Still don't own Zexal, I want to, but it willnever be so, (sigh)


I'm laying on my bed when I hear a loud crash. I hear some loud thumping climbing up the stairs. I sigh, my brothers were at it again. They probably broke something, according to the crash. I get up and open the door, and my two brothers dash in.

"What is it now?" I ask, an annoyed tone seeping into my voice. "Well, Michael broke something!" Thomas yells. "No! It was Thomas!" Michael yells at Thomas, and tackles him. Thomas gets knocked down, and wrestles Michael, rolling around on the floor.

"Break it up!" I yell, and try to break up the fight. I pull my brothers apart, but they were still trying to claw at one another. "What broke?!" I ask, anger now clearly in my voice, which clearly scared my brothers, they are not used to seeing me angry.

"Well, we broke something. It was a painting." Thomas replies, shakily. "Where is it?" I sigh, letting the anger out of my tone, I knew it scared my brothers. "It's near the kitchen." Michael says, and gets up.

I follow my brothers out the door, and down to the kitchen. I approach the painting, and pick it up. But to my dismay... My eyes widen. "Th-This is what you broke?" I ask shakily.

"Umm, yes?" Michael replies, quietly. "No." I say, softly, no louder than a whisper. "What is it?" Michael whines, on the verge of tears, to see me so upset. "This was the last thing that mother gave father before..." I say, with no need to finish the sentence.

"It was?" Thomas cries. "We're sorry!" Thomas wraps his arms around my waist. "What will father say?!" Cries Michael, tears streaming down this face, and also hugs me tightly. "It's ok. It's ok." I stroke their hair, trying to comfort them.

I flip the painting over all the way, so that I may see the picture painted there. It was the place our father had proposed to mother. He had done it under the stars, on the longest day of summer.

He had done it near a small park, under a blanket of stars. My mother was a good painter, and painted the exact spot he had proposed. She had presented it to him after she had finished. It was the last thing she had given to him before she died.

Michael was born not long before she had given it to him. Father had treasured it dearly. He will be so mad.

"It was where father proposed to mother. She had painted it, and gave it to father a little before Michael was born, she had died a few months afterward." I say, sadly. "It was from mother? I feel so bad!" Michael sobs, and digs his head into my stomach, hugging me even tighter. "It's ok. We just have to tell him when he gets home." I say.

Hopefully, father will understand, and hug my brothers tighter.


Thomas: Aww, mushy, Chris!

Snowy: Well yeah. It only made sense.

Thomas: Yeah. I guess.

Snowy: Please review if you like it!