They caught Kamakura just as cherry blossom season was ending. No crowds, no spectacle, just petals on the ground and a few stubborn branches refusing to give in. Veronica and Bernard cycled through quiet side streets, matcha in hand, unbothered by the idea of being anywhere else. Nothing was trying to impress them. And that was the point. Kamakura doesn’t chase timelessness. It simply exists long enough for you to notice it.