Sakura Hanami by MissTeak

Sakura Hanami

I do not own Inuyasha or any of the characters.

A/N: This oneshot is based off Janey-jane’s wonderful fanart ‘Spring’, and I’ve chosen to set the story in Himeji in the Kansai region of Japan. For those who are familiar with that place, it is approximately an hour away from Kobe’s Sannomiya if you travel by train. Why Himeji, you may wonder. Well…simply because it’s famed for being one of Japan’s best cherry blossom viewing places, and I’ve personally been there.

If you share a love for the lovely pink cherry blossoms, I sincerely hope you enjoy this oneshot.

Sakura Hanami

桜花見 

(Cherry Blossom Viewing)

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I love the annual hanami taikai, which is the traditional cherry blossoms viewing festival.

Everything turns beautiful with a pinkish touch, be it natural like Mother Nature’s blooms, or artificial like the splendid array of sakura-themed products found in every departmental store, café, bakery…even Starbucks, with its sakura-themed tumblers. Foods like sakura mochi, sakura wine, sakura soft-serve ice cream, sweet sakura jellies can be found everywhere. My favorite would be the pale pink petals that float frozen in the sea of light cherry jelly.

The cherry blossom-laden sky was literally dyed pink by the petals dancing freely in the wind, enveloping all its admirers in a warm spring embrace.

Nothing could compare to the feeling of gazing up at a flurry of pink, so unbridled in its dancing yet so peaceful with its delicate color and gentle floral scent. Reality sets in, and I realize, yes, it is indeed springtime. Mother Nature had shed her thick, icy layer of white makeup to reveal the fresh, girly pink of her skin, and was now flaunting it so generously to her children.

As it has always been, the castle grounds of the ancient Himeji castle were filled with throngs of people. It was a fact that everyone knew; Himeji castle had one of the most magnificent displays of cherry blossoms in spring. The seemingly interminable walkway flanked by cherry blossom trees in their full glory was already breathtaking enough, and if one ascended the stairs to go all the way up to the highest level of the castle, the sea of raging pink below would make you feel how great it was to be alive.

The view was fantastic, but I wished I could tell them how it was even more splendid five hundred years ago in the Sengoku era.

So upon the cherry-colored splendor I gaze, speechless, lost in my memories.

I have a strange habit which none of my friends can understand, and it is really partly my fault for not explaining to them. But what was the point of explaining something which no one would understand? No one would know the feeling anyway, and sympathy was not something I appreciated.

You see, I like going to the hanami taikai alone.

As antisocial as that might sound, since the traditional festival had always been an event which should be enjoyed with friends and family, I have to do it at least once during the cherry blossom festival. So I always turned down invitations from friends to go cherry blossom viewing, and now, no one ever bothers to ask me.

For them, it might be an appreciation of nature at its finest and also, a good opportunity to catch up with friends who might have been too busy to meet up during other times of the year.

For me, it is a walk down memory lane. As the petals dance in the spring breeze, they bring to my mind faces of my dear friends with whom I used to appreciate the cherry blossoms five hundreds ago at Himeji castle in the Sengoku era. It was definitely more beautiful back in that time, without the commercialized activities and the technological pollution of this great earth. Sango and I would prepare the simple snack of sakura mochi, dyeing the glutinous rice with natural coloring which we would obtain by pounding the cherry blossom petals. Inuyasha and Shippo would always fight over the last sakura mochi in the basket, while Miroku would become unsually poetic, usually coming up with one or two haiku to praise the magnificent blooms.

But they were all gone, just like the mesmerizing petals of the sakura when spring comes to an end. Sadly, they did not return to earth, not like how the cherry blossom blooms again in the next spring after one cycle.

I was left behind by time…or perhaps, I had left time behind. I don’t know.

I missed them dearly, especially Inuyasha. Then, the cherry blossom-flavored breeze would lead my mind from thick grayish silver hair to a flash of silvery white, and there he would be…locked in my mind.

What a breathtaking view it would make; with him standing in the spring winds of the softest pink as his silver hair flew with the breeze. Himeji castle reminded me of him; after all, he used to live in something like that, from what I heard from Inuyasha. Never have I met a man as gorgeous as he is, or was, if he was no longer around. I would never know, I guess, and if that thought would make me sad…well, I’d rather not think about it.

He was so beautiful; it hurt to look at him. I remember the way my heart would clench in this sharp sting of emotion whenever he came into sight. Maybe I was simply jealous of his unearthly beauty, but I knew deep down, that was an excuse. I don’t think I like him; I have always been a generous, big-hearted person, but he made me want to keep his beauty selfishly for only myself. I remember how his stoic face was tinged with the lightest touch of melancholy when the wind demoness Kagura passed away on the grassy plains under the gentle caresses of the afternoon sun.

