Cherry Blossoms and Fireworks
Japanese people have an intense love for cherry blossoms. They usually call flower viewing *hanami*, which literally means “looking at flowers,” but for them, the flower in *hanami* is practically synonymous with cherry blossoms.
The delicate petals that flutter down like snow in the wind, combined with their brief two-week bloom, only make their beauty more radiant. The idea that something is more beautiful because it disappears? That kind of feeling. In any case, it’s precisely that sentiment that makes the Japanese adore cherry blossoms.
The reason I’m talking about cherry blossoms is because, as the newest member of the HR Development Center’s Education Support Team 2, I was the one who had to secure our spot for the flower-viewing party. When I asked Mimata Chieri about it, she told me it was a job for the youngest employee who still didn’t have much real work on their plate. The expression on her face as she said it was filled with the pure relief of someone who no longer had to do it. Her smile bloomed like a flower in full glory. She was clearly thrilled.
The youngest employee in question wasn’t exactly happy about it, but if it had to be done, it had to be done. Fortunately, Yotsukaido Central Park—right next to the HR Development Center and a popular spot for its employees to hold cherry blossom viewings—was available. If I got up a little early, I figured I could grab a decent spot.
Today had been quite exhausting. In the morning I’d been dragged around by Shinone Misano and worked to the bone, then finished the tasks assigned to me in a short time, shared lunch with Mimata Chieri, handled the afternoon workload, exercised to check my newly increased Strength stat, went home, ate, showered, and now here I was. At least my commute was only a five-minute walk, so my life was far more relaxed than most people’s.
It was too early to sleep, so I lay down on the bed and turned on the wall-mounted TV positioned where I could see it without even lifting my head. Nothing interesting was on, so I decided to watch the news. When I switched to the news channel, the announcer was explaining something with a slightly flustered expression.
“What’s going on?”
What the hell is this? I opened the wiki on my phone and searched for Jinildang. The first result labeled them as a Japanese terrorist organization. I scrolled down to read the details.
I needed to start with the historical background. During World War III, the Japanese government, unable to revise its constitution, created the PMC Public Enterprise Act and began operating a military through legal loopholes.
They essentially turned mercenary companies into public enterprises and ran them like an army. It worked surprisingly well during the war. But once the war ended, the government had to spend money on reconstruction and areas neglected during the conflict. Maintaining the PMCs was incredibly expensive. On top of that, they had created far too many during the war, turning them into a political burden.
So the government kept only a few and converted the rest into private companies or shut them down entirely. That turned out to be a massive mistake. Suddenly unemployed, armed ex-soldiers disappeared into the shadows.
Some of them joined the yakuza or formed their own criminal organizations in the underworld. Others went to work for megacorporations. And some radicalized into far-right terrorist groups that demanded the restoration of absolute imperial rule.
Jinildang was the last category. A group fueled by extreme right-wing ideology, they fantasized about restoring the Emperor system and recreating a Northeast Asian Co-Prosperity Sphere. The problem was that their method was terrorism.
Even if it was terrorism, they could have targeted American military bases that had destroyed the Emperor system during World War II, or attacked pro-Japanese organizations that manipulated the country according to their delusions. Instead, Jinildang was a bunch of lunatics who carried out random, indiscriminate attacks.
The wiki listed numerous terrorist incidents caused by Jinildang. From 2045, the year World War III ended, until now—eight years later—they had committed nearly five hundred acts of terror. That was basically one attack per week. Of course, the peak had come when the Japanese government cracked down on PMCs after the war, but even afterward they continued to carry out major attacks at intervals, as if advertising their own existence.
But… in this situation, did we really have to go through with the cherry blossom viewing? Just in case, I turned on my phone and opened the Line group chat for our team. It was quiet. No one had said a word.
Still, I decided to message Shinone Misano anyway.
Taira Ryuta: Team Leader, there’s a terror alert on the news. Should we still have someone secure the spot for the cherry blossom viewing?
Shinone Misano: Just proceed as planned. There’s no way they’d target us. So far, no terrorist organization has deliberately provoked the Taira Group.
Shinone Misano claimed that because the Taira Group was one of Japan’s top conglomerates, even terrorist organizations feared the repercussions and stayed away. But they could still hit us by accident. Her lack of safety awareness was pretty severe.
Shinone Misano: I know a great spot in the park. So don’t jerk off tonight and save it all up for me ♥
*Sigh…* This horny bitch only ever thinks with her pussy. I’ll have to make her cum five times with her womb in ecstasy tomorrow.
When I asked Mimata Chieri, she said that because other teams from the HR Development Center and regular citizens would be flocking to see the blossoms, I needed to arrive at the park by at least six o’clock to secure a good spot. That meant I had to wake up at five to wash up and get ready.
