The house was never loud.
Ayu remembered that clearly.
Mornings smelled like warm tea and soil from his father's clothes. His mother hummed while working, not because she was happy—but because silence made her uneasy. Evenings were quiet, broken only by the sound of dishes and distant news playing on an old television.
It wasn't perfect.
But it was home.
Ayu sat at the small table, scrolling through job offers on his phone. He had graduated. A future waited somewhere beyond this village, beyond these walls. His parents didn't say much, but their eyes always followed him—proud, worried, hopeful.
"You'll come back," his mother said softly, placing a cup near his hand.
Ayu smiled.
"Of course."
Outside, the sky darkened faster than it should have.
The television crackled.
"Breaking news. A high-risk villain operation is currently underway in Sector C. Citizens are advised to stay calm. Licensed heroes are handling the situation."
His father frowned.
"Sector C… that's close."
Before Ayu could respond, the ground trembled.
Not an earthquake.
Something heavier.
Something deliberate.
The windows rattled. A distant explosion echoed through the air, followed by cheers from the television broadcast. The reporter's voice was excited—almost relieved.
"The heroes have engaged. Collateral damage is expected, but justice will prevail."
Ayu stood.
Another blast.
Closer.
The lights flickered once… then died.
For a moment, there was only silence.
Then came the sound Ayu would never forget.
Screaming.
The wall shattered as if it were paper. Heat rushed in. Dust swallowed the room. Ayu felt himself thrown back, his head slamming against the floor.
He couldn't hear.
He couldn't see.
Only ringing.
Only pressure.
When the dust settled, the house was gone.
Not broken.
Gone.
Ayu dragged himself up, coughing, his vision blurred. Fire burned where walls once stood. The fields were scorched. Shapes moved in the smoke—figures in armor, glowing with power.
Heroes.
They stood tall, weapons drawn, staring at something far away. None of them looked down.
None of them noticed the boy on his knees.
"A mission success," one of them said.
"Villain neutralized."
Ayu crawled.
His hands found fabric.
Still.
Too still.
He screamed until his throat tore, but the heroes were already leaving, their capes flowing as cameras drones followed them into the sky.
The reporter's voice returned, calm and proud.
"Thanks to our heroes, the city is safe once again."
Ayu knelt in the ruins long after the fire died.
Justice had won.
And it had taken everything from him.