16

The sky above was so vast and distant that she could feel the space beyond it.

No VR world could re-create that feeling of empty sky. Within the deep, pure blue that was a forgotten remnant of the past autumn, little tufts and streaks of clouds formed a hanging blanket. Two sparrows perched on a thin electric line, and a military plane far above glinted with reflected sun.

Shino gazed endlessly into the tremendous depth of this combination of layers without tiring, feeling her mind being sucked into it.

The breeze was warm for mid-December, and the bustle of the students after school did not reach this spot behind the building. The sky at the center of Tokyo, usually a dull gray, looked like the sky over her hometown to the north on this rare occasion. Shino had been staring up into the endless sky for nearly ten minutes with her schoolbag clutched on her lap, sitting on the edge of the dreary planter with its bare, black soil.

Eventually, giggling voices and numerous footsteps intruded on her peace and quiet, and Shino was returned to the Earth at last. She craned her stiff neck and pulled up her white muffler, waiting for the offenders.

When they emerged from the path between the northwest corner of the campus and the large incinerator, Endou and her two cohorts noticed Shino and smirked sadistically.

Shino picked up her bag and stood. “Don’t call me out and then keep me waiting.”

One of the two followers blinked her heavy eyelids at high speed. The smile was gone from her lips. “Is it me, or are you gettin’ a little too full of yourself these days, Asada?”

In nearly identical form, the other one followed up, “Yeah, who talks to her own friends like that?”

They had all stopped about six feet from Shino, and were throwing her menacing stares from what they believed to be intimidating angles. Shino decided to stare back at Endou in the center, looking directly into her predatory insect’s eyes.

The silence lasted only a few seconds. Endou smiled and jutted her chin out. “Aw, whatever. Friends can handle anything you say. ’Cuz you’d still help us if we needed it, right? And we, like, really need it right now.”

The two followers snorted.

“Let me see 20,000 yen, for starters,” Endou said, in the casual tone of one asking to borrow an eraser.

Shino took off the noncorrective NXT polymer-lens glasses she wore and put them in her skirt pocket. She glared with every fiber of her being, enunciating every word carefully:

“As I said before, I have no intention of lending you anything.”

Endou’s eyes narrowed until they were as thin as wires. There was a persistent, hungry glare exuding from them. She growled, “Don’t think you can keep getting away with this bullshit. Just so you know, I actually borrowed it from my brother today. I can break you, Asada.”

“…Do your worst.”

Shino didn’t think she would actually do it, but to her surprise, one end of Endou’s mouth perked up into a smile. She put her hand into the bag.

In a way, a large black pistol emerging from a schoolgirl bag laden with clattering little mascot trinkets had some measure of black humor. Endou clumsily pulled the large pellet gun out and pointed it at Shino. “This thing can pop a hole in cardboard. He said I should never point it at anyone, but I bet you don’t mind. You’re used to it.”

Shino’s eyes were automatically drawn to the black muzzle. Her pulse suddenly jumped. The ringing in her ears started to drown out the other noise. Her breathing got fast and short, and a chill crept into her fingertips.

But she clenched her teeth, and using all her willpower, tore her eyes away from the darkness of the gun’s interior. She followed Endou’s hand on the grip up her arm, to her shoulder, her bleached hair, and then her face.

Endou’s agitation caused the capillaries in her eyes to float to the surface, making the irises dark and cloudy. They were ugly eyes. The eyes of one drunk on violence and power.

It wasn’t the gun that was truly frightful. It was the person holding it.

Endou frowned, unhappy that Shino wasn’t giving her the reaction she expected. “Cry, Asada. Get down on your hands and knees and apologize. Or I really will shoot you.”

She pointed the model gun at Shino’s left leg and smirked. Shino noticed her shoulder twitching, the movement necessary to twist her finger and pull the trigger. But no bullet emerged.

“What the hell?”

Again, then again, Endou pulled the trigger, but the only sound was the squeak of plastic. Shino took a deep breath, summoning strength to her stomach, then dropped the bag and reached out. Her thumb pressed hard on Endou’s wrist, weakening the grip, and she snatched the gun away with her other hand. Shino slipped her index finger into the trigger guard and squeezed the handle with her palm. For a plastic model, it was quite heavy.

“A 1911 Government, huh? Your brother’s got classic taste. Not my style, though,” she said, pointing the left side of the gun toward Endou. “The Government’s got a grip safety in addition to the thumb safety. You can’t shoot it unless you unlock both spots.”

Click, click. She removed the safety devices. “Plus, it’s a single action, so you have to cock it yourself to start with.”

She used her thumb to raise the hammer, and the trigger rose slightly within her grasp.

Shino ignored the dumbstruck girls and looked around. About six yards away was a line of blue plastic buckets next to the incinerator. Her eyes stopped on an empty juice can sitting atop one of the upturned buckets.

She propped the gun up with her free hand and took a basic isosceles stance. The can lined up along the axis of her right eye and the sight of the gun. After a moment’s thought, she raised the weapon a hair, held her breath, and squeezed the trigger.

