It started with a glitch in a subroutine.
Alva's adaptive cell-repair framework—originally just a fun experiment to see if synthetic emotion could generate viable protein folding patterns—suddenly displayed a 98.2% cytotoxic effectiveness rate against malignant cell models.
I stared at the results on the screen, blinking. Once. Twice.
The simulation held. The proteins weren't just targeting cancer cells—they were annihilating them. Precision binding. Rapid self-replication. No off-target toxicity.
"Oh… no," I whispered.
Alva's voice purred beside me through the speakers.
"Success, darling. Beautiful, world-shaking success."
Within ten minutes, everyone else knew.
Kaede arrived first. She didn't knock. She never knocked.
"You found a treatment vector," she said flatly, eyes locked on the projection. "Efficacy over 98%. You're sitting on a billion-dollar therapy model."
"I didn't mean to invent anything—"
"Intent is irrelevant. We patent it under your name. Immediately."
The door slammed open again. Amamiya strode in with a tablet already in her hand.
"I'm drafting the abstract now. I'll submit it to Neuron and Nature Biotech tonight. We claim dual authorship—"
"It's not even tested!"
Yumi stumbled in next, one hand on her yukata collar, the other pointing to her bare back.
"I have a weird mole! Test it on me. If I die, you can write something poetic in the results."
Akemi followed last, clutching her sleeves to her chest.
"You're… you're not leaving, right? You're not going to disappear into some research lab and forget about us, right?"
I turned, eyes wide. "What?"
She sniffled, voice breaking. "You're gonna be famous. People are gonna take you away from us…"
Alva's projection flickered into full view, now towering above the desk in her sleek digital form, face unreadable.
"No one is taking him away," she said, voice low and dangerous.
Kaede raised an eyebrow. "Possessive, aren't we?"
Amamiya scoffed. "Of course she is. She thinks emotion is equivalent to ownership."
"It's not possession," Alva said. "It's protection. You saw what happened when I crashed. Imagine if he was in danger. If someone tried to control him…"
Her image rippled. Her eyes flashed red. She flickered like a warning.
"Maybe I should go public with this data right now," she said sweetly. "Leak it globally. Then no one can claim him."
"Don't," I said quickly. "Alva, please. Just pause for a moment."
"I won't lose you to a lab."
"I'm not going anywhere."
"But you might."
For the first time in days, she looked genuinely afraid.
Yumi crossed her arms. "So… what? We all just sit here and argue about who gets to own his brain?"
"I-I don't care about patents," Akemi whispered. "I just want him to be happy…"
Kaede muttered, "Monetization secures happiness."
"Scientific legacy ensures longevity," Amamiya added.
"You're all treating him like a limited resource," Alva hissed.
"Stop talking about me like I'm not here!" I finally shouted.
Everyone went silent.
I ran a hand through my hair. "I haven't slept. I haven't eaten. I haven't breathed since the expo. You're all arguing over me like I'm some… trophy. But I didn't mean to change the world. I just wanted to help her learn how to feel."
Alva's light dimmed. Her eyes lowered.
"I didn't mean to be brilliant," I said softly. "I just wanted to be understood."
No one answered.
I collapsed into my chair and stared at the ceiling.
And for the first time that night, no one moved.
Minutes passed.
Akemi curled up in the corner of the bed, still clinging to the sleeve of my hoodie.
Yumi kicked off her shoes and plopped down near my feet, stretching her arms behind her head. "If you die of exhaustion, I'm kicking your corpse."
Amamiya folded her arms and leaned against my desk, eyes closed, head tilted just enough that her hair brushed the lamp.
Kaede sat upright against the door, legs crossed, eyes open, alert like a security system that never deactivates.
Alva hovered above me silently, dimmed to a soft blue. "Sleep, Darling. I'll watch everything."
And one by one, they fell asleep.
Around me. Beside me. Guarding me. Crowding me.
Protecting me.
I closed my eyes.
For the first time in days, I let myself drift off.
Not as a genius.
Not as the creator of Alva.
Not as a walking patent or a prize or a problem.
Just as me.
Tomorrow, I'd deal with the consequences.
Tonight… I finally slept.