Winter memories

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

A man in his sleepless night. The falling cherry blossoms are remembering him on a snowy night with his first love.
(Idea for this story from anime "5 centimeters per second")

I am looking at the clock. It is already three twenty-eight a.m. I cannot remember how long I have not slept. Certainly for two days and for two nights. This will be the third night. Congratulations. This is my new record. Normal. Everything under four hours of sleep is a new record. Maybe if I did not drank the coffee so ate or if I did not sleep during the day, maybe I could close my eyes now. But I neither drank coffee nor I slept during the day. To be honest, I had spent my whole day toiling like a horse. Was that not enough that I fall tired now it I were dead in my bed, with arms and legs heavy like lead, to sigh once, to turn on the left side and to fall asleep?


It was a pitch dark outside.On the right there is no light, nor on the left.Only those few measly star which are already tired of flashing on the dark blue, almost black sky.Yes, I must not forget the moon.The full moon on the horizon. It is so big. Its cold light, light falling on my outstretched hand. Just unusually to hold my hand, spread out, over the right half of the bed.


I get up slowly and go to the window. A plain wooden windows, dark brown, but not the best notes in the dark room. And my own room looks somewhat desolate and unknown in the dark.The only light comes from the moon.And yet there is enough light just that I can see to get to the window, and not to get stuck somewhere.


Outside, a light wind is blowing.I am noticing it on the petals of the cherry blossom. It is spring and the cherry has just blossomed. However the wind blows it carries the petals with it. It spin them in a circle, make a flip, another round, and they are already falling to the ground.


Cherry petals falling five centimeters per second. This means that in one hour they drop one hundred eighty meters. One hundred eighty meters, it's about the distance from here to the next shop where I always buy my cigarets.This is true, if we take into consideration that my step is one meter long, and the teacher taught me so.I was bored so I counted the steps.


To my job in the hospital, there are exactly two thousand three hundred and forty two steps.Over two kilometers to my job.The next time I am going t take a taxi.I have never even noticed that it is so far. But the journey to get there is very nice


The cherry was so beautiful when the moon falls on her fragile pink petals.Under a cherry like this one, only on a completely different place in a completely different time of year, many years ago, for the first time I kissed my girlfriend.


At that time she was not my girlfriend, not officially. I've had feelings for her, she has feelings for me, but again we never acknowledged it to each other. Although we knew of these feelings. I just had to look at her dark black eyes and I knew that she loves me and that she would die in love with me, and I knew that I will love her until the end of time, and even after that.


It was late evening. Surely it was already past eleven p.m.It was winter and I was just passing through.I went from Shinjuku, where I normally live, according to Ota, where my parents lived.Actually I was in Shinjuku on the studies, and my aunt was kind enough to receive me into their house.


It was the time of winter holidays, so I went home. She was going to wait for me in Konosu.Yes, we lived so far away from each other.As children we were always together, but now, the only thing that bound us were the letters that we were sending to each other.


I know, I could go to her, at least sometimes, but I never did.Her parents did not allow her to go to Shinjuku alone.Once she wanted and everything was prepared for the trip, and all at once she called and canceled.In tears, she explained to me that she can not come to me and that her parents do not permit it.I constrict lika a soggy dog sitting behind the door crying.I know, I could go to her, I know, but I did not.I do not know why.


The snow was falling heavily and it was already certain that I will not arrive on time in Konosu.She told that she is going to wait at seven p.m., and now it was already six thirty-five p.m., and three more stations to her.The question was just how much am I going to be delayed and for how long is she going to wait for me before she give up hurted and went home.


I could imagine her face.I could imagine how her beautiful black eyes are fulling with tears, and how the light is breaks gently trembling while she is trying to stop them not to flow.I felt the bitter lump in her throat, that was acid like corrodes, while the snow falls.


Surely she trembled in the cold.Maybe she was even angry.Perhaps she thought that I forgot about her.


I stood by the door, as if I was in a hurry and as if I wanted to get out on the next station fast as posible. I had three stationes more, and the train was so slow that it could already pass over six stationes.


The snow was falling gently, but very heavily and it was quickly accumulated on the cold ground. Through the door a cold wind was blewing that makes me a pain in the nose.


I remembered the warm summer in Ota, while I was a child. Really, it was abeautiful time. We attended the elementary school together. We were walking to school and come back walking. It was so nice. We spent whole days together. We even were in the same class, bench to bench in the back row next to the window. The only time when we were not together was during the night when everyone of us had to go home. We were together so that the other children have caused us to be a couple in love. I did not mind it much, but I didn't like that they talk like this. From their mouth it sounded somewhat derogatory.


