Matou Sakura stared blankly at Roland, carefully shifting his head so that he could lie more comfortably on her lap.
She didn't understand what had happened to him, but he had given her a command to wait. So she waited.
Thinking, doubting, and making decisions, these were things Matou Zouken's education had taught her to abandon.
But it wasn't all her grandfather's fault. After all, Sakura was an abandoned child.
No one needs me.
That was the feeling that defined Sakura Matou's past year. Before being sent to the Matou family, her father had sternly told her never to call herself Tōsaka again. To avoid suspicion, she was forbidden from getting close to her sister or her mother, even if she happened to see them.
[T/N: Poor Sakura...]
Because she was now part of the Matou family.
And after arriving, the truth was laid bare. Matou Zouken may have promised not to torture her physically, but he inflicted pain in other ways, mentally, quietly, and with precision.
He didn't even need to unleash monsters. Reality itself was his weapon.
Zouken had told her clearly why the Tōsaka family gave her away, what her future held in the Matou household, and what would happen if she resisted.
No one would come for her. Not her father. Not her mother. Not her sister. No one.
Sakura Matou had stood at the edge of a cliff every day, teetering on the brink. And then, the final push had come, from the one person she still had hope in: Matou Kariya.
He'd said he wanted to take her back to the Tōsaka family.
Did he even understand what that meant?
The child named Matou Sakura had already touched on the Matou family's magical secrets. In the world of magi, sharing knowledge of a family's magic publicly equaled bloodshed. It was a fight to the death.
Even Sakura knew this.
The Tōsaka family would never accept her. They'd send her back. And even if they didn't, the Matou family would keep her under constant surveillance.
She would be a ghost with no future. A threat. An outsider.
But she couldn't even refuse.
That kind gesture shattered her.
Her grandfather had given her a final proclamation:
Her magical education would cease.
If Kariya won, she would be free.
And just like that, her last protection was gone.
In the Matou household, Sakura was transparent. No one spoke to her. No one acknowledged her. No one needed her.
All she had was her name. Sakura.
In the beginning, she resented it all, her father, her sister, her fate. She even wondered why she hadn't just jumped into the worm pit. At least then she'd have a defined identity. A role.
Eventually, she became numb.
She wasn't as strong or kind as her sister. Not as brave. Not as bright.
She was a "bad child" by nature, always pretending to be good for the sake of praise.
And then, out of nowhere, her grandfather discarded her once again.
Abandoned for the second time.
No longer part of the Tōsaka family. No longer wanted by the Matou family.
She had become a ghost in name and soul.
But… at least this time, she was given to someone who gave her a name.
She was Matou Sakura again.
She thought nothing of it. It was just another shift to a different place. She'd live quietly until she was thrown away once more.
Until, a new dawn.
The strange young man said, "I need you."
He claimed her. Declared her his.
That vile, possessive statement made Sakura tremble.
For the first time, she was needed.
For the first time, she had value.
Even if it was as an object… even if she would die, it didn't matter.
As long as she could die as Roland's Sakura, she would be satisfied.
---
Sakura sat quietly as Roland lay on her lap, the unfamiliar masculine scent of his body in her nose.
When he'd first leaned on her, her body had instinctively wanted to recoil. It was natural for a child, something akin to a stranger danger, survival instinct.
But then… the desire not to be alone overtook that instinct.
She hadn't been this close to anyone since leaving the Tōsaka home.
"Lord Roland… is shaking?"
Their bodies pressed together, Sakura noticed something wrong. Even unconscious, Roland's body was trembling slightly.
This was something beyond magic. It was a miracle. A soul's ascension.
She didn't understand what was happening, but she realized, in that moment, Roland was in a weak, fragile state.
He needed her.
He had acted so calm and indifferent before, even conversing with her grandfather like it was nothing. But now, she saw the truth.
Roland wasn't some untouchable adult. He was someone fragile. Someone vulnerable.
That contrast shook her.
The way he waited for her. The way he spoke.
All of it felt like an invitation.
And that emotion inside her, fear, awe, gratitude, began to shift into something else.
A need to protect. A desire to care for him.
"So… Lord Roland needs me too."
Sakura's face turned red.
Even though his weight made her legs sore and numb, she didn't move. She just stared at him.
Her fingers played gently with his hair, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Sakura laughed.
"Lord Roland needs me."
The thought rooted itself deeply in her mind.
And from that root, something warm began to bloom.
---
"...Sakura?"
Roland's voice stirred.
His eyes opened slowly, looking up at her gentle expression, the close warmth of her body… the calm glow in her eyes.
His head was resting in her lap.
"I'm sorry, Master Roland. Did I wake you?" she asked softly.
"It's fine… How long was I unconscious?"
Roland's voice was still weak, but his gaze lingered on her longer this time, he noticed her gaze this time seemed more....sincere, curious.
Though he didn't know what had just happened, he could feel it.
The last trace of distance between him and Matou Sakura had disappeared.
"Sakura?"
He sat up slowly.
Sakura, still obedient, didn't answer immediately. She stared at him for a moment, as if confirming that he was real.
Then she replied, "Probably less than two minutes."
"…I see."
Roland stood and walked to a small mirror propped against the wall, a leftover from the previous tenant.
He gazed at his reflection.
His clothes were tidy. His hands still pale and delicate. But then his eyes moved upward…
And he froze.
The face in the mirror wasn't his.
It wasn't even human.
It was a dragon's head, noble, ancient, divine. A countenance wrapped in sacred mystery and overwhelming majesty.
His eye sockets glowed with flickering red light, like breathing flame.
No whites. No pupils. Just burning scarlet.
He knew this face.
It was the same spirit that once hovered above the scabbard, Avalon.
He turned his head. The reflection mirrored him perfectly.
Roland reached up and touched his own face.
It felt… normal.
But the mirror didn't lie.
The soul of the Holy Lord now belonged to him.
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[Soul of the Holy Lord]
Effect: Your reflection now reveals your true soul—
A dragon's visage, noble and eternal.
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