It’s the third anniversary of my brother’s death. My brother, who passed away three years ago, had a wife named Hibiki. Seven years ago in the summer, my brother brought Hibiki over for the first time. It was a hot and humid day, so the three of us cut up the watermelon he had bought, boiled some corn and ate it together. At the end of the year he died, she left home. Aside from seeing her every year on the anniversary of his death, I would occasionally get worried and go to her apartment to check on her.
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