Chapter 1
Sakura Seishin Kōtōgakkō
The waves pounded against the cliffs; the cottage’s foundations shook under the assault. The wind tore through the high sprays, creating crests of white foam that crashed down. Sometimes, a ray of sunshine passed through, painting ephemeral rainbows before skies darkened anew.
There wouldn’t be any bodyboarding today; despite her familiarity with the ocean, Elyna knew diving into those treacherous currents would be folly. Neither her father, nor her brother, would allow a dive in. Cornwall’s winter storms were not to be trifled with.
The rafters of their sturdy cottage creaked; its thick walls impervious to the unleashed fury. A great fire crackled in the hearth, releasing the familiar aroma of smoke and grandma’s old furniture. Both Elyna and Aksel started as a fresh wave of rain hit the glass pane like a whip.
The ocean is furious.
Plastered against her back, the boy had wrapped his arms around her front like a vice. Guilt gnawed at her at the idea of leaving the gangly limbed teenager on his own. He may be eighteen, but she could still glimpse the boy she’d hidden in cardboard boxes as a child.
Elyna’s gaze remained fixed on those beloved waves; a refuge after years of constant moving, following their mother’s assignments around the world.
Every three years another country: new schools, new languages, new temporary friends that would inevitably be left behind.
Every time, a tiny Elyna, with eyes filled with hope, asking her mother, “Is it Japan this time?”
No matter how she grew, the answer was always no. The girl took it in stride, swallowing her disappointment in wait of the next assignment.
When, at last, their parents accepted the failure of their marriage, their family had been stationed in Mexico. After the divorce, both Elyna and Aksel had chosen Cornwall. Chosen their father’s calm ways over their mother’s relentless career drive. Here, in the Trewith cottage, they belonged.
“Are you sure, Elyna?” Her father’s voice was quiet, but vibrant. In his intonations, she could hear everything he wasn’t saying. It’s not too late to change your mind.
Except that her suitcase was done, and her plane taking off from Plymouth airport in three hours. But David Trewith wasn’t averse to changing plans. “You’ll always have a place here, you know that.”
Elyna nodded, heart flooding with the warmth of acceptance.
The price of what she left behind was heavy; the quiet rhythm of their little trio, with comfortable silence and easy laughter.
The ocean and its moods. Her father’s steady presence: a safety net, never a cage.
Especially when he listened without judgement, nursing a cup of tea in that old mug her mother had tried to trash a thousand times.
“You really want to move again Sis?”
Aksel’s words weren’t meant as an insult, but they hurt all the same.
Do you want to be like Mum, a constant hopper that never settles?
Six years in west Britain had allowed them to heal, reform bonds and finally grow roots deep enough to feel stable.
And then… her mother’s phone call had shattered the status quo with one single word.
Japan. She’d been transferred to Tōkyō. Elyna’s absolute weakness. A siren’s call.
“This is my last country, Aksel.” Elyna’s arms tightened around his, squeezing once. “But I’ve dreamt about Japan for so long…” she responded. “I need to try at least once.”
A stubborn silence settled. A rueful smile crept up her lips; she could feel Aksel’s sour mood. “Hey, Brother. It’s the country of technology and samurai and—”
“Rigidity?” Aksel interrupted with a teenage pout.
“It’s called discipline,” she corrected, trying to shrug his embrace. To no avail: the boy was clamped more tightly than a mussel on its rock. “And it’s the reason why they have bullet trains.”
Aksel refused to accept defeat. “France has bullet trains.”
"...on time.”
Her father’s lips twitched, fine lines deepening around his blue eyes. “Fair point. Who are we to prevent you from experiencing your dream, eh Aksel?”
The boy’s arms tightened, relentless: “You know she’s going to do everything to convince you, right?”
Yes, she was. The career driven Katrine Eriksen had probably mapped out every engineering firm in Tōkyō, ready to steer her daughter away from teaching ambitions.
Her mother’s demands terrified her, those high expectations she called love.
But Elyna wasn’t one to back down for a challenge.
Even if said challenge demanded she taught in yet another country, one that had no use for the Latin alphabet.
“Then I’ll show her I can be a good teacher, and that it's a career worth choosing.”
This was the turning point of her life: to chase a dream, or to crumble under pressure and hide in her refuge.
She would miss Aksel and his dry humour, and the string of smitten girls that trailed him.
