Sacrifice
SACRIFICE
Chapter 1: The Offering
The sky turned silver when the Bells began to ring.
They rolled across the rooftops — slow, deep, and heavy — echoing off the towers like a heartbeat the whole city shared. People froze where they stood. No one spoke. The Bells only meant one thing.
Choosing Day.
Sixteen-year-old Sakura Yamamoto gripped the edge of the balcony rail until her fingers went numb. Below, crowds spilled into the plaza, faces pale and hollow. From here she could see the Hall of Light — a glass tower so tall it caught the first light of morning and made it look like the sky was burning. That's where they'd gather. Where names would be called.
Sakura had never liked the Hall. It gleamed too brightly for what it represented — a place where children were sent to die.
Her mother stood in the kitchen behind her, silent. No one talked on Choosing Day. There was nothing to say that hadn't been said a hundred times before.
A soft tug at her sleeve made her turn.
Her little sister, Hana, stood barefoot in the doorway, her dark hair tangled from sleep. Thirteen, small for her age, all nerves and hope.
"Do you think they'll call us?" she asked.
Sakura forced a steady voice. "No," she said. "They won't."
It was a lie, of course. Every family said it.
The streets below were filling fast. Drones hovered like silver insects overhead, their cameras blinking red. The broadcast had begun. Sakura pulled her coat tighter and took Hana's hand.
When they reached the plaza, the air was sharp with cold and fear. Lines of children stood shoulder to shoulder, silent as soldiers. The adults watched from behind a barrier — not allowed to cross, not allowed to interfere.
On the stage, the Host smiled into a microphone, all perfect teeth and artificial warmth.
"Good morning, citizens! Welcome to the Seventy-Eighth Sacrifice Games! Today we honor courage, unity, and devotion!"
Sakura felt her jaw tighten. Unity, she thought bitterly, as long as someone bleeds for it.
The announcer's assistant stepped forward, reaching into a clear glass bowl filled with paper slips. The drone cameras zoomed in. Sakura's pulse pounded in her ears.
"From City Twelve..." the Host called.
A hush spread across the plaza, so deep that even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
"The chosen: Sakura Yamamoto."
For a moment, the world went still.
Then Hana's hand slipped from hers.
Sakura didn't cry. She didn't move.
She just lifted her chin, forcing herself to look at the Hall of Light in the distance — the place she'd sworn she'd never set foot in.
The crowd parted around her as the peacekeepers approached. The cameras followed every step. Somewhere above, the drones hummed, capturing her face for the millions watching across the cities.
People said those who entered the Fields never came back.
Sakura wasn't sure she cared.
She only had one thought left — a promise that burned like fire in her chest:
If Hana's name is ever called, I'll take her place. Even if it kills me.
Chapter 2: The Hall of Light
