NONOKA couldn’t remember anything in the aftermath of the tragedy. By the time her recollections returned, the funeral had already taken place and she was now under the guardianship of social workers who had taken her to an orphanage.
There, a new existence awaited Nonoka. For the first three days, she remained withdrawn, her gaze fixed on the floor while other children played outside. She curled herself up in a quiet corner, knees drawn up and arms wrapped tight as if trying to hold herself together. The other children, each carrying their own episode of loss and heartache, understood the need for space at this critical juncture and left her to grieve.
Among them was a girl named Miyu Sugiura. Six years Nonoka’s junior, she was an elementary school student. Miyu was a strange specimen and was always watching Nonoka. Discreetly at first from afar, but over time, Miyu began to draw nearer and subtly closed the distance between them. Nonoka, lost in her grief, didn’t notice the young girl’s gradual approach until suddenly Miyu was right there beside her, close enough to touch yet utterly silent still.
One week after her relocation, Nonoka finally cracked. Turning toward the young girl who had become her stalwart companion, she asked hesitantly, “Hey. What’s your name?”
Miyu’s face lit up as she replied, “Miyu!”
“Okay. So, um—”
“Whatcha doing here?” Miyu interrupted.
Nonoka blinked in surprise, then met Miyu’s big, earnest eyes. “Me?” she echoed. A hint of weariness crossed her face as she shook her head slightly. “If I knew that…”
Having lost her parents, Nonoka wondered why she was still there. Each day was a question without an answer, each breath a reminder of what had been lost. Why she continued, why she remained in this world, was a mystery too deep and too painful to ponder alone. So, she redirected the question back to Miyu. “What about you? What are you doing here?”
She didn’t expect a real answer; she just needed to steer the conversation away from herself. But Miyu puffed out her chest, a spark of pride in her eyes as if she had been preparing for this very moment. “I’ve been waiting for you to talk to me!” she declared.
“Excuse me?” Nonoka shot back in disbelief.
“The director always says, ‘Every child here carries a little scar within their heart. We gotta be kind, allow each other space, and wait to talk until the other person is ready!’” Miyu said.
“Oh. I get it.” Now that Nonoka thought about it, everyone including the director of the orphanage had left her alone as much as possible.
“Yep! So, I was waiting for you to talk to me!”
Nonoka almost smiled. It was true that Miyu had ventured near, uncomfortably close even, yet she had respected the silence. That almost smile had been the closest to a positive emotion she had felt in a long, long time Nonoka realized. “You’ve been waiting for me to speak to you, huh?” she echoed quietly.
“What’s that?” Miyu asked.
“Nothing.” Nonoka shook her head. “You waited so patiently for me to talk. You must have something really important to say?”
“I do. The thing is—” Miyu stood up and moved directly in front of Nonoka so that they were at eye level. There was a glint of desperation in her eyes, a fervent plea.
“Miyu?” Nonoka said hesitantly.
“The thing is, I…I…I want you to become my big sister!”
“Huh?” Nonoka blinked, taken aback.
“My real older sister, she died protecting me,” Miyu continued.
Nonoka’s heart lurched. “How?” she whispered.
“There was an accident. With our whole family.”
“I…” Nonoka uttered at a loss for words.
This young, young girl began to pour her heart out, giving Nonoka a serious presentation on what a big sister meant to her. One might not expect such a serious talk from a little girl, but Miyu really meant every word.
Nonoka only learned about the accident later. A truck had rammed into the car carrying Miyu’s family; no one survived except for the little girl, who was found enclosed within her sister’s arms. At the time of their current conversation, Nonoka was still unaware of these harrowing details, yet she already felt a profound empathy for her. She later felt profound empathy for the girl who had suffered through a tragedy of that magnitude firsthand whereas Nonoka had only heard about it subsequently.
Even with that empathy, however, Nonoka struggled to grasp what Miyu was trying to convey. “But I’m not your sister,” Nonoka responded gently. Thinking back, Nonoka couldn’t see herself as the courageous girl who had died to protect her sister. The fact that Miyu still longed for a sister after such a traumatic event was somewhat frightening to Nonoka. She briefly wondered if Miyu was seeking someone else to make a similar sacrifice, but soon realized this was just a morbid misinterpretation.
“I know that,” Miyu said. “You’re nothing like my sister.”
“Yet you still want me to take her place?” Nonoka asked.
“I’m not asking that! I’m just asking you to be my big sister because I think we can get along!”
Nonoka was still confused about what Miyu truly wanted. “Get along?”
“Get along!” Miyu grinned from ear to ear, stretching her arms out wide. “I’ve just been so alone, you know? Well, not really alone, ’cause I still have my friends, but not anyone like a sister.”
“I’m sorry, I still don’t get it. Why do you need a sister?”
“Because then I won’t be all alone!”
“I understand, but—”
“And you won’t be all alone either!”
A lump formed in Nonoka’s throat at Miyu’s simple but energetic notion. “Neither will…I?”
“Yeah! If you’re here, then I won’t feel alone. And if I’m here, you won’t feel alone either!” Miyu looked at Nonoka expectantly. “You won’t, right?”
“I-I’m not sure.”
For a reason she couldn’t explain, Nonoka’s thoughts drifted to her deceased parents. She wondered, was this guilt for trying to find happiness without them? Miyu, however, was poised to dispel this guilt in one, single utterance:
“You don’t have to be sure! Just be my sister! If you do, then I’m sure my real sister will finally be at peace.”
“Your sister will be…at peace,” Nonoka echoed softly, more to herself than to Miyu.
“That’s right! She always wanted me to live a happy life. If I’m not happy, she won’t be able to rest.”
Nonoka could hardly muster up a response. Miyu definitely didn’t come up with that idea herself; someone must have told her that. But did the origin of the idea really matter? Nonoka struggled to dismiss it—not when she so desperately wanted to believe her parents would feel the same way.
“Is that really how it works?” she muttered to herself. As the self-posed question lingered, clarity dawned upon her. She looked up at Miyu’s round, expectant eyes and said, “Miyu, I…I would love to be your big sister.”
“It’s settled then!” she exclaimed, her face brightening with joy.