Under the blossom, a samurai sleeps peaceful, greeting her final end.
Hisamoto Ayuko was, for all intents and purposes, a normal girl. She grew up in a quaint village a little ways outside of Edo. While her family were never quite affluent, the foot traffic through their village meant that they always had enough to stay afloat, and kept them relatively safe. The rest of the realm, between the constant war between the Daimyos, and any number of insurrections of yokai, were not so lucky. Still, despite her rather cushty upbringing, Ayuko often got herself into trouble. Mainly through fighting with the other kids in the village, often getting herself into trouble. As most children wouldn't, the girl didn't like her punishments at all, and yet, never learned from them. It came to a point where the young Ayuko, a tender ten years old, ran away from home. In the city, her life continued much the same as it always had, except with a bit more stealing than there had once been. One has to eat, after all.
As all things, however, it had to change. With her getting too brash for her own good, she caught the ire of one of the local samurai in Edo. Yet, rather than teach her a lesson through force, he saw... something, in the feisty young woman. With that in mind, he decided to humour her, and take her under his wing. While it did take a number of years to properly hone her skill into that of a true warrior, as well as have her learn the tenets of bushido, the samurai was duly rewarded. Ayuko became more than a match to any of her male counterparts, and could definitely hold her own well in a fight. A valuable companion to have, indeed. She fought, lived, and died with him.
...Died? Well. Before her death, Ayuko came across a travelling salesman. While his wares were, on the whole, things that she could find anywhere else, there was one article that caught her attention. A katana that he was selling for an astoundingly cheap price. Not just any katana, either. This one had a tinge of red within its blade, and a hilt adorned with finely patterned leather. The Shinzui blade. Of course, Ayuko bought it in a heartbeat, such a fine blade at a price like that was nothing to scoff at, and certainly not something to pass up. Much to her surprise, it cut well for a long time, practically never needing to be sharpened by her. It was only once she travelled into battle, that she truly understood why it was called the Shinzui blade, or, the soul blade.
Once her body lay on the ground, cold and bloodied, it gradually began to disintegrate into dust, armor and all. After but a few hours, Ayuko, fully clad in her war garb, was once again alive, and remarkably unharmed, despite her very clear, vivid memories of painful death earlier. She awoke to the stench of death, bodies littering the ground, with that red blade embedded into the earth, as pristine as it ever had been. As it turns out, she was now as much bound to that blade as it was to her. Every death she suffered, no matter how, she would come right back, as fresh as the day she had first picked it up. And so long as she lived, the blade would never dull or weaken.
Ayuko was now, in effect, immortal. While it may have felt like a boon for the first couple dozen times that the far more reckless samurai ended, she began to realize that no matter what, she would now outlive everyone, seeing the candles of her friend's lives fade away, whilst hers burned strong and eternal. A constant pang of suffering so much loss, and cursed to suffer any shame she brought herself 'till the end of time.
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oh no The_Trash_Can has samurai in it too now fuck hey stop hitting me with that thing you bitch