The sun cast a warm glow over the small suburban home where Triaji and Tiaki lived with their mother, Freina. The house, once filled with laughter and joy, had become a place of sorrow and tension after the death of their father, Francis.

Francis had been a jolly man, always quick with a joke or a smile. Despite occasionally participating in villainous missions for money, he was loved by his family. Freina, too, had been a great mom, full of warmth and affection. But everything changed the day Francis was killed by a hero.

Freina, devastated by the loss of her husband, struggled to cope. She poured all her remaining love and attention into her youngest daughter, Triaji, who was a bright and cheerful child. Freina would braid Triaji’s hair, read her bedtime stories, and shower her with hugs and kisses. Triaji’s laughter filled the house, providing a stark contrast to the somber atmosphere that had settled in since Francis’ death.

Tiaki, on the other hand, was often left to fend for herself. At ten years old, she was expected to be independent and responsible. Freina rarely acknowledged her accomplishments or needs. While she prepared meals for Triaji, she would often forget that Tiaki hadn’t eaten. On school nights, Freina would tuck Triaji into bed with a kiss while Tiaki lay awake, staring at the ceiling, longing for a fraction of the affection her younger sister received.

The source of Freina’s neglect towards Tiaki was rooted in the tragic events surrounding Francis’ death. On the fateful day, Tiaki had been present and had a chance to save her father but was too paralyzed with fear to act. Freina, consumed by grief and anger, couldn’t help but blame Tiaki, albeit subconsciously. This blame manifested in her neglect, creating an invisible barrier between mother and daughter.

Tiaki’s attempts to gain her mother’s attention were usually met with indifference or irritation. When she brought home a drawing from school, Freina barely glanced at it before dismissing it as childish scribbling. When Tiaki tried to help around the house, her efforts were often criticized rather than appreciated. Each rebuff chipped away at Tiaki’s self-esteem, fostering feelings of resentment and inadequacy.

Freina’s favoritism was painfully clear to Tiaki, but it was never discussed. The unspoken truth hung in the air, creating a growing tension within the family. Tiaki’s frustration grew with each passing day, manifesting in silent tears and clenched fists. She longed for the warmth and love that she remembered from the days when Francis was alive, but it seemed those days were gone forever.

Triaji, despite being young, sensed the imbalance in the family. She adored her older sister and often tried to include her in games and activities, but Tiaki’s heart was too heavy to join in. Triaji couldn’t understand why her sister seemed so sad, and her innocent attempts to bridge the gap often fell short.

Freina, too, was aware of the growing distance but felt helpless to mend it. The pain of losing Francis and the guilt she carried for her own feelings towards Tiaki kept her trapped in a cycle of neglect and sorrow. She clung to Triaji as a lifeline, the only source of joy left in her shattered world.

As the days turned into weeks, the family continued to drift further apart. The once cozy home now felt like a battleground of unspoken emotions and unresolved grief. Each member of the family struggled in their own way, caught in the shadow of a past they couldn’t escape.

In the quiet moments of the night, when the house was still, Freina would sometimes sit by the window, looking out into the darkness. She wondered how things had gone so wrong and if there was any way to heal the wounds that had torn her family apart. But as the dawn broke each morning, she found herself falling back into the same patterns, unable to break free.

And so, the days continued, with Triaji’s laughter filling the house while Tiaki’s silent sorrow grew. The bonds that once held the family together seemed to fray more with each passing day, setting the stage for the changes that were yet to come.

Life continued in the small suburban home, where the silent tension between Freina and Tiaki grew heavier with each passing day. Freina clung to Triaji for comfort, while Tiaki felt more isolated and resentful. It seemed nothing could bridge the growing gap within the family.

One evening, Freina gathered Triaji and Tiaki in the living room, a rare occurrence that piqued their curiosity. Her demeanor was unusually serious, yet there was a hint of hope in her eyes.

