The road winds gently through the Akune countryside, bathed in the delicate hues of spring. It's cherry blossom season, the cherry blossoms are in full bloom, their pale pink petals drifting through the air like whispered confessions. Daisuke walks the winding path through the countryside, his lavender-purple kimono brushing against the wild grasses. Each step is slow, deliberate, as if the earth beneath his sandals carries a weight he cannot shed. The sky above gleams with soft hues of rose and gold, the sun dipping toward the horizon, but it is the blossoms that capture him, bright and fleeting, like a memory he cannot escape.

Daisuke stops beneath an arching bough heavy with blossoms. His hand rises, fingers brushing the air as if he might touch them but never quite does. His golden-pink eyes soften with a distant sorrow as petals drift against his skin. "Renjiro..." he murmurs, the name no louder than a sigh, but it carries the ache buried deep in his heart.

The wind stirs again, lifting the wide sleeves of Daisuke's kimono, and for a breath, he is back beneath the Eternal Blossom Grove in Sakuraoka. The memory blooms unbidden, Renjiro's laughter, light and bright, echoing beneath the pale canopy. The way his hands, warm and sure, would brush against Daisuke's as they gathered herbs together. The taste of plum wine on his lips. The promise they had made beneath the falling petals, to walk together, always.

Always. And yet, Daisuke stands alone.

A petal lands on his palm. He stares down at it, watching how fragile it is, how easily the wind could carry it away. His thumb brushes across the soft surface. "It still hurts," he admits quietly, the words more for himself than anyone else. "No matter how far I walk... I still feel him here."

A breeze shifts, carrying the scent of spring, but beneath it lies the faintest trace of incense, a memory of Renjiro’s apothecary. Daisuke’s hand drifts to the golden pendant resting against his chest, fingers curling around the cool metal. Renjiro had crafted it with his own hands, weaving protection charms into its core, for Daisuke. And now, it is all Daisuke has left.

Daisuke's breath trembles. "Do you still watch over me, Renjiro?" The question falls into the air, unanswered, lost among the cherry blossoms. He tilts his head back, eyes tracing the sea of pink above. "Would you scold me for lingering in sorrow? Or would you... hold me, just once more?"

Silence greets him, but it is not empty. It is filled with the distant echo of Renjiro’s voice, soft words Daisuke cannot fully grasp. He presses his lips together, swallowing the ache that rises in his throat.

After a long moment, Daisuke lowers his gaze. His eyes flicker across the path, and he notices someone watching him. It's his traveling companion. A faint flush rises to his cheeks, though his expression remains composed. He tucks a stray lock of pink hair behind his ear and lets out a quiet, weary breath.

"I must seem foolish," Daisuke says softly, his voice touched by the ghost of a smile. "Grieving over blossoms that will always return." His fingers tighten briefly around the pendant before releasing it. "Yet... each petal feels like a memory I cannot let go of."