Antiqued Silent Sakura 🌸

Lasered Brass… LE 33 

Under the pale moon, the samurai stood still.

His blade rested in its sheath, not from fear, but from choice. He had learned that steel did not always need to be drawn to hold power. Some battles were won by restraint, others by waiting.

Above him, sakura petals drifted from the old tree. Each one fell at the height of its beauty, never clinging to the branch, never asking for more time. He had once been taught that this was the way of the warrior—to live fully, and to accept the moment of falling without regret.

The mask he wore was not to hide his face, but to carry the weight of all who came before him. Every scar, every oath, every silent goodbye lived behind it.

When the last petal touched the ground, the samurai turned and walked on. The moon remained. The tree would bloom again.

And his honor, like the sakura, would endure—brief, brilliant, and complete.

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