beneath the sakura blossoms

Prologue

As a child, I was always in one place. I never moved to a different house, and we never traveled. I never switched schools either. The kindergarten through 12th-grade red brick school building was the only education system I had endured.

There was, of course, another place I was familiar with. That was my grandparent's 16th-century antique house that smelled of old floral perfume and those crumbly mint candies they give out at restaurants. It was a weird combination, but I guess I didn't mind it as much as I should have.

The idea of change in itself can be terrifying, so most children I can assume would have loved the halcyon lifestyle I was unwillingly committed to. I was, however, conflicted.

I don't like emotional change at all. For example, a significant other leaving or growing up and maturing. In fact, I almost broke down when I realized truly how different the world is through the tired eyes of an adult and the bright-eyed glance of a hopeful child. By this, I mean: The world is only how you perceive it. By delving into an AP Psychology course during my junior year, I'm fully aware that this world view is called the 'framing effect.' But that speech can be saved for a different time.

The types of change are so opposite from each other, I can confidently say I'd heavily prefer having an ache for physical change. It gets really dull if you know what I mean. I go back to school, and I see the same people. I turned my boring painted grey car into the same driveway for the same house and down the same roads every day. This was precisely why, when I was allowed to study abroad- I left skid marks, diving straight into change and whisking myself away into a world beneath the blossoming sakura trees.