Osaka, April 2005
"Sugi wa Sakuranomiya. Sakuranomiya desu. The next station is Sakuranomiya."
Delicious, I told myself as I browsed through one of those BEST 100 RAMEN SHOPS IN KINKI, SPRING 2005. Just a few stops more before the transit. I loved travelling on the Osaka Kanjo-sen. In a loop, I was able to see some of the most colourful sights of this Tokyo-rivalling city. And it was also on this train, at this particular moment that I saw you standing there, beaming under the sunlight, through the window.
I knew I had to make a stop here. I knew I had to see you. Perhaps a short konichi-wa, just. Ramen (and okonomiyaki and takoyaki) at Shinsaibashi can wait.
You blushed. Against your porcelain skin. It warmed my heart. My Ohana-chan, spring never felt so good. Until now.
We spent many a day together and I could go on talking about the hanamis, the picnics and sake that filled our spring. You made me believe in April's Snow. Live and die gloriously, that's your way of life. But acceptance was a painful curse of the cruel summer.
I read of your rebirth and now, you are back in Osaka again. But this is the closest I can get to you and there's no way that I'll be able to fill that empty, colourless space in me again. So, my Ohana-chan, let me dedicate this whole month to you. Let me drown my sorrow in Japanese food. Let me relive those beautiful, eternal days. Let me feel close to you again.
For you are worth every moment of this torment.
Every single moment, my Ohana-chan.