Driven by Achievements

The days leading up to the funeral were the hardest yet.

Leo and Lily had begun to ask more questions—innocent, confused, persistent.

"Where's Mama?"

"When is Papa coming back?"

"Why haven't they come to say goodnight?"

At first, Kai tried to delay the truth, deflecting with soft answers, saying that Mama and Papa were away for a while. But it didn't last. Each night, the twins would cry in their sleep, waking up in tears, calling for their parents. Leo had nightmares—short, panicked whimpers turning into sobs—and Lily would crawl into Kai's bed, clinging to his shirt like it was the only thing keeping her safe.

Kai knew. He couldn't wait any longer.

They needed to understand, as much as their little hearts and minds could.

So, that morning—just three days before the funeral—when they asked again with wide, watery eyes, Kai didn't brush it off. He sat them down on the living room couch, crouching in front of them until they were face to face. The sun filtered weakly through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. Both twins fell silent, watching him closely.

He looked tired. Pale. And they noticed. Even their usual fidgeting quieted down when they saw the way their big brother was looking at them—serious, a little sad, like he was holding something very heavy inside.

Kai reached out and took their little hands gently.

"Mama and Papa…" he began, his voice cracking just slightly, "they won't be coming home anymore."

They blinked at him, confused. Lily tilted her head. Leo frowned, his brows pinched like he was trying to solve a puzzle.

"They had an accident," Kai said softly. "And... sometimes, when accidents are really bad, people don't come back. They go to a place far away. A peaceful place. A place where they don't hurt anymore."

He paused, trying to find the words. "Mama and Papa are in heaven now. They can't come back, but they're still watching us. Watching you. Every day. They love you so, so much. They always will."

There was silence. Kai could see their little minds trying to make sense of it.

"But… but I want Mama to hug me…" Lily finally whispered, her voice breaking.

"I want Papa too," Leo added, his eyes brimming with tears. "I miss them…"

"I know," Kai said, his voice trembling. "I miss them too. So much."

And then the dam broke.

Both children burst into tears—heart-wrenching sobs, small fists clinging to Kai's shirt as they threw themselves into his arms. He held them tightly, his heart shattering with every cry, every muffled "Mama" and "Papa." He didn't cry this time—not because it didn't hurt, but because he had to be strong. For them.

That night, they cried themselves to sleep, curled tightly around him like he might disappear too. Their tiny bodies trembled in his arms, and Kai stayed with them, holding them until their breathing slowed. He stared at the ceiling in the dark, his eyes wide open, his own chest aching, his own tears silent.

The days that followed were quiet but difficult. Leo and Lily rarely left his side. If he went to the kitchen, they followed. If he went to the bathroom, they waited outside the door. He didn't mind. He understood. Their whole world had changed, and he was the only piece left standing.

So he did everything he could to keep them smiling. He played with them, danced around the living room, made them silly shaped pancakes. He built pillow forts and turned their tears into laughter where he could. Slowly—bit by bit—their days brightened. Their laughter returned, not every moment, but enough.

And then, the day of the funeral arrived.

It was a quiet, private service—only close friends and family. His parents' old friends came, holding flowers and eyes full of sorrow. Some hugged Kai tightly. Others knelt down and gently patted Leo and Lily's heads, whispering gentle condolences the children didn't fully understand.

Kai wore a simple black suit, his siblings dressed in matching navy-blue coats and shoes. They didn't let go of him—not once. They sat beside him during the service, one on each side, clinging to his hands, their little fingers locked with his.

The ceremony passed in slow, silent waves—words were spoken, tears were shed. The twins cried quietly, calling for their parents in tiny voices that made Kai's chest cave in, but he stayed strong. He held them. He didn't cry this time. His grief had folded into something else—something steady. A quiet promise.

He would carry this. All of it. For them.

By the end of the funeral, Leo had fallen asleep in his arms, Lily soon after. Their little faces were red and puffy from crying, but they were peaceful now, resting against him as the weight of the day finally took its toll.

He carried them home—one in each arm.

Once they were tucked into bed, Kai sat in the quiet living room. The apartment felt too still, too empty. His eyes drifted over to the framed photo of his parents on the shelf. He stared at it, long and quiet.

Everything had changed in just over a week.

He felt numb. Exhausted. But under it all, there was something new growing inside him—resolve.

He would give them everything. A life filled with love, safety, and warmth. A life their parents would have wanted. A life they deserved.

He owed that to them.

He owed it to his parents.

He owed it to himself.

That night, he washed up quickly, then crawled into bed beside the twins. Lily shifted and wrapped her arms around his waist. Leo rolled toward him and buried his face in his chest. And for the first time in over a week, Kai fell asleep quickly—his body giving in to the rest it had been begging for.

The next day, life didn't slow down. But he started something new.

He created a routine—gentle, structured, full of warmth. Every morning, he woke early, got himself ready, then prepared breakfast before gently waking the twins. There were bumps, of course—burnt toast, tantrums, spilled juice—but with time, it smoothed out.

He washed their faces, dressed them, brushed their teeth, and gently started reintroducing them to daycare. The first few times were the hardest—the moment he turned to leave, they cried loudly, their little hands reaching out, calling his name through tears. Each goodbye broke Kai's heart, but he stayed strong, reassuring them that he would always come back. Slowly, over days filled with patience and hugs, their cries softened. They still asked for him, still watched the door, but they began to settle. And with time—when laughter returned to their mornings and they came home with smiles—they started to enjoy it again.

