Spring haze wrapped around the pond.
The morning air flowing in from the Dragon God’s lake was still faintly cold, and Kopo, clutching a bag of supplies with both hands, hurried across the stone bridge at a jog.
“Today’s the day I finally make it to the plaza … whoa!”
His foot caught the edge of a paving stone, and the bag flew in an arc . Spring daikon and dried fish went tumbling spectacularly across the pavement.
A large shadow appeared silently beside him. It was Mocchi. His big hands moved fast, scooping up the daikon, the dried fish, every rolling item, and stuffing them back into the bag. It took less than thirty seconds.
“Thank— let me repay you with something…” Kopo started to say, but Mocchi just shook his head slowly.
“Don’t need it.”
“You should, though! Normally!”
“I dropped something heavy once too, a long time ago. Someone picked it up for me. So I’ve already paid it back.”
“…Who was it?”
“Don’t remember.”
Kopo took the bag back, chewing on those words for a while. Apparently, there existed, in this world, a debt with no one left to repay.
“So then, what am I supposed to do?”
“Give it to somebody else.”
That afternoon, Kopo went looking around the plaza for “a chance to give.” He found Hasshi napping in the shade and asked, “Need any help?” — “Don’t wake me up,” came the reply. He peeked into Spice’s workshop — “You’re in the way.” He tried to help Tacchi up a stone step — “It’s a necessary step. Say nothing.”
Kopo crouched down at the pond’s edge. His reflection on the water’s surface wavered , looking a bit pathetic . He wanted to give, but no one would take it. He thought this might be the heaviest thing he’d ever carried.
As evening began dyeing the plaza orange, a song drifted in from along the river. Keromi was searching for a sheet of music. A gust had blown it loose, and it went tumbling across the pavement.
Kopo found himself already running.
He picked up the sheet music, brushed off the sand, and held it out. Keromi’s eyes widened.
“Thank you! Let me repay you—”
“Don’t need it.”
The words came out of his mouth, and Kopo himself was a little surprised. Toward Keromi’s puzzled expression, he continued.
“…Give it to somebody else.”
Keromi blinked once, then broke into a soft smile. Her voice melted gently into the spring air.
By the weeping cherry tree, a top hat swayed quietly on the bench. A “Feh-feh” laugh rippled the pond’s surface, just slightly.
Margin note: The next morning, someone had tied a single flower to the bridge’s railing . It had no sender, and no recipient.
【Today’s Drop】
- Global Pay It Forward Day: Observed every April 28. An international commemorative day encouraging people not to return a kindness to the one who gave it, but to pass it on to someone else, spreading goodwill throughout the world. It was proposed in 2007 by Australian author Blake Beattie and is now observed in over 80 countries.
【Today’s Motif: April 28, 2026】#
Global Pay It Forward Day
Every April 28 marks this international commemorative day, calling on people to pass a kindness they’ve received not back to the giver, but forward to someone else — spreading a chain of goodwill worldwide. Over 80 countries currently take part, with this year’s goal set at 20 million acts of kindness.
Looking Back#
An episode in which Kopo, unable to shake off a debt of gratitude he couldn’t repay, spends the whole day wandering the town — and finally, clumsily, manages to pass it on to Keromi. In the scene where Mocchi describes an old kindness as “a debt with no one left to repay,” the true essence of paying it forward comes into view.
This is an English translation of “次の誰かへ”, part of Tales of Amencho Town (蛙鳴町奇譚).
