"Even the softest hearts can turn sharp when their memories are stolen."— Happy
Scene 1: Nighttime at the Hoshino House
The Hoshino house lay bathed in moonlight, the soft glow filtering through thin curtains, stretching shadows across quiet rooms. The world had stilled—no voices, no movement, just the faint hum of the universe pressing against the silence.
Souta lay curled under his blanket, his breath even, his body heavy with fatigue—but his mind? Awake. Listening. Watching.
Happy rested in his arms, his fabric worn from years of quiet comfort, his stitched smile frozen in place. Outside the window, stars flickered like distant memories.
But then—
A whisper.
"Souta."
A pulse of awareness shot through him. He opened his golden eyes, scanning the room.
"Did you feel that?"
Souta exhaled slowly. His fingers tightened around Happy's tiny frame.
"...Yeah." His voice was quiet, measured. "Someone tried to rewrite you again."
Happy's small paw twitched, an unnatural ripple running through his seams.
"This time… it felt sharp. Personal."
Souta sat up, his expression darkening, the warmth of sleep evaporating. His muscles tensed, preparing—not physically, but emotionally.
"Souma," he murmured.
Scene 2: Shadows in the Network
Deep within the sealed corridors of Souta's subconscious—where fractured pieces of reality lay untouched—a disturbance wriggled in the dark.
A splinter.
A thread of corrupted narrative data, weaving itself into the structure of memory like an insidious whisper. A virus of thought, not made of code or curse, but belief.
Souma had breached the walls—not through force, but through doubt.
Through a single idea:
"Happy is not yours. He chose me now."
The words seeped into the foundation, curling around the edges of existence like creeping ivy, pulling at the fabric of what was true.
And just like that—the unraveling began.
Scene 3: Happy's Dissonance
In the waking world, Happy… changed.
His usual warmth dulled. His voice, once brimming with childlike wonder, felt muted. His movements slowed, heavy, uncertain.
But it was his eyes—those stitched, unblinking eyes—that looked different. Less like a toy, more like something lost.
Ruby noticed first.
"Souta…" She hesitated, watching closely. "He's not blinking. Not reacting."
Souta's throat tightened.
"He's alive," he admitted. "Just... conflicted."
Aqua stepped forward, arms crossed. "Then anchor him again."
Souta exhaled through his nose. "I will."
Aqua's eyes narrowed. "And if he chooses Souma?"
Souta smiled softly, bittersweet.
"Then I'll thank him for the memories… and remove the virus without harming the heart it infected."
Scene 4: The Test of Loyalty
That night, a shift came.
Happy moved—slowly, deliberately—standing on his stubby legs. His gaze locked onto Souta, trembling, uncertain, almost afraid.
Then—words.
"Would you still love me… if I hated you?"
Souta's breath hitched.
For a moment, he didn't speak.
Then, without hesitation, he knelt, his hands gentle but firm as he pulled Happy close, pressing their foreheads together.
"Even if you tore me apart," Souta whispered, voice steady, unwavering, "I'd love you to the last thread."
Happy trembled. "Then why do I feel… so full of doubt?"
Souta closed his eyes, centering himself.
"Because someone's trying to overwrite your soul." His voice was warm, grounding. "Let me help you remember your true heart."
Scene 5: Entering Happy's Soul
Souta placed two fingers on Happy's chest—right over the space where a heartbeat should be.
A pulse of energy. A shift of perception.
Then—he was inside.
Happy's soul field was small, familiar, warm. A space filled with soft echoes of memory—the whispered stories before sleep, the comfort of arms around fabric, the silent witness to tear-stained nights where Happy was the only one who heard Souta cry.
And yet—
In the farthest corner, a cracked mirror loomed.
Inside it—Souma's face. A cruel, knowing smile stretched across his reflection.
"You're fighting a war you've already lost," Souma mused from within the mirror. His voice dripped with certainty. "Your loved ones will always suffer. Why not let Happy grow beyond you?"
Souta didn't flinch. Didn't react. He only breathed evenly, grounding himself in the space.
"He doesn't need to 'grow beyond' me," Souta replied, his voice calm, unshaken. "He already is beyond me. That's why he has the right to choose."
He turned to Happy.
"I won't force you." His words were deliberate, careful. "But if you want to stay with me… reach out."
Happy stood frozen.
His threads quivered.
Then—slowly, hesitantly—he walked toward Souta.
Reached out.
And hugged his leg.
"You're my brother," Happy whispered. "I choose you."
A sharp crack echoed. The mirror fractured—Souma's image twisted, warped, and collapsed into the abyss.
Scene 6: School the Next Morning
Life outside the conflict remained untouched, deceptively normal.
Reina eyed Souta carefully. "Did something happen? You look tired."
Souta exhaled, stretching his arms. "I almost lost my best friend."
A pause.
"But he came back."
Ruby smirked, nudging him. "That wouldn't happen if you didn't name a bear Happy."
From inside Souta's bag, a chirp.
"Hey. That's Happy-san to you."
Reina blinked, staring. "Did… the bear just talk?"
Aqua coughed. "Did she just now notice?"
Scene 7: Souma Retreats… For Now
Across the city, in the dim haze of an unlit apartment, Souma stood before a fractured mirror.
His reflection stared back—twisted with frustration, quiet fury simmering beneath his skin.
"So that's how strong their bond is."
His smile returned—slow, calculating.
"Fine. I'll stop trying to take." He exhaled, fingers grazing an old childhood notebook—Ai's, filled with stories she had written when she was young.
"Instead, I'll make something stronger. Something even the gods can't protect."
He flipped open a yellowed page, running his fingers over a carefully penned story.
"And I'll rewrite her dreams—until even love breaks."