Chapter 1: The beginning of a twisted tale
"Sweety-Bird, this is Chi-Chi, your new brother!"
"EEEEEHHHHHH?!"
A young girl's voice shrieked out in surprise before a thump cut her off.
Looking out from behind my new guardian's legs, I checked to see what happened. What greeted me was the sight of a girl, about seventeen years of age, face planted on the ground and hands in the air holding her school bag and lunchbox.
Feeling a bit bad for her, I walked forward and took them from her hand, helping her up. Patting the dust away from her skirt and smoothing away the wrinkles, I then carefully placed her lunchbox in her bag and handed it to her.
Looking up at her, I'm faced with the replica of her parents. She had the same jade eyes and fae-like facial structure as her mother (shown to me via a picture by her father), but the full lips and spiky hair were all her father's. She gave off a rather sporty but reliable look dressed in her high school's navy blue and white spring uniform with her bright red converse.
Realizing that it was rude to stare at her, I averted my eyes and bowed down to introduce myself.
"Good morning Fushiguro-san, I am Kasai Chikao, your foster brother as of today. If you wish, you may also address me by Chi-Chi as your father does, I'll be in your care."
Reacting to my words, she automatically bowed back, albeit a little taken back by my mature greetings. "Ah...right. I'm Fushiguro Yuu, your...new sister? Please take care of me." she shakily replied. "Eto, can I have a moment with my Dad please?"
Understanding her confusion, I merely nodded my head and looked at the man in question. "Where would you like me to go?"
He quickly answered my question excitedly. "Why don't you go check out your new room. I'm sure you'd like to get situated in your new home after all." After giving me the directions on where it was, Yuu had her hand locked around his wrist in a tight grip, rushing him to the kitchen with a laugh that sounded off and a stiff smile.
I expected this was going to happen. You can't just show up with an opening like that after all.
Oh well.
Shrugging my shoulders, I gripped my luggage and made my way to my designated bedroom.
Coming across a door that had a cute bamboo door plaque titled Chi-Chi, my hand gripped the door handle and twisted it open. Observing the soft-looking bed, I made my way over and sat on it, placing my suitcase at the foot.
Looking around, there was a desk next to my bed placed against the wall where the head was. On the opposite wall was a standard wardrobe and then the door to where I guess the bathroom was.
Flopping myself down, I hugged one of the many plushies that adorned my bed, courtesy of Fushiguro-san, and thought about what the hell my life is.
I had been thirty-four years of age and working as a pediatrician when I was killed in a shoot-out on a snack run to the store.
(Damn my midnight cravings.)
Not many things happened after that, so it was just a long couple of decades floating in a dark place before I was plopped into the body of a two-year-old.
Unfortunately, the previous owner of this body had his family die in a house fire and was left as an orphan at the mercy of the system when he had met his end when a car barreled into him on the weekly walk around the neighborhood.
(It was probably an assassination attempt no doubt. Going through his memories, I saw the greedy and jealous faces of his relatives when he had been named successor to the family business. I recognized the driver as one of the maids that served them. None of them wanted to take him in even though they had the resources to, and wanted to remove him from the position of the successor.)
According to the law, I wouldn't have any access to my inheritance until I was at least sixteen at the earliest. And while I was left with the family home, I don't reckon I'll be able to live by myself until my fourteenth birthday passed under the emancipation laws in Japan.
So it was just me occupying this body (which wasn't really hard since I hid most of the time so no one would bother me and kept my head down) for three years until a couple had decided to take me into their home.
Apparently, the Fushiguros were family friends with my parents, and Fushiguro Hiroto—my new caretaker slash foster father—actually worked as Chikao's father's assistant of some sort. I remember seeing his family at the funeral and wake; he and his wife both gave me a tight hug in understanding, not saying anything else, knowing nothing would help the grief the confused toddler was currently undergoing.
Originally, they were named as my guardians at the reading of the will in the case that both of my parents had died instead of my relatives and were given the authority to take care of the company in my stead until I come of age, but somehow (I'm heavily betting on my relatives' interference) they had only gotten the notice two years after the death of their dear friends.
The look of disdain and disapproval on my aunt's face when she rushed in, trying to stop him from finishing the legal papers to take me in, was nowhere near as intimidating as his own blank expression, his gunmetal blue eyes, ice-cold with silent fury at the nerve of the woman made everyone in the office where the transaction took place weary of him.
It was unnerving seeing his face change back to the warm visage he had when he came across me at the orphanage as he turned around to face me and gently ask me to go and wait near the bookshelf as he finishes the work. Not wanting to get mixed up in the drama, I hurried out of the matron's office; but, before I fully get out of range, my ears caught his words toward the woman. His tone was akin to a predator honing in on his prey.
"It's been exactly two years, Hitomi-chan. How have you been these days?"
