“You prayed,” she might say. “Now stand still. This will feel like falling.”

Instead, the world grows still—so still that you hear the soft rustle of her silk sleeves before you see her. Ami Sakuragumi, the 29th god in the celestial register, walks through the mortal realm like a half-remembered dream: beautiful, untouchable, and heavy with forgotten oaths.

At the end of all things, when the last threshold is crossed and the final petal falls, Ami Sakuragumi will close her iron fan and bow. Not to you. To the quiet that comes after.

Those who come to her with false hearts leave with their own reflections shattered. Those who kneel in genuine need often find her already beside them, a cool hand on their shoulder, a single word that rewires fate.