Ultra-realistic, cinematic scene. A lone samurai ronin stands motionless in the heart of a vast, windswept flower field--vibrant petals dancing in the storm. Heavy rain pours from a charcoal sky, soaking his tattered straw cloak and darkened armor. His katana rests sheathed at his side, untouched, as thunder rumbles overhead. The wind howls through the valley, but he remains still--his wide-brimmed jingasa hat casting a shadow over his face. Flowers bend beneath the downpour, yet the warrior does not. His presence feels out of time--both beautiful and tragic. A ghost of honor, washed in rain, waiting for a purpose that may never return.