Silent Threads

At seventeen, Takumi Aizawa lived in a world of quiet. Once a lively kid, his voice had been stolen years ago by an incident with a middle school teacher-an event that left scars his father still blamed himself for not preventing. Since then, Takumi only spoke to Shouta and, on rare days, to Eri, the little girl his father had taken in and who now called Takumi her big brother. Their house sat on the edge of the city, a quiet refuge where Takumi spent his days studying through homeschool lessons and helping Aizawa with small chores, preferring the company of silence over the chaos of the outside world.

Shouta had adjusted his life around his son's boundaries. He worked shorter hours when he could, made sure Eri never asked too many questions, and always checked the locks twice before bed. He was a pro hero who could stare down villains without flinching, but the memory of that broken look on Takumi's twelve-year-old face still haunted him. Yet, even in the silence, there was healing-slow and fragile. Some nights, Shouta would find Takumi sitting on the porch, Eri asleep on his lap, and for the first time in years, the quiet didn't feel so heavy. It felt like peace.