Get up...please...

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- "Get up...No matter what you've been through. You haven't earned the right to throw your life away...not now...GET UP! Stand up...STAND UP!! I need you to stand up!...or else...you are not gonna make it through... There's so much more to do and I need you with me... get up...please...just get up...please, brother...for me...get up...I need you..."


In a small room, a little girl cried with her lower lip broken. The blood had already dried on her chin. With each word spoken, the tender wound reopened, a silent testament to her agony. Tears cascaded down her cheeks, yet she suppressed any sobs, fearful that her cries might attract further violence.

In the darkness of the room was also a little boy who was curled up on the floor in a corner, staring blankly at a wall where light from outside danced. His expression was vacant, detached from the world around him. Beside him knelt the girl, her small fists clenched tightly upon her bruised knees. A few stray tears mingled with the blood from her own wounds, causing a sharp stinging sensation.

The room itself seemed to exhale a heavy air of despair, its walls bearing witness to the silent suffering of its occupants. Yet amidst the darkness, a fragile thread of resilience intertwined with the pain, binding the girl and boy together in a shared struggle for survival.

In the suffocating grip of that fateful night, the echoes of their parents' bitter feud reverberated once more. Their mother, weary from enduring the ceaseless strife with her husband, dragged her twin children into the heart of the turmoil. Earlier that day, she had attempted to enlist them as allies in the never-ending battle between herself and her spouse.

- "Mommy, why don't you divorce him?" ventured the little girl, her innocence shining through her words like a beacon of hope amidst the chaos.

To her young and unblemished mind, the solution appeared clear-cut: two adults no longer in love should part ways and seek happiness independently. She hadn't pondered the ramifications of such a decision on herself and her twin brother, nor had she the chance to, as her mother's reaction came swift and brutal, a slap across the face unleashing a torrent of pent-up fury. The girl gasped, stunned by the sudden assault, her trembling hand instinctively rising to cradle her injured lip. Meanwhile, her brother stood frozen, his disbelief morphing into a haunting realization as he bore witness to the scene unfolding before him. He briefly entertained the notion that it was all a nightmare, a figment of his imagination, but his sister's tearful sobs and the crimson stain on her lip swiftly shattered that illusion.

As the weight of the moment pressed down upon him, he flinched when his mother's hand, simultaneously gentle and unyielding, grasped his face, compelling him to meet her gaze. In a voice tinged with both desperation and command, she posed her question:

- "You are on my side, aren't you, Kazutora? You have to choose. Just one. Me or your father."

The boy's gaze shifted to his sister, a flicker of hope igniting within him as he silently pleaded for her to provide solace in the face of their mother's demanding inquiry. After all, it was Kaiya who had dared to broach the subject of their parents' divorce earlier, displaying a maturity and foresight beyond her years. Surely, she had pondered the consequences and formulated a plan. Kaiya was no ordinary girl; her sharp intellect and keen intuition often led them through tumultuous times. Who else but Kaiya could navigate the complexities of their family's turmoil with such clarity?

But Kaiya remained silent, weighed down by the weight of her own neglectfulness. What would become of her and her twin brother in the event of a divorce? Would they remain together, or would they be forced to choose? These thoughts churned tumultuously within her mind, a relentless storm of uncertainty and fear. Perhaps her mother had already considered such implications, rendering Kaiya's outspokenness unnecessary and, in hindsight, regrettable. She chastised herself for her impudence, for daring to presume she knew what was best for her mother and their fractured family.

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