Interlude: Cerasus × yedoensis ‘Somei-yoshino’
I think cherry blossoms should bloom with pride.
Because they carry that much expectation.
The town was as crowded as it gets any time of year. Not even Golden Week or summer vacation brings out this many people. During this peak bloom period, I’m told people even come from outside the prefecture, which is surprising.
It’s spring break. I live in this area. I could have aimed for an empty weekday slot. And yet, the reason I ended up going out on a Sunday afternoon when it’s guaranteed to be crowded was entirely due to my little sister’s selfishness.
“It’s more fun and festival-like when there are lots of people around.”
Fun or not fun is a matter of values. So I couldn’t argue her down.
My father pressed three thousand-yen bills into my hand saying “Go to Asahi,” then both parents went off to work, leaving me to go cherry blossom viewing with just my sister.
We came to see the cherry blossoms in full bloom, so abundant they fill up spring itself.
I’m not good with crowds. I wasn’t enthusiastic about it, but once we actually went into town—how beautiful it was.
The row of cherry trees lined up along the embankment of the Tsunagawa River flowing to the Pacific had dyed the sky a pale crimson like watercolor paint scattered through the air. Just a gentle breeze makes countless petals dance—probably not even ten thousand is enough. A strong wind would surely reach into the hundreds of millions.
The street leading from Hachiman Bridge, which crosses the Tsunagawa, to the city center is named Sakura Street. Cherry trees are planted so abundantly on both sides that it becomes a tunnel where you can’t see the sky for the flowers. That tunnel invites people walking along the river toward Tsunagai Hachiman Shrine.
Apparently wealthy people from the Taisho era competed to plant them. In the spacious grounds of Hachiman-sama, magnificent Somei Yoshino trees spread their branches wide. It was worth pushing through the crowds. The cherry blossoms made me think so.
Since we came to the shrine, we can’t just look at cherry blossoms and go home. My sister and I line up in the long queue leading to the worship hall. Anticipating this waiting time, my sister starts stuffing her mouth full with the sakura Dumplings we bought. Dumplings over flowers. My sister, who chose the crowds herself but hated waiting in line, became completely docile with the sakura mochi. Just as I’d planned.
At that moment, a man’s voice from ahead caught my interest.
“I need to properly give thanks for getting into Tsunagai High School too.”
Apparently, someone who will be my future high school classmate is a bit ahead in the line.
“Of course!”
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The response was a girl’s cheerful voice. Probably the man’s daughter. I guessed that the ponytail visible over the shoulders of the people ahead belonged to the owner of that voice. There seem to be parents, left and right, as well.
In the crowd, I can’t see them well. However, the hair tie binding her hair high at the back of her head has a distinctive cherry blossom ornament. The material is fabric. It’s three-dimensionally finished with tsumami zaiku craft. Cherry blossom pink tends to become cheap-looking when commercialized, but her cherry blossom isn’t like that. It has a soft, elegant color that shows respect for nature.
The cherry blossom girl was soon buried in the crowd.
I received the last piece of sakura domyoji from my sister, expressed my regret that it had been partially eaten, enjoyed the spring through the refreshing fragrance of salt-pickled cherry leaves, and then I finished my worship.
On my way back down the approach, I spot the tsumami craft cherry blossom again.
Again, I only see the back of her head. She’s facing a long table specially set up for writing ema, seemingly concentrating intently on something. I can’t even see her face, but I can tell she’s serious.
“Hey, want to try writing an ema?”
Using that as an excuse to my sister, I push through the crowd toward the long table. Just a tiny bit of curiosity. What does a girl who will become a future high school classmate wish for in cherry blossom season?
“Huh? Nah. It costs money and it’s a hassle.”
Insisting on the ema here wouldn’t be in character for me. “You’re right,” I say, changing direction.
The cherry blossom girl seems to have finished writing her wish and starts moving from the long table to the ema rack. I glance in her direction, then immediately feel embarrassed about myself. Even though they’re written to be seen, trying to peek at someone else’s written wish is in the worst taste. Moreover, it’s a girl’s wish.
I immediately turned my gaze back—I did turn it back, but even so, her wish that I accidentally caught sight of burned into my retina like an intense flash. It was just one sentence, but it contained a wish completely different from anything I’d imagined.
Beautiful characters that showed education. That’s exactly why the oddness of the content was emphasized.
In high school, may I be able to do well.
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