Japan, the land of cherry blossoms.
Gin wasn't sure if he was Japanese originally - probably not, but his memory was horrific when it didn't involve work. Besides, he'd been so long in this country of cherry blossoms and technology and crowded streets that it didn't matter where he came from or went, it had left it's mark on him.
Cherry blossoms. Faint, fleeting things, Japan's symbol of death and rebirth. The things died so fast, so quickly, but they came back every spring.
Rather like a certain missing operative.
Sherry's life was gone, dead - she'd killed her herself. But she had slipped out of the shackles to be reborn in a new life, one that was being especially difficult to find her in.
Snorting and grinding his cigarette butt into the ground with his heel, and he strode to his waiting car. Rebirth or not, he'd find her. And that strange guy she'd been with too.
The blossoms wouldn't bloom anymore if you cut down the tree.
Starting up his car, ignoring Vodka's question, Gin drove off into the night, the Porsche's black body sliding into the night and disappearing.
Cherry blossom petals gently drifted through the space he'd left.
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