“Girls,” Freina began, her voice wavering slightly, “I have a surprise for you.”

Tiaki’s heart fluttered with a rare sense of hope. Maybe this would be the moment when her mother would finally see her, acknowledge her. Triaji, sitting beside her, looked up with wide, expectant eyes.

The door creaked open, and Freina walked in, holding the hand of a girl neither Triaji nor Tiaki had seen before. The girl was older, about fourteen, with black hair and black eyes. She had a gentle, kind face that immediately radiated warmth and kindness.

“This is Tomie,” Freina said with a soft smile. “She’s going to be your new sister.”

Tomie stepped forward, her eyes shining with a mixture of shyness and excitement. “Hello,” she said softly, giving a small wave.

Triaji, always eager to make new friends, jumped up and ran to Tomie, hugging her around the waist. “Hi, Tomie! I’m Triaji!” she exclaimed, her face lighting up with joy.

Tomie smiled down at Triaji and returned the hug, her kind eyes twinkling. “It’s so nice to meet you, Triaji,” she said warmly.

Tiaki, however, felt a pang of bitterness. Instead of the reconciliation she had hoped for, her mother was bringing in someone new, someone to further divert her attention. She stayed in her seat, watching the scene unfold with a heavy heart.

Over the next few days, Tomie settled into the household. She quickly bonded with Triaji, playing games with her and helping with her schoolwork. Triaji adored her new sister, and the two of them could often be found giggling together in the living room or playing outside in the yard.

Freina was visibly relieved by Tomie’s presence. Tomie’s obedient and caring nature brought a sense of peace to the household that had been missing since Francis’ death. Freina often praised Tomie for her helpfulness and kind heart, further deepening the bond between them.

She appreciated Freina’s kindness and was eager to show her gratitude by helping out around the house and caring for Triaji. She worked hard to fit in, always willing to lend a hand and offer a comforting word.

But for Tiaki, Tomie’s presence only deepened the chasm between her and her mother. While Freina and Tomie would chat and laugh in the kitchen, Triaji played nearby, their cheerful voices a constant reminder of what Tiaki was missing. The more she saw Freina and Tomie together, the more she felt replaced and unwanted.

Tiaki tried to join in a few times, hoping to connect with Tomie and perhaps bridge the gap with her mother. But her attempts were often awkward and stilted, met with polite smiles from Tomie and lukewarm acknowledgment from Freina. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was an outsider in her own home.

One afternoon, Tiaki watched from the doorway as Tomie braided Triaji’s hair, their heads close together as they whispered and giggled. Freina sat nearby, smiling at the scene. Tiaki’s heart ached with jealousy and sadness. She turned away, unable to bear the sight.

Tomie, sensing Tiaki’s distance, tried to reach out. She would invite Tiaki to join them in their games or offer to help with her homework, but Tiaki’s pride and resentment often made her decline. Tomie didn’t push, respecting Tiaki’s space, but she couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt for inadvertently causing such pain.

As the weeks went by, the dynamic in the household settled into a new routine. Tomie’s presence brought a semblance of normalcy, but the underlying tension remained. Freina continued to neglect Tiaki, too caught up in her grief and guilt to see the damage she was causing.

Triaji, ever the optimist, believed things would get better. She loved both her sisters and hoped they could all be happy together. She often tried to include Tiaki in their activities, but her innocent efforts were rarely successful.

Freina, on the other hand, felt a mix of relief and guilt. She was grateful for Tomie’s help and the joy she brought to Triaji, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was failing Tiaki. Late at night, she would lie awake, haunted by memories of Francis and the unspoken blame she placed on Tiaki.

The household continued on, with laughter and sorrow intertwined. Tomie’s kindness and Triaji’s innocence provided moments of light, but the shadow of neglect and unresolved grief loomed ever present. The stage was set for the changes that were yet to come, and each family member braced themselves for the unknown.

