a thousand cherry blossoms dissolve into the night

[mementosola]

[The year is 2038, and for some people turning twenty, there is celebration. A feeling of reaching adulthood, or at the very least, an unhealthy amount of booze.

For other people, there's running clear across Setagaw when time stopped and exploding a Harvester in a single, casual gesture. She's not worried there are too many; she's worried about what certain people may have done to thin out the numbers.]

Retsu!