Disclaimer: I don't own Nightmare Inspector or any characters therein.
A Myriad of Broken Promises
1.
Chitose's earliest memory is the birth of his younger sister. More specifically, the aftermath.
Their mother is lying on her futon, still and silent, face pale and eyes closed. She is dead. Chitose won't know this until later. Right now, his attention is focused on the little curiosity bundled up in a cradle. At four years old, he is barely tall enough to peer over the edge of the cradle and take a look at his baby sister.
Sachi, they've named her. 'Child of joy.' (Chitose is old enough to know that his own name means 'long blessed life,' and feels lucky to have parents thoughtful enough to name their children thus. Surely names with meanings like those promise good luck in the future.) Her eyes are the same deep, smoky blue-black color as his, the same as their mother's. She doesn't have any hair yet, but Chitose is sure that when it grows in, it will be the pitch black that both their parents boast.
From what Chitose can tell, the baby cannot speak, sit up, eat on its own, or really do anything of interest at all. But for some inexplicable reason, he loves her instantly.
"I'll protect you," he whispers suddenly. "You're my little sister, so I'll always protect you."
It's the first of several promises Chitose will make to his sister, and eventually break.
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2.
Sachi Kurosu is seven years old. Her brother Chitose is eleven. It has been seven years since the death of their mother, six since their father left home after dinner and never came back (it was a week before they were told that he had jumped to his death from the tallest bridge within walking distance).
They've lived alone ever since, in the little seaside shack with the well and small vegetable garden outside. They have water and food, and they have each other. They need nothing else.
Sometimes, merchants come through and pass along city gossip to the little orphans that always give them a cool drink. It's through this system that they are told of the elevator.
It's the first time Sachi has ever fallen in love with an inanimate object.
Chitose smiles at her exuberance over the sheer novelty of the machine, and bites back a wistful sigh when she voices wishes to ride in one. He would like to try it as well. The only difference is that his seniority gives him the ability to judge when something is impossible.
Still, this is his little sister, and he would set about trying to capture the moon if it would make her happy. So he smiles and ruffles her hair (pitch black, just as he'd predicted all those years ago) and says "We'll go on one someday. I promise."
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3.
When Chitose is thirteen and Sachi nine, they beg their way into an orphanage on the outskirts of the city. They have no other choice. The winter has been nothing short of horrific; the garden boasts nothing more than a few twigs and some frozen ground, and there is a thick sheet of ice covering the water in the well. So they are forced to leave the little house with whatever they can carry and journey to the closest shelter.
Luckily, the landlady there has a soft spot for small girls. And she can hardly turn out one sibling and not the other.
After they've been there a few months, talk of adoption begins to float around. Apparently tenants here don't remain tenants long. Chitose supposes he should be grateful for this. Sachi isn't convinced.
"Don't worry about it," he tells her often. "If anyone tries to adopt one of us, they'll have to take the other. I won't let us be separated."
She takes it as the oath that it is, and is comforted,
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4.
They come when Chitose is nearly fifteen.
It's clear to the landlady that these people are not looking for a child to love and nurture. They're looking for a plaything. No, these are not kind people. These are people who would set a kitten on fire and laugh as it screams.
But what can she do? More children are showing up at her doorstep nearly every day; she can't afford to let them all stay on.
So she bites her tongue and tries to keep business going as usual while three young men wander through the throngs of children.
Chitose sees them coming a mile away and listens to his gut. He hides Sachi in a cupboard, as surreptitiously as he can, and tells her to stay there. Then he holes himself up in a corner and tries to pretend he is no more significant than a mite of dust.
They see him anyway, partly because animal instinct senses it when prey is trying to hide. Chitose is all but radiating waves of Don't come near me, please don't come near me. Besides, it's extremely difficult to miss such a pretty boy. Eyes like those aren't easy to come by.
Their minds are made up almost instantly. And Chitose knows it.
His heart sinking, he waits until the men leave to room to seal the deal. Then he races to the cupboard where his sister is hiding-Sachi, she's my treasure, who will look after her when I'm gone?-and whispers, "I'm going to the bathroom, okay? Those men are still here, so don't come out for a while."
His voice doesn't crack as he tells the lie. He's surprised.
"Okay," Sachi whispers back.
Chitose rests his head against the cheap wood and shuts his eyes tight. Hot tears roll down his face. How can he leave her behind?
"Everything is going to be all right," he says softly. "Sachi? I promise."
He moves away from the cupboard so that she won't hear them take him away.
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5.
Days pass. They start out simple. He gets food and water. He is allowed a use of the bathroom. Then he is tied up in the shed with his arms over his head, left there for hours, feeling pain start to set in as the blood flees his limbs.
Soon he will miss these days.
And weeks later-when there is nothing, nothing, nothing but pain and Please God make it stop-he does miss them. Or he would, if he bothered to think about it, and he's found that thinking about anything only makes everything worse.
He screams. Every day, almost nonstop. He screams. He screams until his voice dies and even then he still screams, except that it's silent. His throat tears, the skin just beneath his eyes chafes from the constant flow of tears. His life is nothing but a marathon of agony that pauses only when the torturers turn in for the night.
Somehow, the nights are worse. When he's left to dwell on his pain, when he's left to wait in dread for the sun to peer through the cracks in the door, and hear that horrible voice say "Good morning, Chitose. Ready to have some more fun with us?"
He is a plaything. A doll. They laugh at his misery. His bones are broken, and they snicker at the crack. His blood pours from open wounds, and they cackle.
One morning, the ringleader comes in with a pair of rusting iron pliers. He presses the sharp points almost gently against Chitose's upper and lower eyelids.
"What pretty eyes," he murmurs, smiling. The smile doesn't leave his face when the points of the pliers suddenly push in deep and come together.
Chitose's screech is something inhuman. And the other occupants of the shed howl with laughter.
Every night, Chitose thinks of his sister and thanks God-if there even is one-that these sick monsters didn't see her.
Never, he vows one night, when his eye is bleeding and blurring his vision into red. Never will I let Sachi go through this. Never.
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6.
Sachi isn't stupid. At first she hoped the men would return, either to give her beloved brother back or take her as well. After all, nii-san promised that we'd always be together. And nii-san has never lied to me.
But a month passes. Two. Six. And then she realizes Chitose isn't coming back.
She asks around. With work, she realizes what happened.
She can't just stand by. Her brother always protected her and took care of her. They are two halves of the same whole. They can't exist without each other.
So, she sneaks out of the orphanage in the dead of night. She doesn't know where those men live, but she will find out. She'll do whatever it takes.
Wait for me, nii-san. I'll rescue you.
I promise.
.Owari