Perhaps the cottage itself would miss her.
Especially that armchair in front of the hearth where she always curled, a book in hand.
Yet, far across the sea, her dream awaited.
One born little by little, starting with an ice-skating anime when she still used to practise.
Then poetry, art, and the way beauty could be found in the smallest, most fleeting moments.
The Zen attitude, where every breath was a discovery.
Their values, which spoke to her chivalric heart.
Elyna felt the pull; across the continent, Japan was the very first country she actively chose to live in. It would either rebuild her, or crush her.
For the first time in her life, the choice had been entirely hers.
“I’m sure, Dad,” she finally said, her voice wavering slightly. “Besides, you know it won’t be long before Mum gets fed up with the culture and asks for a transfer again. I can always return in two or three years, and become an old maid who lives with her father, her brother, and the sea…”
Elyna caught a glimpse of a black and white tail lazily dancing by the window. “… and Nyan.”
Aksel’s arms tightened around her as he buried his chuckle in her shoulder. “That cat’s name is Kitty. And I’m not living with a spinster,” he laughed, his voice muffled by her wool jumper. “If you return with your tail between your legs, I’m moving out.”
Elyna did not turn, but she knew her father harboured this half smile that lit up his eyes.
They stayed by the window for a long time, watching waves crash into the cliffs like knights trying to break a fortress.
But the rocky outcrops wouldn’t relent; by the end of the day, Elyna knew the cottage would still stand proudly, even though she would be thousands of feet in the air.
36 hours later.
Elyna: Sent a selfie at Narita International airport
Elyna: Japan, here I come!
Askel: Have fun, Sis, missing you already.
Elyna: Sent anther picture. ??Holy f…, have you seen the size of the spiders here?
Aksel: Told you to come home ?? Don’t get eaten in your sleep
Elyna: Damnit! I’ll never sleep again!
April 5th, 2018
The sleek car pulled away without a sound, taking her mother to the pharmaceutical company that claimed most of her time.
It was early enough; there were barely a few souls wandering in the courtyard.
Elyna was too busy picking her jaw off the pavement to linger on the probability of Katrine Eriksen finally being stationed in Japan after all those years.
There were more urgent matters that called for her attention. Namely, the imposing gates of the High School she would be working for. Elyna’s legs felt like noodles as she passed them, two pillars of concrete decorated with golden engravings.
桜西神高等学校—Sakura Seishin High School
Amongst flowers, the cherry blossom; amongst men, the warrior
A strong message, born from decades of honing kendo—Japan’s most revered martial art. The proverb may seem stern, a poetic tribute to warriors who, like cherry blossoms, reached their pinnacle right before falling.
Elyna watched the elegant lines, eyebrows scrunched as she mused about Japanese classics. Doom and beauty. To stand here was a privilege, especially for a history nerd.
She took a deep breath and pushed ahead, feeling the weight of duty settle on her shoulders.
Everywhere, sakura petals drifted like pink snow, descending from the massive cherry tree that adorned the courtyard.
Further down, a traditional dōjō stood proudly, with its tilted tiled roof and wooden beams. An old symbol, akin to the cherry tree, stacked in between modern buildings.
Her lips curled into a soft smile; this felt like stepping into dreamland.
She tugged at the hem of her blouse, hoping her mother’s keen eye for clothing would help her blend in. The long skirt fell at her calves, conservative and professional. Indoor shoes waited in her bag. What if I’ve messed up the dress code?
A knot formed in her chest, familiar anxiety that she tried to breathe away. As if on cue, a soft petal landed on the back of her hand—a reminder that she was here, now, living her dream.
Mind grasping at straws of familiarity to avoid a complete breakdown, Elyna felt faint. Breathe. You’ve done it before. Italy, Mexico, Britain. And you speak better Japanese than you ever did Italian or Spanish.
Nine months of crash courses and relentless learning had earned her this position: International Education Assistant at Sakura Seishin Kōtōgakkō. Perhaps they wouldn’t keep her. If they didn't… could she stand on her own two feet? Would she have to bow to her mother's wishes?
Elyna rolled her shoulders to loosen her back muscles. There was no use anticipating failure. After all, wasn’t impermanence what made moments precious?
She tilted her head back to watch soft petals twirl against the blue sky:
“The cherry blossom,
the very season of spring,
is not eternal.”
—Murasaki Shikibu