12. Some Secrets Are Meant to be Kept

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14 years ago
For years after the death of his closest companion, Nana Shimura, Gran Torino would write letters to her.

They would vary, some were about his day or about a pattern in the stars that reminded him of her.

That or he would update her on the frozen snacks the market had finally restocked. He always bought all of their taikyaki.

Or, he would write about her son. And all his children.

The useless feeling he experienced that night was crippling to him. He had been so close to their house while the destruction was ensuing.

Dearest Nana,
I start each letter with that because I know you would have hated it. We always did love to tease each other, so it seems only fitting to continue it on.

I'm sorry, I started this letter on too light of a note. I have some horrible news to share.

I was on the way to your son's house, I wanted to check up on Kotaro again like you asked me too.

I had been worried about him, Nana, the boy changed after you left him. The screams I heard from the house was saddening, and that feeling only grew when I saw your grandson sit all alone outside.

Itching, crying, and itching some more.

I checked on them less and less after the first day I saw Kotaro throw out little Tenko. I knew there was nothing I could do for them, it wouldn't be right for me to intervene after all the hatred for heroes your abandonment caused him.

Not that I would call myself a hero, especially not after this night.

I had gotten caught up at the market on my way over. Thinking back, I probably allowed myself to get swayed by the treats the store was showcasing.

I didn't want to go, didn't want to see whatever horrors were ensuing.

It had been closer to a year since the last time I had come around.

The only reason I was now, was because I wanted to check in on your littlest granddaughter.

Kotaro was good to his girls, I knew that from how healthily his Hana had grown. I never figured out why Tenko was so different.

When I finally got to the house, it was in shambles.

I arrived almost simultaneously with the police, there were neighbors going frantic.

They hadn't seen any villain, none enter nor leave.

I was inside the remains of the house quicker than I had ever moved before.

There was blood everywhere, though I won't go into detail about the gruesome remains.

I don't know what I was looking for. I knew I should have left the inspection of the shambles of the house to the police—but something or someone was pulling me inside.

I just knew that there was something in there for me to find.

And I was right.

In a darker corner of the house with the most wall remaining, I saw the flash of a shadow dart away. Before I could even consider chasing after it, the cries of a child stopped me.

There, with most of her room in shambles, a little girl stood with her tiny hands gripping the railing of her crib.

Wailing, reaching out in the direction of the trees that she shouldn't have been able to see from her room.

The One Who Lived // Izuku MidoriyaWhere stories live. Discover now