[I still don't have an answer to that question.]

She mused past thoughts in her head as she walked. Her ankles clicked together, her uniform shoes neatly polished for the start of the new year. They were plain and brown, just as the school liked them. Much like her uniform, the crisp grey skirt with the solid navy blazer. Nothing too flashy. Nothing out of place. 

But it was hard for Kamio Tsuru not to feel out of place. Many students like her were still grappling with the ever-present questions: Who are you? Who will you become? 

Her parents had been posing the questions for a while now, and it had been getting rather annoying. Tsuru knew that they were just trying to look out for her, but it was hard to appreciate your parents' nagging when you didn't know the answers, nor how to find them.

She kicked her bag forward, feeling its contents shifting inside. She had to be careful. It would be bad if everything spilled out before class. 

As she walked Tsuru glanced up at the cherry trees along the edges of the road. The locals had planted them a long time ago, and now they had grown into giants that reached out to the sky. From the branches blossomed soft pink flowers. 

[The sakura are pretty this year.]

Tsuru wondered how long they'd be around this year. She hoped they'd stay into May, but that was wishful thinking. In this world, all good things had to come to an end, otherwise, there would be no way for them to begin anew. This world, this life, all of it was a cycle of birth, death, and rebirth. 

One day Tsuru would transition in that cycle, but that was a long way off from now. 

At the moment the most important thing was her doing well in school. 

She checked her watch.

[I still have lots of time.]

If she kept her pace now she would make the next train and be at school within the hour. If she stretched it she could take the next train, but then she might have to run to make the gates on time. 

Picking up her speed, Tsuru made toward the station. It would probably be best if she caught the earlier train after all.

As she sped-walked down the sidewalk a spring breeze blew past. Tsuru paused to tuck her hair behind her ear. 

[I should really tie it up.] 

But Tsuru had forgotten her hair elastic. She might have one in her bag, but she didn't feel like stopping to get it out right this second. Could she make it to the station before her hair became a problem? 

[Only one way to find out.]

Tsuru tucked as much hair as she could gather behind her neck, twirling it so it might stay out of her face a while longer. 

A couple of cherry blossom petals dappled her hair. She tried to brush them off, though she may have missed some on the back of her head. The ones she did get drifted to the ground like snow. 

"Kirei," said a voice.

Tsuru turned around to see a girl about grade-school age. She guessed the earlier years, likely second or third grade. The girl wore a cute little cap and bright coloured shirt. Strapped to her back was a metallic backpack, whose straps she squeezed tightly.

"Pretty," the girl said again.

Tsuru followed the girl's gaze up to the tree. "Hai," she replied. "They're beautiful this year." 

Then she thought of an idea. 

Her hands moved without thinking, unzipping her bag and retrieving something from inside. 

Tsuru crouched before the girl and set a piece of paper flat on her knees.

"Watch this."

She began to fold.

There was only one square of paper, blush pink on one side, white on the other. Tsuru knew plenty of patterns that involved more than one sheet, but she had not the time for such a feat. 

Quickly, she used familiar folds to craft together a four-petalled blossom with four matching anthers. She used her finger to poke the anthers of the flower upward, then pinched the petals to curl them back.

The girl beamed.

"Sugoi! That's really, really cool! How did you do that?"

Tsuru smiled. She placed the origami flower into the girl's outstretched hands. The girl picked it up and examined it close to her eyes.

"Take good care of it," Tsuru said. "It doesn't need any water, but it'll bloom for as long as the sakura remain. Ah, but don't worry. If you keep it safe the flower will come back next year when the sakura return. That, I can promise you for sure."

"What do you mean by that?"

The girl did not understand.

Tsuru simply smiled. "If you want, you can put it at your window where you can see it every day, just like the sakura blossoms we see every year."

Though the girl still did not quite understand, she nodded eagerly.

Something in Tsuru's pocket buzzed. She started and pulled out her phone.

Where are you? one of her friends had texted.

Tsuru seethed. "Ah. I better get going. Later!" she waved to the girl as she left.

The girl watched the onee-san disappear down the street. She had no idea who the high school girl was, but she thought that what she had shown her was pretty neat. 

She closed her fingers around the origami flower, carefully, though, so she would not crush it. 

She decided she was going to follow the onee-san's advice and keep the flower safe. She would put it by her window where it would get the best sunlight. Hopefully, next year the flower would continue to bloom just like the onee-san had said.

And so the girl did just that. 

The origami flower did indeed bloom, and the girl admired it from its special place at her window. And as the onee-san said, the flower did wilt and wither, turning into a crumpled pink ball. 

The girl's mother tried to throw it out, but the girl made sure to save it in the space underneath her book shelf. 

She waited patiently through the seasons, holding onto the onee-san's promise that the flower would one day bloom again. 

As time passed, the girl forgot about the flower, and it gathered dust under the shelf. She went on to awe at other things: movies, books, games, and the like. 

Summer came with the hot ocean winds. Autumn passed like the auburn leaves. Winter flurried away all memories of the year before.

When at last spring came calling again, the sakura trees woke from their slumber. The familiar pink blossoms sprouted on their woody branches, and soon enough the whole neighbourhood was covered with flowers.

The girl, now a year older, stood a little taller on her way home from school. She had forgotten about the onee-san's flower, but now as she saw the blossoming trees she thought to herself, hadn't she been waiting for them to come back?

While the girl pondered over what it could possibly mean, she spotted a blur of a grey pleated skirt. Looking up, she saw a high schooler making her way around the corner. She walked with another girl her age, and they seemed to be heading home as well.

"I tried out a new pattern yesterday," the first girl was saying. She twisted her long hair behind her back, though the locks quickly unravelled.

"I want to try and make more kinds of flowers."

It was then that the girl remembered. She had met an onee-san just like that a year before, and that person had given her something special.

The girl wasted no time in running back home. She kicked off her shoes in the genkan and ran up the stairs to her room. She was not sure exactly what she was looking for, but she felt certain she would be able to find it.

It was not under her bed, nor in her closet or with her toys. It was not in the bathroom or the living room or in the shoe closet, either. Where could it have gone?

The girl sat down in the middle of her room to think. Her mother had always told her that sometimes sitting and thinking would help you remember things. Apparently, the old men who wrote big books were very good at it, so the girl would try to be good at it, too.

A place where something forgotten would go... A place where her mother would not find it...

The girl's eyes snapped open. She got down on her hands and knees and looked under her book shelf. Her eyes were met with a spray of dust and stray hairs. Coughing, she reached underneath and felt around. 

Her fingers touched something solid. Pulling it out, the girl found a small crumpled ball of paper in her palm. It hardly looked interesting except for its soft colour. 

Blowing off some of the dust, the girl brought the ball of paper over to the window. She set it down on the window sill and pushed it into the light.

Then she waited.

Slowly, the ball began to tremble. The girl's eyes widened as she watched the ball form into a sort of package. That package then opened into four petals that curled downward. Four anthers pointed up from the centre, which was a bright pink. 

The flower bloomed into the light, mirroring the sakura reflected in the window from the garden.

The girl grinned. The onee-san's promise had come true. 

The flower last year had withered and gone away, and the girl had forgotten about it. 

But now as spring came around once more, so too did the paper flower.

The girl rested her chin in her palms and sighed happily.

"Arigatō, Kami-Onee-san."

––––––––––

Arigatō - thank you

Kami - paper

Onee-san - "big sister"; term also used for girls who are older than you 

Origami - Japanese paper folding

Sakura - cherry blossom