"Why aren't people more careful with their children?" I told myself, "Too bad her parents have to learn the hard way."

            Slinking in the dark, I quickly hid behind a cherry tree. This one, like all the other ones, was barren, not in season yet. However, my target stood looking at the tree, playing with a little rag doll. Not for long.

            The little girl looked like any other you'd see, hair done in curls, wearing a fluffy little clump of a dress, talking to her doll as if it would answer. She wasn't important. Just another innocent victim for the ever-feeding sakura she sat next to.

            I approached her nonchalantly, and said hello.

            "Hi mister." She squeaked.

            "How are you?" I smiled.

            "Fine. Want to say hi to my dolly?" she said as she held up her little companion.

            I waved passively at it.

            She smiled, and said, "My name's Ayu. What's yours?"

            I chuckled. She still doesn't address herself properly. Why bother correcting her when she never will? I debated on giving my name to her, since my family is quite notorious in these parts. I guess I'll follow suit.

            "My name's Seishiro." I said, cringing slightly at my informality.

            "Seishiro-san," she said addressing me properly, "Wanna be friends?"

            With a smirk, I responded, "Alright."

            She got up and walked over to me. With her lithe arms, she caught me in an embrace. She backed up from me slightly, and grinned. I knew if I were to strike, now would be the best time. While she babbled mindlessly, my hand instinctively crept along her back, finding where the heart would be located. My fingers prepped themselves, telling me how hard I'd have to force them in. Not too hard apparently. I drew my hand back slightly.

            "Do you know how much I like you?" she smiled.

            I grinned. Then, my hand sharply jabbed into her back. I felt the snap of backbone, followed by the soft warmth of blood. With another small push, my hand pushed its way out the other end. Her expression was priceless. Her big brown eyes widened as she gasped in pain and desperation.

            "I'm assuming your love for me was to die for." I smiled.

            She twitched, weakly struggling, then went limp.

            I pulled off the wretched corpse, tossing it onto the ground. I looked at my arm, now covered in her blood. One of the few setbacks of being an assassin was to expect your best clothes to stain.

            "And to think I just got this dry-cleaned." I muttered.

            I looked up at the cherry tree. The petals started falling down to the earth. It seemed so beautiful…and hungry. I dragged the little body and pulled apart some roots. I crammed her inside, well tried to. This one was being difficult, since her legs still stuck out. Then, I heard footsteps. In desperation, I shoved the last bit into the tree and covered it up. I said a quick chant under my breath while I turned to see who was coming. A small white figure walked over me. As it came closer, my breath was taken away. It was a little boy, looking about 9-10 years old, with glossy jet-black hair framing his pale skin. His emerald eyes shone pure innocence. His dress was slightly unusual for a boy of his age, for he was wearing white ceremonial robes. He seemed to walk with grace and pride, or he was trying to not get himself dirty. Either way, he approached me, and looked up at me, then turned his attention to the tree. The petals fell gently down on him, and he looked at them with wonder, and then glared at it slightly.

            "Do you like sakura?" I asked.

            He looked at me startled, then responded, "Yes."

            I must of scared him, the poor thing.

            "Why are cherry trees so pretty?" he asked.

            I adored his innocence. His heart seemed so untainted by the world. He reminded me of a young lamb. I looked down at him, and said, "You know why they blossom every year?"

            His attention was caught.

            "Because there are corpses buried under them."

            "Corpses?"

            "Yes. Cherry trees are really supposed to be pure white, like snow."

            He looked at me quizzically.

            "They turn this beautiful shade of pink because they feed on the blood of the corpses under the tree."

            "But don't the people under the tree feel any pain?" he asked.

            I saw the expression in his eyes, full of inquisition and sympathy. I knew from just seeing those glossy emerald eyes that he was the type that didn't want to see anyone suffering. He was so painfully innocent, and beautiful. I never knew someone could so beautiful…well except mo…but nevertheless, this boy was beautiful. I smiled, and kneeled down to his height.

            "I'm going to make you a promise." I said.

            "A promise?" he asked

            I leaned up to his ear. I remember hearing the gust of wind, carrying the soft cherry blossom petals along as I whispered in his ear.

            "I can't hear you…the wind." He wined.

            I drew back and told him as he looked up at me curiously, "So today…I'll let you live."