Yuuto woke up with a strange feeling.

  He lay still for a moment, staring at the ceiling. The room looked the same as always. Nothing had changed. Still, the feeling didn’t go away.

  He sat up and rubbed his face.

  “First time the dream felt so real,” he muttered.

  Saying it out loud didn’t help.

  He reached for his phone. The screen was already full of notifications. News. Messages. Clips being shared everywhere. That made him pause.

  He opened the news.

  “…reports are still coming in from across the country…”

  Yuuto turned the volume up.

  The screen showed different people. Different ages. Different cities. All of them talking about the same thing.

  They had seen something.

  Not just heard it - seen it.

  Some held up rough sketches. Others showed notebook pages, phone drawings, even quick sketches on napkins. None of them were identical, but they all felt the same.

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  A shape in the sky.

  A moment just before the asteroid fell.

  Lines that didn’t make sense.

  Something watching.

  And a voice.

  “…many describe it as a girl’s voice…”

  “…very quiet…”

  “…asking for help…”

  Yuuto’s grip on the phone tightened.

  That part made his stomach sink.

  Because that was exactly what he remembered.

  Not loud and not dramatic. Just one word, barely there.

  Help.

  The news kept playing. Experts compared drawings. Analysts talked about shared trauma. Some people laughed and called it imagination. Others looked genuinely shaken.

  Yuuto let out a slow breath.

  So it wasn’t just him.

  That should have scared him. Instead, it made the whole thing feel distant. If so many people saw it, then someone stronger would deal with it. Someone important. Someone who actually mattered.

  Yuuto wasn’t that person.

  The dream hadn’t returned. For him, or for most people, from what he could tell. One moment. One voice. Then nothing.

  Weird, sure.

  But the world had been weird ever since the asteroid.

  Yuuto got out of bed and pulled on a shirt. His grandfather would already be awake. There were always things to fix, things to carry, things that needed hands more than words.

  His phone buzzed.

  Mamoru:

  Yo, saw what’s on the news?

  Yuuto glanced back at the screen, typed nothing.

  Another message came in.

  Mamoru:

  Crazy stuff.

  Anyway, I found a job. Crazy, just in a different way.

  Yuuto sat down on the edge of the bed.

  Mamoru:

  Tough people.

  Pays good though.

  A pause.

  Then one more message.

  Mamoru:

  We could become local heroes or something.

  You never know.

  Either way, it’s good money.

  Yuuto huffed quietly.

  “Heroes…”

  He looked once more at the frozen images on the screen — the drawings, the confused faces, the sky just before impact.

  Someone out there had asked for help.

  Someone stronger would answer.

  Yuuto slipped his phone into his pocket and stood up.

  He had things to do.