Wrong Script, Right Love Chapter 182: Towards the Happiness

[Renji’s POV—The White Realm—Night]

All I rember after seeing her at the signal is this—returning to the Kurosawa mansion. Dinner. Hayato’s warmth beside . Sleep.

So why—why am I here again?

The White Realm stretched endlessly in every direction, a sea of pale light without horizon or shadow. The air felt still, heavy with mory. With fate.

I took a step forward. Then another.

"Grandma..." I called, my voice echoing too softly. "Grandma God?"

Nothing answered.

Then—"How are you, my child?"

Her voice ca from behind . I turned slowly. She stood there as if she had always been there—small, calm, wrapped in that sa gentle inevitability. She smiled wide, eyes crinkling with fondness.

"It’s nice eting you after such a long ti, my child."

I stared at her, unmoving.

"...I’m not happy to see you, Grandma," I said flatly.

She laughed, a light, chiming sound that rippled through the white expanse. "Hoho... still straightforward as ever."

I didn’t smile.

I didn’t bow.

I stood my ground.

I didn’t know why she had summoned —but every ti she had, my life had been torn apart and rearranged by forces I never consented to. I had lost a world once. Lost Alvar. Lost my happiness.

Not again.

Not now—when I have my happiness. When I found back my love.

I lifted my chin, eting her gaze without fear.

"Why did you call here, Grandma?" I asked quietly. Then my voice hardened. "Whatever the reason, if you dare take Hayato away from again—I will drag the so-called gods down to earth myself and destroy everything. I won’t hesitate."

For the first ti— She blinked. Then she smiled. Wider. Not amused.

Proud.

"You and your husband," she said softly, "have the sa nature when it cos to protecting each other, my child."

I frowned. "Huh?"

She continued calmly, as if she hadn’t just shifted the ground beneath my feet.

"After you returned to your world," she said, "Alvar threatened the gods."

My breath hitched.

"What... do you an, threatened the gods? He must’ve forgotten everything, right?"

"He was ant to forget," she said, nodding. "And he did. For a ti." Then she sighed. "But a year later, Zephy—that foolish dragon—restored everything."

My fists clenched.

"He poured all his power into him," Grandma God continued. "He forced Alvar’s mories open. And the mont Alvar rembered you—"

The White Realm dimd.

"And he waged war against the gods who took away his love."

My eyes widened.

"He threatened to destroy every ancient temple. Every monunt. Every source of divine power in that world." Her gaze sharpened. "And he almost succeeded."

Silence followed.

I should have been shocked.

Terrified.

But instead—I smirked. I folded my arms slowly, pride swelling in my chest like a living thing.

"Heh," I said softly. "Did you see that? The Power of Love."

She laughed again, nodding. "Yes," she admitted. "The power of love nearly overturned an entire world."

My heart pounded—not with fear—

But with joy.

With pride.

Alvar had fought gods to return to . He had loved so fiercely that even divinity had been forced to bend. But then—I looked back at her, eyes narrowing.

"You still haven’t answered my question, Grandma," I said quietly. "Why did you call here?"

Her smile softened.

And sohow—that frightened more than anything else.

"Do not worry, my child," she said gently. "I am not here to take away the happiness you and Alvar fought for."

She paused, her gaze turning distant. "I am here... for Zephyy."

I frowned. "Zephyy?"

My heart skipped uneasily. "What happened to him? Is he okay? Did sothing happen?"

Her smile dimd, just slightly.

"As you know, Zephyy was a divine dragon." She sighed. "But he broke the law of Divinity."

The air felt heavier.

"He forcibly restored Alvar’s mories—mories erased by the gods themselves." Her voice remained calm, but there was weight in every word. "And for that... punishnt was inevitable."

My chest tightened.

"He lost all his divinity," she continued. "And he died... alone, in the cave where you once found him."

My eyes widened.

Tears slipped down before I could stop them.

"Zephyy..." My hands trembled. "He... died? Because of us?"

She nodded once. "Yes, my child."

The words hit harder than any curse.

"That poor dragon served as a divine guardian for centuries," she said softly. "He protected worlds, upheld balance. But one act of love... cost him everything."

I clenched my fists, tears falling freely now.

"But," she added, lifting her gaze, "because his life was filled with good karma, the gods reached a decision."

