The wind brushed across my face as I stared into the setting sun.
"4 years ago… Everything ended," I quietly muttered.
I didn't look at Kentaro. I couldn't. My eyes stayed fixed on the horizon because if I turned to face him, I knew I was going to break.
It started like any other Monday. I was fifteen. Akia was thirteen. My little sister. My best friend. We shared everything, food, games, even secrets we swore we'd take to the grave.
That day, I arrived home from school earlier than usual. As always, I expected Akia to be there before me, likely attempting to cook dinner and making a mess of the kitchen while humming off-key. Those silly yet endearing quirks of hers made life challenging at times, but they also brought so much joy.
But the house was empty.
There was no laughter, no familiar scent of pasta or omelette rice wafting through the air, only an unsettling silence.
