice thick with a profound, suffocating hatred. “He got my mother pregnant, then immediately abandoned us to go and live a life of luxury with Lady Murasaki. And now you’re telling me he was also sleeping with the Old Mistress and had a child with her?”

He simply could not, would not, accept it.

“I understand your pain, because I, too, found it hard to accept. But first, I must correct one point.”

“Your father and my sister, Lady Murasaki, never had a relationship. They never even held hands,” Yukina said, her voice quiet but firm, delivering the final, devastating blow. “All these years, she has been a scapegoat for our mother, and she has raised Kiyohime, her half-sister, her shame, for thirteen years.”