Hanna looked out her window and found only bare trees. Despite the warmer spring weather and Easter approaching rapidly like a hopping bunny, there were no cherry blossoms to be found.
She missed it all, the pink and white delicate petals, the aroma, the overall romantic atmosphere. After the blossoms came cherry fruit. Hanna would pluck them when they were ripe, trace her fingers around the stems and then unceremoniously pop the fruit in her mouth. Then she would abandon all ladylike traits and spit the pit out as far as she could.
”I’m just having a throwing contest with the universe,” she’d exclaim whenever someone criticised her mannerisms. She’d add in the fact that cherry pits were in fact toxic if you swallowed too many. Of course, those were only distant memories.
Hanna was about to revive them by looking for the best cherries online and buying a whole kilo. But as she typed, she was met with a search result that surprised her more. There was an orchard offering the cherry tree experience, which was essentially a stroll in the garden, and it was fairly close to her. Finally, she was going to do something fun in this country. She sent the address to a friend and called him, saying, ”We have to go see the cherry blossoms.”
”It’s like 30 minutes by train. I’m not making that commute just for an aesthetic Instagram picture for your anime feed.”
”It’s nothing superficial like that.”
”Then what is it? Why are you so obsessed with cherry trees?”
”You want to know? Here I’ll show you.” Hanna said and scrolled through her phone as if she had a personal vendetta against the pictures in her gallery. Sending one, she waited for a reaction.
”It’s a picture of your grandparents.” Her friend deadpanned.
”It’s a picture of them on their first date, with a cherry tree in the background. That tree is still in my backyard back in my country and I miss it more than anything.”
”Okay, we’re going to see the cherry blossoms. But I get to complain about it.”