Chapter 2: Sakura is so pretty, isn’t it?

One night, Sayuri was floating softly through the air.
She wasn’t carried by the wind, nor did she have any purpose—she simply surrendered herself to her mood.
Then, a single cherry tree, blooming with a wavering shimmer, appeared, quietly and alone.

Though the surroundings were completely wrapped in darkness, that one cherry tree glowed faintly with a gentle light—
and it stood out with a vividness almost too unnatural to be real.

Drawn by the sight of those blossoms, as if faint light were seeping through each petal, Sayuri felt her curiosity stirred.

“…Hm? Sounds lively?”

When she went closer, she saw that it was the grounds of an abandoned shrine—
a decaying torii gate, a half-collapsed hall.
Yet, within that desolate space, there was an almost mismatched liveliness.

Animal spirits and other incomprehensible supernatural beings had gathered, forming a circle beneath the night-blooming cherry tree, chatting merrily together.
Lights hung like paper lanterns faintly illuminated the surroundings.

“Wow, nice… Are they having hanami?”

A little away from the lively circle, Sayuri called out to a child ghost who was standing all alone.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“Hanami!”

The cheerful answer made Sayuri smile as well.

“I thought so. It’s about seventy percent in bloom, right? Looks like it’ll be full tomorrow.”

When she said that, the child ghost suddenly turned serious and spoke.

“But you know, they say you shouldn’t look at the cherry blossoms when they’re in full bloom. If you do—you’ll vanish.”

“Eh? Why?”

“I don’t know. Just that it’s something you mustn’t do.”

With that, the child gave a light smile and ran off toward the circle.
Watching that small back as it vanished among them, Sayuri tilted her head.

(...I wonder if there’s a reason. What kind of reason could it be?)

From deep within her chest, curiosity began to rise, slowly but surely.

“Don’t come tomorrow.”

From behind her came a voice, slightly nasal in tone.
When she turned around, she saw a nekomata with two fluffy tails swaying gently from side to side.

“Oh, good evening. —Wait, why?”

“If you get bewitched by the cherry blossoms in full bloom, they’ll suck away both your life and your soul. Even a ghost like you’ll vanish, you know!”

“Heh… I see. Then I’d better be careful.”

Saying that, Sayuri quietly reached out her hand.

“Don’t touch it!”

With a sound that sliced through the air, her hand was sharply slapped away.

“Mmm… I was really hoping I’d finally get to touch a kitty.”

Sayuri puffed out her cheeks and sulked, and the nekomata flattened its ears and snapped, “Don’t call me ‘kitty’!”

“All right…” she muttered, raising a hand lightly to cover it, yet she kept looking up at the cherry tree.

“Are you going to do hanami again tomorrow?”

“No. If you get bewitched by the cherry blossoms in full bloom, you’ll vanish from the world of the living.”

“That’s what I don’t get. Can something really happen just by looking at the cherry blossoms?”

“The only ones who know the truth are the ones who’ve vanished.”

The nekomata, as if recalling something, shifted its gaze toward the cherry tree.

“In the old days, someone used to die under that tree every year. Because of that, humans started to fear it and stopped coming near. And this shrine ended up like this.”

“Heh, I see.”

The moment the nekomata looked away, letting its guard down—

“Gotcha!”

Sayuri’s hands closed around both of the nekomata’s tails.

“Hey! Stop that right now!”

The nekomata roared, its fur standing on end, eyes narrowed in fury.

“Ahahaha! The kitty’s mad!”

Sayuri floated up lightly, holding her stomach as she burst into laughter.
Even being scolded looked like fun to her.

After laughing her fill—

“Sorry, okay?”

she said with her brightest smile.

“Good grief… Don’t you ever do that again! And don’t call me a kitty, either!”

A single cherry blossom petal, caught by the wind, danced gracefully through the air.
Sayuri reached out her hand as if to catch it—
but the petal slipped right through her fingers without ever touching her.

For Sayuri, a floating ghost, it was nothing unusual.