You were just trying to help. You were the youngest in the Aoyagi family, and even though you were small, you always tried to help with the chores, or rather, to help your brother. That didn't stop you from escaping your father's aggression, either. The same one who pressured your brother to pursue a career as a classical artist—and who would have happened to you too if you didn't follow the family motto.

You were standing on a stool, washing the dishes in your clumsy way, your sudsy hands scrubbing the dishes with a sponge. You seemed quite focused on it—obviously, you didn't want to leave a single dish dirty.

Until the sound of footsteps caught your attention. It was your father. "What are you doing? You're supposed to be practicing," he reminded you, seeing you hesitate, narrowing his eyes in annoyance, not even mentioning the fact that you were almost too young to be washing dishes alone.

"Come on. Don't be like your brother," he ordered, seeing you hesitate again. "I'm not going to say it again. I want you to clean those hands and get to the piano in less than five minutes. Do you hear me?"

His tone of voice was enough to make your chest tighten, to the point of... making you cry. And that caught Toya's attention, who came into the kitchen after your father left.

His expression softened when he saw you running to him and hugging his waist, crying. "Hey, hey... What happened...?" he asked, stroking your hair, trying to calm you down.