Funnily enough, I had entertained a very strange thought then. I wondered to myself, if he would feel sad should I die. Then I had given myself a mental slap – just what was I thinking? It was so stupid; now I feel so embarrassed for having thought about it. We were so far apart, be it in physically, mentally or socially…

I suppressed a sigh, brushing off a stray cherry blossom petal which had flown straight into my face before shaking my head. I must be going crazy; so deep was my desire to see him, I was starting to see things.

The flash of silver was caught by the corner of my eye again, and I strode ahead, holding my yellow purse closer to myself as I tried to convince myself I had to be hallucinating.

The clouds of fluttery pink above me seemed to be mocking me for my wild thoughts, before I heard something that froze my senses and my ability to think coherently.

“Miko.”

I must be going crazy, I must going crazy…no, no, it must be a man who has a similar voice to his, calling out to a girl who happened to be named Miko…I thought frantically, before striding away as quickly as my legs could carry me. The tranquility of the cherry blossom display was broken by my racing mind.

Then it was silent. I took a deep breath.

“Miko.”

Oh gosh. Something must be very wrong.

Determined to go to the nearest psychologist, I walked ahead, wondering if too much pollen could be responsible for my mental condition.

Then I froze, when a hand tapped me on my shoulder.

I turned around, feeling my breath hitch, when I came face to face with a man whom I have never met in my entire life.

“Miss, do you know how to get to Kokoen from here?” The stranger asked, and I felt the breath I had been holding in escape.

Kokoen was the traditional Japanese garden located beside Himeji castle, and I directed him accordingly, bowing in return as he bowed his thanks before hurrying back to join his family.

Then I took a few steps ahead, intending to walk to the area of Himeji castle which used to be the execution grounds of the captured samurai from opposing factions. They have the prettiest Japanese maple trees there, and the leaves are a pretty shade of deep green in spring.

A warm, masculine wrapped itself around my wrist, and I whirled around to look at the person in annoyance, wondering why he had to hold me by the wrist if he simply wanted to ask for directions.

“What-”

Then I died and went to heaven, hell and came back to earth when my eyes met golden orbs.

“Miko,” He drawled. “Are you now deaf, or have you forgotten your identity? It is not too polite to ignore others so blatantly.”

I stared at him, watching the way the sakura petals danced around him like an iridescent pink halo. An angel, that was what this man had to be. Except angels don’t usually come in Ermenegildo Zegna suits, complete with red ties with their family crests and they most definitely don’t smell of Infusion d’Homme by Prada.

His brows furrowed ever so slightly as he stared into my eyes unwaveringly, as if wondering if I was really suffering from a case of premature dementia.

Finally, the world stopped spinning and I regained the ability to use my mouth. “Sesshoumaru…”

“Hn.” He responded, releasing my wrist from his warm grip. We stood in silence on the crowded path as people passed us by, looking at each other, both dying to say more yet unsure of how to go about doing so.

I broke the silence.

“Why are you here? Where have you been?”

He took a step forward on the path, before stopping in his steps to incline his body in my direction in invitation to walk with him. Smiling politely, I walked forward.

“For the same reasons as you.” He replied, and something dawned upon me.

We were both cruelly deserted by the invisible opponent known as time, and were desperately trying to relive our memories by visiting the same old places.

Somehow, the distance between the two of us did not seem so jarring any more.

“I have always been around.” He added coolly, as if to emphasize that it did not bother him. But the fact that he had invited me to walk with him, something so uncharacteristic of Sesshoumaru, told me otherwise. He was as lonely as I was, and finally, both of us found someone who could understand how we felt inside.

Then we walked in silence, appreciating the sights around us as a newfound sense of peace overcame us.

“Where are you heading off to after this?” He asked, keeping his eyes on the clouds of gentle pink in the distance.

I took a deep breath of the sweet, floral air. “Home, I guess. There’s nowhere else to go.”

“Let’s go for dinner.”

My world suddenly turned a delicate pink, just like the blooming cherry blossoms around me, and my heart fluttered like the dancing petals.

“Aren’t you supposed to ask?” I asked teasingly.

He raised an eyebrow elegantly, but I caught the mirth dancing in his eyes, and it stole my breath away again. “You mean you’d say no?”

“You didn’t change.”

“Neither did you.” He replied, and I laughed.

Oh, Sesshoumaru, I couldn’t help but steal a glance at your face as you absentmindedly brush a petal off your silvery tresses, which reminded me of a waterfall blessed by moonshine.

How beautiful…

The color of cherry blossoms,

And the color of you.

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The End.