Ever again I looked on my watch. It was an old Omega watch that my grandfather gave me. In fact, he gave it to my mother, and she gave it to me after he died. It was as good as new. Never would have guessed it that my grandfather had it since he was young. It had a white background with silvery needles through which you could see a light yellow-green line. Every time I looked at the watch it seemed to me that the time stood still. Finally I gave up and tucked the watch into my pocket.


It was almost ten p.m. and I had just only one station more before I arrive in Konosu. What dose this mean now? I am already three hours late. Certainly she has already gone home a lng time before, with a broken heart. I can not blame her. She would be a fool to wait for me in the cold and wind up to this time.


But I still had some weird stomach feeling as if someone barreled my soul. This feeling, such as wind inflames the embers, I always re-enkindled the hope that she is still waiting there. All frozen, with red cheeks and with a red nose, while the wind blows her hair around. Without that I wanted it, thinking about her, I closed my eyes and fell asleep. When I woke up, we entered into the railway station Konosu.


The heavy cloud cover fractured bit by bit, and behind the cracks appeared the dark blue sky. The moon jumped out occasionally, only to dive in the next moment behind the clouds. Just a few snowflakes more, gently and tenderly, fluttered down making pirouettes before joining with the other snowflakes.


There was nobody coming out from the train, on the station was no one. Just me and the cold wind. How differently could it be. I glanced at athe big clock that hung on the ceiling of the station. It was ten twelve p.m.. I wondered when was she gone?Did she wait until eight, nine or did she go earlier?


The next train was going tomorrow in the morning. If she was here now – if I had arrived on time we could go together to her house as we had planned.I could eat something warm and spend a nice time with her. I have not seen her since we were kids. But I am going to freeze in the cold waiting for the sun to dawn to warm me a bit.


On the station was a small waiting room. Not really big, a simple cube which fits maybe twenty people, and only if they squeez. Inside were thirteen seats on three walls and on the fourth was a counter where you can buy tickets. Exactly in the middle a narrow range was straight up. On top was a flat plate on which you could cook something. Down it had two doors, one for heating and the another one – with a ashtray – in which the ash was falling.


Inside it was quite warm. Much warmer than outside. It was a beautiful feeling to get from the cold in the hot dice. But after a few moments the warmth began to bite the tips of the fingers and the ears. A silence was ruling, it was only to hear the crackling of wood that burns slowly. It was not a really illuminated room. The only lights that have been reached, was from the area where the counter was and from the stove. The prevalence in the dice had the light from the stove. How ever the fire danced, the light flashing the same, creating shadows on the walls were swaying rhythmically back and forth.


On a green bench (the others were either blue or yellow) there was someone sitting. I stood at the entrance, and since this one was down with his head as if asleeps – and perhaps he was sleeping – I could not work out well. Concluding on the long hair I would say that it is a girl. Yes, certainly it was a girl. Surely not older than me, as I could gather from afar.


She was wearing a beautiful white knitted cap, under which the black hair fell like a waterfall from a high cliff. The coat had the colors of coffee – it was certainly warm – some black trousers – for sure of pure cotton – and deep white boots with fur on top, rounding it to the whole.


Maybe it was stupid, but I immediately thought that this was her. I thought that she stayed waiting for me to come. She have not lose the hope, and was waiting all this time. Who else would make such a thing? But still I was not sure if this was her.


I approached to her softly, almost so quite that my steps were not even heard. I stood a moment above her head, unable to speak a word. I swallowed the lump that was stuck in my throat.


"Yukiko?" - I spoke up with a low uncertain voice

She gently lifted her head. The black eyes that I have misssed so much were shining, and then she with her soft gentle voice, that sounded like when she sing,said my name: "Ta~ma~ki?"

I stood petrified with tightly clenched fists, and I held my arms close to my body.I was shaking my head vigorously while my tears, as if from a fountain, flowed down my face: "Sorry that I am so late." - I barely uttered sobbing and strangling with my own words

All in tears, she stood up and foll down on my neck, silently whispering: “It is okay. You should not be sayng sorry. I knew you would come.”

I was saying nothing, I just lifted my arms and hugged her.

