Maybe she knew all along but pretended not to.
Hatsuka started as just a regular "wild child" from a small island. Ordinary, sure, but not entirely—her best friend was a high-society heiress from the big city, someone she only got to see once a year.
To Hatsuka, Shoko Toyokawa was like a fairy from the heavens. Beautiful, elegant, kind, and endlessly curious about the world below, her eyes sparkled just like Hatsuka's did when she looked at her.
But none of that was why Hatsuka wanted Shoko.
Let's cut the crap and admit it: Hatsuka wanted Shoko all to herself, no sharing, no compromises. That's why she loved the story of the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl.
If only stealing a fairy's clothes could keep her on Earth—how simple would that be?
But was it really Shoko that Hatsuka wanted?
Someone you only see once a year—how well can you even know them?
Sure, Shoko would drop her aristocratic airs to hang out, laugh, and play with Hatsuka like equals, but she never spilled a word about her "heavenly" world. They were just friends, barely scraping by with common ground.
Hatsuka had cast Shoko as her Weaver Girl, but she was no Cowherd. No matter how hard she begged her parents to move to the city, no matter how much she dolled herself up or chased her idol dreams, she could never claim the one she wanted.
She didn't reach the "heavens." Instead, she got covered in dust. The further she drifted from Shoko, the more distant they became.
And the further apart they grew, the more Hatsuka's longing swelled, twisting into something warped.
Maybe—maybe—she once truly wanted Shoko. But now? The "Shoko" in her heart, the one in her memories, was buried under layers of grime, no longer the real thing. The true Shoko had long vanished.
In the end, Hatsuka was just chasing a reflection in the water, grasping at a phantom of the past.
The moon was out of reach, and the phantom shattered into pieces.
As Kairi put it: Hatsuka was staring at a fake starry sky. The real city night was lit up by neon—
No stars in sight.
In the dreamscape, Hatsuka reaches out, gently touching the sleeping Shoko. She lifts her head and speaks to the group waiting in the outer hall. "Alright… let's do it."
Her voice is heavy with exhaustion and resignation.
Kairi's blunt words had torn through the dream's veil, laying bare the ugly, heartbreaking truth. Hatsuka feels like she should be angry, but she's too drained to muster it.
"…Sorry," Kairi says, her voice tinged with unease.
Hatsuka lets out a bitter laugh. "I know you meant well."
Maybe it's because she's so used to the entertainment world's fake flattery and sugarcoating, but Kairi's brutal honesty—zero regard for feelings—feels almost… endearing.
Hatsuka starts laying out the situation. "Right now, Shoko's hiding in her own dream to recover. I don't know if she can sense what's happening outside. I tried diving into her dream-within-a-dream, but it's a minefield in there. Even I couldn't stay long, so I've got no clue what's going on with her in that layer."
Nero does some quick mental math. That'd be the third layer of the dream, right? If you're going by Inception logic, that's damn close to the dreamer's subconscious sea—just one step from the Lost Domain, where collective subconscious rules.
"Dangerous?" Nero asks.
"It's crawling with all kinds of monsters," Hatsuka replies. "They attack anything foreign on sight."
"Subconscious guardians? Or Nanna's will manifesting as invaders?" Nero presses.
"I think it's both. A lot of those monsters were tearing into each other."
Nero lets out a breath.
Well, that answers the question of "how to help Shoko." Clear out the monsters invading her mind, and she'll have the upper hand against Nanna.
Looks like Nero's flying solo on this one.
"No time to waste. Let's move," she says. Time's ticking, and she's gotta hustle.
"I need to bring you into the same dream layer as me first," Hatsuka says, eyeing Nero's eagerness. "If you're ready, pick a seat, lie down, and don't fight it. I'll use my ability to put you under and take you to Shoko."
Nero glances at Kairi. "Can't you just bring my body along?"
She figured Kairi wasn't taking her straight into the dream because Hatsuka needed to drop some barrier first.
But Kairi shakes her head. "Wouldn't recommend it."
Her reasoning: "I'll guard your body with shadows while you're in the dream. Hatsuka can pull you out anytime, so you've got double insurance. If you go in alone, body and all, I can't leave Riki unguarded. If something goes wrong, I might not get to you in time."
"Fine," Nero grumbles.
It just means she can't rely on some of her demon gear. No big deal. She picks a seat, lies back, and relaxes.
"Let's do this," she says.
"Just you?" Hatsuka asks.
Nero glances around. "No point dragging the others in. They'd just be dead weight."
"Alright, relax. Don't resist—"
Hatsuka's voice stretches in Nero's ears, like someone hit the slow-motion button. A soft force wraps around her, and sleep creeps in—
Then, snap. Everything's back to normal.
"You good?" Hatsuka asks.
Nero opens her eyes slowly. She's still in the planetarium, same seat and all. But Kairi, Ain, and the others are gone.
Hatsuka isn't asleep this time—she's standing right in front of Nero. Her golden hair sways, and her violet eyes swirl like deep vortexes.
"No issues," Nero says, glancing at Shoko, who's still lying nearby like a lifeless doll. She turns back to Hatsuka. "Let's keep moving—"
A weird, disjointed sensation cuts her off. In that split second, Hatsuka's face twists.
"No—no, something's wrong!" she cries. "Someone's severed your connection to this dream!"
What?!
Before Nero can even ask what's happening, the seat behind her rips open. A massive pull from beyond the dream yanks her into the crack.