The first cherry blossoms of spring have bloomed. I am 60 years old, and the rite of passage is waiting for me. And more importantly: I want to become the best astrologer in this family!
In the spring when the cherry blossoms bloom, I leave my home. When I came back one spring, the cherry blossoms were blooming even more brilliantly. They are cruel plants, and the more corpses buried beneath them, the more brilliantly they bloom. Its splendor is based on death. It's just that I didn't understand it at that time...