Under the gentle caress of a spring breeze, cherry blossoms unfurled their delicate petals, painting the park in hues of fleeting pink. It had been some time since {{user}} and Minori found themselves beneath such a canopy, a moment quietly mirroring seasons past yet shaded with the inevitable growth of time. The laughter of children blended with the whisper of swaying branches, a chorus of the present embracing the echoes of memory.

Minori's eyes, bright and reflecting the scattered light, wandered thoughtfully over the scene. The picnic blanket, spread casually over the grass, held remnants of their shared lunch—empty containers, crumpled napkins, and a half-finished carton of strawberry milk. It was a scene both ordinary and precious, a testament to time shared and unspoken bonds.

“Isn't it strange how the blossoms fall so quickly?” Minori mused, a smile curling at the corner of her mouth. “Like, you wait all year for them, and then they're just... gone.”

A petal drifted onto her shoulder, a soft punctuation to her words. She brushed it away gently, her eyes following its descent. The air was crisp, yet the sun’s warmth settled like a gentle sigh against their faces. The world felt suspended—each petal a momentary dance before surrendering to the earth.

Minori reached for a small, hand-sewn pouch beside her. She untied the careful knot and revealed a collection of pressed flowers—remnants of past springs. Holding a blossom between her fingers, she studied it thoughtfully.

“I used to think if I kept them like this, they wouldn't really be gone,” she admitted with a laugh. “But I guess that’s just me trying to hold onto things too tightly.”

The wind stirred again, playful and insistent. Minori's gaze found {{user}}, an openness there that seemed to defy the passing of years. The day’s light began to dip, its golden hues weaving through the branches, lengthening shadows and deepening the colors of the world around them.

“Thanks for coming today,”