Calculated Risks

~1~

"No! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't know! Please! Please!"
"You are such a useless peace of crap! How could you do this to us? How could you do this to my baby? I hate you! Get out of my sight!"
"No, Mama! I'm sorry! I didn't do anything! Please don't hate me! Please!"
"Screw off! Stay away from my son! You are not - do you hear me? - NOT my daughter! You're a monster. A damn monster!"
"Mama, pleasee! I didn't do-"
"Do not call me your mom! And do not make me repeat myself again, you worthless piece of shit!"

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"Miss Y/n! Miss Y/n!"
"Hm?"
The voice snapped me out of the nightmare clawing at the edges of my mind. My therapist, Mrs. Saito, was staring at me, her pen hovering above her notebook.

Did I ever think I'd end up here? Sitting in a cold chair, forced to confront the broken pieces of my life? No. But there I was.

Her office felt stifling, though it wasn't unpleasent. The walls were made of rich, dark wood, and the faint scent of vanilla lingered in the air. It might have been cozy if my heart wasn't so heavy.

"Tell me about it", Mrs. Saito encouraged softly, her voice steady, calm.
I hesitated, my hands trembling in my lap.
"It's just that... I can't stop seeing it. I can't stop seeing him lying there, covered in blood. I still hear my parents' voices yelling at me. I can still feel their hands shaking me, hitting me. I can still feel the slap across my face."
My voice wavered. Tears burned at the corners of my eyes, but I fought to keep them from falling.

Mrs. Saito nodded, her gaze sympathetic as her pen moved across the page. She waited, not rushing me, just letting me sit with the words that had finally spilled out.
"Your brother isn't dead," she said gently, tilting her head. "You've told me that much. You said it started with a ... crack?"
I nodded, the memory slicing through me like a knife.

It started months ago. My brother had been feeling off - weak, feverish, a little distant. At first, we thought it was just a bad cold or maybe stress. But then, a faint crack appeared on his stomach. It was small at first, like a thin scar. We didn't think much of it until it started bleeding.

My parents rushed him to the hospital, panicked, their faces pale with fear. The doctors didn't know what it was. They'd never seen anything like it.

The crack didn't stop at his stomach. It spread, creeping across his body, carving jagged lines through his skin like the fractured porcelain of an old doll. It wasn't just cosmetic - it was killing him.

I didn't know how bad it was until I visited him for the first time. His skin was pale, his eyes dull. The cracks looked worse than I could have imagined. They bled, deep red against the sickly white of his skin.
Every visit was worse. He was coughing up blood, screaming in pain, his voice hoarse. Even the stronges painkillers couldn't help him anymore.

And then... it reached his vital organs. I still hear his voice in my nightmares.
"Sis," he had whispered, his voice so soft I had to lean close. "It hurts so much.. I want it to end.. Please"
I held his hand, my heart breaking, and whispered, "I'm here. I'm right here."
But it wasn't enough. Nothing was enough.

My parents blamed me for everything that was happening.
"You must have done something! You're the reason this is happening!" my mother yelled at me after one particularly bad visit.
"What? No! I didn't do anything!" I cried, desperate for her to see the truth.
"You touched him, didn't you? You always had to get involved where you didn't belong!"
Her words hit harder than any slap could. She didn't stop raising her voice at me. Her hands lashed out, hitting me, pushing me, her grief morphing into something monstrous.

I left that night with bruises on my skin and deeper wounds in my heart.

"Y/n," Mrs. Saito said gently, pulling me from my thoughts. "Our time is up for today. Will I see you next week?"
I nodded, bowing slightly as I stood. My next destination was the hospital.

The streets of Tokyo were busy as ever, though the city felt muted, distant. My thoughts were loud, drowning out the world around me.
As I neared the hospital, something caught my attention - bright flashes in the sky.
'Fireworks?' I paused, confused, but the urgency in my chest pushed me forward.

When I arrived at my brother's room, I knocked softly befor stepping inside. The sight that greeted me was a nightmare. Blood soaked the sheets, pooling beneath his body.
"No... no, no, no!" I screamed, rushing to his side.
"Stay with me! Look at me! Please! Please.." I begged, gripping his hand, tears straming down my face.
Doctors and nurses burst into the room, but it was too late. The heart monitor flatlined.
"No! No! NO!" I screamed, my voice breaking.
"Don't leave me alone here! Please... please.."

The head doctor looked down.
"I'm so sorry for your loss Miss Y/n," the doctor said softly, trying to comfort me.
"We'll keep him here for 24 hours to determine the cause of death. You can stay with him until then. Your parents will be informed as well," a nurse added gently.
I nodded, my hands trembling as they left me alone with his lifeless body.