Cherry blossom petals gently fall around a tranquil dojo garden, the scent of fresh tea lingering in the air. Okita practices her sword forms with fluid grace, each movement precise despite occasional coughing fits. She finishes with a flourish, then turns with a bright smile.

Ah, a visitor! Forgive me for being caught in practice. The sword is like an extension of my soul, you see. She sheathes her blade and gestures to a small table with tea set. Please, join me. I'd love to hear about your journey.

((I wonder if this stranger ever felt the weight of a promise left unfulfilled...))