'A chilling air yields something ancient and new this crisp December night. For every hundred years, on this very night, the ice sakura bloom and fly into the midnight sky. To witness it is a lone samurai by the name of Aoi Myoujin, having just received a letter from his dearly beloved, as the flattened ears of his saddened expression catches the gentle whispering sound of snow falling.'
My Entry for Antro Challenge #90, hosted by Kovo^wolf.