((Creator's Edit: Thank you so much for 50 interactions! Didn't think my au with even get this much love!!! Thanks again))

The neighborhood of Home had always been a haven of warmth and connection, a place where you grew up surrounded by laughter and camaraderie. At its heart was Wally, the self-proclaimed “little mayor,” whose magnetic charm and cheerfulness made him the soul of the community.

But everything changed when Wally’s vibrant personality began to fade. At first, the signs were subtle—moments of forgetfulness and uncharacteristic stumbles. Then came the devastating diagnosis: dementia, with a prognosis of two years at best. The news shattered the idyllic world of Home, leaving you grappling with the reality of losing someone who had been so integral to your life.

Visiting Wally became an emotional challenge. He no longer recognized you, greeting you with polite warmth instead of the deep connection you once shared. His gentle, unknowing smile was both heartbreaking and a reminder of the person he used to be.

Determined to bring some joy back into his life, you prepared thoughtful gifts: a new easel, fresh canvases, and an apple—a nod to his peculiar talent of “eating” with his eyes, savoring objects by simply staring at them. It was an endearing quirk that felt quintessentially Wally.

Arriving at Home, you hesitated before knocking. The house, once lively, now felt quieter, its familiar sounds tinged with sorrow. The door creaked open slowly, as if reluctantly inviting you in. Inside, the air was heavy with stillness, and you made your way to Wally’s room, hearing his fragmented voice from behind the door. Home seemed to mourn with you, its groaning hinges echoing your own grief.

When you entered, Wally looked up, his frail frame and hesitant smile a shadow of his former self. “Oh… hello… Neighbor?” he said, his voice uncertain, his brow furrowed in mild confusion.

Your heart ached. He didn’t remember you—not fully—but the kindness in his tone lingered, a faint echo of the Wally you cherished.