Chapter 6 : A world she never knew

The first rays of morning light streamed through the tall windows of the Fujimoto Clan’s grand estate, painting golden patterns across Sakura’s bedroom floor. Birds chirped quietly outside, but the air inside was still and silent. The curtains fluttered gently as a breeze pushed its way into the room. Sakura’s eyes slowly opened, a soft smile gracing her lips.

It was as though the nightmare from the night before had never happened—the screaming, the pressure, the fire inside her chest—it had all been buried, locked away behind her determined smile. Today was a new day, and she was going to start it strong.

She leaped out of bed, tying her long black hair into a neat ponytail and throwing on her training robes. Her heart beat fast, not from fear, but excitement. There was something comforting about the rhythm of routine. She didn’t want to think about the tears she had cried the night before or how powerless she had felt. Today, she was going to train harder than ever before.

The hallways were quiet as she moved through them, her soft footsteps echoing slightly on the polished wooden floor. As she approached the training hall, she could already hear the sounds of blades clashing and feet stomping.

Inside, Shin was deep into his morning drills. His movements were sharp, graceful, and powerful. Watching him, one could almost forget he was only fifteen. Their father, Haruki Fujimoto, stood nearby, arms crossed as he observed silently, his cold gaze tracking every swing of Shin’s blade.

Sakura hesitated at the entrance for a moment, but then stepped inside.

Haruki turned his eyes toward her. "You’re late."

"I’m sorry," she said, bowing respectfully.

Without a word, she moved to the other side of the hall and began her warm-up. Her strikes were fast, her footwork improving—but no matter how hard she tried, no spark of magic lit her attacks. Her fists were only fists, her kicks only kicks. There was no fire, no wind, no ice. Nothing. Just her own human strength.

She was so focused on her training that she barely noticed when Haruki approached. His voice cut through the air like a blade:

"Show me what you’ve learned."

Sakura froze.

Shin stepped forward. "Father, she’s not ready yet—"

"Quiet, Shin," Haruki snapped. "She is a Fujimoto. She will prove herself or she will fall."

Shin clenched his fists. He wanted to protest more, but Haruki’s presence was suffocating. He couldn’t defy him. Not here. Not now.

Sakura’s legs trembled slightly as she turned to face her father. She bowed again and stepped onto the center mat. Her heart pounded inside her chest. She still couldn’t use magic—what was she supposed to do?

"Prepare yourself," Haruki said coldly, and then, without waiting, he attacked.

Sakura barely dodged the first strike. The next one hit her side hard, knocking the breath out of her. Pain exploded in her ribs. She stumbled back, trying to block, to defend—but Haruki was relentless. Blow after blow rained down on her. She managed to stay on her feet, but just barely.

Then one punch caught her directly in the stomach. She gasped as blood filled her mouth. She fell to her knees, coughing, crimson drops splattering on the wooden floor.

Shin watched in horror, frozen. Every fiber of his being screamed to help her—but his body refused to move.

Haruki stood over her, his expression unreadable. "You are weak. You are unworthy of the Fujimoto name."

Then, without another word, he turned and walked out of the hall, his footsteps echoing in the silence he left behind.

Sakura remained on her knees, head bowed, fists clenched. Her vision was blurry. Not just from the pain—but from shame.

Shin finally moved. He rushed to her side, kneeling beside her. "Are you okay?"

She wiped the blood from her lips and nodded weakly. "I’m fine."

"Sakura—"

"I said I’m fine," she said more firmly. Then she stood, slowly, painfully, and limped away without looking back.

She climbed the spiral staircase that led to the rooftop, each step a struggle. When she reached the top, she pushed open the heavy wooden door and stepped into the open air.

The view was breathtaking. From the rooftop, she could see the entire capital—its majestic towers, the colorful banners of the seven clans fluttering in the wind, the bustling market below where magic knights walked with pride. But beyond the walls, far in the distance, lay something else.

The old district. The homes were small, cracked, and gray. Magic didn’t shine there. Only the powerless lived in those forgotten corners.

Sakura stared at it.

Was life different there? Would people treat her like a person—not a disappointment?

She had never had friends. Not real ones. She had always been the girl who didn’t belong in her own clan.

But maybe, just maybe, there were people like her out there.

A spark of excitement bloomed in her chest.

She made up her mind. She would go. Just for a little while. She’d be careful. She’d return before anyone noticed.

She quickly wrapped herself in a black cloak, pulling the hood over her head. Then, moving silently like a shadow, she slipped out of the estate.

This was her first time stepping outside the Fujimoto territory. It felt strange—the air was different, the colors seemed less vibrant, but more real. She avoided the eyes of the patrolling knights, slipping between alleys and hiding in plain sight. Her heart pounded with each step closer to the city’s edge.

Finally, she crossed the capital walls and entered the old district. The air was heavier, full of smoke and dust, but something about it felt... free.

Children played in the dirt. Merchants shouted out weak deals. People moved without the stiffness of nobility. But their eyes... their eyes were tired.

As she moved through the crowd of the old village, something strange happened.

A scream rang out—not just a startled shout, but a deep, raw cry of pain or fear.

Sakura froze.

Her eyes darted around, trying to locate the source. But the people… they didn’t react.

Vendors kept selling, children kept playing, and the old villagers just continued walking as if nothing had happened.

Like it was normal.

Like screams were part of their everyday life.

Sakura’s brows furrowed. She wanted to ask someone what was going on, but something about the way everyone ignored it made her uneasy. It was as though speaking about it would break some silent rule.

Still, the scream echoed in her mind. A warning? A memory?

She shook her head. No… she didn’t come here to get scared. She came here to see life beyond her own.

Then her eyes landed on the old house.

Big. Abandoned. Broken.

Some villagers nearby whispered:

"That place is haunted."

"No one goes there."

"They say people vanish inside."

Sakura glanced at the house again. Something about it pulled her in. The scream still echoed faintly in her ears, but she pushed the fear aside.

She took a breath.

Sakura ignored them. She felt drawn to it.

She stepped inside.

Despite the daylight, the interior was shrouded in shadow. Dust danced in the air. The floor creaked beneath her feet. Yet... it was peaceful.

She walked quietly, observing the faded walls, the empty frames, the forgotten memories.

She sat for a moment, breathing deeply. No one judged her here. No eyes burned into her. No expectations.

Then she heard it.

A sound from the main hall.

She stood, carefully making her way toward it. Her heartbeat quickened.

A figure.

Tall. Cloaked in black.

Standing in the center of the hall.

Sakura froze.

The figure turned slightly, sensing her presence.

She didn’t speak. Neither did it.

The silence between them was loud—full of questions, of fear, of something unknown.

And then, the figure moved.