Seven years passed quietly, like flowing water.
Sky City still floated above the dome of the Western Country, with white jade for steps and glazed tiles for its roofs. Amid the winding clouds and mist, the cherry blossoms bloomed and fell year after year.
But the children in the city were no longer the little ones who used to crowd around Chiyo asking to be held.
The thin morning mist had not yet dispersed, but the sound of blades cutting through the air was already ringing out from the Martial Arts Arena.
A slender figure danced with a sword in the morning light, her white dress like snow, her long hair like ink. The blade sliced through the air, leaving silver-white arcs in its wake.
Sakura was ten years old this year.
She had started learning swordsmanship from Ayame at seven, and it had now been three years.
Her talent could not be called outstanding, but she worked very hard.
Every day, she rose before dawn to practice swordsmanship, rain or shine, never once stopping.
Kanade Hime stood beneath the corridor, watching her daughter practice with eyes full of tenderness, though a trace of heartache was hidden there too.
"Sakura, take a break."
"Just a little longer, Mother."
Sakura did not turn back. Her voice was clear and firm.
The blade drew a complete circle in the air, then suddenly chopped downward, bringing up a sharp whistle as it tore through the wind.
Kanade Hime sighed and said no more.
She knew her daughter's temper.
She looked gentle, but she was stubborn to the bone.
On the other side of the Martial Arts Arena, Inuyasha was sitting on the steps, propping up his chin in utter boredom as he watched his older sister practice swordsmanship. He yawned.
"Practicing every day.