The Fake Legend of Princess Mei Mei - Episode 1.3

I can hear my mother and older sister laughing.

“What is it?” Tsukika puffed up even more.

(They always leave me out and have fun together!)

Feeling angry, she stood up and opened the cupboard. When she felt like this, the best thing to do was clean. It made her feel better when the room was tidy.

However, the place where her belongings were kept had been tidied up recently, and there was nothing left. Her sister, who didn’t really care much for possessions, had only a few clothes, so there was nothing to organize.

Not being able to clean made her even more annoyed, and she frowned, stamping her feet.

It couldn’t be helped. Then she decided to do some wiping, and to avoid her mother and sister, she slipped into the next room, went to the back door, filled a bucket with water, and returned.

First, she went to her parents’ bedroom. Recently, her mother had been bedridden, so it wasn’t good to stir up too much dust. She hadn’t cleaned thoroughly, especially the corners. The top of that cupboard was probably dusty.

She wrung out the rag tightly and peeked at the top of the cupboard—there it was. Tsukika smiled slyly.

“…Well, it’s completely black!”

Seeing the rag turn black after just one quick wipe made her smile even more.

“I shouldn’t let it get this dirty. I have to clean it right away.”

Chuckling, she rolled up her sleeves and happily started wiping the top of the cupboard.

Tsukika liked things to be clean. She liked it when the house was neat and tidy.

The best thing was a perfectly organized space with brand-new, clean things, but even if they were old and worn out, if they were polished and their shabby appearance was reduced, she would be satisfied for now.

That’s why, when she was feeling down, cleaning the house mindlessly always calmed her and made her feel happy. Looking around at the clean room, she could forget about her bad mood.

And so, today too, she was doing a big cleaning.

Her sister not giving her mother’s comb, Seishin Aoshi asking her to marry him, having to pick herbs and getting her hands dirty—all those frustrating things would be wiped away along with the dirt in the room.

Before long, a nice scent of mugwort began to drift in.

Her sister was making steamed rice cakes, as promised.

It might be finished soon. She decided to finish cleaning first—and as she moved her hand, she accidentally knocked over a cloth bundle from the far side.

“Oops…”

It must be something of her mother’s. She quickly changed her expression, bent down, and opened the bundle just in case. If there was something fragile inside, it would be terrible.

Inside the cloth was a beautiful box. The design looked more feminine than masculine, so it must be her mother’s.

“What’s inside…?”

When she lightly shook it, it made a clattering sound, so she carefully opened it. If it was broken, she would have to apologize. She was sensible enough to know that.

“…A hairpin and… paper?”

Inside the box was a beautifully crafted hairpin and an old, yellowed, worn-out piece of paper.

The hairpin was a wonderful design with a crescent moon, flowers, and a bird that looked like a heron. It was the same design as the comb her sister had, so it was definitely her mother’s. Tsukika had heard that the items her mother had when she was still a “young lady” had designs with moons and orchids, which was related to her name.

After her mother married and left her family home, she gradually sold her possessions to get money when needed, and now very little remained. This might be the last one.

(I wonder if she would give me this hairpin?)

Since her sister had been given the comb, maybe her mother could give her this hairpin. It would look perfect with her beautiful black hair, especially since the hairpin used white jade.

She thought she might ask for it someday, then checked the box to make sure the delicate work hadn’t been damaged, looking for any broken pieces. It seemed to be perfectly fine.

Relieved, she put the hairpin back into the box and picked up the worn-out paper.

“…Could it be a love letter from Dad?”

It must be something extremely important if it was hidden in a place like this.

Tsukika didn’t know much about how her parents got together, other than that they had run away together, so she felt a surge of curiosity.

At her age, when she was very interested in love stories, she was already excited and unfolded the letter—but it wasn’t something easy to read.

She regretted not learning how to read and write properly. In this remote, backwater village, she hadn’t thought it would be necessary, so she hadn’t studied seriously when her mother taught her.

She couldn’t ask her mother what it said directly.

And she couldn’t ask her serious older sister to read it for her either. She would definitely get scolded.

But somehow, she wanted to know this “mother’s secret.”

After thinking for a while, Tsukika secretly hid the letter in her clothes, wrapped up the box with the hairpin again, and put it back where it had been.

She finished the remaining cleaning, cleaned up the rag and bucket, and then casually went to her mother’s room as if nothing had happened.

“Oh, you’re finally out,” her mother said with a smile when she noticed her.

“Kagetuki made steamed rice cakes for you. They’re still warm, so eat them before they harden.”

“Okay,” Tsukika nodded and sat down in a chair, looking around.

“Where’s my sister?”

Her sister, who had been laughing just a moment ago, was nowhere to be seen.

“She took half of the rice cakes and went to thank Son-san,” her mother said.

“What!?”

Tsukika shouted without thinking, glaring at her mother, who had brought the tea.

“Those are my rice cakes!”

“There are still plenty left,” her mother replied.

“But it’s horrible!”

Tsukika slammed the table angrily, and her mother sighed, looking exasperated.

“…You’re such a glutton.”

Tsukika got even more upset at her mother’s tone.

“My sister promised she’d make them for me! For you and Dad and me! Why did she take half of them?”

“That’s enough,” her mother said with a slight frown, looking irritated rather than worried. “You’re fifteen years old now.”

This wasn’t being selfish. Since her sister had promised to make them for her, what was wrong with her wanting to eat them?

She was mad that her sister had broken her promise, so she grabbed as many rice cakes as she could with both hands.

“Tsukika!”

Her mother called after her, but Tsukika, with an attitude that was far from proper, ran out of the house.

“I’m going to see Meigyoku!”

Ignoring her mother’s call, she ran out. She didn’t even look back.
She ignored the greeting of a neighbor she passed by and ran outside the village.

After a sigh, Kagetuki came back.

“What’s wrong?”

She asked her mother, who looked tired by the door.

“Tsukika ran out,” her mother replied.

“Eh?”

“She said she’s going to Meigyoku’s place.”

At the name, Kagetuki frowned and muttered, “Again?”

Meigyoku was a woman who had originally lived in this village. A few years ago, she had been bought by a brothel for her family and was now famous in a large brothel in the town at the foot of the mountain for her beautiful singing voice.

Tsukika had been very fond of Meigyoku since she was small. Even now, she visited her once a month.

Although she frequently visited the brothel, which could have been unpleasant for the owner, Meigyoku seemed to be watching Tsukika’s beauty closely and was skillfully trying to persuade her.

Of course, her father would never allow such a thing, and he had once had a big argument with the brothel’s owner. However, Tsukika, who loved beautiful things, had been drawn to the glamorous life of the courtesans, and when she turned sixteen, there had been a promise to let her choose for herself.

That’s why her parents, who didn’t want her to be part of that world, were eager about her engagement to Seishin Aoshi. If she got married and had a family, she would surely reject the brothel’s offer.

Tsukika had left in a fit of emotion but had told them where she was going, so they were somewhat relieved.

As usual, after a day or two, her anger would settle, and she would return as if nothing had happened.

With a wry smile, her mother nodded and opened the rice bin to cook the evening porridge.