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Chapter 2

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Sasagawa Ryōhei was born Saturday, August 26th, at Namimori Hospital, at 7 lb and 8 oz.

I was five years old when the memories came. I didn't understand any of it, especially since they came in bouts of headaches and nausea. Not to mention that my previous memories mingled with my present ones, and I was left to increase my boxing training just to cover up the bouts of dizziness and pounding temples.

"Onēchan?" I jumped, taking a moment to fix my facial expression before turning to honey colored eyes. My eyes shook to straighten the image of Sasagawa Kyōko, not Monday Hightower.

Monday...

"What is it, Kyōko?" I asked, heart racing in fright. Had she seen me stager? Wince? Miss my punch?

Had she seen me tremble against the sandbag and swallow my bile?

She stared at me for a moment, my heart pounding at her silence, then she came up to me and took my gloved hand in both of hers. "Are you still having those headaches?"

My hair stood on end.

Sasagawa Kyōko could be perceptive when she wanted to be. I hated that she wasn't a little more oblivious when it concerned me.

"No." I answered, maybe too quickly. I looked away from those penetrating eyes and pulled my glove away. I retook my stance and hoped she got the message to leave me alone. I didn't want her to see her older sister breaking down mentally.

Thankfully, she did. Turning and making her way to the door—

Wait. My heart squeezed.

"Kyōko?" I nearly gasped in fear, shivers running up my spine, limbs shaking, and adrenaline against my throat.

She stopped. "Yes, Onēchan?"

Don't go. Stay with me. Don't leave me alone. Make it stop. It hurts. Is this how Monday felt? NO! Nothing could compare to Monday's pain! You're not Monday, you're Kyōko! Don't look at me!

Stop it!

"Will you...stay with me? Until Otōsan comes back?" In all seriousness, a man should not leave a five year old alone in a boxing room, even if the only person inside is his daughter, but I was glad. It allowed me to show my weakness.

Kyōko blinked before smiling, lighting up the entire ring and making my stomach churn in guilt for comparing her with Monday.

Because she wasn't.

And she won't be.

But she was still my little sister.

"Okay!" She chirped, skipping to the bench and swinging her legs. "Okāsan says she'll teach me how to bake a…"

And she spoke, her voice soothing the sharp drills into my skull, calming the heart in my chest, quieting the storm against my forehead.

And all I could think was—

I do not deserve Sasagawa Kyōko.


Thanks to:


chibi-no-baka, Emma (Here's the chapter. Does your heart still ache? ;)


Please review!

—prince