The Fujimoto estate stood tall under the night sky, its towering walls bathed in the silver glow of the moon. The lanterns lining the garden flickered softly, casting golden shadows across the stone pathways. It was a night of quiet luxury and hidden tension. The Fujimoto family was gathering for a dinner that meant more than food—tonight was about pride, legacy, and power.
Inside the grand hall, the long dinner table was already set with polished silverware and steaming dishes of the finest food. Haruki Fujimoto, the current head of the Fujimoto family, stood near the entrance in his usual commanding silence. Beside him, his wife—elegant yet cold—wore a stern expression as if carved from porcelain. And standing silently at the side was Shin, calm, composed, a reflection of the power and restraint expected from the clan's heir.
Their guests had arrived: Haruki’s younger brother, Daigo Fujimoto, and his family. Daigo was shorter than Haruki, stockier, but his eyes glimmered with calculation and jealousy. His wife, Kaede, had a face too sharp to seem kind, and her smile was the type that cut like a blade wrapped in silk. Their two daughters followed—Meika, the eldest at thirteen, graceful and confident, and little Rin, the same age as Sakura. Rin’s smirk was almost identical to her mother’s.
Polite greetings were exchanged, but the atmosphere was cold beneath the surface. Rivalries in the Fujimoto clan never died—they only changed faces.
Meanwhile, away from the warmth of the great hall, Sakura stood in the training yard. Her hands were blistered. Her knees stained with dirt. But her eyes burned with a soft, stubborn fire.
“One more try,” she whispered.
Her hand moved through the air in a swift motion, just as Shin had taught her. She chanted quietly, focusing all her energy…
Nothing. Only the rustle of leaves in the night wind.
She stared at her hand, then the moon, then clenched her fists. She was exhausted, her legs shaking, but she couldn’t stop. Not yet.
Then something clicked in her memory.
“Oh no—the dinner!”
She darted to her room, kicking off her training clothes and fumbling through her wardrobe for something clean. Her cheeks were smudged with dust, her hair wild with sweat, but she did her best to clean up. She tugged on a simple kimono, combed her hair quickly, and ran barefoot down the long corridor, heart pounding with more fear than any duel had ever given her.
She reached the hall just as the family was beginning to sit.
Her mother’s eyes narrowed. “You’re late.”
“I’m sorry, Mother,” Sakura said, bowing quickly.
“Clean yourself properly next time,” her mother hissed under her breath.
Sakura bit the inside of her cheek but nodded. She quietly took the seat beside Shin.
Despite everything, a small smile formed on her lips. He smiled back. Just that simple gesture made her shoulders loosen slightly.
Across the table, Daigo glanced at her and chuckled. “Haruki, your daughter looks… spirited.”
“Too spirited for her own good,” her mother replied flatly. “Perhaps it would do her well to watch how Rin behaves.”
Sakura said nothing. She stared down at her food, not because she wasn’t hungry, but because she was afraid her voice would tremble if she spoke.
As the adults exchanged pleasantries and carefully veiled insults, Sakura and Shin kept mostly silent. Occasionally, he’d slide a portion of food to her plate when no one was looking. She would giggle softly, and he'd simply say, "You're going to need your strength."
After dinner, the guests began to move toward their assigned rooms. The long hallways of the estate echoed with their footsteps and hushed conversation.
Sakura was heading to her room when she heard someone behind her.
“Sakura.”
She turned. It was Rin.
“Hi,” Sakura said gently.
Rin tilted her head. “Still can’t use magic?”
Sakura stiffened. “I’m still learning.”
Rin grinned with cruel amusement. “You’re already ten. You do know the family competition is next week, right? Think you can win anything?”
Sakura’s smile didn’t falter, but her heart sank. “My brother says I’ll be ready.”
“Your brother’s different. Everyone knows Shin was a prodigy. He won his first tournament at ten. You? You’re still just… ordinary.”
Sakura stayed quiet.
Rin leaned closer. “Are you even really part of the Fujimoto clan? You don’t look like us. You don’t act like us. And let’s be honest… you don’t have our strength.”
“Maybe not yet,” Sakura said softly.
Rin smirked. “Let’s see if you can even survive your first match. Maybe then we’ll believe you belong.”
She turned on her heel and walked away, laughing.
Before Sakura could move, another figure stepped out from the shadows.
Shin. He had been listening. He didn’t say anything at first. Just walked up to her and stood beside her in silence.
“She’s wrong,” he said at last.
Sakura looked up, surprised. “You’re not ordinary.”
“I’m not strong either.”
“Not yet.”
They stood in silence for a moment. Then Meika—the older cousin—appeared from the corridor.
“Rin’s got a sharp tongue,” she said. “But she shouldn’t have said that. I apologize on her behalf, Shin.”
Shin gave a respectful nod.
Meika turned to Sakura, gave a brief smile, and walked off.
Shin looked back at Sakura. “She’s wrong, you know. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone but yourself.”
Sakura’s eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them away. “I’m okay,” she whispered. “I just need a little rest.”
“You sure?”
She nodded. “Tomorrow, I’ll train harder. I’ll get stronger. I’ll prove I belong here… even if it kills me.”
He put a hand on her head, ruffling her hair. “You won’t have to do it alone.”
And as Sakura walked away, the corridor felt colder, darker, but her heart beat with a warmth that refused to fade.
She would face the world. She would face Rin. The competition. Her parents. Everyone. Even her fears.
Because deep down, a spark still burned.
A single ember in the dark. Waiting to become fire.
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