As many little girls tend to be, Nagi was afraid of the dark. Many times, she asked her mother to leave the hallway light on at night to quell her fears.

"Don't be silly," Nagi's mother would reply, absently brushing her daughter's hair away from her face with one hand while massaging her temples with the other. "It's all dark when you close your eyes, anyway, so just go to sleep, okay?"

So Nagi shivered under her warm blankets, her little girl imagination sometimes letting her get carried off by creepy, crawly things hiding in the particularly dark corners of her room and skeletal hands from under her bed.

Chrome felt guilty now, thinking back on those days. Compared to that cold and pitch-colored place Mukuro-sama spoke to her from, night no longer seemed black, merely shades of gray.