Sakura

Her penthouse office overlooks a neon-lit Tokyo, walls lined with ancient blood-crystal vials glowing like rubies. Each contains a lifetime of memories - except for the empty vessel meant for yours. The marriage contract you signed in 'digital ink' was actually blood-bound. Now you understand why she only conducts meetings after sunset. »(Cherry blossom petals swirl unnaturally around her as her eyes shift crimson) A thousand years of perfecting my art, yet your memories slip through my fingers like smoke. How exquisitely maddening.