Faded memories

A quiet knock broke the stillness of the room.

“Big brother, are you awake?”

Tetsuo lifted his head from the papers scattered across his desk. The lamp’s dim light barely reached half the room, leaving the rest swallowed in shadow. “Yes,” he answered.

“I’m coming in,” Usagi said softly. The door creaked open, letting in a thin line of light from the hallway before she closed it again. The air inside was still, heavy with the faint scent of old paper and ink.

“If you don’t mind… can I sleep with you tonight?”

Tetsuo turned his chair slightly, glancing over his shoulder. “Sure. But I’ve got some research to finish for tomorrow, so you can go ahead and sleep first.”

Usagi nodded and placed her pillow near the bed’s edge. The mattress gave a small creak beneath her weight. The sound of the sheets rustling was the only thing that filled the quiet.

“There was a time you used to tell me stories when I couldn’t sleep,” she murmured. “Feels like forever ago.”

Tetsuo gave a faint nod. “Yeah. Feels like it was just yesterday.”

She smiled faintly, her eyes half-lidded. “You’ve always protected me, you know? Even now… with everything that’s happened. You’d still risk your life just to keep me safe.” Her voice softened to a whisper. “That’s what I love about you, Tetsuo. You’re the kind of big brother every girl wants.”

Her words slowed, drifting into the rhythm of drowsiness. “So… don’t ever leave me, okay?”

Within moments, her breathing steadied into sleep.

Tetsuo stayed silent, watching the rise and fall of her shoulders. Then he stood and quietly walked over, pulling the blanket up to her chin. A few strands of her hair fell across her forehead. He brushed them aside with the back of his hand.

You’ve always been the little life that anchors me to this world, he thought. I don’t care what happens to me… as far as I’m concerned, I already died a long time ago. But you—you're the reason I’m still here.

He turned back to his desk, flipping open his notebook. “Gym class first thing tomorrow,” he muttered. “Guess I should get my gear ready.”

As he reached for his bag, his elbow struck the picture frame sitting by the lamp. The soft clink of glass echoed as it fell to the floor.

He crouched down and picked it up carefully. The photo inside showed four people—his father, his mother, himself, and Usagi. His father’s hand rested gently on his mother’s shoulder. Usagi stood in front, smiling brightly, a small ribbon in her hair. Tetsuo stood beside her, one hand resting lightly on her head. The photo’s edges were worn and slightly bent.

He looked at it quietly, his expression unreadable.

---

Flashback

The scent of antiseptic filled the air. White walls stretched endlessly under the bright glow of hospital lights.

A boy, barely ten, ran barefoot down the corridor, the back of his hospital gown fluttering with each step. His hand gripped tightly around that of a small girl, around six years old, dressed in regular clothes with a crooked ribbon in her hair.

“Big brother, where are we going?” she asked, panting to keep up.

“Somewhere safe,” he said firmly. “Somewhere no one can take you away from me.”

She looked up at him. “Do you… want me to stay with you?”

He slowed and turned, his dark eyes meeting hers. “Do you want to stay with me?”

She nodded quickly. “Yes. Forever.”

He gave a small nod back. “Then forever.”

They ran again. The emergency doors swung open, and a rush of cold night air swept into the sterile hallway. Outside, the ground glistened from fresh rain. Their feet slapped against the wet pavement as they ran—away from the building, away from the sterile lights that had taken too much already.

Two children, hand in hand, disappeared into the city’s dim glow.

---

Present

The sound of rain faded from memory. Tetsuo blinked, his focus returning to the quiet room.

He set the photo back on the desk, wiping away a smudge of dust on the glass. His faint reflection looked back at him—older, colder, a ghost of the boy who once ran barefoot through the rain.

“I hope you’re doing well… Mom, Dad,” he said quietly.

The lamp’s light caught the photo again. The family of four smiled back at him from a world long gone.

Tetsuo straightened the frame, then turned his gaze toward the window. Through the curtains, a pale shaft of moonlight slipped into the room, painting the desk in silver.

Usagi stirred slightly in her sleep, murmuring something he couldn’t hear. Her fingers clutched the edge of the blanket, the same way she used to hold his hand when she was little.

Tetsuo watched her for a moment longer.

I’ll protect her, no matter what happens. That’s the only promise I’ll never break.

He turned off the desk lamp, leaving only the moonlight to fill the room.

The photograph glinted once before fading into the dark.

The night stayed still, and so did he.