Prologue – Memory Echoes
Souta is running through a blizzard. Snow swirls around him in a frenzied dance while his bare feet slap against the freezing ground. Crimson streaks, unmistakable and raw, mark his skin—a testament to battles fought on a terrain where boyhood and something darker intertwined. In his ragged breath, a voice echoes, not like a memory but like a scar etched into time:
> "You're not allowed to cry. You're not allowed to hope. You were made to be used."
That voice is not simply a whisper of past torment—it's an instruction from a life he can barely recall. Gasping, Souta suddenly awakens in the quiet darkness, his heart hammering not with physical pain but with the crushing weight of recognition. His mind, as if unlocking a long-forgotten chamber, now knows the name: Kagami Rei. He was once that broken boy—a tool created to serve, a child molded by cruelty—until he shattered under the pressure and made a wish so audacious that the universe granted him a rebirth. But the old self, that child of despair, still lingers in the corners of his mind.
Scene 1 – Breakfast Conversations
Morning light spills into the noisy villa kitchen where laughter and the clattering of utensils mingle with the warmth of a family trying to find normalcy. Ruby, with an ease that belies the morning rush, skillfully chops bright citrus and apples with a well-worn plastic knife. Aqua, always a morning grump, flips pancakes on a sizzling pan while Ai hums along to an old tune that seems to carry memories of gentler days.
Souta sits at the table, quieter than usual. His eyes wander over the familiar faces, but his mind drifts to those long-forgotten yet persistent echoes of his former life. Happy, his faithful little bear-real companion, nestles beside him and asks in a hushed, tender murmur, "You dreamed again, didn't you?"
Souta nods, his gaze distant as if he can still see the ghostly figure of Kagami Rei darting between fragments of snow and memories. Ai, ever the perceptive mother, tilts her head and asks softly, "Bad dream?"
"Not bad," Souta replies, voice barely above a whisper. "Just… old."
Ai gently sweeps stray strands of his hair behind his ear, her touch a silent promise of comfort. "Whatever it was, it's not stronger than who you are now," she assures him. Yet, deep within his core, Souta cannot shake the nagging certainty that Rei's presence is not confined to his dreams—a watching, judging shadow that may one day resurface.
Scene 2 – School: The New Transfer
A week later, the triplets return to a world that should be familiar. The hallways at school buzz with the residual excitement of the recent festival; rumors float in the corridors, and the pressure of looming tests slackens the bright, chaotic energy of youth. Everything seems normal—until a teacher steps forward with news that pierces the humdrum of everyday life.
"Everyone, this is our new transfer student from Hokkaido—" the teacher announces with practiced cheer, "Yamato Rei."
At that moment, Souta feels his stomach twist into knots. There, stepping into the light of the classroom, is the silver-eyed boy from the lake—the one whose presence seems both alien and achingly familiar. Clad in a crisp uniform that looks too perfect, he carries a slim, almost weightless bag that hints at nothing solid.
With a polished smile that seems rehearsed yet sincere, Yamato says, "I look forward to learning together."
A ripple of murmurs follows him, and from three rows back, Reina watches with an expression that betrays no surprise—her eyes, however, flicker with an unspoken message. Under the desk, Aqua's fingers fly over his phone. "Keep your eyes on both of them. Don't let them near Souta alone," he texts Ruby, who in turn exchanges a wary glance with him.
Souta finds himself unable to speak; he can only stare at Miyamoto Yamato. Every detail about the boy—his unguarded posture, his steady gaze—seems designed to remind him of a past he thought he had left behind. Yamato isn't hiding anything. Instead, he appears to be inviting Souta to unlock memories that he'd wished to forget.
Scene 3 – Training in Secret
Night descends and the villa becomes a haven of hush and introspection. On the familiar, weathered dock by the lake, Souta stands alone again, his bare feet pressed against the wooden planks. Happy perches nearby, eyes wide and filled with anxious energy as if aware of the unspoken significance of this midnight vigil.
"You're going to try again, aren't you?" Happy asks quietly, almost a plea.
