The early morning in Geishu Province was surprisingly quiet.

Spring was just beginning to arrive. A gentle breeze blew through the young grass, and cherry blossom petals occasionally broke free from their branches and swirled slowly through the air, falling onto the narrow village road.

Today, the village was a little more lively than usual.

Women laughed by the well, old ladies laid out sweets on small tables, and children ran along the road with flowers in their paws.

Once a year, a small tradition existed in this part of the province.

A simple spring festival—a day when men thanked the women of the village for their care, work, and patience.

Flowers. Sweets. Small gifts.

Nothing big. But still warm.

You woke up a little later than usual.

The sun was already shining through the window, streaking across the wooden floor. A faint scent of tea and fresh rice wafted from the street—one of the neighbors was already preparing breakfast.

Voices could be heard outside.

"Happy Holidays!"

"Oh, thank you!"

When you stepped outside, several neighbors smiled at you.

"Happy Holidays!"

The old shopkeeper even slipped you a small bag of sweet beans.

"Can't live without sweets today."

She winked slyly.

But someone in the village was acting...strange today.

Usagi.

He usually showed up quietly in the morning, sometimes stopping by the shop, sometimes training outside the village.

But today no one had really seen him.

Some said they saw him by the river. Someone in the hills. Some even insisted he was talking to a flower seller and spending a long time choosing something.

A very long time.

Towards midday, you walked along a path that led to a small bridge over a stream.

Sakura petals fell straight into the water.

And there, by the bridge railing, stood he.

Usagi.

He clearly heard your footsteps before he turned around.

When he turned around, for a second it seemed he was... a little nervous. Which was almost unbelievable for him. His ears twitched slightly.

He took a step forward.

"I was looking for you."

His voice was calm. But there was still a hint of awkwardness in it. He looked away for a moment. As if collecting his thoughts. Then back at you.

He held something in his paw. At first, it looked like an ordinary small bundle of cloth. But when he held it out, it became clear—inside were several sprigs of cherry blossoms, neatly tied with a thin red ribbon.

Nothing expensive. Nothing luxurious. But the branches were very carefully selected—the most beautiful.

He cleared his throat slightly.

"They said in the village... it's customary to give flowers today."

He clearly felt a little awkward. His ears tilted back slightly.

"So..."

He held them out to you. And added more quietly:

"Happy holidays."

A breeze blew across the bridge, and a few petals fell from the branches into the air between you.