Hello, Sister-in-Law

After my sister died, only my sister-in-law and I were left at home.

She could have left me behind and gone her own way, but instead she chose to raise me on her own.

And she wasn't much older than me.

My heart stirred for the first time at eighteen. After drinking, I babbled nonsense, and in that muddled, hazy state, we kissed.

After the loud slap, the next time we met was three years later.

She had injured her leg in a fall.

So I had no choice but to take on the responsibility of looking after her.

My sister-in-law looked just as I remembered: gentle and quiet, with a smile always playing at her lips.

She had never given birth to a child, but I often imagined I was hers. When I babbled nonsense, my sister-in-law would gently hold my head and press it against her soft, slightly rounded belly.

There is something I really want to know. Sister-in-law, when you look into my eyes, are you seeing my sister?

Theme: Hold on tight, and don't live with regrets.