Sunlight is peeking tentatively through the curtains as the small black-haired child opens her sleepy eyes. She is silent - no yawning, no stretching, no groaning. She has long since mastered the art of silence. There was once a time when she could be noisy without fear of punishment, a time when she was too young to be hit. That time is long gone, and she has developed ways to be as quiet and unobtrusive as possible.
She slips into her school uniform. If she wears leggings underneath her skirt and a sweater over her white button down shirt, she can hide the bruises. Quickly, she pries up one of the floorboards by her bed and stuffs her secrets into it. Her secrets will one day save her life, she's sure of it. They are few in number, but powerful: a knife, stolen from the drawer, which she clutches in her hands as she sleeps; sixty-four dollars and seventy-two cents; and a piece of paper with an address on it, the address of the kindest person she has ever known.
As she exits her room, the door opens with a soft creak, and the girl holds her breath, terrified that she will awaken the monster. Thankfully, he remains asleep, and she slowly lets out the air from her lungs. Her thin shoulders are tense as she tiptoes into the kitchen.
She packs herself a small lunch - crackers, cheese, an apple, and a bottle of water - and makes sure to wipe every crumb from the counter when she finishes. After all, messes bring harsh consequences.
At school, no one ever asks. She exchanges a quiet good morning with Ise Nanao, whose dark hair and petite frame remind her of herself, except Nanao doesn't have any marks to hide. She endures a hug from the overly cheerful Matsumoto Rangiku, resisting the urge to wince as her cuts and bruises are jostled. Seireitei Academy is full of children who don't know, children who don't have to lock their bedroom doors at night and sleep with weapons in their hands, who only fear the monsters in storybooks and not the ones asleep on the couch.
The teacher doesn't notice, and if she does, she doesn't mention it, because that would be rude, of course.
Math and science don't hold much interest for her, but she enjoys language arts and history. Reading allows her to esape reality, if only for a little while. History is especially appealing because it is made up of the stories of those who were destined to fail but somehow managed not to, and she hopes she can be that strong.
She wants to drag her feet on the walk home, wants to dawdle and linger for so long that she'll get home at midnight, if ever. But she can't. She is expected to cook dinner, and tardiness will prompt a swift punishment. She does her homework as quickly as possible, not really caring if her answers are right or wrong.
Dinner is simple - fried eggs over rice, a thick slice of buttery cornbread, and iced tea. She recieves a sharp slap for being slow, but is left alone for the most part. As long as she makes the food and keeps the house clean, he doesn't really take much notice of what she does. It's just as well, really. If he's noticing her, it usually means she's doing something wrong.
She locks her door and grasps the handle of the knife beneath the covers. Sleep does not come easily, but it eventually shows its elusive face, and she spends the night dreaming of starlit skies and loving families, mothers and fathers and siblings who share her shiny black hair and curious green eyes. They will comfort her through the night, but morning will chase them away, and she will wake up in a world where she is alone and her father doesn't look anything like her.
In a way, it's better. The nighttime air blankets her dreams, keeps them safe and hidden from the rest of the world. Here, she is safe. The lock on the door and the knife in her hand will keep the monster at bay. She can rest without fear of attack.
Kurotsuchi Nemu closes her eyes, and she sleeps.