Notes

Chihiro was born to college sweethearts Fujisaki Taichi and Fujisaki Himari, coming into the world nearly three months too early. Most pictures taken of them as an infant couldn’t hide how small they were and countless machines that seemed to follow them around, with their parents barely being able to keep up with what was happening, adjusting in their own ways.
As Chihiro grew into an equally small child, Taichi was overprotective. He adored his small child and despite his long work hours, dedicated himself to her. Himari on the other hand always seemed a bit more distant then their father, tending to worry herself more over work. She always seemed too bubbly to be part of the quiet Fujisaki family, though the days when she was home sparked energy in the household that could rarely be seen.
Taichi couldn’t help but worry about Chihiro, even as the visits to the hospitals grew fewer and she caught up with her peers. He always flinched and worried each time they fell to the pavement when playing, always bringing them home after out of worry for her and didn’t let her dance around in the snow with the other children. “You’re too weak for that,” He’d quietly say, eyes flashing as he looked down at them. “Would you rather watch some movies instead?”
Too weak. Those words rang in their ears as they looked up at their father and mumbled in agreement.
When they hit school, their teachers and classmates easily noticed how antisocial they were. They always preferred to sit in the back of the classroom, rarely saying much to their classmates outside of the few times they had to work together and tending to stay on the sidelines. They were exempt from gym class due to their severe asthma, and skipped over many trips that Taichi found to be too “overwhelming”- although he tried his best to not make them feel bad about this and instead spent the day with them when this happened. They were happy, even if part of her still felt lonely when clutching onto her father’s hand.
Then, the bullying started. At first it wasn’t much, with some classmates taking to teasing them. They wondered why they were a bit chubbier than the other kids, why she always got to sit out when they had to do laps around the gym, and why they didn’t let them fade into the background. No, kids were cruel like that.
The teasing was merciless, and they always noticed when their deskmate would purposely whisper loudly about them. They always heard their laughter, their sneering, and it grew worse when they didn’t do anything. Teachers didn’t notice when she was shoved around in the halls and even internally remarked it was good when they saw bruises on their wobbly knees, that it meant she was being more active now.
Weak.
She was always more sickly.
Weak.
They let the others watch them cry when they were pushed to the ground.
Weak.
They didn’t say a word when their father tried to gently let down their request of attending a field trip.
Weak. Weak. Weak. Weak.
Even at a young age, being in their mind was horrible. They learned what it was like to wonder what it was like if they just died by the time they hit their earliest middle school year, and suffered internally. Although Taichi pulled her out by the end of that first year and put them in therapy, it was too late.
They had one thing, at least. Computers were something comforting for them from a young age, fascinated when watching their father do his job at home, and it being one of the things they bonded with both of their parents over. By the time they were ten, they knew more things about programming than professionals in the field knew. Their withdrawal from public school helped them devote themself even more to this hobby, and alongside multiple other projects, she eventually completed the one she was most proud of, Alter Ego. Interested in her potential, she was scouted by Hope’s Peak- and, well, their time there’s a story of it’s own.