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Kayoko could distinctly remember the last peaceful summer she had with her family. One where no one, not even mama or papa, had to worry about the house being enflamed or when the next meal would arrive.
It was at a beach (similar to the one she saw outside the window before she arrived at the countryside with Auntie). There was a large inn rented by two families.
She could still remember the way the wind tickled her face, the water grasping at her feet, and the sandcastles destroyed by her rowdy brothers.
The other family who was there was a woman, a little girl, and a boy who were the same age as Kayoko and her brothers. The other children's mother had explained her husband was away for work.
The little girl was shy, but introduced herself to Kayoko as Setsuko. Setsuko's older brother was Seita; he was only a few years older than Kayoko's brothers, but they treated him like a wise, ultimate big brother figure.
Whether it was the girls making sandcastles and collecting seashells, the boys treating the sea like an enemy, or the parents preparing lunch and drinking tea, nobody had qualms in their minds.
There were a couple of moments where Setsuko had to stay behind with her mother because of some scratches from wood or scrapes that left her in tears. Kayoko was surprised she managed to spend an entire day without crying, especially being cramped up with her brothers.
Seita treated Kayoko the same way he treated Setsuko. He was almost indistinguishable from her brothers because of the numerous times he helped her and Setsuko collect seashells or give her free piggy-back rides—something her brothers would make her compromise on. Seita was always reminded of Setsuko whenever she was there.
A bittersweet feeling overcame Kayoko as their family parted ways.
"Until next summer we'll see each other again!"
That summer never came.
Kayoko and her aunt left the countryside. They had to take one train ride to Kobe and then catch another one that would take them to Tokyo, her home.
Kayoko was terrified. The home that wasn't a home because of the missing family members. Why did Auntie want her to see the damage?
Her older brother, Kisaburo, returned home, unscathed from the fire but not from their loss. He pretended not to know her anytime he went out and diligently performed shoe-shining on any customer who offered at least a couple of yen. At worst, he would yell at her to leave.
He's been distant ever since he returned.
Several people walked through the train station, but it didn't feel lively at all. Everybody ignored the children and teens who were collapsing from disease or hunger.
Kayoko looked away. Auntie told her to forget all the bad things.
A boy sat alone with no happy family in sight. The back was coiled and in an unnatural position. Out of all the kids, this one stood out the most to Kayoko.
She went over, but Auntie called out.
"Don't stop, keep walking."
Kayoko glanced back over at her aunt, who continued walking without checking to see if she was following after her. Kayoko took a few steps towards the boy, taking a deep breath. When she was a bit more confident, she dashed over and scared away the flies that were picking on his body.
"Hello."
He doesn't move, but he's clearly still breathing. Then, he stumbled over and fell onto his side.
"Seita?"
"Setsuko..."
Kayoko couldn't contain her excitement despite her worry about his sickly state.
"I'm Kayoko from the summer!" she began, but he didn't respond. "Remember? The beach? The seashells?"
She wanted him to remember her. Someone from the past who would remember her even in these times. Her voice became more frantic as she listed off the several moments they shared in that regrettably short summer.
Her three brothers are gone; the one still alive doesn't acknowledge her. Tears began to form in her eyes at the thought.
He doesn't respond, but his quivers of "Setsuko" make her hopeful again. The once-healthy, lively boy she remembered from all those years ago had vanished. If it wasn't for his face, she would've never guessed it was the same person.
Then, finally.
"Kayoko..."
She probably looked like a maniac to anyone who passed by, clutching the hand of someone who was on the verge of dying but not disturbed in the slightest.
She doesn't ask the obvious questions because she can infer them. She knew she had to go soon, and the thought of leaving someone else behind was painfully unbearable.
Yet another person who would be left behind.
"Stay awake, okay?" she asked as his weak fingers squeezed lightly as a sign of remembrance.
Seita's eyes were blurry, and everything was distorting around him. He wanted to die, to be with Setsuko again. He didn't want to leave Setsuko alone.
But Kayoko looked like Setsuko, like another chance given to Setsuko. If he weren't paralyzed from hunger, he would reach out to Kayoko and not make the same mistakes again. His words can barely form past his cracked lips.
His eyes are ready to light out, but this kid kept talking...
"Stay here," Kayoko said hurriedly as if he would leave, too. "Stay here and don't move."
Her eyes narrowed in on the crowded area for any sign of Auntie.
"I'm going to ask Auntie to take you back with us," She stood up and ran back to her aunt. Seita's eyes continued watching her until her figure disappeared from his eyesight.