View source for Prologue: Kyoto Nightmares (Emi Hoshino)

{{Cutscene Header
|Date of Scene=2023/10/07
|Location=Kyoto
|Synopsis=Every night when Nanako goes to sleep, the same nightmare returns.
|Cast of Characters=Emi Hoshino, Nanako
|Tinyplot=None
}}
It was eight o’clock and Nanako was, once again, dreading the inevitable shout of her mother that it was time to get ready for bed.

Every night, Nanako would go through the same routine.

Her mother would shout and then she’d he’d brush her teeth, put on her comfortable PJs, and crawl into her comfortable bed. Once in bed, her mother would come in to tuck her in. She’d hug her close, cover her in kisses while telling her to ‘sleep tight’ between each set. The routine used to be warm, comfortable even, but as of late she’d started to resent it. It was making her feel like a baby, and Nanako was anything but. She was a big girl. 

But that was the least of her problems. She was having bad dreams again.

Every night, Nanako would find herself laying awake in bed. Her body felt strangely heavy, as if the blankets were weighing her down. She couldn’t move. She could just stare, stare straight ahead as the filtered moonlight reflected off the screen of her television and the white outline of her closet door. Her heart would start to pound faster because she knew he was coming.

Her sister called him ‘the needleman’. She didn’t actually believe in him, when she was awake, but here in her dreams, he was all too real. Her sister had told her how he’d steal into the rooms of lazy children at night and stitch himself a body from their cast-off clothes, about how he’d wrap a lazy child up in threads with his needle fingers and secret them away to his lair if they didn’t pick up after themselves.

It would start with a single knock from inside the closet. That’s how he’d announce himself every night,  and then she’d hear it, the scratching of metal on the inside door knob of the closet door, needle-fingers grasping for purchase, the knob slowly turning inward, rattling harder and harder until she’d see it pop open, a darkened shadow toppling out. A rustling sound, fabric on fabric, and then she’d see, just out of the bottom of her vision, shadows rising and falling, as if something was dragging itself bit by bit closer to her bed, as if it were swimming through the darkness towards her.

A tug on her blankets and sheets, then a harder one. Tearing sounds as a pair of twisted, gnarled hands stitched together out of fabric, tipped with silver needles, would find themselves on the edge of her bed, and then with a mighty yank, it would vault over the bed onto her.

Binding her up her sheets, her blankets, stitching her up and  smothering her, stealing her breath like the stories about the yamachiche her sister used to tell her. Even her little Baku pillow couldn’t keep it at bay. Worst of all, she’d hear it whispering in a  distorted echo of her mother’s voice.

“sleeptightsleeptightsleeptightsleeptight”
…and then she’d wake up, gasping for air, tangled in her sheets, half off the bed. Sweating. Wanting to scream. Too tired to do so. And then the memory of the nightmare would fade… until it was time for it to happen again.

Her parents had noticed she was always cranky in the morning lately. Her resulting bad attitude was wearing on them.. One temper tantrum on her part and they’d be fighting not long after, which only made Nanako feel guilty, feel worse, feel angry all the time. She even got in a fight with one of her sisters last night.

As she laid in the dark in her bed, she looked to the little table beside it and the little pink rose in a cup of water which sat on it. One of the older students at her school had stopped her and given it to her. She wasn’t really sure why, didn’t know her… but it was nice.  She seemed nice, even if she was dressed a little creepy. She’d always liked roses. They made her smile. Maybe tonight would be different. Maybe. 

Fight it though she tried, sleep inevitably claimed her and the sequence played out as before. The knocking. The handle. The door opening, the shadowy shape on her bedroom floor.

But, Nanako wasn’t alone this time. No, there was another girl with her. A girl in black and pink, surrounded by a haze of ephemeral webs that fluttered around her in an absent wind. A glimmering and hazy figure that had placed itself between her and her nightmare that had tormented her so. The girl glanced at her, winked a single, blue eye before facing down the shadow that rose up to loom over her. 

“Your reign of fear ends here, nightmare! To restore to her the serenity of sweet dreams and the tranquility of slumber, I shall banish you back to the darkness from which you were called!” A shimmer of pink and black energy arose like a wave off her, briefly illuminating the terror before her.

