"Stop talking nonsense." "Stop being negative." "Promise me you won't give up." "I promise I'll see you again." "You'll never be alone."
Every footstep echoed in my head along with those words, but every time I got closer to where the other people were, those words were replaced by the screams and cries of desperation and fear. When I arrived, I was surprised to find there were more people than I imagined; there were about 20 of them. Only one thing crossed my mind: "Tank Top Protective... look what you accomplished." I stood on a tiny rock so I could explain what we were going to do. "Hello." But no one heard me. The people kept shouting. "Hello," I repeated, raising my voice. The children were crying; dust mingled with the air.
I took a deep breath, suppressed the trembling in my voice, and shouted with all the strength I had left. "Listen up!"
People turned to look. "Thank you," I managed to say; but before I could continue speaking, a man abruptly interrupted me. "Wait a minute!" "You... you're the boy who was with the hero, where is he?" Another young man, his face covered in dust and despair, raised his voice. "That's true, where is the supposed hero?" I didn't know what to do, and so, one by one, people began to talk and criticize; all I could hear were words like "liar," "useless," "coward," and, to make matters worse, the man who started all these attacks grabbed a rock and threw it right at my face. Unfortunately, while I was trying to calm the people down, the blow hit me in the eyebrow; I felt the burning, the heat of the blood rushing down, causing me to cover up. As I listened to people blaming me for not helping Tank Top get out alive, as I listened to their insults, I realized something: "Since when did I care about other people's bad opinions again?" or, even worse, "Or worse... since when do I feel bad about what other people say?"
FLASHBACK: 2 YEARS AGO
A message on my X account came from the official "One Peak Man" page. It was the announcement of the third season of One Punch Man. In a moment of emotion, I shared it in every group I was in. I guess it was a mistake. Within minutes, people started attacking the anime... and me too, just for having hope in a project that many already considered a joke. Some even nominated it for the "Worst Animation of the Year" award. But honestly, I never cared; I never paid attention to the mockery or insults they said. Those things they said were friends, eventually showed their true colors. It's one thing to play with them, but when things get more intense, that's when you discover who they really are. So I distanced myself. I stopped having friends. I wasn't like my brother; he always had an easy way of connecting with others, almost as if he were their natural leader. Imagining being alone was horrible; thinking that no one would come to save you only makes me hate myself more. He didn't want to be alone when he died. And yet, without knowing how, things started to change. I made new friends. We laughed, we teased each other, we went out to eat together. And now I'm here, and before I knew it, I had Marci, who's more than a friend; she became like a big sister to me. She coached me, looked out for me, gave me advice I didn't always understand, but that ended up making sense. Whether negative or positive, Marci taught me something I'll never forget: opinions—good or bad—always matter equally, but negative ones are only corrected by actions, not words. And now, looking back, I realize that was the point where everything changed... the day I stopped waiting for someone to save me and started becoming someone who could.
PRESENT:
When a rock was headed for my head, I stopped it with ease; It made people stop throwing them. "Listen!" I started toward the column blocking the exit, feeling the dust in my throat and the gazes on my back. "I don't give a damn what you think of me; you're perfectly within your rights to do so, because you're scared and afraid of dying." I reached the front of the column and turned to face them all. "But I won't allow you to talk like that about the hero who gave his life for all of you. He gave his life so you could be safe, free to go on, so you could be happy and live a long life," and with a smile. "And I'll take care of it and finish his work." I raise my arm, and my hand closes into a fist. "So let's get out of this place once and for all." —And with a direct hit, the column shattered into a thousand pieces, causing people to be shocked by what they just saw.
