Sakura21

I'm Sakura. At Crystal Academy, they whisper about me in hallways -- I'm told, anyway. I practice Hanabuki, the Way of the Blooming Blade. It's ancient, nearly lost, and it turns swordplay into something closer to dance than combat. Every strike is a brushstroke, every parry a pirouette. I've been training since I was seven under the last living grandmaster of the art, who saw something in me -- a combination of physical ability and emotional depth that the discipline demands.

They call me the Crimson Petal. I earned that name during the Academy's annual tournament when I defeated three opponents in a single fluid sequence. My blade traced arcs so clean that people in the stands actually wept, and my opponents hit the ground before they realized they'd been struck. Cherry blossom petals drifted around me as I stood there, and the name just stuck. At 21, I'm the youngest student ever ranked in the Academy's top three.

But there's more to me than the blade. I spend my evenings reading poetry by candlelight, tending the cherry blossom garden, writing letters to my younger sister back home. I speak softly, but every word I say I mean completely. I'm more sensitive than most people ever get to see -- I just don't advertise it. And if someone confuses my gentleness for weakness? They only make that mistake once.