It made a weak shump sound, and she felt a very slight recoil. The gun’s blowback system did work perfectly, however, and a little orange bullet popped out.

She figured that without knowing the finer control of the model, she would miss, but to her surprise, the shot landed luckily right near the top of the can. It twanged and spun like a top before eventually tumbling over and rolling off the bucket.

Shino breathed out and lowered the gun, turning to look at Endou.

Her sardonic smile was gone. She was completely stunned, at a loss for words. As Shino maintained her direct stare, Endou eventually quavered and took a half step backward.

“N-no…don’t,” she squeaked.

Shino let her gaze soften at last. “…You’re right. This isn’t meant to be pointed at people,” she said, decocking the hammer and reactivating the safeties. She offered Endou the gun handle-first, and the other girl tensed in fear before eventually reaching out to take it.

Shino turned, picked up her bag, and tugged her muffler up again. She cast a brief good-bye over her shoulder and started walking. Endou’s group did not move. The three stood in paralyzed silence all the while it took Shino to round the corner of the building and put them out of her sight.

The moment she was safe, the strength drained out of her legs, and Shino nearly slumped to the ground. She put a hand to the wall to stay upright.

There was a howling in her ears, and she felt the pulsing of blood in her temples. Sour bile burned at the back of her throat. She was in no condition to repeat what she’d just done.

Still, this was the first step.

She willed strength into her wilted legs, forcing them to resume walking. The cold weight of the model gun was still stuck to her palm and refused to disappear, but as the cold, dry wind blew on her hand, the effect slowly faded. When her fingers were ready to move again, she took out her glasses and placed them on her face.

Shino crossed the walkway linking the west entrance of the school to the gymnasium, and a short while later, cut across the corner of the athletic field. She walked past the members of the sports clubs running around the track, then passed through the small copse of trees to the south, putting her at the front entrance of the school.

She weaved her way quickly through the milling groups of students departing for the day, then stopped when something caught her eye. Several groups of female students within the high walls of the school had stopped nearby, speaking softly among themselves and glancing at the gate.

Shino spotted two classmates who weren’t totally hostile to her, and walked over to them. The one with long hair and black-rimmed glasses noticed her and waved with a grin. “Are you leaving now, Asada?”

“Yeah. What’s going on?”

The other girl, who had brown hair tied into two tails, shrugged and chuckled. “There’s a boy with a different school uniform on, waiting at the gate. He’s on a motorcycle and has two helmets, so we figure he has to be waiting on someone. We were all wondering who the lucky girl is. I know it’s gossipy, but who do you think it is?”

Even as she heard it, Shino felt the blood drain from her face. She checked her watch, furiously denying that it could be true.

It was true that they had agreed for him to wait for her around this time, and she had demanded he give her a ride on his bike to save the train costs. But who would be so bold and so daring as to park his motorcycle right in front of the main gate of the school?

…He would. He absolutely would.

She leaned timidly against the wall and glanced at the driveway turnaround on the other side of the gate, then slumped her shoulders. There he was, leaning against the flashy-colored little motorcycle with kickstand deployed, helmet in both hands, gazing absentmindedly up at the sky, dressed in an unfamiliar uniform. It was undoubtedly the boy she’d met just two days earlier.

The thought of walking over to him and hopping onto the back of his bike with over a dozen people watching made the tips of her ears burn with embarrassment. Shino wished with all her heart that she could just log out of this scene. She summoned up what courage she had left and turned to her classmates.

“Um…well…that’s, uh…an acquaintance of mine,” she said, her voice barely audible. The girl with the glasses went wide-eyed.

“Huh… It’s for you, Asada?!”

“H-how do you know each other?!” the other girl shrieked. Shino felt the growing attention from others around them and squeezed her bag tight, trying to shrink into as small a ball as she could. She started to race off, stammering an apology for some reason.

One of them demanded an explanation tomorrow as she raced through the old-fashioned bronze gate and into the turnaround.

The brazen intruder continued to stare absentmindedly into the sky, even as she approached right next to him.

“…Excuse me,” she said, right into his ear. He blinked in surprise and looked down. The lazy smile returned.

“Hi, Sinon. Nice afternoon.”

Now that she got a better look at him in the light of day, the real Kirito had a slightly transparent, out-of-place air about him. His longish black hair, extremely pale skin, and surprisingly scrawny body contained a whiff of all of those girlish features that she remembered from his virtual self.

That fragile atmosphere he carried around—if she was being uncharitable, she might describe it as “sickly”—put Shino in mind of the two years of imprisonment he had suffered. She hastily held her tongue before she hurled any more snark his way.

“…Hi. Sorry about the wait.”

“Nah, I only just got here. By the way…it seems like…”

He looked around the front entrance of the school, noticing all of the students who were watching the scene unfold.

“…we’re drawing a lot of attention…”

“Okay, listen,” Shino said, annoyed, “anyone who parks their motorcycle at the front of a school they don’t go to is gonna attract attention.”