Thinking about it, I could now fully empathize with why Mimata Chieri had been so happy she didn’t have to secure the spot anymore. Even though I lived right next to the park, I still had to wake up at five. Depending on where she lived, Mimata Chieri would probably need to get up by four-thirty at the latest to make it in time for work after securing the spot.
Time to sleep. It was much earlier than my usual bedtime, but I closed my eyes anyway.
.
.
.
I can’t fall asleep? Maybe I’ll watch a little MeTube before trying again. I turned on MeTube, and it immediately threw a video at me. “How long would a human survive on Jupiter?” Oh, that actually sounds interesting! Before I knew it, I had clicked on the screen.
###
I was screwed. After watching videos on my phone, I had only managed to sleep for three hours. With bleary eyes, I loaded the large picnic mat and a few other items into the car. The area of Yotsukaido Central Park adjacent to the HR Development Center was near the multi-purpose sports field and baseball stadium, so carrying everything on foot would be a pain. It was better to drive, park in the lot, and buy a day pass.
The air was chilly since it was still dawn. I finished loading the car and started driving. It was around 5:40 a.m., so it was still dark. Since the park was so close, I arrived in just three minutes. Quite a few cars were already in the parking lot—apparently I wasn’t the only one securing a spot.
“One-day pass, please~.”
“Three thousand yen.”
The parking attendant, rubbing his sleepy eyes, took my payment. It seemed there were many early customers during this season.
I took the picnic mat and some heavy stones to weigh it down from the trunk and began looking for a good spot. Even though the parking lot was fairly full, the park itself was huge, so there were still plenty of places available.
I spread the mat under a cherry tree in full bloom, at a perfect distance from the restroom—close enough to be convenient but far enough that there was no smell. Hmm…! Even I had to admit it was a flawless location.
As I sat leaning against the tree, I saw some familiar new employees from the HR Development Center walking around with their own mats, searching for good spots. I exchanged glances and nods with them, then yawned. I was still a little sleepy.
“Junior~!”
Someone shook me, and when I opened my eyes, Mimata Chieri’s face filled my vision. Seeing her idol-like beauty first thing in the morning gave me a burst of energy. Wait, when did I fall asleep? I remembered muttering that I was a bit sleepy, but everything after that was a blank.
“Pfft! How can you sleep spread-eagle like that? I came early just in case, and here you are, knocked out.”
It was true. I really had been lying there with my arms and legs spread wide open. Because my legs were apart, I even had a full morning erection standing proudly. It wasn’t a small tent—it was a massive Indian teepee threatening to pierce the sky through my pants. The sun was already up, so everyone walking by must have seen it.
Mimata Chieri glanced at my tent, her face turning red as she quickly looked away.
“Guys get… um… erections while sleeping, right? Like you, Junior.”
“Yes, it’s absolutely not because I was having dirty thoughts. It’s a completely natural physiological reaction, Senior.”
“I get it~! So do something about it!”
“Yes, ma’am. One moment.”
I went behind the tree, slipped my hand into my underwear, and readjusted the position of my cock. Since it was so massive, I couldn’t completely hide the erection, but I arranged it to be as inconspicuous as possible.
“By the way, you came really early too, Senior?”
“I wanted to check if you’d secured a good spot, so I left a bit earlier. You didn’t eat breakfast because you woke up at dawn, right?”
Mimata Chieri pulled some rice balls from her eco-bag and handed them to me. They were quite large. She had made three and given them all to me. After eating lunch together so often, she clearly knew exactly how much I ate. For a normal person, even one would have been filling.
“Thank you, Senior! I’ll enjoy them.”
I unwrapped the plastic and bit into the first one. Mm! It was a standard rice ball with pickled plum inside. The tangy sourness stimulated my appetite. I quickly finished the first one and moved on to the second, which turned out to be filled with mentaiko mayo instead of plum. Oh! This flavor was much more familiar.
Since Jin Yong-tae had been a Korean resident in Japan, his family hadn’t eaten as much Japanese food at home as regular Japanese people. It was roughly forty percent Japanese, forty percent Korean, and twenty percent occasional Western food. So mentaiko felt more familiar to me than pickled plum.
I wondered what the last one would taste like. Expectantly, I took a bite. It was salmon roe. The little eggs popped delightfully in my mouth, and the unique flavor harmonized beautifully with the rice and seaweed. She wasn’t quite at the level of our housekeeper, but she was a really good cook. Seeing that she had prepared two different flavors for lunch, it seemed her love of food had naturally improved her cooking skills.
“It’s delicious, Senior. You’d make a great wife.”
“Eek! Don’t say things that could be misunderstood like that!”
Mimata Chieri laughed and playfully slapped my arm. Why was she reacting like that? I was momentarily stunned and could only laugh awkwardly.