I looked up sharply.

"We have allowed him to be reborn," she said. "As a human."

My breath caught.

"Really?" I whispered. "Zephyy... reborn as a human?"

She nodded. "Yes."

Hope blood painfully in my chest. "But unfortunately, he was abandoned by his parents."

My heart ached.

"So," she said gently, "after you marry Hayato, I want you to take Zephyy under your care, my child."

I didn’t hesitate.

Not even for a second, "I will...I will adopt him as my child."

Her eyes softened.

"But... how will I recognize him?" I asked quietly.

She smiled. "You won’t need signs or miracles. Your instincts will guide you. Both of yours."

I nodded, swallowing hard.

"Look for an orphanage outside the city," she said. "That’s where your path will lead."

I breathed in deeply, steadying myself. Then she smiled again—warm, proud.

"And... congratulations, my child," she said. "You have finally rewritten your happiness."

I smiled through my tears.

"Thank you," I said softly. "For giving my love back, Grandma."

She nodded. "Take care, my chi—"

"Wait," I interrupted suddenly. "May I ask one more thing?"

She inclined her head. "Of course."

"...Will Hayato ever rember his life as Alvar?" I asked.

She smiled—not mysteriously. Not cruel. Peaceful.

"Does it matter anymore, my child?" she asked gently.

I paused.

Then I smiled.

"No, Grandma," I said. "It doesn’t."

Her hand reached out and pressed lightly against my chest—and the world tilted.

"I bless you," she said warmly, "all three of you... with a life filled with happiness."

Light surged, and the White Realm began to fade.

***

[The Next Morning—Hayato’s Bedroom]

I woke up wrapped in Hayato’s arms, not just held—anchored.

His warmth surrounded completely, steady and real. I felt his fingers brush gently against my cheek, wiping away sothing wet before I even realized I’d been crying.

"Did you have a nightmare, my love?" He asked softly, concern woven into every word.

I looked up at him, eyes still heavy, heart impossibly full. Then I shook my head and snuggled closer, pressing myself into his chest like that was where I belonged.

"No," I murmured. "This ti... it wasn’t a nightmare."

He frowned slightly, still worried. "Then why were you crying?"

I smiled—slow, peaceful, and honest. "Because I’m happy."

His expression softened instantly, relief washing over his features. One arm tightened around as if he was afraid to let go, his hand rubbing slow circles along my back.

I closed my eyes.

He fought gods for . He has shaken the god’s realm for . My Alvar. My Hayato...my husband.

Even without rembering, his love had shaken worlds.

I lifted my leg over his waist, curling into him fully, breathing him in like the safest place I knew. "I love you so much, Hayato," I whispered.

He chuckled quietly and patted my back, the sound vibrating through . He kissed my forehead, lingering there.

"I love you more than you love , my love," he said confidently.

I smiled against his chest.

Yes.This was happiness.

And sowhere out there—waiting, lost but alive—

Hold on a little longer, Zephyy. I will find you; just wait for us.

I tightened my arms around Hayato, heart steady and hopeful, and for the first ti, the future didn’t feel uncertain after seeing Grandma God.

It felt warm.

It felt right.

It felt like ho.

And just like that—life moved forward. While we returned to work as if the world hadn’t shifted beneath our feet, Hayato’s parents began preparing for our wedding. Quietly at first. Then boldly. Then grandly.

The announcent ca from none other than the director himself—Hayato’s father—formal, decisive, and unmistakable.

A Kurosawa wedding.

And the city buzzed.

"WHAT?! You’re getting married?!"

Mika’s voice echoed through the coffee shop, sharp and loud and completely unfiltered. Every head turned toward us.

She froze.

"I—I apologize! I’m so sorry!" She bowed repeatedly, flustered.

Then she leaned in, eyes wide with disbelief. "But... isn’t it too soon?"

I blinked at her.

"Soon?" I repeated softly.

Then I smiled.

"No, Mika," I said gently. "It’s not too soon. It’s just... too late."

She stared at , confused.

But only I understood. After living two lives—as Leif and as Renji. After losing, rembering, fighting gods, and choosing love again—we were late.

Late to peace. Late to happiness. Late to a life without fear.

But we were finally here.

And this ti—we weren’t letting anything take it away.