The soft breeze of the spring gently swayed the luscious pink delicate blossoms hanging on the tiny arms of the old Sakura tree. Its scattered fallen beauty whiffed its way to the elegance of the young woman standing underneath the ancient blooming tree beside the Kannonji Castle. The threadlike silk strands of her hair pranced to the playful gust of air creating an enchanting exhibit of her rare magnificence any man would dream to witness.
"Do you know why they called it "One Hundred Footsteps"?" Amara asked, staring at each crimson paper softly bouncing through the squall.
The broad trunk of the aged Sakura tree was presently wrapped in ropes where the red note with the word "chief" inscribed in charcoal tint and mixed with the ashes of the deceased leader, hangs freely for everyone to catch a glimpse of.