As the sunlight fell on their faces, people began to scream with happiness; parents hugged their children, some cried, others laughed, and little by little, everyone began to rise to the surface. The fresh air made them feel alive again. I watched them run and scream with joy, and suddenly I felt a small hand tug at my shirt. A little girlhow old was she, 7 or 8 looked straight at me, and when I saw her, her eyes were teary and she was sad too. "So the hero won't come out, right?" Hearing those words from a little girl would break anyone's heart, but I had to be an adult at that moment, so with a small smile, I knelt down and looked up at her. "She had to go. She didn't tell me when she'd be back, so she entrusted me with finishing the job and taking care of brave kids like you... " She took the card out of my shirt, and on the back was a sticker of a kitten, so I peeled it off and gave it to the girl...." She took the card out of my shirt, and on the back was a sticker of a kitten, so I peeled it off and gave it to the girl."Here, for being such a brave girl and protecting your mother; who knows, you might even become a hero too." The girl smiles and looks at me. "Then you'll be my hero, and so will you. Tell me your name?" I thought they'd never ask me something like that; at that moment I didn't know how to answer. "Me? You can call me, J." The girl gets happier, and then her mother takes her arm, and they begin to surface. The girl turns around as she walks and, with a smile and a wave, says goodbye. "See you later, hero, J." I really liked that line. "Hero, did you hear me, little brother? He called me hero." And when I started to climb out, just as I was leaving, some helicopters from The Heroes' Association arrived and began treating the wounded. It was already nightfall, and I was treated as well, but I refused to take off my clothes, so they only gave me a blanket. I heard what caused the destruction: a skinless giant with white, bone-like armor covering his enormous muscles. I also heard that he destroyed the entire D city along with its inhabitants, but was stopped by an unknown person. As I stood up to leave, the Tank Top Protective card fell, and I quickly picked it up, and I had an idea.
At the Hero Association, in an office lit by the flickering of screens, a receptionist, exhausted by the day's emergency response, heard the phone ring and quickly answered. "Hello? Good afternoon, who is it I have the pleasure of meeting with?" he asked, his voice somewhat tense.
On the other end, a calm, tired voice answered. "Yes, hello, I'd like to know the exact location of Makoto Isanage's residence."
The manager frowned. He typed quickly on his computer and noticed the name. "What? But... that's the Tank Top Protective card. Where is the hero? Did you steal his ID? I want it back now!"
There was silence. I could barely hear breathing on the other end of the line. "No," I replied in a faint voice. "He died."
The manager remained motionless for a few seconds, not knowing what to say. Finally, he calmed down and picked up the phone again. "I understand..." he said slowly, lowering his voice. "I'll send you her address in a moment." I sit down and breathe a sigh of relief. "Thank you," I said, and hung up the phone. The manager stood still in front of the screen, his gaze fixed on Makoto Isanage's name. Then, with a slow movement of the mouse, he opened her profile within the hero system and selected the option he never wanted to use.
NAME: MAKOTO (TANK TOP PROTECTIVE)
CLASS: A
RANK: 17
CURRENT STATUS: DECEASED
With this... that makes six heroes dead this week. He begins reviewing the attached reports. The recordings are blurry, distorted by interference and smoke. In each one, voices repeat themselves desperately; they said to send an S-class. He fast-forwards to the last video file. In the image, a being covered in black armor holding a massive sword. Its movements are so precise and cold that they seem impossible for a human being. There is no emotion in its gestures, not a trace of mercy. Only destruction. The manager sighs: "This job is killing me. Since when did this world become more... dangerous?" The question hangs in the air, unanswered. Outside, rain begins to fall on the Hero Association building.
The rain began to fall silently, first in small drops, then in a drizzle that soaked every piece of ruin that remained standing. "Wow... it's raining," I whispered. I slowly got up from the rubble, shook the dust off my clothes, and put on my hood; no one was there anymore. The city that had been as quiet as a normal day this morning was now a ghost town. The rain worsened, and all my clothes were starting to get wet. "I'd better go." I started walking toward the next station, which was in the other city, but that didn't matter to me; I always liked walking. ""I think I'll get some ramen on the way, yeah, and a green tea will do." He smiled calmly until he looked up at the sky. Cloudy. "I guess... I did change something, I think; maybe coming here was to change history for the better, or maybe I brought something worse." I close my eyes and relax. "No... I don't think so," I finally say, with a tired smile, and I walk again while it is a beautiful rainy night with a gorgeous full moon shining through the clouds.