The Perfect Blossom

[Char Aznable]

Time had passed quickly in the sole shrine to the local kami. It was late, so Hitomi dared not to pass into the central building, afraid to disturb the rest of whatever spirits lay there.
Her thoughts were less scattered now, almost crystal clear. It was like a wind had blown all worry from her, all of the troubles of the past. Spending most of the time waiting for the people outside to assemble, Hitomi sat in silence, pondering on the words she'd say - but despite her clear mind, nothing seemed to come of it. Still, every image, every word she could think of didn't fit, or didn't convey what she wanted to say.
What did she want to say, even?

Outside, a thunderous growl rolled over the shrine. The short flash preceding it had woken her from her deep thoughts, instantly making her feel anticipation. How morbid, to actually anticipate the moment of your own end, to look forward to closing your eyes one final time.
Her steps towards the exit of the shrine were slow, but determined. These would be the last steps she'd ever take. The realization set in once more, letting her pause and watch the clouds in the distance. The lightning drawing fine lines, almost worthy of calligraphy. The dark, voluminous cloud itself, crowned by the almost purple crescent of Kodo. The entire picture reminded her of a Kabuto, the face of a god staring down on her, to watch her do this last service to her master.

The doors to the courtyard opened with a slight creak, revealing her slender figure, clad fully in white, the only thing breaking up the color scheme being her own black hair and her personal mon, the one the Emperor himself had bestowed upon her. The tiger, ready to pounce.
When she walked down the steps into the stone courtyard, she mustered the people assembled. Shimazu nobles, all known to her if only by name, stood across a line of people Yoshi and her considered friends. It seemed none of her old friends had made it, but she hadn't expected them to, either. Then her eyes ended on Yoshitsune, flanked by a man she knew to be the priest responsible, and a scribe who couldn't be older than fourteen years.
She didn't smile.
It would have been cruel to smile. And unfitting. Her face seemed to be made from marble, not a single muscle even so much as flinching when the wind blew right in her face.
Deep eye contact was the only thing she could offer the man who did her this last favor. Moments turned to seconds, and those felt like centuries. Memories of their conversations flashed through her mind, of how he had sought refuge in her palace on Kyushu in tattered robes and wounded. Of how they had agreed to keep the child that was on the way, and how shortly afterwards, he convinced her to flee to the outer regions instead of standing to the last. Of how he had raised his voice for the first time when he couldn't convince her of this one plan, and of how they had both calmed down afterwards.
It took her a significant amount of willpower to shift her gaze away, nodding slightly in the process, before she turned around and faced the scribe and the priest. Sinking down to her knees, she let her eyes trail over the perfect curve of the short sword in front of her, wrapped partly in a white towel. A perfectly maintained blade, no cracks or wrinkle. She almost smiled at the thought how she'd always mocked Yoshi for the 'neglect' he offered his own blade, only to usually receive a snarky remark.

She closed her eyes and grabbed the hilt. She knew what to do. When she opened her eyes, likely for the last time, there was nothing on her mind. Perfect peace. Until she thought of something, the words flying from her lips. She saw the scribe take notes, saw how brush moved, painting her words for everyone to read.

"I was
but one petal
but she will be
the blossom"

When she closed her mouth, her mind was peaceful, her gaze clear.
Suddenly, her peace was disturbed by a searing pain in her stomach, crippling, mindnumbing, but she looked forward, staring the god in the clouds right in his judging eyes.
The air smelled like saltwater and blood.
Then, darkness.