The Fake Legend of Princess Mei Mei - Episode 4.6
By the time the raging fire had completely died down, the doctor finally arrived.
By then, Getsuran had already passed away peacefully in her sleep. The doctor confirmed her death and told Keigetsu and the gathered villagers, “It seems my role here is already over.”
He explained that the direct cause of death was being crushed by the burning beams, and her wounds were beyond saving. Inhaling smoke and embers had also played a role, but in any case, she wouldn’t have survived.
After treating Shugetsu’s severe burns on his hands and back, as well as tending to the minor burns of the villagers who had helped put out the fire, the doctor left, making his way down the mountain in the middle of the night.
“For now, let’s lay Getsuran’s body in the village square.”
The village chief suggested that it would be better than leaving her near the burned ruins.
Everyone agreed. Since Shugetsu’s hands were burned, the other men carefully placed Getsuran’s body on a wooden board and carried her to the square, where the festival bonfire still burned.
“How about we hold a vigil here tonight and have the funeral tomorrow?”
Keigetsu stood frozen in shock, unable to process the sudden tragedy. The village chief turned to him and asked gently. Keigetsu, tears streaming down his face, stared back at him in confusion.
The chief let out a small sigh and then looked at Shugetsu, who had just arrived with the help of others.
“Shugetsu, what do you think? Should we hold the funeral tomorrow?”
Shugetsu frowned slightly at the question.
“I know this was all so sudden, and it’s hard to accept. But in this weather… She still looks peaceful now, but it would be sad if her body started to decay.”
It was a reasonable suggestion. Shugetsu looked at Getsuran’s body, illuminated by the bonfire.
Given the heat of the past few days, her body would start to decompose quickly. At most, they had three days.
The village chief, sensing Shugetsu’s hesitation, stood by his side and gazed at the still, lifeless form of Getsuran.
“…Let’s send her to the gods and Buddha as soon as possible.”
His voice was filled with kindness. Shugetsu took in the warmth of his words, nodded with tears in his eyes, and accepted the decision.
Keigetsu, who had been watching his father and the village chief in a daze, suddenly stepped forward and grabbed his father’s bandaged hand.
“But Gekka isn’t here.”
His tearful voice made Shugetsu grimace. But Keigetsu continued.
“We’re going to have Mother’s funeral… without Gekka? Without even letting her say goodbye?”
Isn’t that cruel? Keigetsu asked.
Gekka had missed their mother’s final moments, and now she wouldn’t even get a proper farewell. Even though she had disappeared on her own, it was still too unfair.
Mother had always worried about Gekka. That’s why Keigetsu believed she should be present for the funeral.
Shugetsu understood. He wanted that too. But no one knew where Gekka was. There was nothing they could do.
With a sigh, he pulled Keigetsu close and tried to console him. Keigetsu resisted slightly, but when his father patted his back gently, he finally gave in and nodded.
“I’ll stay awake, so you should get some rest.”
Shugetsu sat beside Getsuran’s body and spoke to Keigetsu. Summer nights were short, but staying awake all night would be bad for his health.
“Then you should sleep, Father. I’ll keep watch.”
Keigetsu wiped his tears and shook his head. Shugetsu also shook his head firmly.
Just as Keigetsu was about to argue, Shunmei called out to him.
“My mother thinks… you and your father should have some time alone with her.”
Shunmei gestured toward him hesitantly.
If he said that, then Keigetsu also wanted to spend time with his mother. It was their final farewell.
But… Keigetsu bit his lip and nodded.
His father was hurting even more. This was the least he could do for him.
“Come rest at my house, okay?”
Shunmei hugged Keigetsu and gently guided him away from the square.
“You might not be able to sleep, but just lying down and closing your eyes will help.”
Keigetsu nodded and thanked him.
He was a little worried about leaving his father behind, but he accepted Shunmei’s kindness and went to his house. There, his friend’s family comforted him and thanked him for his efforts in putting out the fire.
“We all helped each other,” they said.
Feeling relieved, Keigetsu lay down in Shunmei’s room.
Morning came before Keigetsu even knew if he had slept. He heard the rooster crowing and the village starting to stir.
Shunmei’s mother had prepared food for both him and Shugetsu. Keigetsu bowed deeply in gratitude and carried the meal to his father in the square.
Shugetsu was still sitting beside Getsuran in the same position as the night before.
“Shunmei’s mother made porridge for us.”
When Keigetsu held out the bowl and spoon, his father almost refused, but then he accepted it, perhaps realizing that it would be rude to waste the kind gesture.
Keigetsu sat beside him, making sure he ate.
Even after a night had passed, Getsuran looked unchanged. Thanks to avoiding severe burns, her face remained peaceful, as if she were only sleeping.
But knowing that he would never hear her kind voice again, Keigetsu buried his face in his knees and wept.
As the village gathered to help with the funeral preparations, they offered their condolences to Shugetsu and Keigetsu, their faces filled with sorrow. Shugetsu bowed and thanked them for their kindness.
Because wild animals like stray dogs and foxes could dig up graves, burials in this area were usually done after cremation.
While preparing the funeral pyre, Keigetsu shed tears.
“She died in a fire… and now we’re burning her again…”
Watching his daughter cry as she arranged the wood, Shugetsu gave her a complicated look.
“I know, dear,” said Madam Son, wiping the soot from Getsuran’s face and applying red tint to her lips as a final gesture.
A monk arrived just as the funeral pyre was completed. Seishin had gone to fetch him early in the morning.
Since Keigetsu and Shugetsu had lost their belongings in the fire, they had no mourning clothes. Their colorful festival outfits felt inappropriate for the solemn occasion.
“Don’t worry about it,” Shugetsu said in a strained voice.
Keigetsu turned to look at his father, who winced slightly—perhaps from the pain of his burns.
“Your mother loved that outfit on you. She said it suited you well. So don’t feel bad.”
His words were blunt and hard to understand sometimes. But remembering how happy Mother had looked when she saw him in this outfit, Keigetsu quietly nodded.
The monk’s deep voice recited the sutras as the village men lit their torches.
Mother’s body was gently engulfed in flames.
“Keigetsu.”
As she watched the fire and let her tears fall, her father whispered to her.
“Do you have Mother’s comb?”
Keigetsu nodded and touched the sash where she always kept it.
Before she passed, Mother had mentioned that she had something important to tell them—something she would share when Father returned.
“What was she going to say?” Keigetsu asked.
Shugetsu’s reaction was clear—he was shaken. It was the first time Keigetsu had ever seen him like that.
Just then, the children playing in the village shouted.
“Keigetsu! There’s a visitor!”
Turning to look, Keigetsu gasped.
“Enshou?”
The young man in front of her raised a hand and smiled.