Its path interrupted, the Needleman shrieked, “You can sleep forever too, Guardian!” still speaking in her mother’s voice. It lunged in a flash, far faster than she’d ever seen it move, but the other girl was ready for it, defending herself in a swirl of webs, a haze of sand and sparkling glitter. It was … pretty. She would have found it prettier if she hadn’t been so terrified. 

The Guardian protected herself, cutting through fabric with her webs, and binding the Needleman in place. For a moment, it seemed it might hold, but a slash of razor sharp needles shattered them into disparate threads and they were soon slamming her into the window, the glass shattering into prismatic embers behind her. Round they went again, this time into the wall, cracks splintering like spider-webs themselves as the plaster dissolved into glittering dust. A frenzied battle of gossamer webs and red-tipped needles and  ink-black threads of binding fabric that  Nanako couldn’t bear to watch. Squeezed her eyes shut. Thought about her mother. About how much she loved her.

And then… quiet.

When she opened her eyes again, there was just the girl, standing in a pool of glimmering sand which was wisping up around her ankles and legs. She looked … tired. Tired and… sad somehow, Nanako thought.

“It’s gone now, Nanako. You’ll sleep easy from here out, I promise. But I want you to remember one thing, if nothing else, when you wake up. Sometimes, our dreams are just a way to help our minds to find the words we want to tell someone. Do you think you understand that?”

Slowly, Nanako nodded at her. She understood. And then she felt tired. More tired than the girl across from her looked, even.

“Will I see you again?” she asked, hesitantly.

“Only if your dreams need me,” replied her savior.

And then she was gone, a swirl of gossamer left behind in her wake that faded just like dreams always do.

When Nanako awoke, she was smiling, and soon, she couldn’t even remember why she’d ever been so scared.

Back in her own bed, Emi Hoshino awoke with a start.

Her chest ached, and she lifted her nightgown briefly to inspect the damage. Fresh bruising across her hip and stomach, and scratches down one shoulder. Could have been worse.  Should have been worse, probably, if she was being honest with herself about how hard she’d been pushing her luck night after night.

It wasn’t like she could afford to take a break. In fact, she was nearly out of time altogether. In less than 24 hours, she was being sent out of Kyoto to take up residency at the so-called ‘Radiant Heart’ Academy. A change of scenery might do her juvenile-delinquent-self some good, they said, and perhaps straighten her out as she’d clearly fallen in with a bad crowd here. 

There was no crowd. 

There was just her. 

Her and the nightmares.

At school the previous day, she could feel everyone’s eyes on her. She was sort of used to that, by now, especially after the whole ‘getting arrested’ thing. The acknowledgement that she even *had* been arrested was bad enough, and she’s not even slightly sure how word of that leaked in the first place, but she had a sneaking suspicion it was the same force that had arranged some of her troubles in the first place: the nightmare demon she was actually after. 

It distracted enough that she almost didn’t get the chance to give Nanako the rose. She’d seen the haunted look on her face, and had a sense of what it meant. It was fortunate she’d seen her out there, staring at the rose bushes before, or else she might’ve had to brute force her way into her dream to face that thing. Given how bad she ached right now, she didn’t much like the thought of that idea.

She rolled over in her bed to look at the pillow next to her, upon which sat a too-large, multi-colored spider, observing her with its many eyes. 

“I’m not sure I can beat it, KenKen,” she said to the spider.

“You can,” replied the spider, “and you will.”

Emi wished she shared her confidence.

Then again, KenKen was also the very thing that gave her the strength to wield the power of dreams itself. She’d have to be more confident in her than she was in herself, especially after all the mistakes she’d made. Getting caught up with those weird, animated mannequins at that store was bad enough, but that it had gotten influence over her therapist and used that against her? Worse. So much worse. 

Still, tonight hadn’t been a total bust. Even if she couldn’t track the connection between the dreamers, the nightmares, and the demon, at least she’d freed one more mind from its influence. That’d have to count for something, at least for now, until she could come back and deal with it once and for all. 

And when that time comes she’s not about to let it outmaneuver her again.