Come...” - she said with his gentle voice – “Sit. For sure you are hungry. I made several Onigiri. I know you have loved themwhen you was a child.” - she smiled, pulling me by the sleeve as she was seating on the green bench. I do not know how I could be without that smile. That smile warmed me more than the fire would in the whole night. Her lips were thin and light pink as a cherry blossom. She had a specific smile. I do not know what was different on it, but it was unique. Gently withdrawn the peaks of her lips to her ears, creating two small indentations, while in the corners of her eyes scattered fine lines.

I still love them.” - I admit sitting down on a yellow bench, and between us, on a blue bench was a red plastic box, and in it five pieces of onigiri.

I am glad that I have not made ??a mistake as I have made?? them.” - she said handing me the box - “Take one. I hope you like it.”

I took one and gently pull off a small piece with my tooth: “Mhh It is very good.” - I praised her smiling - “You are excellent cooker. No what.”

Her lips fluttered, her face deep blushes: “T-Thank you. Take more if you wish. I have made them for you.”

I smiled showing her that I have one in my hand: “Why did I wait so long on me?” - I blurted out

We have not seen each oter for so long, I had no choice than to wait for you.”

“But you could not be sure that I will come.”

She shook her head: “I have know. You had promise me. I knew you would keep your promise.”

I smiled to her eating my onigiri.


We remembered the old times when we were still children playing together. She told me about her new school and how she did not stop to think about me all these years. As in the first letter, she apologized to me that she had not occurred before, but she could not find my address in Shinjuku. We ate all the onigiri and drank all the green tea which she has brought with her. There were ten thirty-five p.m. when the guard asked us to going out of the station because up to tomorrow morning trains do not run more.


We went out where the sky was again covered with thick clouds. The wind was blowing less and flakes was falling thicker. It was really cold. Everytime when one of us expire, the white steam was curling and slowly disappearing, and the coldness was fring in the nose.


We walked squeeze together, on the snow-covered road. The snow creaked under our feet, and the two of us, we silently walked wwith a slow pace. We don't wanted to talk, it was not necessary. Our hearts was telling more than words could ever do. It was enough that we was together, everything else was irrelevant.


Suddenly she stopped under a old cherry and stretched out her hands catching a snowflake: “It is the same as then.”

I turned toward her and smiled knowing that she means the cherry blossoms in Ota. The snowflakes was reminiscent herof the petals of cherry blossoms, like the petals of cherry blossoms has reminiscent her on snowflakes.

“I am really happy that you have come.” - she said somehow saddly – “Just bad that you must go already tomorrow. I have really wished to spend more time with you.”

Don't say so.” - I tryed to console her - “It is not the end of the world. We will see each other again.” - I smiled

 “Idiot.” - she shaked with her head and already in the next moment, her tine lips were bonded on my lips, her hands on my chest. Her soft cold lips were assimilated with my lips. I placed my hand on her back and drew her to my body kissing her. It was my first kiss. Beneath the bare cherry tree, as snow flakes falling on us like bloom petals.


 My heart was pounding in my throat, ever faster and faster, as I feeled her lips on my lips. On my chest I felt her breasts, as my tongue gently crossed over her lips. I felt her warm tears on my cold cheek, as her tonuge was touching my tongue.


 It was to far to go to her house, to late to go. Nearby was a small hut. Abandoned and old, is served to shelter us from the cold. Wrapped in a warm blanket – her head on my shoulder, and my head on her head – we spend the night until the warm rays of the sun, kissing her face, have not wake us up.


That had should be the begining of a love story. Of a eternal love, full of passion and pain, but the heart have not know, and the lips have not want. Just when I had say the words of love. Surely all would end otherwise. I could not, I don' know why, but I just could not.


 In the parting, we have looked for a long time on each other – I in the train, and she on the snow – until the doors have not closed. The last what she have tell me was “Take care”. The doors closed and the train headed.


 I watched her in the distance, in the white landscape, was was slowly disappearing. I love you. Yukiko, I love you. I had should tell her. When not in this moment, than I had should do it latter in a letter or when we meet again, but I have not. I don't know why, but I have never again meet her, neither send a letter to her. I don't know why, but in the end everything was awry.


My love have never pased – the desire are still tearing my heart – I know she feel the same, but she is not here. Im alone in this deserted dark room looking on the charry in front of me, the same one like in that night.

Submitted: January 23, 2013

© Copyright 2023 TomGreen. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:


Iskah E Shirah

That was beautiful :) at first I was confused, but then I figured out that the story was a flashback. Thank you for writing this, I loved it. Even with the rough English, I loved it.

Wed, January 30th, 2013 7:24am


Thanks and sorry for the rough english, but I could not better (I can't speak it better)

Wed, January 30th, 2013 5:02am

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