She was smiling, but there was no one there. Only a grave, which stood out among the others in sharp relief.
We borrowed a bucket, dipper, cleaning and gardening tools from the cemetery office and took care of the grave maintenance. Ryoko knew what she was doing and readily gave me instructions. After the final sprinkle of water, we offered the flowers and incense she had bought at the shop nearby.
Ryoko placed her hands together and closed her eyes in prayer, so I did the same. In the dark behind my eyelids, the sounds of wind and insects were louder.
“I was my grandma’s pet,” Ryoko said softly. Yuki was her grandmother’s name. “My mum had her hands full as a single mother, so Yuki looked after me. If I’d had a bad day, she’d make my favourite foods and say, ‘Ryo, have some yummy food and you’ll forget all about it.’ It’s thanks to her that I’m alive and well today.”
After she’d gotten that far, Ryoko took a moment to apologise, saying that it wasn’t something she would usually share with someone she’d only just met, and then went on.
“Several years ago, Yuki got sick and went to live with my aunt in Tokyo. I didn’t visit her—I used my busy schedule as an excuse. I thought I’d visit at some stage, but then I got the bad news, and I wasn’t able to make it there in time. So now, whenever I want to see her, I rush out straight away. Today was like that. But you know, it’s funny how I go to see her because I miss her, but then I end up missing her even more.”
I had expected an offbeat romantic reunion, but this was disappointingly straightforward. What had I been hoping for, from her, in the first place? I thought she’d cheer me up, but I felt myself sink under a crushing weight, in a chaotic tangle of emotions.
“There’s someone I want to meet, too,” I blurted. As I told Ryoko all about it, I began to process my thoughts.
It started with a call from my mum last week.
“Hey, remember Sayaka?” my mum said. “She used to look after you all the time when you were at primary school. I only just found out, but…” She paused. “The year before last, she was involved in an accident, and she lost her life.”
When I first heard that, it left me completely cold. I felt I should be upset, but Saya was hidden in my distant past and I couldn’t get my head around it.
“Are you there?” My mum’s voice on the other end of the line. “Today I visited her family to offer up incense for her. Her mum remembers you and she was amazed when I showed her a photo. She said you’d grown up and she really wished she could show Sayaka. You should go visit sometime to offer incense, too.”
Saya’s family lived in my neighbourhood when I was in primary school, and just like my mum said, she was a caring girl who used to look after me. Both my parents worked full-time—when I lost my key and didn’t know what to do, she was concerned and took me to her house. She was so kind and I loved her; whenever I bumped into her at school, I would tell my friends she was my big sister. That was when I was little.
Later on, I started to be more offhand about Saya. I got kind of embarrassed. Our bond faded, and my family moved just before I started junior high, so I never even passed her on the street anymore. When I heard the sad news, I tried to remember the last time I’d seen her, but I couldn’t even figure out when that had been.
I visited Saya’s family to offer incense for her and they showed me her photo album. I tried to etch her image in my mind’s eye but it kept fading away, so her mum let me take a picture. After that I took the persimmons her mum had given me, walked to the station and sat down on the train, ignoring the gaping hole in my heart. The only thing that felt real was the weight of the fruit in the paper bag.
“I know I used to love her, but it’s all so hazy it feels like I’m glimpsing someone else’s memories. It’s incredibly frustrating and sad.”
Ryoko was listening to me without saying anything.
