A strange sigil bloomed beneath Sakura's feet, a hybrid pattern that felt neither wholly Eastern nor Western. The small key in her hand expanded, reshaping itself into the familiar winged staff. She drew a card from her pocket and tapped it lightly against the floor.
"Shadow," she said softly.
The card dissolved into darkness and merged with her silhouette.
Sakura stepped outside the exhibition hall and asked Tomoyo to shine a flashlight toward her. Her shadow stretched across the glass, overlapping the painting where the Silence card was hiding. Using the shadow cast by her staff as a medium, she touched it gently to the canvas.
"Return to what you were."
The effect was immediate. The oppressive stillness shattered as the card tore free from the painting, reverting to its original form before drifting neatly into Sakura's waiting hand.
Rowan watched the entire sequence without interrupting, his interest deepening by the second.
These cards weren't simple spells sealed into objects. Silence wasn't just muting sound, and Shadow wasn't merely controlling darkness. Each card felt like a crystallized interpretation of a fundamental magical principle, a concept given form. The reason their effects seemed limited was simple: they were no longer being fueled by their creator.
If Clow Reed himself were wielding them, Silence might erase sound from the entire world, and Shadow could command every shadow cast under the sun.
If Rowan could fully understand the principles behind the cards, he wouldn't just learn faster. He could replicate the method itself.
"See that?" Cerberus said smugly, hands on his hips as he floated in front of Shōma. "Our Sakura's no amateur."
Shōma looked away with a huff. "Beginner's luck."
Rowan placed a hand on both children's heads, smiling. "How about this. Sakura was chosen by the guardian, so she has every right to collect the cards. Shōma, you have the lineage and the training. From here on, you both collect cards on your own. Whoever ends up with more at the end decides the future of the deck."
Cerberus grinned. "Deal. Sakura won't lose."
"Fine," Shōma shot back. "I'll win."
Sakura buried her face in her hands, already regretting everything, while Tomoyo quietly filmed the moment, smiling.
The child from the painting bowed deeply, tears in her eyes, then ran off into the night. Her father's work was finally whole again.
"It's late," Rowan said. "Tomorrow you'll be classmates. Try to get along."
He grabbed Shōma by the collar.
With a sharp crack, both vanished.
Cerberus hovered in place, unsettled. "That old man… that magic was no joke. Didn't feel hostile, though."
"That 'get along at school' thing," Sakura said, blinking. "What did Grandpa mean by that?"
Tomoyo just laughed.
Back at the villa, Shōma stared around in disbelief. "Ancestor… is that kind of movement possible after reaching that state?"
"Of course," Rowan replied. "You'll understand someday. Go to bed."
Once alone, Rowan began reorganizing the books he'd brought with him, reshaping the room with subtle magic as he worked.
In this world, magic and what some called 'arts' were simply different expressions of the same truth. The Yanagi family's traditions centered on elemental forces: metal, wood, water, fire, earth, and their offshoots like lightning and ice. The methods differed, but the results were familiar.
What truly caught his attention, though, was a slim, dust-covered volume at the back of the shelf.
Time.
A text so advanced that no one in the family had ever mastered it. Except, according to the margins, an outsider long ago.
Clow Reed.
Rowan closed the book slowly. If he could decipher this, the Time card would no longer be a mystery.
The next morning, he walked Shōma to Tomoeda Elementary.
At the school gate, Sakura rolled up on her skates, beaming. "Good morning!"
She noticed Shōma's uniform and blinked. "So that's what you meant."
She held out her hand. "I'm Sakura Kinomoto. Nice to meet you."
Shōma froze, then shook it before pulling back quickly. "I'm Yanagi Shōma. And I'm not giving up the cards."
Rowan watched the exchange with a quiet smile.
They already looked like trouble.