Kaguya closed her eyes. She reached deep into the place where the glass grew. She didn't find the rage her father wanted. She found the memory of the first Sakura Hime—not a warrior, but a bridge.
Her father, the Emperor of the Silver Moon, saw this as a weapon. He didn't see a daughter; he saw a siege engine. He kept her locked in the High Pagoda, where the air was always thick with the scent of fermented nectar and old magic. Sakura Hime 2
The night of the Great Bloom arrived. The enemy armies were at the gates, their torches looking like fallen stars against the dark earth. Kaguya stood on the balcony, her kimono trailing behind her like a river of silk. The Emperor stood behind her, his hand heavy on her shoulder. "Bloom," he commanded. Kaguya closed her eyes
The Emperor roared in fury, but his voice was swallowed by the fragrance. Kaguya felt her skin turning to bark, her hair spinning into fine, white silk. She wasn't becoming a weapon. She was becoming the bridge. She found the memory of the first Sakura
But Kaguya spent her nights whispering to the glass petals. They didn't feel like power. They felt like silence. They felt like the end of things.
The petals of the Great Sakura did not fall; they bled. In the celestial kingdom of Cherry Blossom, the legend of the first Sakura Hime had faded into a nursery rhyme. But for Princess Kaguya, the second to bear the title, the weight of the blossoms was a physical ache. Unlike her predecessor, who commanded the spring with a smile, Kaguya’s touch turned the trees into crystalline glass.