A beautiful pink cherry blossom floats gracefully to the ground and lands at the feet of a noble daimyo lord. He stands tall, bearing the majestic armor of his forefathers. His face is stoic, nostrils flaring, as he draws deeply of the crisp spring air. Pulling his mask down over his face, Kato Katsuro extends a long arm, and points into the west. A fleet of his loyal samurai archers march forward, passing him by and forming a line on the hillside. In unison they halt, draw their arrows, and ready their bows.