It happened when they were ten, on the day they were to conjure their first shikigami.

Making a shikigami was considered the first test for those aiming to become practitioners. Children who could successfully produce one were brought into the fold by the household as apprentices.

Given the day’s importance, relatives near and far had been called to the house to celebrate the occasion.

In the family’s spacious garden, a pentagram had been inscribed on the ground. It was encircled by lit candles.

Hana and Hazuki stood before it, their faces stiff with nerves. The adults around them watched the two of them intently.

Shikigami were beings animated by the practitioner’s power that acted in their master’s stead. They were said to be a representation of the practitioner’s identity.

The strength and appearance of the shikigami reflected the strength of its master.

The shikigami that were the cream of the crop could even speak and intuit their masters’ desires.

Hana, who had few allies in her family, was delighted at the idea of having a friend of her own, someone who would stay by her side and never betray her.

But when she summoned her shikigami, it took the form of a lowly butterfly.

Sure, the butterfly was beautiful and had rainbow wings, but it was well known that insects were the weakest of all shikigami.

Hana was alone in her joy at having made her first shikigami. When her parents saw her shikigami, their last sliver of hope for her crumbled to nothing. She could tell by their expressions the moment they gave up on her completely, and it cut her to the quick.

Next to a dismayed Hana, Hazuki summoned her own shikigami.

Her shikigami took the form of a human, the most powerful and desirable of all shikigami.

The crowd roared with excitement.

Hazuki’s shikigami was just a boy—around the same age as the twins. Nevertheless, even practitioners in the main clan had trouble producing a human shikigami.

The twins had an older brother named Yanagi. He was talented and had a promising future ahead of him, but he had not been able to accomplish what Hazuki had just done.

Therefore, it wasn’t strange at all that the twins’ parents and brother started to heap praise upon Hazuki for her feat.

But…

Hana had been cast aside entirely. She stood alone, forgotten by everyone. Hana’s butterfly came fluttering over to her lonely figure.

“Are you comforting me?” Hana asked, even though, unlike Hazuki’s shikigami, the butterfly would not be able to speak.

However, though a proper conversation was impossible, Hana could somehow sense that her shikigami was worried for her.

“Thanks,” she said. “You’ll always be here for me, right?”

The butterfly alighted on her shoulder as if to agree. The shikigami would stay by her side long after she’d been abandoned by everyone else.

Hana was almost moved to tears.

“That’s right! I have to give you a name. What should it be?” she mused.

Then the perfect idea struck her.

“How about Azuha? It’s just right for a beauty like you.”

The rainbow-hued butterfly showed its pleasure by fluttering around Hana.

A companion just for her.

To Hana, Azuha was an irreplaceable friend whether or not they could speak to each other.

Tragically, the day that Hana found a companion in Azuha was also the day the distance between her and Hazuki widened, and all their former intimacy was forgotten.

From that day on, their parents placed all their hopes on Hazuki and gave her all their attention. They hired first-rate practitioners to tutor Hazuki exclusively and further nurture her talents. When Hana said that she wanted to study, too, their parents berated her, saying, “Don’t get in your sister’s way!”

And that was the end of that.

Hana had no choice but to crack open her books and study on her own.

Meanwhile, Hazuki was tutored in a variety of additional subjects and arts. So the gap between the twins continued to grow.

Now that Hana’s parents were ignoring her completely in favor of her sister, it was a blessing that the family still had servants who took care of her. Thankfully, as a branch of the Ichinomiya clan, who were pivotal to the country’s continued existence, Hana’s family was affluent. Had they not been, her family might even have forgotten to feed her.

The fact that there was a real possibility her parents would’ve let her starve was proof of the stark difference between how she and Hazuki were treated.

As for their brother, Yanagi, he was an expressionless man of few words whose thoughts were completely inscrutable to Hana.

Even that stern man had cracked a rare smile when Hazuki conjured a human shikigami, but he hadn’t spared a single glance at Hana when she produced Azuha. Yanagi’s thoughts might not have shown on his face, but Hana could sense that, like their parents, he didn’t care about her one bit.

Possibly because of that understanding, Hana had always felt uneasy around her brother and avoided him as much as she could. They might have lived under the same roof, but they hadn’t spoken in years.

