It was a warm afternoon in Tsukamoto, and the brothel was bustling. Katsumi Jun had just finished helping Mai with the flower arrangements when her aunt, Myoshi, called her over.

"Katsumi, I need you to sweep the entryway again. It’s getting dusty," Myoshi said briskly.

"But Aunt Myoshi, I just swept it an hour ago," Katsumi replied, irritation creeping into her voice.

"Well, it needs doing again," Myoshi insisted. "We can't have the place looking unkempt."

Katsumi felt a surge of frustration. "Why don't you ask one of the other girls? I'm always the one doing everything around here," she snapped.

Myoshi's eyes narrowed. "Katsumi, you know why. Now, just do as you're told."

Angry and feeling unjustly treated, Katsumi stormed off, muttering under her breath, "It's always me, isn't it? Never anyone else..."

As she descended the stairs, she heard the loud voices of men in the common area. Peeking through the railings, she saw a group of samurai, their armor dingy and worn, marking them as ronin—masterless and often troublemakers.

"Great, just what I needed," Katsumi mumbled in annoyance, her disdain for samurai intensifying.

The ronin were laughing raucously, their eyes scanning the room for the women they intended to "entertain" for the evening. Katsumi felt a wave of revulsion. She knew she couldn't stay here a moment longer.

Quietly, she slipped out the back door, needing the solace of the cherry blossom forest to clear her head. The cool air and the scent of blooming flowers began to soothe her frayed nerves. She walked briskly until she reached her favorite spot by the river, where the cherry blossoms draped over the water like a delicate, pink canopy.

Katsumi sat down under one of the trees, drawing her knees up to her chest and resting her head on them. She watched the river flow gently by, the water glistening in the afternoon light.

"I hate big, stupid samurai," she muttered to herself, picking at the grass by her side. "So annoying..."