A month passed, and the twins were spending full days at daycare once more. They laughed with the other children, came home with drawings and stories, their cheeks flushed with joy. Seeing their little smiles return filled Kai with a quiet pride.

Not long after the funeral, Kai made a difficult call. He contacted his racing manager and told him he was stepping away from racing—maybe for good.

The conversation was short, but it stayed with him.

There was a pause on the other end of the line when Kai explained his decision. Then the manager sighed, not with disappointment, but with understanding.

"You had real potential, Kai," he said gently. "You know that. You could've made it far—maybe even pro. But... I get it. You're doing what you have to do. What you believe in. That takes strength too. I'm proud of you, kid. And if you ever want to come back, just call."

Kai had smiled faintly, even if the goodbye hurt.

Racing had been a huge part of his life. He'd loved the speed, the control, the freedom. But the twins needed him more than the track did. And he knew he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he gave them anything less than his full attention.

He let that dream go, at least for now. Maybe forever.

Because this—being there for Leo and Lily—was the most important thing he'd ever do.

In that time, everything had finally been sorted out. The will had been processed, granting him full custody—he was now their legal guardian. The apartment was officially in his name, and the inheritance had been transferred, giving him just enough security to focus on the twins without constant fear of what tomorrow might bring.

But the nights were still hard.

The nightmares came now and then—frantic cries in the dark, small hands shaking him awake, afraid he'd disappear too. And every time, he was there. Holding them. Whispering gently. Stroking their hair until they calmed.

He couldn't take their pain away. But he could be there for it.

He could love them through it.

And slowly, steadily, he would guide them through the darkness—one step at a time.

Because he wasn't just their big brother now.

He was everything.

And he would give them a life worth living.

No matter what.

His university would start in just under a month. Kai knew that once it did, his time would be stretched thinner. Not like before—when he juggled school and racing—but still, less than what he had now. So he decided to make the most of every single day until then, building memories with Leo and Lily that they could all hold on to.

They went to the park often, the twins giggling as they held onto each of his hands, swinging their legs with every step. He'd chase them around the grassy fields, pretending to be a monster while they shrieked with laughter, only to collapse into a tickle fight that left them breathless and smiling.

At home, he cooked with them, even if it turned his small kitchen into a disaster zone. He'd give them little tasks like stirring pancake batter or washing veggies. Lily once dumped a whole bag of flour onto the counter—and some onto Kai—while Leo snuck strawberries into his mouth when he thought no one was looking. The kitchen was loud and messy, but filled with warmth and joy.

Shopping trips were chaotic. The twins would run ahead, distracted by bright colors and candy displays, and Kai would call after them, maneuvering the cart like he was in a race again. It was exhausting, sure—but their laughter made every frantic moment worth it. Strangers often smiled at the sight of him, clearly overwhelmed, but still smiling with love.

These days were loud, clumsy, a little wild—but they were beautiful.

Slowly, all of them learned to live with the pain of loss. The sharp sting began to dull, softened by the steady rhythm of laughter, small victories, and everyday chaos. The twins still missed their parents—Kai did too—but together, they found comfort in each other. They were learning to live again, not by forgetting, but by loving harder with what remained.

Their journey, as messy and imperfect as it was, was something special. Splendid, even. They were each other's anchors—Kai, the big brother turned parent, holding them together with every ounce of strength he had. And the twins, in all their innocence and joy, kept him from falling apart. They gave him purpose. And in return, he gave them everything he could: his time, his love, his whole heart.

And somehow, that was enough.

The month had flown by quicker than Kai could've imagined. Today marked his first day of university. A new chapter.

He woke early, just like he had for the past few weeks. He got ready quietly, careful not to disturb the peaceful silence of the apartment. Then he moved into the kitchen and began making breakfast. Since it was a special day, he made their favorite—pancakes with strawberries. The scent of warm batter and sweet fruit filled the small space, wrapping everything in a cozy, familiar warmth.

When everything was ready, he set the table, took a deep breath, and made his way to the twins' room.

He pushed the door open slowly, greeted by the soft glow of the morning sun peeking through the curtains. Leo and Lily were still tucked under their blankets, breathing gently, their little chests rising and falling in rhythm. They looked like tiny angels, utterly at peace. It was moments like these that always made his heart ache just a little—because he knew how much they'd been through already.

But there wasn't much time. They still had to wash up, eat, get dressed, and then he needed to drop them off at daycare before rushing off to university.

Kai walked over to their beds and knelt down between them.

"Leo... Lily," he whispered gently, brushing a hand through their hair.

Lily stirred first, blinking slowly as her eyes adjusted. "Brother...?"

"Good morning, sleepyhead," he said softly, smiling.

Leo turned over and let out a small groan. "Nooo... more sleep."

Kai chuckled and leaned down, pressing a kiss to each of their foreheads. "Not today, little ones. It's a special morning. I made pancakes with strawberries."

That did the trick. Lily sat up with a little gasp. "Strawb'ries?"

Leo rubbed his eyes, finally sitting up too. "I want pancakes!"

"Then let's get up and wash your faces, yeah?" Kai said, holding out both hands.

They reached for him sleepily, their fingers curling around his. He gently pulled them up, leading them toward the bathroom, the soft patter of their feet echoing behind him.

It was the start of a new routine—a harder one, maybe. But as Kai glanced back at the two yawning, half-awake kids following him, he felt a little more ready.