Page 7 of The Vanishing Cherry Blossom Bookshop

‘My star will be just one of the stars, for you. And so you will love to watch all the stars in the heavens… They will all be your friends ? —’

Before she knew it, a voice had begun to resonate inside her mind.

At first, she thought that a memory of her mother reading to her had resurfaced, but it didn’t quite sound like her.

Mum spoke in a slightly lower tone, didn’t she?

The realisation that she could no longer remember her mother’s voice clearly brought a sharp ache to Mio’s heart.

I guess my memories of Mum will fade over time.

She felt another twinge of pain at the thought.

Mio found herself gazing vacantly at the sky.

How am I supposed to accept that I can’t talk to you anymore?

You could have warned me at least. She knew well that she was being irrational, but she couldn’t stop herself from having these thoughts.

The realisation that she had taken her mother for granted filled her with regret.

She remembered the heat from the urn on her lap that day.

The warmth had made her feel her mother.

Little by little, that warmth quietly faded away, never to return.

Without realising, Mio closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh.

I wish that I could hear her voice reading this book again.

I can’t imagine how she must have felt, raising us while being unfairly burdened with debt.

How did she stay so strong after losing her husband in such a way?

Mio longed to know, even just a little. There was so much that she wanted to ask her.

Not only that – I wish that I could talk to you about me.

The truth is, there are so many things that I’m still unsure and afraid of.

I don’t know how long my job or my manga series will last. I try to avoid social media, but I can sense from the people around me that there has been a lot of backlash against me after the whole ‘plagiarism’ scandal.

To be honest, I’m terrified . Unlike Yoshihiro, I don’t have a family, and there are times when that makes me lonely and anxious about the future.

I long to talk to you about such things.

There’s so much more I want to say to you…

It was at that moment. Feeling as though someone had called her name, she opened her eyes.

Looking around, she found that the path was now completely deserted.

Sitting alone beneath the cherry trees, it was as if Mio had been left behind on her own.

Even the light seemed to have changed, perhaps because it was nearly sunset.

Although the sky was still blue, she could see that the sun had slightly shifted.

Still holding The Little Prince , Mio found herself standing up.

She was pretty sure that she had heard a cat meow in the distance.

Perhaps this was why she thought that someone was calling her.

Thinking that it could be a kitten crying for its mother, Mio turned to the direction of the sound.

At the far end of her view, she could make out an impressive, solitary weeping cherry tree standing high above the ground.

It looked quite different from the somei-yoshino trees next to her.

What was most astonishing, however, was that she was certain it hadn’t been there just a moment ago.

For some reason, Mio began walking towards the tree, her feet carrying her as though they had a mind of their own.

It was quite a mysterious tree. Although it had the branches of an ordinary weeping cherry, its colours were extraordinarily unusual.

At the top of the tree, the blossoms were white, blending almost seamlessly into the fog surrounding it.

But the nearer they were to the tips of the branches which hung low to the ground, the flowers deepened into a reddish hue.

Every now and then, a gust of wind sent the petals scattering, creating an otherworldly ombré of red, white and pink.

Although Mio had seen plum trees with blossoms of varying shades, she had never encountered a cherry tree like this one.

Another meow sounded. This time, it was slightly longer than before.

It was undoubtedly a cat. The voice had come from behind the weeping cherry tree.

As Mio drew herself closer to it, suddenly, the silhouette of a building came into view.

It emerged out of nowhere, like a film abruptly cutting from one shot to another.

She wouldn’t go so far as to say she recognised it, but something about the wooden building evoked nostalgia.

From somewhere in the distance, she could hear the faint melody of classical music playing.

A sign standing in front of the door had the word ‘Sakura’ written on it.

It was one of those foldable chalkboard signs that cafés normally used to write their specials, or even an inspiring quote by the manager.

But this one was rather plain; the double-lined lettering in white and red seemed to be its only attempt to draw any attention.

Even before she had the chance to think about what kind of shop it might be, Mio felt a strong urge to open the door and found herself reaching for the doorknob. It was almost as if she didn’t have a choice in the matter.

Thinking about it properly, it seemed impossible for such a shop to exist at the top of an embankment.

Yet, the moment she touched the doorknob, it turned silently on its own as though it had been anticipating her.

Music drifted through the gap of the opening door.

Now that she could hear it clearly, she recognised the melody.

If she remembered correctly, the piece was called Boléro .

A sense of dignified calm emanated from inside.

Mio heard a female voice reading out loud in time with the rhythm of the music.

No, she wasn’t simply reading out loud, it was something different, though Mio couldn’t put a finger on it.

She wasn’t singing, either. It was almost as though she was saying a prayer.

As Mio peered inside, everything that filled the room – the sounds, the atmosphere and the smell of coffee – hit her all at once.

‘“In one of the stars I shall be living. In one of them I shall be laughing.”’

Standing in front of the door was a young lady who appeared to be in her late teens.

Her hair was neatly cut to the same length at her shoulders.

She was dressed in a white blouse and a burgundy pinafore dress, and Mio could tell by the way she carried herself that she was an attentive server.

To Mio’s surprise, the book the girl was reading from was The Little Prince .

‘“And so it will be as if all the stars were laughing, when you look at the sky at night…”’

With that, she closed the book and turned to face Mio.

‘Welcome,’ she said. ‘We’ve been expecting you, Ms Mio Kisanuki.’

Mio furrowed her eyebrows in surprise. How does she know my name?

she thought. Then, the girl proceeded to direct her to a table which had a ‘Reserved’ sign on it.

Taken aback, Mio quickly scanned the room again.

Was it a bookshop with a coffee shop attached to it?

Or a coffee shop with a big collection of books?

It had to be one or the other. It did seem to have the atmosphere of a traditional coffee shop, but there were books everywhere she looked.

There were bookcases arranged along the walls, and on top of the larger tables were mini bookcases holding small paperbacks and manga-sized books.

There were even books on the edge of the counter, wedged between bookends.

In short, the whole place was brimming with books.

It was only then that Mio noticed the book in her hand. She was still holding her mother’s copy of The Little Prince . What had she done with her bag? She must have left it on the bench. Oh no, I’ve left my phone and my purse…

‘Don’t worry, they won’t go anywhere,’ the girl said, politely prompting her to take a seat.

Not knowing what else to do, Mio lowered herself into the chair. There was so much to take in, she didn’t have enough space in her mind to question how the girl had seemingly read her mind. With her book tucked under her arm, the girl laid down a coaster and napkin in front of Mio.

Without hesitation, the girl continued, ‘I love The Little Prince , too. It’s such a wonderful book, isn’t it?

It’s one of the most widely read works of fiction in history – I’d say it ranks about the fifth in the world, which is unbelievable, of course, as it’s been less than a century since it was first published.

According to records, it’s been translated into several hundred languages.

‘It’s probably the most well-known children’s book of all time,’ the girl went on in a cheerful tone.

‘Of course, whether this is a book for children or grown-ups is a debatable question. It’s certainly not as simple as a picture book.

But one thing most people will agree on is that the author’s splendid drawings make this piece of work truly unforgettable.

Apparently, to achieve these illustrations, Saint-Exupéry often asked his friends to pose for him, even getting them to lie down at times.

He was also very particular about how his artwork was laid out in the book. ’

The girl was wearing a broad smile on her face. Mio, on the other hand, was still struggling to gather her thoughts.

‘Um… Where exactly am I? How did you know my name?’

‘This is my shop. It’s a bookshop, but a rather unusual one. We only recommend one book per customer. What we really offer is a cup of coffee and a very special experience . Oh, and I learned your name from my companion.’