"You say you love them. But would you still love them… if they stopped loving you?"— The Voice
Scene 1: The Stars Flicker
Late at night in Tokyo, the glitter of city lights creates a shimmering mirror on the rain-washed streets below, yet above—even as the urban glow bathes the skyline—the stars twist and flicker like dying bulbs. They seem to struggle against an unseen force, as if something ancient and watchful is trying to reclaim them.
At the Hoshino family home, Souta stands alone at the window, his silhouette etched against the restless night. Perched on his shoulder is Happy, whose warm eyes are full of unspoken worries. In the quiet, the world outside is a mix of chaos and beauty—a city of neon pulses and whispered secrets—while inside, Souta's clenched fists betray an inner tension.
"It's subtle," Happy whispers, tilting his head. "But it's here."
Souta's voice is rough with unresolved emotion: "Yeah. It feels like… something's watching us."
From the living room, Ruby stirs on the couch. "Souta? What are you doing up?" she asks gently, rubbing sleep from her eyes.
Forcing a smile, he replies, "Just thinking."
Ruby's laugh is half-teasing, half-reproachful. "You always think too much," she chides. Then, stepping quietly from where she sat, she wraps her arms around him. "Let your big sister worry for once, okay?" she murmurs, soft and protective.
"But you're smaller than me," Souta teases, a playful glimmer in his eyes even as his gaze remains fixed on the uncertain sky above.
"Emotionally!" Ruby snaps, thumping his shoulder, and both erupt in gentle laughter. Yet, even amid the warmth of sibling closeness, Souta's eyes never leave the stars—they still flicker with a strange, untold promise that something from beyond is both haunting and watching.
Scene 2: School the Next Morning – Something's Off
The next morning at Yoto High, life resumes its routine. Classrooms buzz with chatter, teachers recite lessons, and the corridors echo with familiar footsteps. But today there is a disquiet that no one can quite ignore.
Reina glances over toward Souta's desk and notices it's empty. "He's late," she murmurs, her tone laced with a concern she tries to hide.
Yamato shrugs with a wry smile. "He's a god-boy. Maybe he's bending space to avoid math class," he jests, though his tone isn't entirely light.
"That's not like him," Reina replies, her voice soft with genuine worry.
Just then, the windows in the classroom shudder as though hit by an unseen force. The overhead lights flicker, and a sudden, cold wind sweeps through the room—indoors—drawing gasps from the students. Ruby stands abruptly, her eyes wide. "Something's wrong," she says, her voice slicing through the confused murmurs.
In a heartbeat, every movement in the room freezes. Teachers, students, even Yamato and Reina are locked in place, time itself holding a breath. Only the flicker of Aqua's phone screen and a stray tap on it keep moving until the display comes to life with one chilling word:
"TEST."
Scene 3: Souta's Inner Battle
Souta isn't late at all. He is trapped in a suspended dimension—a vast, empty black space that he never meant to create. It is a realm of echoes: soft and distorted remnants of Ai's laughter, Ruby's playful teasing, Aqua's quiet sarcasm, Reina's gentle hums, and Happy's high-pitched squeaks. All of these voices are warped, their familiar tones twisted by raw, unfiltered doubt.
From the darkness, an unseen voice speaks: "You turned your back on control. You want to protect instead."
Souta's reply is immediate, sincere, "Yes." But then the voice challenges further, "Then tell me—can you protect their love for you when you stop controlling how they feel? When they stop needing you?"
At the sound of that question, Souta's heart sinks. He murmurs, almost to himself, "I don't want to be needed. I just want them to be safe."
A cold, mocking laugh ripples through the void. "What if their safety means they forget you? What if your power makes them outgrow you?"
From the abyss, faint illusions begin to surface—haunting visions that pierce his very soul:
Ruby, laughing with a friend she barely knows, whispering, "Souta's gotten weird lately."
Aqua, confiding to a classmate, "He's too much. It's like he wants to be everyone's hero. I don't know if I can trust him anymore."
Reina, solitary in a dark corner, crying to herself, "Why did I ever let him in?"
And Ai, whose distant words float away: "You're not my son anymore."
Souta trembles, the weight of these visions almost breaking him. Then, as if hope has taken a tangible shape, a small hand—warm and familiar—grabs his. It's Happy. In that moment, Happy's gentle voice cuts through the torment: "You told me… you wanted to protect without control. Then this is your final lesson."
Souta wipes away his tears and takes a shaky breath. His answer rings clear among the darkness, "I'll love them even if they don't need me. Even if they forget me. That's what makes it real." With renewed resolve, he slowly rises, eyes clearing as he declares, "Let the gods come. Let reality bend. I'll stand for them without chains."
And suddenly, the oppressive void shatters.
Scene 4: Back to Reality
Back in the classroom, time resumes as if impatiently overdue. The frozen scene dissolves. Students blink and stretch; a low murmur of conversation replaces the eerie silence. Ruby gasps, "Where were you?!" as all eyes turn toward the doorway.
Souta appears in the doorway, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. "Sorry I'm late. Took the long way through someone else's reality," he jokes, trying to cloak the weight of what he has endured.
Aqua arches an eyebrow and quips, "Normal people just say 'I overslept.'" A brief laugh ripples through the class, and Souta grins as he takes his seat.
But only Reina, seated near him, notices the tremor in his hand and the bittersweet smile that never quite reaches his eyes—a quiet testimony to the storm he has just weathered.
Scene 5: After School – One More Step Forward
That evening, when the day's chaos has finally quieted, Souta finds solace on a balcony, hidden from the prying lights of Tokyo. Seated beside him is Happy, a faithful companion, as the cool night wraps them in its embrace. Souta pulls out a well-worn notebook and begins to write, his handwriting carrying more than words—the weight of every silent vow.
He writes: > "I won't be their god. I'll be their sky. Always above, always there—never holding them down."
Happy's small voice breaks the silence. "The voice—it's not gone," he observes softly.
Souta exhales slowly, his gaze fixed on the vast expanse of sky. "I know," he replies, "but I passed its first test."
Quietly, Happy asks, "You think more are coming?"
Souta closes the notebook with a determined snap. "No. I know they are." His eyes shine in the darkness—not with fear, but with the fragile promise of resilience.
In that silent pact between boy and bear, Souta cements yet another step forward in his journey. Despite the echoing questions of control and the burden of power, his heart chooses love over domination. And beneath the ever-watching stars, he silently vows to protect those he cherishes—even if that means standing unshaken against the chaos of the cosmos.