Days turned into weeks, and the new routine settled into the small suburban home. While Tomie’s presence brought a sense of normalcy and comfort to Triaji and Freina, Tiaki’s feelings of isolation and resentment grew stronger. The sense of being an outsider in her own family weighed heavily on her heart.

Tiaki often found herself alone, watching from the sidelines as Freina, Tomie, and Triaji bonded. She tried to mask her pain with indifference, but the sadness was evident in her eyes. The rare moments she attempted to join in were met with polite but distant responses, deepening her sense of rejection.

One particularly cold evening, Freina announced she would be taking Triaji and Tomie to a nearby park for a picnic. Tiaki’s heart sank. She hadn’t been invited. Freina’s oversight wasn’t intentional, but to Tiaki, it felt like a deliberate exclusion.

As Freina and her two daughters prepared for their outing, Tiaki stayed in her room, staring at the walls. She heard their laughter and excitement echoing through the house, each sound a painful reminder of her isolation.

After they left, the house fell into an eerie silence. Tiaki wandered into the living room, the remnants of their preparations still scattered about. She picked up a forgotten scarf and held it close, tears welling in her eyes.

Her mind raced with memories of happier times, before Francis’ death, when her family was whole and her mother’s love was unconditional. But those memories only served to deepen her sorrow. The pain of being neglected and blamed for her father’s death was too much to bear.

As the sun began to set, Tiaki made a decision. She couldn’t stay in a place where she felt so unloved and invisible. She would leave and find a place where she could start anew, away from the shadows of her past.

She packed a small bag with a few belongings: a change of clothes, some snacks, and a cherished photo of her family from happier times. She hesitated for a moment, looking around the room one last time, before slipping out the back door.

The evening air was crisp and cool as Tiaki walked through the quiet streets. She didn’t know where she was going, but anywhere felt better than the suffocating loneliness of her home. She wandered aimlessly, her thoughts a whirlwind of emotions.

As night fell, Tiaki found herself in a small park, the same one where her family had gone for their picnic. She sat on a bench, hugging her bag to her chest, feeling a mixture of fear and determination. She had no clear plan, but she was resolute in her decision to leave.

Meanwhile, at the picnic, Freina, Triaji, and Tomie enjoyed the evening, unaware of Tiaki’s absence. As the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, Freina felt a sudden pang of guilt. She had been so caught up in her grief and the comfort of Triaji and Tomie’s presence that she had neglected her other daughter, the one who needed her love the most.

When they returned home, Freina’s heart sank. She called out for Tiaki, but there was no answer. Panic set in as she searched the house, finding Tiaki’s room empty and her belongings gone. The reality of her neglect hit her like a tidal wave, bringing with it a crushing sense of guilt and regret.

Triaji, sensing something was wrong, clung to Tomie, her innocent eyes filled with worry. “Where’s Tiaki?” she asked, her voice trembling.

Freina knelt beside her youngest daughter, tears streaming down her face. “I don’t know, Triaji,” she said, her voice choked with emotion. “But I promise we’ll find her.”

Tomie, always the voice of reason, tried to comfort them both. “We’ll look for her,” she said firmly. “We’ll find Tiaki and bring her home.”

The night was spent in a frantic search, but Tiaki was nowhere to be found. As dawn broke, Freina realized the extent of the damage her neglect had caused. She had driven her daughter away, and now she might never see her again.

Tiaki, meanwhile, continued her journey, determined to find a place where she could heal and start anew. The road ahead was uncertain, but she felt a glimmer of hope. Away from the shadows of her past, she believed she could find her own path and perhaps, one day, make peace with the pain she carried.

Back at home, the loss of Tiaki left a void that was felt by everyone. Freina, Triaji, and Tomie had to come to terms with their new reality, each grappling with their own guilt and sorrow. The once cozy home was now a place of unresolved grief and lingering regret, setting the stage for the difficult journey of healing and reconciliation that lay ahead.