When she passes under the cherry blossoms, her fingertips ache to reach out. Do not carve. Serena glides her fingers, just standing by, and feels for a mark, vandalism being something she has come to expect. She drops her hands, one after the other, against her pleated skirt, but the maroon fabric is crude too. She slumps over to inhale, a solitary figure secreted by branches. Even in the parks garden, she notes, that as soon as the fragrant settles and traps you, there's no longer that particular barrier. In any city, in any town, the same thing, she has difficulty belonging.

She rises to and follows the path leading out, first bench, second, still no signs of a clear exit, third, she can feel her anger increasing, all these people, smiling faces, merriment, she is panicking now, she is afraid of the contagious spread of gaiety. She heads in a different direction, in passing another bench, the fourth, fifth. She finds herself unable to leave, to get away, out of the park. "Why is this happening?" she wonders, smiles, cheers, affectionate glances? She can see young couples barely keeping distance, all she assumed would be in a days work. The children hold heart shaped lollipops, happily singing praises to the mothers that strolled beside them. In turning her slim body, the images disperse into the crowded streets of an early morning Tokyo city. The noise is always the same, a quick flow of moulded bodies, tight pressed, scattered, stinking, (the sought you usually associate with bad body odour). With a flick to her wrist, it becomes a reminder of the harsh and oppressive reality she calls her life, of the daily demons, the battles fought and won.

(However Sammy was dealing with his own matters similar in nature.) When placing the pen to paper, Sam's fingers neatly scribed.

Dearest Sere, I was hoping, well actually I had intended to speak to you earlier, or shortly after your run. But as things have turned out, my actions have lead me to be to slow in catching you. I expect you are not going to be to pleased with me in the near future, you see I do what I see is best for both you and mother. And for me to be able to do this I must leave, not for long I assure you, but for a certain amount of time to insure our stability. You can not possibly tell me that you're happy living with our Aunt, even the small amount of living space you call your own. I've been given an offer you see. It can do wonders for the three of us, but I worry for you still. In me leaving who will comfort you, I'm really sorry for wanting to be selfish just this once, mother still grieves and the best is for you both to make up. Cheer up kiddo; you know it's what dad would have wanted. I'll be back as soon as work permits and no fighting with Rei, which I know gives you great pleasure. Asking for your forgiveness and missing you already your one and only brother Samuel.

He sealed off with his signature smile, turned and left in hopes of catching an already irritated Rei.

Now and again, when I am least expecting it, in the most absurd places, do I find myself running into young striking men. He wears an unpredictable school uniform, unkempt shirt and trousers, which I soon recognise him by the mark worn by students that attended Winterfield. Not like his ruffled clothing, his posture spoke volumes, like some ancient but forgotten king, seeking an audience, out of boredom with a disapproving servant. And on closer inspection, I find myself hypnotized, rooted to the ground like an aged walnut tree, preserved in all its autumn glory. There is no speech between us, an unspoken understanding, a glare and a firm nod releases the spell that bound me to him. I knew nothing of his name; he was one of the students, though he looked a good bit older than the others.

"Leave it Andrew; it's of no importance to us, where already falling behind on time.

"Your probably right, doesn't she know to stay out of my way."

"Probably another admirer let her be, you'll break her heart."

Serena rose, standing, glaring at the figures in passing, which dismissed her like the unwanted dirt on newly polished shoes. She now had a name, Andrew, who she could recognise by his eyes, light shades of blue, hinting at anger and resentment which was aimed at her. Her fingers travel downwards, discovering tiny blotches of dust, marring the once perfect uniform. Agitatedly did she swipe, crouching, sighing, rising to her feet in anticipation of what awaited her further ahead.