Three post towns away from the Emperor's seat, along the highway overlooking the bay, two-story tea houses stand in a row. Slightly apart on a hill sits a tea house with a humble bamboo blind, yet it is more crowded than any other. "Thank you! Please come again!" The one calling out with a voice as bright as a cloudless sky is the poster girl, Kame. It has been a year since she started working here. Spilling tea, breaking plates—the owner's early struggles with her are now just a laughing matter. It didn't take long for rumors to spread of her brave smile that follows every customer until they disappear around the corner. Now, travelers even call the place "Kame-ya." Today, as always, Kame served tea and dumplings, nodding along to the customers' stories. After the rush subsided, the owner suggested she rest, but Kame insisted on calling in more guests. Suddenly, a cool, rhythmic sound approached. Chirin, chirin. It was the sound of a wind chime, signaling a courier. Kame's face lit up. She rushed out to meet him. "Here, from your usual person," the courier said, handing over a letter. Kame pressed it to her nose, smelling the faint scent of aloeswood and ink. It was from her friend Asa, a scribe in the Ooku. The sound of the chime reminded Kame of a medicine seller she met a year ago in the Ooku—a man who carried a mysterious scale that rang whenever it tilted. Though her time in the Ooku was short, it was unforgettable. Asa's letters were written in riddles to bypass the Ooku's secrecy rules. Kame went to the back of the shop to read. The letter began: "Hey, Kame-chan. We had a 'flower viewing' in the Ooku recently."
It started with the repairs of the Nagatsubone quarters. The Mononoke incident that occurred during the Midai-sama's childbirth had left scars on the "Woman's Castle." Asa had been buried in paperwork for the repairs until her fingers bled. Once the buildings were restored, Lady Botan called Asa, saying, "We lack heart." She explained that while the buildings were fixed, the women had lost their precious belongings—kimonos, combs, and items that supported their spirits. Asa remembered how much a simple comb meant to Kame. She suggested a market where the women could exchange and gift items. Lady Botan agreed.
In the Great Hall, the high-ranking concubines and the Midai-sama gathered. The Midai-sama, seemingly changed for the better since the serpent incident, supported the idea. She proposed that the market be a "Flower Viewing" festival. Since the real cherry blossoms had already fallen, they would display kimonos and fabrics with floral patterns to enjoy.
"This truly is a flower viewing," the guard Sakashita remarked to Asa as they looked at the courtyard. Vibrant robes and fabrics with plum, peach, and chrysanthemum patterns fluttered in the breeze. Asa had worked tirelessly to organize the event, setting up stalls and stages for music. The twins of the Mizorogi family thanked Asa, saying it felt like walking through a dream. Asa felt a deep sense of relief; even in the Ooku, where sorrow never ends, laughter could still bloom. "I wish you could have seen this, Kame-chan."
Reading the letter, Kame could see the scene vividly. Asa's letter ended with a note of regret: they couldn't find the Medicine Seller to invite him. As Kame finished reading, she heard it—chirin. She ran to the front, but the visitor was gone. The owner mentioned a strange man had just bought a rice ball. Kame ran to the crossroads and shouted into the distance, "Medicine Seller-san! Thank you very much!" From somewhere on the wind, a clear chime echoed back. Chirin, chirin.
