The heavy curtains were drawn aside, and the warm morning sun spilled across the room like flowing water, washing it through with light.
Sakura was curled up in Asagami Fujino’s arms.
The instant the sun touched her, her small shoulders gave a faint shiver and she burrowed a little deeper into Fujino’s embrace.
The girl’s soft, childish breathing rose and fell.
The fine, gentle sound of it was small — but to Asagami Fujino’s ears, perfectly clear.
She stroked Sakura’s soft black hair, caught up a strand, and trailed its tip lightly back and forth across Sakura’s cheek.
“Mn…”
Out of her throat came a soft, slurred little whimper, threaded with the wet, drowsy quality of just-waking sound.
Her eyes shifted, long lashes giving a small flutter like trembling feathers.
The clear, sky-blue eyes she opened were still hazy with sleep; that bewildered, drowsy look made Asagami Fujino unable to help herself — she caught Sakura’s small ear between her fingers and gently kneaded her cheek.
“Good morning… Big Sis…” Sakura murmured, soft as wool, arms looping around Fujino’s waist, her small head tucking against Fujino’s shoulder to nuzzle once.
She looked over at Shigure, who was smiling by the curtain.
“Good morning… Big Sis Shigure…”
Bathed in the golden light, Sakura’s head dipped, slowly, as if she were about to drift back to sleep at any moment.
Asagami Fujino indulgently rumpled Sakura’s hair, leaving the long black mane in cheerful disarray.
She pushed herself up and gently drew Sakura into her embrace.
Shigure stepped in at just the right moment, holding out Sakura’s change of clothes — and caught the girl’s slender wrist to lift her arm, making it easier for Fujino to dress her.
Sakura felt a small bloom of embarrassment.
The cool air against her soft skin made her want to burrow right back into her sister’s arms.
Fujino slid the inner garment onto Sakura with practiced ease, drew her close, and started to fasten the row of buttons.
She frowned.
Sakura, it seemed… had grown a little again.
The buttons no longer quite closed.
“Mm.” Sakura, like an affectionate little nameless kitten, nuzzled against Fujino.
Her mind was still half-mist, but she breathed in deeply by habit, reaching back for the buttons herself and tugging hard to fasten them.
Seeing how practiced she was at it, Asagami Fujino’s brow drew down — and she flicked a sharp little knuckle-rap to the top of Sakura’s head.
The water-blue eyes snapped wide.
Sakura tilted her head and looked up at her sister, faintly aggrieved.
“Big Sis?”
“How many times have I told you — if your clothes don’t fit anymore, we replace them.” Asagami Fujino caught Sakura’s cheeks between thumb and finger and rocked them back and forth, the little flushed-pink face going alternately white and pink under the pinch.
She wasn’t really putting force into it, of course.
After all… she couldn’t bear to.
Watching the two of them, Shigure turned her face back toward the sunlight, the corners of her mouth ticking up.
In the morning light her indigo eyes looked translucent — and with her throat now bare, the stone that had been weighing on her heart for so long seemed, at last, to have been set down.
“I can never do anything about you.” As Sakura looked bashful, Fujino instructed Shigure to go and find some of her own old clothes.
Sakura’s cheeks were a vivid pink; in the sun, the tips of her ears practically glowed crimson.
Wearing my sister’s old clothes — isn’t that just too embarrassing…
…
Through the fabric of her dress, Sakura’s hands rested on the dark hilt that hung at her chest, her cheeks bright with a sweet peach-pink.
She had taken her leave of her busy sister and Shigure, and was walking, alone, slowly toward the shopping street.
She tucked a stray strand of black hair behind her ear and gave a small, uncomfortable wriggle.
She could almost still catch the faint scent of her sister on her clothes.
She stared down at her own shadow, her head still foggy.
She wanted someone to walk with her.
Sakura fished her phone from her bag, scrolled down the long contact list, and dialed Yumizuka Satsuki.
The call connected instantly, as if Satsuki had been waiting by her phone the whole time.
“Sakura~” came the rising lilt from the other end.
But — to Sakura’s mild surprise — when she suggested they go shopping together, Satsuki on the other end stammered, hemmed, and finally turned her down.
It seemed she was occupied with something; Sakura could catch a faint, controlled panting between her words, like someone in the middle of training.
Sakura, considerate as ever, said she understood.
Only — and she wasn’t sure if it was her imagination — she could have sworn she’d heard the familiar clack of blades in the background, and a man’s voice.
Almost like… Big Sis Shiki’s house steward, Akitaka Suzurigi.
But surely it was just her imagination.
How could Yumizuka Satsuki possibly have anything to do with Big Sis Shiki?
Sakura hung up.
She was playing the old game of stepping on her own shadow in the sunlight when, suddenly, the world in front of her seemed to ripple — and a pair of fair, slender legs in sandals stepped into her view.
She came to a slow stop and looked up.
There were only two people in her world who could cause that particular kind of small disturbance.
And if she hadn’t guessed wrong…
At the entrance to the shopping street, Sakura saw a familiar face she rarely saw.
The girl wore a snow-white sleeveless sundress, the neckline ringed with rich black lace.
She looked about Sakura’s own age, with a face of cool, exquisite poise and a body whose lines flowed in graceful curves.
Compared with Sakura, of course, just the tiniest sliver less so.
After all, judging by what she’d seen at school, Sakura could declare with quiet confidence that no one her age was even in the running.
The girl turned slowly.
Her ink-black hair fell to her ankles, stirring lightly in the breeze, and her crimson eyes glowed like higanbana in full bloom.
The fine, sculpted face turned toward Sakura — and then, just for a moment, showed the slightest trace of awkwardness.
The last person she wanted to see right now was Sakura.
“Big Sis Rouge.” Sakura had already broken into a small trot, latching herself onto one of the girl’s arms.
The girl was named Altrouge Brunestud, and she had moved into the neighborhood a few years ago to stay for a while.
In Sakura’s memory, even back then, she had already looked exactly as she did now.
Apparently because of some family abroad, Altrouge wasn’t always in Tokyo.
Feeling the soft press where Sakura’s arm had hooked into hers, the cool, untouchable look on Altrouge’s face softened, bit by bit.
She raised her other hand and ruffled Sakura’s head.
Sakura had grown thoroughly used to being head-ruffled by people she knew; she rubbed her head lightly against Altrouge’s palm.
“It’s been a while, Big Sis Rouge.” Sakura held tight to Altrouge’s arm.
“Mn.” The light, elegant voice — like a princess’s.
The girl gave a small nod.
“It’s been a while.”
Sakura nuzzled against her, and meanwhile her eyes flicked here and there.
Catching the small movement, Altrouge gave a faintly resigned sigh.
“Cath—” she began, and then, as if she’d suddenly remembered something, her voice tipped lighter.
“Fou.”
A small white puffball launched itself out of the shadows like a bouncing little rocket and pounced at Sakura’s face.
A creature like a small fluffy fox, adorable, its long ears flushed pink inside.
Its features were a touch rabbit-like, too.
But by Altrouge’s own description, it was her demon hound.
Sakura caught the white puffball in her outstretched hands; its small, soft tongue darted out and licked her cheek.
It tickled.
Sakura couldn’t help laughing.
Seizing the moment, the creature scrambled around behind her and perched on her shoulder, nuzzling at her gently.
That bright, knowing gaze — as if it possessed a mind of its own.
Sakura held onto Altrouge’s arm and let her eyes narrow in a smile.
Watching the passersby flowing this way and that along the street, she had the faintest sense that all those crisscrossing shadows looked, today, just a shade blacker than usual.
(Mi)