III. QUESTIONS

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"P-papa," a whimper escaped the little girl's mouth as she crouched down on the tatami mat.

So young, no more than five years old. So fragile. A young girl who was supposed to be playing with dolls and sand castles was forced to endure such training. Her short midnight purple hair in pigtails were enough to show her innocence and yet the blood covering the side of her mouth, bruises surrounding her porcelain arms, sweats on her forehead, those are enough to show that she was more than an innocent girl. But her eyes, her coal black eyes shone with unshed tears as she looked at her father who was leaning on the wall, looking down at her.

"Father, I think that's enough for today," a young boy, about fifteen years of age, said. His eyes do not show concern but a disappointed look towards the girl clutching the side of her ribs from when he delivered a kick a while ago.

"Did I say stop? Continue the match, Kaito! Stand up Yoru!" The girl, Yoru, visibly flinched.

"Yoru, come at me and don't hesitate," He said

Slowly, young Yoru pulled herself up. Her legs shaking as she stood in front of her brother. And then, the match began. Before anyone of them could blink, Yoru was gone in thin air, leaving the two men whose furrowed brows ceased even deeper.

"Do you know what you lack, Yoru?"

"You lack motivation. You're an ignorant. Because you believe that you're strong, that's why you're not trying to win."

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