Oniisan… Ohitori Desu Ka? Direct

Then she was gone, swallowed by the deepening blue, and I was left with a half-eaten rice cracker, a broken sandal strap left behind on the stone, and the sound of my own heart—still beating, still here, still possible.

The voice was small, careful—like someone testing the surface of a deep river with their toes. I turned. oniisan… ohitori desu ka?

She tested it, lips shaping the syllables. “Kaito-oniisan.” Then she was gone, swallowed by the deepening

“And which one were you asking?”

“Me too,” she said. Then, after a pause: “Can I sit?” Then she was gone

“I’m not a kid,” she said, and for the first time, her voice cracked, just slightly. “I’m a person who’s been alone long enough to know what matters.”