The Fragments of Yesterday: beyond time and distance

Under the quiet embrace of the night, with the soft glow of the moon casting a gentle light into the room, Nana-san looked up from her knitting, her gaze drawn to Kenji. She had been noticing his distant expression for a while now—the subtle furrow of his brow and the faint nostalgia in his eyes. It wasn't like him to seem so preoccupied.

With a gentle sigh, she reached out to him, her fingers lightly brushing his arm as she spoke in a soft, comforting tone. "Kenji, please... stop thinking about Sachiko," she said, her voice full of understanding.

Kenji's eyes widened slightly, surprised by her perceptiveness. He hadn't realized that his thoughts had been so evident. His sister, Sachiko, had always been someone he cherished—his partner in childhood mischief, the one who shared his laughter and memories. He had been reminiscing about those moments, letting the warmth of the past linger in his heart.

For a moment, Kenji simply stared at Nana-san, overwhelmed by her kindness. His heart softened as her words sank in. Slowly, a smile began to tug at the corners of his lips, the tension in his shoulders easing. He reached out and took her hand, pulling her close.

The two of them spent the night wrapped in each other's warmth, their smiles gradually growing more genuine. In the comfort of their shared silence, with no need for words, they found a peaceful harmony. Kenji's mind, once lost in thoughts of his sister, now found solace in the presence of his wife. As they held each other, they knew that together, they could navigate any path, cherishing the past while embracing the present.

Kenji let out a quiet sigh, his gaze drifting toward the moonlit window. His fingers absentmindedly traced the rim of his cup as the weight of old memories settled in.

"You know, Nana… after Sachiko's funeral, we didn't have much of a choice," he murmured. "Axel was still underage, and I… I was barely an adult myself. I didn't have a stable income, no way to support him on my own. That's why we had to leave him at the orphanage."

Nana-san nodded, her expression soft with understanding. "I remember, Kenji. It wasn't an easy decision."

Kenji's voice grew quieter. "And then we returned to Japan, and things started changing. We decided to marry, to start a life together… but Axel… he couldn't even attend our wedding."

A shadow of regret flickered in his eyes, and Nana gently squeezed his hand. "You did what you had to do at the time," she reassured him. "And Axel… he understands that."

Just as those words settled between them, a familiar voice unexpectedly cut through the quiet.

"So… what was my mother like in her youth, Kenji? Nanaka-san?"

Both Kenji and Nana turned toward the doorway, their eyes widening in surprise as Axel stepped in from the guest room where he had been staying. His expression was unreadable, but his voice carried a quiet curiosity.

"Because you have been with her for so long," Axel continued, his gaze steady, "even before me… even before I was born."

A moment of silence hung in the air, heavy with unspoken emotions. Kenji and Nana exchanged a glance, knowing that this conversation—long overdue—was finally about to happen.

Kenji leaned back slightly, his gaze softening as he let the memories of his sister wash over him.

"Sachiko… she was always full of life," he said, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "Joyful, kind, and always looking out for others. No matter how difficult things got, she had this way of making everything feel lighter, like nothing was too big to handle. She brought so much happiness into my life—not just as my sister, but as my best friend."

Axel listened in silence, his expression unreadable, though his eyes held a quiet depth.

"When she married Kaito," Kenji continued, "she moved to Italy with him and you, Axel. I stayed with you all for a while, but no matter how much she tried to adjust, she always missed Japan. She used to talk about it all the time, reminiscing about our childhood, the seasons, the festivals… it was her home, and she never stopped longing for it."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "She wanted to come back so badly, but Kaito's work kept her there. So I made a decision—I returned to Japan, thinking that if I could build something stable here, she'd finally have a reason to come back. I wanted her to have that choice." His voice grew quieter. "But before that could happen… she was gone."

Kenji clenched his fists for a moment before exhaling, trying to push away the weight of regret. "I used to hear her talking to you sometimes, Axel," he added, looking at his younger brother. "About Japan, about her memories… she spent more than half her life here. It was always in her heart."

Axel lowered his gaze slightly, as if lost in thought.

Then, Nana-san spoke, her voice gentle yet filled with warmth. "Sachiko-san was like that with everyone," she said, smiling faintly. "She was always so supportive—towards you, Kenji, and towards me as well. When we first met, I thought she would be protective of you, maybe hesitant about me… but instead, she welcomed me like family from the start. Encouraging us, standing by us, always believing in us."

Her expression softened further. "In many ways, she was like a mother to us. She had this way of making people feel safe, like they belonged. Even now, I still feel her presence in the things she left behind."

A comfortable silence settled in the room as the weight of their shared memories lingered. Axel, who had been quiet all this time, finally lifted his head, his voice steady yet carrying an emotion neither Kenji nor Nana could quite place.

"…I see."

Kenji and Nana exchanged a glance, sensing that Axel was processing something deeper than he let on. Though the past could never be changed, the memories they shared were still alive—woven into their present, guiding them forward.