Falling Cherry Blossoms Novels & Stories

he whispered on her ear. "Thank you..." she answers and holds his hand on her waist. "You see that honey?" Nathan pointing into the trees covered with ice. "That's a cherry blossom." "Really?" "Every spring, people around here gather under those trees for festival." "Sakura festival?" "Yap, will come back here on spring so we can witness that and beside I think this house needs a renovation." "Will you really buy this?" she asked again. "Do you like this place?" "Yes."

A burst of screams had erupted from the ward, followed immediately by the sound of things being smashed. James had quickly pushed his wheelchair inside, only to see the room in complete disarray. The nutritional supplements that Sophia had carefully chosen for Jessica had all been shattered across the floor, glass fragments scattering like countless sharp ice crystals, reflecting cold, blinding light under the sun. The photo that Sophia had specially taken at the wedding banquet of James and Jessica kissing had also been smashed against the wall. In the picture, Jessica's smiling face had been slashed diagonally by a jagged shard of glass, instantly becoming fragmented and eerie.

She walked to them like instinctive chemotaxis was calling her to them. She walked to them and tried to touch them as she was already feeling so enchanted by them. She stretched her palms and tried to touch one of the most beautiful bosoms of the flower bush. Suddenly, I felt the petals of beautiful cherry blossoms falling down from the sky. I closed my eyes for a moment before looking up at the bright sky. There wasn’t any cherry blossoms tree from which these petals could fall. She was all confused and all in dilemma. She wasn’t getting what exactly was going on?

The park brimmed with life that afternoon, the kind that felt gentle and unhurried. Children’s laughter floated across the lawn, mingling with the hush of leaves that swayed in the soft breeze. The cherry blossoms were in bloom again, their petals drifting lazily through the air like snowflakes caught in sunlight. Nearby, the fountain whispered as water spilled into its basin, its steady rhythm blending with the easy sounds of joy around it.

“If you have any news, contact me immediately.” There was a slight pause before Kenji spoke again. “You still have that flower?” Yuri knew what flower her uncle was talking about -- The stalk of the cherry blossom flowers, otherwise known as the sakura blossoms, that Kenji had brought over during his January visit that year, and which Hitomi had placed in a vase half-filled with water. “Of course. Niisan never forgot that my favourite sakura blossoms. Every year, you always picked a stalk of it for me when the sakura blossoms in Japan.” There was a slight pause. “It’s getting late. I’ll make up a bed for you—”

However, Kim Jae appreciates the girl's good intentions. "Okay, I'll keep this paper from you," said Kim Jae friendly. The girl bowed again briefly, then left Kim Jae. For a moment Kim Jae saw the young man's back which was getting further away. "Hmm... easy prey. I could use it to take revenge on Takahashi," he muttered. *** Koganei Park, Tokyo, Japan. It's March 27th, Koganei Park is full of people doing 'hanami'. Hanami is the tradition of having a group picnic while enjoying the blooming cherry blossoms in spring, usually they lay out a mat under the cherry blossom tree.

But the smell; burning fabric, plastic, flesh, hit her like déjà vu. She stumbled back, chest heaving. Not again. From the hallway came a final, echoing scream, and then the unmistakable crackle of fire.

The Retiro in April is exactly what she promised. The cherry trees (cerezos en flor — cherry blossoms, a relatively recent tradition in Madrid's parks that has grown in popularity partly due to Japanese cultural influence and partly because Madrid's springs are genuinely spectacular when the trees cooperate) along the north end of the park produce the specific kind of beauty that requires no commentary — the kind that makes people stop mid-sentence and look. Ethan stops mid-sentence and looks, which she finds satisfying in the particular way of someone whose descriptions have been trusted enough to act on.

I take it straight to the balcony, pushing open the doors to the Tang Garden below. It’s breathtaking—the same sprawling garden from my childhood, painted in soft moonlight. The cherry blossoms dance in the wind, petals spiraling down like pale whispers. I can still see myself here as a little girl, running beneath those trees, chasing petals while my father watched, pride in his eyes, his laughter echoing across the stone paths.

Come. Another whisper. I pulled my hand from the tree I had been touching. I look around a little. Everything about my surroundings said I was in a normal forest all alone. Where was this voice coming from? My eyes settled on another one of those natural tree aisle formations, but this one is leading towards a very small clearing with a Weeping Cherry Tree in the middle. It was gorgeous, in full bloom too, though it seemed a little warm for it to be doing so. The landscape here was beautiful, but biologically impossible. The laws of nature I was familiar with didn't seem to apply here in the slightest.