Closing his eyes, Souta inhales slowly, summoning the courage that has grown alongside his inner scars. "I have to," he murmurs. "If I'm going to protect everyone… even those I'm afraid of, I need to stop being scared of myself."
He reaches out with trembling determination. Time seems to slow. The cool air around him thickens as if acknowledging his inner transformation. With a deliberate gesture, he begins to reshape the world around him. The stars bend closer, as though lowered just for his touch. A gentle warmth emanates from his breath, coaxing the lake to shimmer without boiling. In an almost sacred trance, he constructs a translucent glass globe of space around the dock—a realm of stability where only his choices reign.
Happy's eyes widen in awe. "You're not just using your power anymore. You're understanding it."
Droplets of sweat escape along Souta's face as he strains to merge his inner dualities. "I'm not Rei," he declares with quiet conviction, "but I won't abandon him either. I'll carry both names—and make sure no one is ever used again."
Glancing meaningfully at Happy, he adds, "And next time Reina attacks, or Yamato tests me… I'll protect them all. Even her."
Scene 4 – Yamato's First Move
The next day at school, the atmosphere shifts in subtle yet undeniable ways. Yamato begins to integrate himself into every facet of campus life. He joins the literature club, his words flowing with poetic precision. Meanwhile, Reina, ever the enigma, takes to mentoring Ruby in crafting a "new solo song with emotional weight," her advice laced with hints of something deeper. Aqua catches these secretive conversations behind the gym, his silent gaze full of questions.
In class, Yamato makes a point of sitting closer and closer to Souta until one day, during a quiet lunch, the inevitable conversation unfolds.
"You're strong," Yamato observes with a curious mix of admiration and challenge. "Stronger than me. But you still act like a child."
A small smile tugs at Souta's lips. "Because I like being a child," he replies, his tone playful yet laced with a hint of sorrow.
"But what if that child is forced to grow up again?" Yamato presses softly, his eyes locked onto Souta's with an intensity that hints at shared secrets.
Souta meets his gaze fully, the vulnerability in his eyes belying a cautious hope: "Then I'll grow. But on my own terms."
Final Scene – The Fracture Test
Late one night, when the villa is wrapped in stillness and the only sound is the distant echo of a restless wind, the very foundations of their refuge begin to tremble. Walls groan and delicate cracks snake along their surfaces. Outside, the stars flicker erratically, as if uncertain of their place in the sky. Ai is the first to wake, her heart pounding as she clutches the doorframe for support.
In the living room, amidst the chaos, Yamato stands alone. His eyes glow unnaturally, his features stripped of their usual poise by a blank, haunted expression. "I wanted to see if you'd intervene before it collapsed," he says, voice eerily calm, as if testing the boundaries of fate.
Barefoot and resolute, Souta strides into the room. There is no fear in his movement; instead, it is a quiet defiance against the chaos threatening to shatter everything he holds dear. "You're not doing this because you want to win," he says steadily, his voice resonating with an empathy born of his own suffering. "You're doing this because you want to lose. You want someone to stop you before you become like them."
For a moment, Yamato's hands tremble, his composure cracking under the weight of guilt and regret. "Then... stop me," he finally whispers.
Souta inhales deeply, summoning the full might of his self-control. In that definitive moment, he extends his hand and rewrites the very space of the villa. Every crack seals, the trembling of time halts, and the fickle stars regain their steadiness. Reality, fragile as it might be, bends obediently to his will.
As the dust of the moment settles, Yamato collapses to his knees. In his near-silent awe, he manages to murmur, "You... really mastered it."
Souta steps forward, closing the distance with a quiet tenderness that belies the power in his voice, and wraps Yamato in an embrace. "You don't have to destroy anything to be loved," he assures him softly, a promise echoing through the fragile new reality he's built.
In these moments—from the bitter cold that carries lost memories to the quiet determination of reforming a shattered world—Souta grapples with the remnants of a past that still haunts him and the promise of a future he must forge for those he loves. His strength lies not only in the power he wields, but in the choice to use it for compassion rather than control. His life, a constant interplay between remnants of pain and the blossoming hope of love, is a testament to the fact that even amidst unimaginable power, the human heart remains delicate—and worth protecting.