A Forgotten Love Story

We met in the shade of a cherry blossom tree, before there was such a thing as seasons. It was the same place we would die. The place our love would live forever. 

Sen carried a sword that first day. Our valley lived in the shadows of war. I scolded him for bringing a weapon to such a beautiful place. He told me I was naive. That violence doesn’t care what a place looks like, only that it is left unguarded. 

I stayed quiet. Looked anywhere but him. Projected cold like the mountain winds. 

Sen carried flowers on the second day. He thought their beauty would win me over. I scolded him again. There were enough flowers on the trees to keep me happy. He had killed something without good cause. Sen left without saying anything more.

I sat happily in my peace then. It’s so hard to convince people to leave you alone. 

On the third day, Sen brought me tea. His smile was bright like the sun. I told him I wasn’t thirsty. He made me hold the cup anyway, saying my personality needed warming or it would freeze the cherry blossoms. I offered him a nod of thanks. 

After, we sat together in silence. I sipped my tea. Felt its warmth. Felt content.

On the fourth day, Sen bought nothing. It was perfect. If only he’d come like that the first time. I offered him my name: Yoshino. We talked of the war. Of possible peace. He shared his warrior dreams. I said I wanted to be an artist. Day faded into night.

Still we talked together. Alone as one. Until, we heard the approach of soldiers. 

Their eyes turned cold when they saw us. One beast taunted us for being out at night. Another made lewd jokes about how Sen had no sword. Theirs might please me better. The soldiers didn’t care how beautiful our hope was, only that it was left unguarded.

I stayed quiet. Looked anywhere but them. Projected cold like the mountain winds. 

But the soldiers didn’t leave. They circled around our tree. Sen stood at the ready, poised for what might come. I tried to reason with them. Told them that the valley needed families. Our blossoming future was what they were supposed to protect.

We stood in silent fear then. It’s so hard to convince people to leave you alone.

The ringing of steel broke the silence. Sen shouted for them to go. The rage of battle shouted back. Sen grappled with one soldier. Another moved behind him. I leapt in as a shield. Burning heat pierced my stomach. The soldiers saw what they’d done and ran.

Sen pulled me to him. Our first embrace. I smiled at the heat, as cold claimed my body.

Sen held me close and wept. He apologized for not protecting me. Yet, I was glad I could protect him. Now he could continue his warrior dreams. Still, he held me. Told me he’d never leave me. As I died, Sen’s heart turned to stone, his body along with it.

Even now, we embrace under the cherry blossom tree. Our love story has been forgotten by people but is remembered by the valley. Remembered by the tree.

The blossoms fall in Sen’s tears place, then bloom again like our love.

Summer heat remembers the battle.

Cold mountain winds howl at my death.

The seasons of Yoshino and Sen.

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This story was inspired by the wonderful art of Mona Finden.