Her fingertip brushed the glass.
The car window mirrored back the image of a fragile-looking girl.
Ink-black hair cut to the shoulders, a small face, clear eyes—each line drawn with a quiet elegance.
Sakura stared into those mirror-bright, lake-still eyes and lost herself a little.
The flatterers who circled her sister always said the two of them looked alike.
Onee-san liked to hear it; her face would soften into one of those very refined, very small smiles.
“—Sakura is the salvation Heaven gave to Fujino.”
Sakura pressed her lips together, remembering the words her sister had spoken while holding her.
But wasn’t it also the other way round?
Asagami Fujino was the salvation Heaven had given to Asagami Sakura.
Who could have guessed that seven or eight years ago, the famously prosperous Asagami house of Nagano had been on the brink of bankruptcy?
It was the Ryōgi family and the Tohsaka family who had extended their hands.
At the thought of that surname, something in Sakura seemed to thin out, on the edge of snapping.
A faint shadow drew across her eyes.
If the Tohsaka family had been so willing to discard her in their own crisis, then on what grounds had they ever had the standing to extend a hand to the Asagami at all?
She had been like a chip on a scale, set down in the course of a transaction.
A gentle shake at her shoulder roused her.
“Asagami-sama, we’ve arrived.” The maid, looking down at the achingly delicate girl beside her, gave her shoulder a small nudge.
“Ah… thank you.” The sky had darkened.
Sakura hastily gathered her skirt and ran toward the imposing Western-style house ahead of her.
Onee-san would be worried.
As she had expected, a beautiful girl with deep purple hair was already standing in the entryway, waiting.
“I’m sorry—”
Before Sakura could finish, a soft, heart-easing fragrance had already enveloped her, and her cheek met something soft.
Being smothered against Fujino’s chest brought a faint pink to Sakura’s cheeks.
The well-tailored dress fitted closely to Fujino’s figure, the cut accentuating the fullness at her chest.
Her breath—delicate as orchid—drifted forward with its faint scent, and Sakura felt slightly dizzy.
Asagami Fujino looked down at the Sakura she was holding.
“Why are you home so late today?”
Sakura wriggled out of Fujino’s warm embrace, ducked her head a little shyly, and bent to take off her shoes.
The toes of her stockinged feet touched the floor, the cool of the wood drawing a small sigh from her.
Honestly… she had told her sister so many times.
Onee-san always treated her like she was still a small child.
She wasn’t that little anymore.
But—secretly—Sakura’s heart was glad.
The two of them passed through the entryway, one in front of the other.
“Because… after school, someone confessed to me.” Sakura kept her head down, the words a little embarrassed.
Fujino’s footsteps stopped abruptly.
Sakura nearly walked straight into her back, and only just caught herself by wrapping her arms around Fujino’s waist.
Fujino turned, settled her hands on Sakura’s shoulders.
Meeting her sister’s clear, captivating red eyes, Sakura grew flustered.
Onee-san only ever looked like that when she heard this particular kind of news.
“Was it a boy or a girl?” Fujino’s voice was serious.
It was nothing like the soft tone of a moment before.
This was the voice of the head of the Asagami family.
“A… a girl.” Sakura turned her face away from her sister’s gaze.
“It was Satsuki Yumizuka.
She’s been over to our house before.”
In the corner of her vision, Sakura caught sight of someone else.
A girl with a cool, detached expression, her refined features carrying a faint air of remove from the world.
The most striking thing about her, though, was her eyes—sharp and clear, yet utterly still.
Composed.
A presence with the bearing of a swordsman.
She was wearing a kimono in white twisted-thread silk—plain at a glance, yet very valuable—with pale orange trim.
Her hair, glossy as black silk, was bound up casually and falling down her back.
Ryōgi Shiki, the head of the Ryōgi family.
Shiki was simply standing there, and yet the entire room seemed to ring with a clean, cold authority.
“Shiki-nee-san!” Half to slip out of her sister’s grasp, half because she hadn’t seen the woman in days, Sakura twisted free and went over.
Behind her, she could swear she heard a small, dissatisfied click of the tongue from Onee-san—probably along the lines of I knew that Yumizuka girl was eyeing my adorable little sister.
Shiki gave Sakura a careful, cautious hug.
The small body in her arms was light—too light, as though it might come apart in her grip.
The frozen lines of Shiki’s expression thawed by a fraction.
Not a smile, exactly.
But the swordsman’s edge had eased.
She gave Sakura’s back a light pat.
Sakura, ever obedient, withdrew and took a seat on the sofa across from her.
“Try to come home a little earlier next time.
It hasn’t been safe at night lately.” Shiki’s voice held a brief pause; she’d softened her tone, gentle in her own way, in the warning.
Sakura nodded obediently.
Whatever Shiki-nee-san said was always for good reason.
“Are things still not finished on your end?” Like a coded phrase—something Sakura couldn’t quite parse—Fujino sat down beside her.
“Mm.” Shiki nodded, taciturn.
“Do you need a hand?” Fujino took Sakura’s soft, slightly feverish hand into her own and looked at Shiki.
“No.
I can manage on my own,” Shiki replied.
Sakura sat quietly between them.
The Ryōgi were a family that walked both legitimate society and the underworld.
If her sister and Shiki-nee-san chose not to spell something out, that simply meant the time had not come for her to know.
Only… if it was a matter of the underworld, what use could her sister be?
Looking at Fujino’s slender frame, Sakura felt a small flicker of doubt rise in her.
Throwing money at it?
The Ryōgi were hardly short of money themselves.
“If there’s nothing else, I’ll be on my way.” Shiki rose from the sofa.
“Stay for dinner,” Fujino said.
Shiki looked at the two sisters seated together, and slowly sat back down.
“All right.”
Neither Fujino nor Shiki—nor Sakura—was much of a conversation-starter.
Dinner was quiet, but quietly companionable.
Just before leaving the Asagami house, Shiki turned back to Sakura, deeply serious once more.
“Don’t go out at night for the time being.
If you absolutely must… have Asagami go with you.”
“Mm.” Sakura nodded her small head, gave Shiki a brief hug, and watched her go.
“…”
The day’s rounds at last behind her, Sakura emerged from the bath wrapped in a thin towel, leaving a small trail of damp footprints on the floor.
She wasn’t the kind of girl who liked to wander at night.
With Shiki-nee-san having warned her that earnestly, she’d be a good girl about it.
Curled up on her bed, she drew a small phone from her schoolbag.
The screen lit her face in the dark.
Her expression darkened.
A missed call.
From—Satsuki Yumizuka.
Sakura frowned and called back.
No one picked up.
“When I’m in trouble again, Sakura-san—will you help me?” Yumizuka’s clasped hands seemed to rise before her again.
Sakura got up and went to the window.
She stared out at the city sinking into dusk, and bit down hard on her lip.
(Shiki Shiki Shiki Shiki)
(Fujino)