Falling for Sakura
Instantly, it reminded him of the woman he loved, the woman named Sakura, and his heart ached.
“Mono no aware,” Haruka said, nodding. “You understand its meaning.”
Sebastian opened his eyes. Before him, he saw his new tenant from Japan who, with her small family, had moved into this luxurious private apartment on the upper east side of Manhattan three months ago. Haruka, Sebastian thought, was one very traditional Japanese woman all right, for he had never seen her dressed in anything except a yukata. This one was very beautiful indeed, with purple and white flowers.