Haiku. Taiko. Persimmons.
On the surface, these may have a typically Japanese association, but writer Yu Shibuya has managed to seamlessly and organically weave them into a beautifully universal story about learning to let go. In life, there are rhythms and cycles; in our film, they are poetically reflected in the beat of a taiko drum and the syllables of a haiku. A ripe persimmon that has been picked to dry is on its natural course to death. For some, this may seem like a melancholy thought, but a dried persimmon serves a greater purpose when its sweetness is savored. Death is a natural part of life and is also part of a larger picture.
Our protagonist is expecting a persimmon to dry and yet he cannot accept that it is time for a man on his deathbed to die. As the persimmon mysteriously, or supernaturally, holds out from drying, so Tamotsu tries his hardest to keep the man alive. Only when Tamotsu has let go can the persimmon take its natural course.