A Fleeting Sense of Security

I looked up again, surprised. "Of course?" I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper. My eyes searched my parents' faces, expecting some hint of doubt or uncertainty. But they just smiled and nodded, their expressions reassuring. "He's fine, kiddo," Mother said, her voice soft and soothing. "The police will take care of him." Father chimed in, "We told everything to the police. They know he's there now. They'll find him and take him back to his family, and he'll be happy. The heroes will help him. Alright, wonderchild?" He ruffled my hair, and I giggled slightly, trying to play along. But inside, I deflated. For a second, I had actually thought that my parents somehow managed to change the anime's plot, that they had some secret power to alter the course of events. But they were just saying that to reassure me, to make me feel safe and secure. I didn't blame them, of course. I was only two; they couldn't explain to me how society worked, how life was unfair sometimes. They just wanted me to be happy and carefree and sleep peacefully at night. As my parents kissed me goodnight and turned off the lights, I lay in bed, wide awake. I couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that had settled in my stomach. I thought about the kid, Shigaraki, and what his life was like. Was he really going to be okay? Or was he just another victim of a world that seemed determined to crush him? As I lay there, I couldn't help but think about the vast distance between my cozy bed and Shigaraki's hard, cold ground. I pictured him laying there, shivering in the darkness, his mind wandering to memories he would rather leave buried in the past. And then, my thoughts drifted back to the beaming smile of a child, with eyes much too wise for her age. The image of that little girl, with her innocent smile and sparkling eyes, haunted me. I couldn't shake off the feeling that our lives were connected in ways I couldn't understand. The darkness outside seemed to press in around me, and I felt a chill run down my spine. I lay there, awake and alert, my mind racing with thoughts of Shigaraki and the little girl. The night seemed to stretch out before me, endless and oppressive. At miles of distance, laying on hard, cold ground without a blanket to keep him warm, another kid spent the night trembling in restless sleep. Sometimes his mind wandered, as it always did, to memories he would rather left buried in the past. But for the first time, the most prominent belongs to that very day: the beaming smile of a child, with eyes much too wise for her age.