Ignoring the upcoming fight that was no doubt approaching, I sped up my pace and sat in my corner, and pulled out a book to keep myself occupied. Eventually, he came out of the office looking as carefree as the moment he came in and crouched down next to me. Waiting for me to finish the page I was on, he stood up and waited for me to hold his expecting hand. Not minding, I clasped my small hand in his giant one and tugged him to the room where I was sleeping to pack up my things, and just as quickly, we were gone.
(In the corner of my eye, a large bone-white hand curiously palmed at the window, as if trying to get through. The scent of old paper and some sort of incense permeated through the air despite the room being recently cleaned.)
Glancing the window, I observed the street, breathing in the scent of baked goods from the bakery down the street. Little schoolchildren were walking to their respective schools, chattering with their friends and peers while the office workers talked on their phones and mothers pushed their strollers full of babies.
How quaint
Leaning off the side of the—unusually comfortable—bed, I rummaged through my briefcase and pulled out a soft yellow drawstring bag. Checking the tag to make sure it was the right one, I leaned against the headboard and pulled out a pair of knitting needles and a navy blue ball of yarn—gifted to me by a doting Fushiguro Hiroto —and started on my slipknots.
My hands went on autopilot after my second knot, the motions ingrained in my mind.
I decided to make a simple scarf without many complicated patterns due to my unaccustomed four-year-old hands. For me, it was key that I get back and running like a normal human being so dexterity was a skill I forced myself to relearn. Knitting was a perfect finger exercise to challenge me although it was frustrating that I had many years of experience but a lacking body to keep it up with.
I've already finished twenty scarves—each new one looking better than the last. It's only a matter of time before I get back to my level of mastery.
A knock on the door clears my thoughts away as Fushiguro-san pushes his head inside—a bright red handprint on his left cheek as he chuckles without a care in the world.
"You should put an ice pack on that Fushiguro-san, or else it will bruise greatly." I informed him.
He only laughed and waved it off. "Eh heh, don't worry about it Chi-Chi; it'll go away eventually. Also, you can call me Ji-chan if you like, we're practically family anyway, you're as much as my child as my daughter is to your parents." Walking closer, he took a seat on the bed by my legs. "So how are you liking your room?"
(A bone-white hand presses against the window-)
"It's perfect, thank you."
A hand ruffles my choppy black hair. "Eh, don't worry about it. We can add more things inside later if you want to."
"But-"
I'm stopped by his pouting face as he leaned forward.
"But Chi-Chiiiii! You have to add some stuff to spruce it up a bit; it'd just look like any other bedroom instead of Chi-Chi's, you know?"
I nodded, flabbergasted by his whining.
(He looked so composed and serious at first glance; the polar opposite from the man in front of me.)
Satisfied, he leaned back and proceeded to talk about the rules of the house. Nothing special, just a few reminders not to let in strangers or play with the knives from the kitchen, things like that. Then he started on the subject of school.
"You'll be going to the grade school Yuu-chan went to when she was your age, and it's just a block away from her high school so you kids can walk to and from school together. Just remember to wait by the school gates after the day is finished and wait for her; it'll take a while for her to remember to—she's forgetful like that but don't take it to heart—so be patient while you wait, okay?"
Seeing me nod, he reached forward and pulled me up against his chest, and started braiding a lock of my hair. "
She'll come to pick you up every other three days since she's a member of some sports clubs over at her school. So make sure to always have your phone on you and to be careful of strangers on the way home, okay?"
"Okay."
"Any questions?"
I shook my head in answer.
"Okay then," he stood up from the bed and held out his hand to me, "Now let's get going, breakfast is ready."
Placing my knitting materials back into the pouch, I shuffled off the bed and took his hand.
(The scent of incense and old paper filled-)
"Did you make Unagi?" I asked, pushing up my wire-framed glasses with my unoccupied hand.
Fushiguro-san turned to me in surprise, closing the door behind us. "Yeah, I actually did. How did you know?"
I shrugged, letting him tug me towards the dining room.
"My nose picks up a lot of things."
He hummed at that. "That's a pretty cool quirk you got there."
An inflectionless chuckle left my breath, leaving no room for interpretation as I plastered my eyes straight down the hallway.
"I suppose."
(The white hand trailed its way across the walls of the hallways beside me, its figure-)
"Did your daughter leave on time?" I asked.
"Hn?" Glancing at me he looked at his watch. "Oh yeah, there's plenty of time left for her. She's a fast runner anyway so she'll make it with some time left to spare for sure."
I let out a hum. "That's good, I'd hate to be the one to make her late."
A laugh erupted out of him, the atmosphere lit up as each laugh got out. "Oh don't worry about that. Yuu-chan's a strong girl. She's always been a good child, that one, and pretty easy to get along with; I'm sure she wouldn't mind being called Nee-chan by an adorable boy either." He hinted, not being subtle at all.
I let out an amused hum. "We'll see."
Although I wouldn't mind it myself, she seemed like an interesting person.
(Yuu-san kind of reminds me of someone, though I don't dare contemplate what that means.)
