Speculation 

“What… what did you say?”

“I said: Lady Murasaki and your father have no relationship at all. Their marriage was a sham, a beautiful, elaborate lie designed to cover for the sordid, unforgivable affair between him and the Old Mistress.”

Haruka was deeply, profoundly shocked by Yukina’s words. Even with his quick, agile mind, his brain felt like a thick, useless paste. For a moment, he didn’t know what to say, how to breathe.

After a long, suffocating silence, he finally managed to ask, his voice a hoarse whisper, “How do you know all this?”

Yukina then told him the reason, her own voice flat and weary.

It turned out that on the day Haruka had first arrived at the Fujiwara household, the Old Mistress had summoned Yukina to her bedside and had, in secret, told her many things. Of course, the Old Mistress was not foolish enough to tell her the whole, unvarnished truth. She narrated the events from her own self-serving perspective, downplaying her own role, whitewashing her actions, and adding many non-existent, dramatic details at key moments, all with the aim of misleading Yukina, of planting a specific, poisonous seed.

If it had been anyone else, they might have fallen for the Old Mistress’s trap. But unfortunately for her, the listener was Yukina. Firstly, she already harbored a deep-seated, simmering resentment for both her mother and her sister, and so she naturally suspected the worst. Secondly, she already knew many of the Fujiwara family’s hidden, ugly secrets. Even if she hadn’t thought about them in detail before, after hearing the Old Mistress’s twisted story and adding her own quiet speculations, by a grim stroke of luck, she had guessed something that was very, terrifyingly close to the truth.

There were still many details Yukina didn’t understand, but she was certain of three things: the Old Mistress and Haruka’s father had had an affair; Lady Murasaki and his father’s marriage was a complete sham; and the Old Mistress and his father had, together, given birth to Fujiwara Kiyohime.

Unwilling to hide anything from Haruka, she told him everything, not omitting a single, painful word.

After listening, Haruka felt that many of the details in her story were a bit far-fetched, based mostly on her own pained speculation. But the three main points she had made felt like solid, unshakable facts. He just couldn’t understand why the Old Mistress would have wanted Lady Murasaki, her own daughter, to marry his father.

But at least Lady Murasaki was innocent of infidelity. For some reason, this thought brought him a strange, profound sense of relief. At the same time, he felt a deep, aching sympathy for her. To have been forced to raise the daughter of her own mother and her nominal “husband” for thirteen long years, and to raise her as her own “daughter”… It was a wrong that no one, not just Lady Murasaki, could have possibly endured. No wonder she wanted to kill Kiyohime. To see that “daughter” in front of her every single day, what a complex and agonizingly painful feeling that must be. If Haruka hadn’t arrived that day, even if she had softened for a moment, she would have surely, sooner or later, had the thought of getting rid of Kiyohime again. Even though she had spared Kiyohime for Haruka’s sake, to be able to say the words “start over” showed the incredible breadth of her magnanimity.

Haruka’s heart ached for Lady Murasaki, and at the same time, he pitied Kiyohime. “Does Kiyohime know about this?” he asked in a small voice.

“She doesn’t know a thing.”

“Will she find out the truth one day…?”

“That is what I’m worried about,” Yukina said, her voice heavy. “Including you, no more than five people know the truth. You and I, Lady Murasaki and the Old Mistress, and the head butler, Momozawa. I don’t want a sixth person to know.”

“I will be as silent as the grave,” Haruka promised.

Yukina sighed. “I believe you. I have only told you. Those two will certainly not speak of their own sordid affairs. The only one who might is the head butler. That is what worries me.”

“The head butler is not that kind of person. If you are worried, I will go and remind her.”

“The head butler is a woman of discretion,” Yukina said. “For thirteen years, the household has been calm. She knows what can and cannot be said. I’m just afraid she might ‘accidentally’ let it slip.”

“I understand,” Haruka said.

“My… her… sist… Kiyohime…” Yukina struggled to find the right word, the familiar term now a lie. “We are the ones who made her what she is now. We have no right to control her. I just hope she never finds out the truth.”

Haruka thought of Kiyohime’s difficult, capricious personality, and felt a mixture of helplessness and a deep, new pity. He knew nothing about the Old Mistress and could only place all the blame on his father. The deep-seated hatred he already felt for the man now swelled and overflowed, and he wished he could smash the vessel that was his “father’s” memory into a thousand jagged pieces.

Having said so much, Yukina was exhausted and leaned back against the sofa, her face pale.

Haruka saw her press a hand to her chest, a look of deep sorrow on her face. His heart ached for her. “You don’t have to worry about Kiyohime,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “I will help take care of her.”

Yukina looked at him. “You should take care of yourself first.”

Haruka feigned indignation and sat on the armrest of her sofa. “Do you think all I can do is cry?”

He shouldn’t have mentioned it. The reminder of him pretending to cry earlier made her want to laugh and scold him at the same time. “”You little devil, all you know is how to feign tears for sympathy.”

Haruka then told a few more silly jokes, making her laugh with a mixture of exasperation and amusement, and for a moment, the heavy shadows in the room seemed to lift.

“Just shut up and eat your food,” she said, pushing the chopsticks back toward him with a small, genuine smile. “And get out of here when you’re done.”

“Then I’ll have to eat very slowly,” Haruka said, his mouth full of curry. Yukina let out a soft laugh. Having Haruka here with her made her happy. She was not used to being alone. She hated the Fujiwara family and disdained the people on the outside, and so she had chosen to shut herself away at home, a princess in a self-made tower. But in her heart, she wished for someone to keep her company. The boy she had brought from the hospital was the perfect candidate.

Now that there was someone to laugh and joke with, a natural sense of comfort washed over her. She watched Haruka eat and chat, telling silly, unrealistic stories, and thought, He’s just a clever child. She took a tissue from under the table to wipe his mouth, already thinking of him as half a younger brother.

She didn’t know that Haruka was deliberately saying foolish things to amuse her, to make her feel better and forget, even for a moment, about all these awful matters.

As she wiped his mouth, Haruka’s heart softened. But he himself was still trapped in this messy, tangled affair, unable to break free. He sighed inwardly. I wish everyone could forget about all this, and I could be the only one to bear the headache.

Just then, the doorbell rang with a sharp, insistent “ding-dong.” He looked at the door in surprise. Who could that be?

Yukina was also surprised. Since the maids were not allowed to enter, almost no one ever came here. She glanced at Haruka. “I seem to have a lot of guests today.”

As she spoke, she went to open the door.

Haruka leaned forward, trying to see who it was, but Yukina was blocking the doorway, her body a stiff silhouette against the light. Left with no choice, he got up and walked over. And then he saw the visitor—Fujiwara Kiyohime.