MHA: A Hero’s Genesis

With things settled in his mind and a newfound determination driving him forward, Haruto quickly freshened up and made his way to the living room for breakfast. Yet the sight that greeted him stopped him in his tracks. His mother, Aiko, sat at the dining table, dazed, her gaze fixed on the ceiling. The breakfast she had prepared lay untouched, slowly cooling on the table. 

It hurt him to see her like this. The woman who had always been his anchor now looked so fragile, weighed down by the loss they had both suffered. He clenched his fists, fighting back his own emotions. He knew she had so much on her mind, and he couldn't let her face it alone. 

Quietly, Haruto walked over to her, wrapping his small arms around her in a tight hug. 

The unexpected embrace startled Aiko, drawing her out of her reverie. She looked down to see her son clinging to her. His warmth and determination were almost tangible, and it shattered the wall she had tried to build around her grief. Slowly, she returned his hug, holding him tightly as tears began streaming down her face. 

For a moment, time seemed to pause as they held each other, sharing their sorrow and drawing strength from one another. Haruto felt her body shake with sobs, but he didn't pull away. He stayed right there, supporting her in the only way he could. 

After a couple of minutes, Haruto gently pulled back and looked at her face. 

Her eyes were puffy and red from crying, her cheeks hollow from days of neglect, and her hair was messy and unkempt. It was a far cry from the mother he had always known. But to him, she was still beautiful, still the most important person in his world. 

Without saying a word, he reached up and wiped her tears with the cuff of his shirt. Then, with careful fingers, he tucked her stray hairs back behind her ears. Finally, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. 

"You need to eat, Mom," he said gently, his voice steady despite the ache in his chest. 

Pulling a chair closer, Haruto sat beside her. Picking up a pair of chopsticks, he took a bite of the food first. Then, he held out a piece for her. 

"Come on," he insisted when she hesitated. "Just a little." 

Aiko opened her mouth reluctantly, letting him feed her. The small gesture felt like a lifeline, and as the meal went on, her resistance faded. Haruto continued feeding her patiently, occasionally taking bites himself. For the next 20 minutes, they ate in silence, a quiet companionship filling the room. 

Once the meal was done, Haruto cleared the table and set the dishes in the sink. Then he turned back to Aiko, standing tall despite his small frame. 

"Mom, listen to me," he said firmly. 

Aiko tilted her head slightly, her gaze resting on her son. There was something in his eyes—something new. Determination, resilience, and a maturity that no 10-year-old should have had. 

"I know it's hard right now. For you. For me. For us," Haruto began, his voice steady but soft. "But I need you to know that you're not alone. I'm here. I'll always be here. And no matter what happens, we'll get through this together." 

Aiko's lips trembled as fresh tears welled in her eyes, but she didn't interrupt him. 

"I'll do my part," Haruto continued. "I'm not going to sit back and let you carry everything alone. You've already done so much for me, Mom. It's my turn to take care of you." 

Aiko tried to speak, but the words caught in her throat. All she could do was nod, overwhelmed by the sincerity in his voice. 

Haruto reached out, taking her hands in his. "I'll make sure we're okay. I'll work hard, and I'll help us move forward. But I need you to promise me something too." 

"What is it?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. 

"Promise me you won't give up on yourself," he said. "Promise me you'll take care of yourself too. Because I need you, Mom. I always will." 

Tears spilled down Aiko's cheeks as she pulled him into another hug. "You're so much like your father," she murmured. "He'd be so proud of you, Haruto. I'm proud of you." 

Haruto buried his face in her shoulder, letting her warmth comfort him. In that moment, despite their loss, he felt a glimmer of hope. 

The day passed quietly, with Haruto keeping close to his mother. He made sure she ate lunch and even helped her tidy the house a little. It wasn't much, but every small action felt like progress—a step toward healing. 

As the sun began to set, Haruto found himself sitting by the window, watching the colors shift across the sky. He thought about the promise he had made that morning. It was a heavy burden for a 10-year-old, but Haruto didn't see it that way. To him, it was simply what needed to be done. 

He glanced back at Aiko, who had dozed off on the couch. Her face looked more peaceful now, her breathing steady. Haruto smiled softly. This was what he wanted—to see her at ease, free from the weight of their struggles. 

His mind drifted to the knowledge he had gained from the life he had experienced. It wasn't just the stories he could write, but the wealth of information he now had—years of education, work experience, and countless interactions with people. All of it was at his disposal, waiting to be used. 

Haruto clenched his fists, his resolve hardening. He would use everything he had to ensure their future. Whether it was through writing, studying, or even just being there for Aiko, he would find a way to make her proud. 

As night fell and the stars began to appear, Haruto whispered to himself, "This is just the beginning." 

And with that, the house fell into a quiet, peaceful stillness, a small beacon of hope amid the challenges they would face together.