Sakura Sai, Psionic Butterfly
Yui Kimura grew up in Hida, Japan, where she was raised by her mother, father, and grandmother. From a young age, Yui was always interested in motorcycles, much to her father's dismay, and longed to follow in her grandfather's footsteps, even wearing his lucky hachimaki around her arm every day. Though she couldn't quite explain it, she had a strange, yet overwhelming feeling of empathy, being able to feel the emotions of each person she came across. Her grandmother would tell her it was a gift, and she should be grateful for being able to empathize with others in all walks of life.
Despite having the rebellious nature against her father to get involved in moto-racing, she did take up the tradition of kendo-training, being top of her class for years. Upon her 16th birthday, her father confronted her regarding her future... and a proposition for an arranged marriage. Enraged, Yui and her father got into an argument, which resulted in him casting her out from the family. Before departing, she met with her grandmother, who led her to an old garage, her grandfather's motorcycle inside. It still ran, after all these years, and she gifted it Yui, as well as a fair sum of money for her to go and live a life of her own. A tearful goodbye, little did she know it would be the last time she spoke to her grandmother.
After competing in several races and making a name for herself, Yui gained the following of other female motorcyclists, who banded together, dubbing themselves the Sakura Seven. Years passed, and trials kept presenting themselves to her; including a stalker, a burglar, and confrontation with the Yakuza. Fearing what may happen to her new-found friends, Yui met with the leader of Okinawa sect. Upon explaining her backstory, and the formation of the Sakura Seven, she noticed a change in the hardened man's demeanor, willfully setting aside their difference and granting her and her gang asylum while in Okinawa.
Rejoicing, Yui continued on to her next race, one that would elevate herself, the Seven to an even higher status, as well as a several-thousand-dollar prize. Taking her place at the starting line, she hears a voice calling out to her... Only, it wasn't coming from the crowd, it was within her own mind; a man's voice, though hard to make out, sounded worried. She brushed it off as pre-race jitters before taking off on the road, winding down every turn with ease, until a thick mist formed in front of her. Suddenly, the sounds of other motorcycles and cheering faded, and a faint red glow shown in the distance; a set of three eyes and a growl emitting from the direction of the oculi.
Before she can even begin to comprehend the events unfolding, orange sparks flutter off of the ground before her, before forming a large, dark opening, the sparks sputtering from the threshold, closing behind her as she ventures through. The man's voice from earlier calls out from the pitch black, Well, Miss Kimura, the voice grows closer, features now becoming visible. Destiny has brought you here, and you have a grand journey ahead of you.
The figure that stands before her, though she had never met him, has a familiar aura. Mi Dispiace- Apologies for the suddenness of this meeting, he extends his hand to hers in greeting. Vittorio Toscano, though, most people of this time know me as Dr. Strange. I am the Sorcerer Supreme of this universe, and I have seen a future filled with endless torture, and you would have become a part of it had you gone further into the fog.
His brows furrow as he walks her over to a cushioned chair, a display case adjacent from where she now sits. This may be a lot to take in, but this realm is slowly being consumed by an ancient entity, using the fog to transport people, places, and eras in time into its realm. I have journeyed into her clutches, escaping only by the powers bestowed upon myself as the protector of this timeline. The sorcerer glides to the display case, igniting the candles above with the wave of his hand, revealing an ancient blade within the container.
Upon seeing the katana, Yui's heart begins to race, a slew of voices echoing in her mind as she clutches her head. Extending her opposite hand towards the case, the glass shatters as the hilt of the sword flies directly into her grasp, images of bloodshed, anger, and grief flooding her psyche as she loses consciousness. In her unconscious state, Yui learns the history of the blade, each of the victims speaking to her, one by one in rapid succession, ending with a young woman, only a year or so younger than she.
Rin Yamaoka, the last of the Yamaoka bloodline, killed by her own father, who wielded the very blade the racer held in her hands. Suddenly her eyes shoot open, Strange standing close by as she takes in her surroundings. Ah, you're awake once more, he hands her a warm mug full of a clear, tan liquid. Oolong. It is your favorite yes? She nods silently before sitting up slowly, noticing a light weight on her back, the sword, placed gently in it's sheath.
Tell me, young lady, what did you learn in your journey with the souls inside the blade? The man's voice echoes, but his lips do not move. Intrigued, but understanding, Yui looks down at her reflection in the tea, taking a deep breath before divulging what she had learned; the Yamaoka family, the aura within the weapon, all linked to her. The only question that remained in her mind; Why me?
Once again, the sorcerer communicates, only using his thoughts, reaching her mind. I'm sure you have noticed you are not just an empath, but can understand thoughts of others and communicate telepathically. Vittorio rapidly moves his hands, an incantation of sorts, before projecting an image of several orbs into the air in front of them. This is the multiverse; several universes that have co-existed without connection ever since the beginning of time itself. Tendrils pour into one of the spheres, a fog slowly emitting from them. Unfortunately, this entity has started engulfing parts of our universe, and in doing so, With another wave of his hand, a golden thread expands to each orb, forming a web-like pattern. It has connected each of our worlds together in an attempt to consume each one until it is the only thing left.
The projection fades into a series of figures, each one emitting auras of different abilities. A chaotic crimson aura of magical origin, a green, mischievous aura of divine origin; several images fading from one to another, until settling upon a... familiar figure, brimming with psionic energy. Is that- The sorcerer interrupts, a soft grin placed upon his lips, You, yes... But also not. The image fades into nothingness as he places his hand upon Yui's shoulder. Each universe has pre-destined individuals that inherit powers, skills, and abilities that, for better or for worse, keep that world in balance. The young woman's eyes meet the other's, a feeling of hope filling her core. You, miss Kimura, are one of them. Of us. You... are Psylocke.
Suddenly, a memory comes to the forefront of her thoughts. Her grandmother from when she was younger, the two sitting under a Sakura tree as tears fill her eyes. The petals cascade down as the elder embraces the other, her voice carrying comfort and love. Empathy is not a burden to be carried, nor is it a curse. The girl looks up to the elder, her gaze softening as the tears slowly fade. It is a gift, and one day... You will use it to accomplish great things.
