I've always thought our village was a little like a forgotten pocket in someone's coat. Not torn or broken—just overlooked. Tucked away, soft and quiet, the kind of place you only find if you're already lost.
Kawamura Hamlet sits halfway up a mountain that doesn't even have a name. No train tracks nearby, no hero agency, not even a real doctor. We have chickens, wood stoves, and a river that freezes over in winter. Most maps don't list us. I think the only reason we haven't vanished entirely is because Old Hiroto still remembers how to write our name on letters.
Dogs bark, birds chirp, the flowers sway, dancing to a song only they can hear. There arn't many children, let alone any my age.
But I like it here. It's peaceful. The trees sing even when people don't.
I was born here. It's never exciting and the only drama that goes on is between old Hiroto and that old granny that lives further up the hill.
He still can't remember to stop throwing his dead cabbages into her yard. Mika says he's just doing that to mess with her, but I don't think so. I believe old Hiroto to be innocent of any such crimes.
Nothing interesting ever proceeds that, not that I can think of.
"Haha, very funny."
"Relax. He is just kidding."
A blonde man.
"He is right! You will get better in no time at all!"
"Maybe if-"
"Don't you dare. He is just a boy."
"Listen, M-"
Well, except for that.
Memories.
But they arn't mine, and I did not make them.
That part's still fuzzy. Sometimes I get dreams about a hospital room. There's light, and a voice that sounds like it's been crying, and someone smiling even though everything's ending. I think his name was—
No, I forgot it again.
Anyway, I'm Haruki Nara. I was never that person in the hospital room, and I never will be. I never met him, but I do hope he is doing better. I'm fifteen, and I smile a lot.
"Haruki! You gave away the bread again, didn't you?"
I flinched as I stepped back from the shed, wiping dust off my hands. Aimi—my mom—stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips, eyes narrowed like slits of judgmental warmth. Behind her, the kitchen smelled like rice and soy sauce.
"I, uh, only half the bread." I held up the remaining crust. "Kibi was hungry."
She sighed. Not a frustrated sigh, but the kind you let out when you've already accepted someone's hopelessness.
"Kibi is always hungry. That dog's going to bankrupt us before winter comes."
Kibi barked from the other side of the garden, tail wagging hard enough to rustle the nearby cabbage. He was a scruffy thing—half fur, half attitude—but he'd been mine since he was a pup. Found him on the edge of the woods one rainy morning, cold and shaking, and I just... picked him up. Like I'd done it before.
I don't remember when, but I know I've held a lot of people who were cold.
"I'll work double tomorrow," I offered, slipping the crust to Kibi behind my back.
"You'll work double today," she corrected.
"Triple?"
She didn't smile, but she didn't say no, either.
By noon, I'd already fetched water from the creek, repaired two of the chicken pens, and helped Souta and Ren wash their socks in the river. Souta, who's six, spent half the time splashing water at nothing. Ren, who's four, didn't wash anything at all and mostly sat beside me sucking on his thumb and humming a tune he made up.
"You're gonna leave," Souta said suddenly.
I looked up. "What?"
He was crouched on a flat rock, elbows on his knees, watching the river foam past like it owed him something.
"The village. You're gonna leave like Shun did."
I paused, hands buried in soapy fabric. The bubbles popped slowly, little sighs of nothing.
"I might," I said honestly. "I gotta go see the world, ya know. Try to get into UA."
"They're not going to accept you. You can barely read. And you're not strong enough to be a hero," he said matter-of-factly.
I laughed. "Thanks, Souta."
He shrugged. "But you smile a lot. Maybe that helps."
I ruffled his hair, and he made a face but didn't pull away. Even Ren giggled a little. I helped him up onto my lap and ran my fingers through his hair.
Back in the main village square—which is just three connected dirt roads and a well—I dropped off some tools by Old Hiroto's porch. He was dozing in a wooden chair, long legs stretched out, straw hat over his eyes. His dog, a three-legged mutt named Tako, blinked at me with mismatched eyes.
I left the tools where he could find them and turned to head back—when something caught my eye.
Old Hiroto's stack of papers. They always looked like junk. But this time, the wind had flipped the top layer and something bright shimmered underneath. I crouched down and carefully lifted it from the pile.
A magazine.
Old. Creased, and a bit water-damaged, but still legible. The title across the top said: "The Age of Heroes: A Decade with All Might."
My breath caught in my throat.
I sat right there in the dirt and opened it slowly, like it might vanish if I wasn't gentle. The first page was a full spread of All Might in his prime—grinning that impossible grin, blue and red costume radiant even in faded print.
I'd heard stories, of course. Bits and pieces passed around like fairy tales. The Symbol of Peace. The man who ended the dark age. But I'd never seen him.
His smile was different from mine. Mine was small. Habitual. His was big enough to carry nations.
I flipped the page.
There were other heroes, too—Endeavor, Miruko, Hawks. I studied each face, each pose. But then one photo made me freeze.
A boy. Blonde, sharp-eyed, arms crossed. His expression was carved from fire and thunder.
The wind gently ruffled my dull orange hair. I did not feel it.
I saw a hallway. A hospital bed.
"Haha, very funny-"
I blinked hard. The world snapped back. The page was still in my lap. The village was still around me. Tako had stood up and was staring at me with tilted ears.
"...Scared little boy," I murmured.
"What'd you say?"
I turned. Mika stood a few feet away, hands on her hips, eyebrow raised.
"I—nothing." I quickly shut the magazine. "I didn't say anything." I gave her my best innocent smile. The type that was big and full of teeth.
She stared at me for a long second, then rolled her eyes. "You're weird."
"Thank you! I get that a lot."
She walked over and plopped down beside me, wiping her nose with her sleeve. She was seventeen, loud, and absolutely terrifying when mad. But I liked her.
"You gonna read that, or are you gonna marry it?"
"I'm considering proposing," I said solemnly.
She snorted. "Figures."
I flipped the page back open, more careful this time. A feature on UA. Students in matching uniforms, a towering campus, smiling teachers.
I traced the image with my finger.
"Think they'd ever take someone like me? Even though I can't read and I'm not smart? Souta also called me weak." I chuckle a bit at that.
Mika was quiet for a moment. Then she said, "You've also never been to school before. And you can read, not very good, but enough. Though, isn't it too late anyway? I thought the new school year started already."
"Oh... the deadline passed?"
"...Pft-HAHAHAHAHA!" Mika bent over laughing and holding her stomach.
Why was she laughing? Was it something I said?
"Phew," She wiped an imaginary tear- was she actually crying?!
"They'd be lucky to have you."
I looked at her.
She didn't look at me.
That night, I couldn't sleep.
Kibi was curled at my feet, breathing deep and warm. The wind tapped at the windows. I stared at the ceiling, hazel eyes dark and murky in the dim light, and let my thoughts drift.
Sometimes, just sometimes, these memories make it feel like I've lived twice. Like there's a second shadow behind me, whispering memories I didn't make. They don't hurt, and they don't stay. They just pass by. Sometimes with laughter. A few times with blood. Mostly silent.
I wonder who he was. The man in the hospital. He is not me, but he does feel like it sometimes.
Sometimes, I get confused.
"Haha, very funny."
"Relax. He is just kiddin-"
I wonder if he got to say goodbye.
The next morning, I brought the magazine to the river.
They only take the best of the best,
Souta and Ren sat cross-legged beside me, their legs swinging off the rock.
"That guy's big," Souta said, pointing to All Might.
But I had this feeling.
"He's the biggest," I agreed.
"I wanna be like him," Ren said quietly.
I turned a page and smiled.
"Then we'd better get started."
I want to know,
Blonde man.