Unfortunately, she found herself gradually distanced from her other half as well. Now that she was studying under an army of tutors, Hazuki was busier than ever, and the two of them stopped speaking to each other.

Before that point, they had always been able to find time for each other. Hana lamented the loss.

Once, she had gathered her courage to call out to Hazuki, but her mother stopped her before she could. Although Hazuki was still a child, her schedule was jam-packed. According to their mother, Hazuki didn’t have time to talk to the likes of Hana.

“Hana, Hazuki is different from you,” her mother spat. “Hazuki is the hope of our family. I won’t allow you to waste even a second of her precious time with your meaningless chatter.”

Hana had no choice but to reply woodenly, “…I understand, Mother.”

The only recourse left to Hana was to pray that Hazuki would approach her instead, but even when they ate together as a family, Hazuki only ever spoke with their parents. She never said a single word to Hana.

Once they entered middle school, focusing on their studies made them both even busier. Hazuki started taking her supper in her room with their mother sticking by her side. Their father was busy; Hana almost never saw his face. Yanagi, who was a full decade older than the twins, became a full-fledged practitioner. His work kept him away from the house. He rarely came home at all.

Hana was left all alone.

When she ate by herself at the massive dining table, all the food tasted like ash in her mouth. She couldn’t enjoy anything she ate. To ease her loneliness, Hana started bringing her meals to her room, too.

Hana didn’t understand how their family had ended up this way.

Until a short while ago, she had felt the difference between how she and her sister were treated, of course, but she had still considered herself to be one of the family.

Now she wasn’t even sure there was a family to be a part of.

No matter how much she wanted to deny it, she couldn’t. Their family had fragmented into pieces.

Could this all be my fault? she wondered to herself.

If only she weren’t so weak.

If only she were as outstanding as Hazuki.

But in the end, there was nothing she could do.

She couldn’t help but find everyone ridiculous—their parents, who were obsessed with power; Hazuki; and herself, most of all.

Hana thought back to one day in middle school.

Since she had no tutors to help her with her studies, she threw everything she had into independent study. That day, she had gotten back her test results.

She was confident that she had done well on the test, and her score corroborated her expectations. She had scored a full ninety points, which was well above the average.

Delighted and proud, she brought her test to show her father, but she was met with an icy glare.

“Why didn’t you get one hundred?” he admonished. “This is why I say you are no good. Hazuki received full marks, just like she always does, and yet you’re satisfied with this measly result? You should learn from your sister. Your talents as a practitioner are already nonexistent.”

Hana had thought she would be praised, but she was harshly scolded instead. She fought back the tears that threatened to spill.

“The least you could do is keep up with Hazuki in academics,” her father concluded.

“…I apologize,” Hana said.

With the flames of her joy and excitement rudely extinguished, Hana returned to her room dejected.

Azuha flew over and stopped, hovering at eye level to comfort Hana.

One of the family servants, an older woman named Sae, entered her room as well.

The servants of the household sympathized with Hana, abandoned as she was by her parents, and fussed over her in her parents’ stead.

Sae was her main caretaker.

Hana loved Sae. The woman was older than Hana’s mother, and her hair was starting to go white. She always had a kind smile ready for Hana.

Sae came into Hana’s room with a tray bearing a slice of cake. She set the tray softly on the table. The cake was topped with Congratulations! written with chocolate.

“What’s this, Sae?” Hana asked.

“It’s a reward for your excellent exam results, Miss Hana,” Sae replied.

Her parents hadn’t given her a word of praise, but Sae had been considerate enough to prepare a cake.

“You’ve worked hard, Miss,” she continued.

“But Father said I’m useless…,” Hana mumbled.

Even saying it aloud hurt. She knew it was true.

What could Hana do to make her mother and father take notice of her?

She had thought and thought, but she had never found the answer. One’s skills as a practitioner were innate. They couldn’t be improved through mindless effort.

Seeing Hana so miserable, Sae tried to cheer her up.

“The useless ones are your parents, who fail to see their child’s efforts. Wash your hands clean of them,” Sae advised.

Sae’s judgment was incisive. They weren’t words a servant should use to talk about her employers.

Hana was shocked.