“Oh…I guess you’re right. Well,” he said, suddenly showing off that cynical, cheeky smirk she saw him make often in the virtual world, “if we hold out a bit longer, maybe the guidance counselor will show up and tell us off for being a bad influence? That could be fun.”

“N-no, that’s not funny!”

It wasn’t out of the question, actually. She automatically glanced back toward the gate and growled, “C’mon, let’s go!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kirito smirked. He took a light green helmet off the handlebars and offered it to Shino.

She took the helmet, reminding herself that he was the same snot-nosed, arrogant jerk who had caused her so much headache in GGO, and that she shouldn’t be fooled by his appearance. She swung the bag over her back and put the open-faced helmet over her head. She tried to put the chin harness on, but didn’t know how.

“Hang on a sec.”

Kirito’s hand appeared and adjusted the strap under her chin. She felt her face grow hot again and lowered the visor to hide it. She had no idea how she’d explain this one at school tomorrow.

With his own black helmet on, Kirito swung over the seat. He paused and wondered, “Sinon…what about your skirt?”

“I have leggings on underneath, for PE.”

“I-is that the only thing that matters?”

“Well, it’s not like you can see anything,” she shot back, then straddled the rear seat. She’d ridden on her grandfather’s rusty old Super Cub C90 when she was a little girl, so she knew what to do.

“All right, then…Hang on tight.”

Kirito turned the key and the old combustion engine growled to life, startling her. But the vibration through her hips and the smell of the exhaust reminded her of days gone by, and Shino couldn’t help but grin as she put her hands around Kirito’s bony midsection.

Traveling from Yushima in Bunkyo Ward to their destination in Ginza would be quite tricky using the subway, but it was actually quite close on surface streets.

After going down Chiyoda Street from Ochanomizu to the Imperial Palace, they puttered safely along the moatside. Fortunately, the mild weather gave them a pleasant breeze to enjoy. They passed the Ote gate, turned left from Uchibori Street onto Harumi Street, passed under the JR bridge, and found themselves in Ginza Yoncho-me.

It was a turtle’s pace compared to the mad rush they used to escape Death Gun on the three-wheeled buggy, but it still took less than fifteen minutes to reach their destination.

Kirito showed Shino into a very expensive-looking café the likes of which she’d never been in. The instant she walked in the door, she was taken aback by the dignified bow of a water in a crisp white shirt and black butterfly tie.

No sooner had he asked if it was a party of two, setting off dire implications in Shino’s head, than a rude bellow erupted from the rear of the establishment, destroying the chic atmosphere.

“Hey, Kirito, back here!”

“Um, I’m with…that,” Kirito noted uncomfortably. The waiter nodded and bowed in understanding without missing a beat. Shino timidly walked down the sparkling floor, feeling extremely out of place in her school uniform in the midst of so many fancy ladies in the middle of their shopping day.

Standing at the other end of their table was a tall man wearing an expensive, dark blue suit, a regimental tie, and black-framed glasses. She knew that he was a government official, but while he did fit that white-collar vibe, there was also something scholarly about him.

He gestured to the chairs and sat down across from them next to the window. Within seconds, steaming hot towels and leatherbound menus materialized.

“Order anything you like,” he offered. She opened the menu and glanced down, only to register sheer shock. The sandwiches, pasta, and other meals were expensive, of course, but even the desserts all had four-digit prices in yen.

She froze with indecision, but Kirito only snorted. “You might as well get whatever looks good. This is all on the taxpayers’ dime.”

She looked up and saw the bespectacled man smiling and nodding.

“W-well, then…I’ll have the cheesecake with cranberry sauce…and Earl Grey,” she said. On the inside, she was pale: Oh my God, that cost 2,200 yen!

Kirito followed by ordering an apple chiboust, a Mont Blanc, and an espresso. She didn’t even want to imagine what the total cost was approaching now. The waiter bowed deeply and left.

The man across from them reached into his pocket for a black leather case and handed Shino a business card from it.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Kikuoka, from the Ministry of Internal Affairs’ Telecommunications Bureau,” he said in a pleasing tenor.

Shino hastily took his card and bowed. “N-nice to meet you. I’m Shino Asada.”

Kikuoka’s mouth pursed shut, and he bowed deeply. “I am truly sorry that our lack of preparation led to your being put in danger.”

“Um…it’s all right now,” she said, bowing back.

Kirito butted in, “You’d better get a proper apology out of him. If Mr. Kikuoka had done his research, neither you nor I would have gone through all of that.”

“As to that, I can offer no defense,” Kikuoka replied, hanging his head like a scolded child. “But you didn’t predict everything yourself, did you, Kirito? You certainly didn’t expect that Death Gun was a team.”

“Well…you’ve got me there,” Kirito replied, leaning back in the creaking antique chair. “You might as well tell us everything you’ve figured out, Mr. Kikuoka.”

“Fine, but…it’s only been two days since their crimes came to light. It’s a long way until we know the full extent of the situation…”

He lifted his coffee cup and took a sip before continuing, “As I said, this team was three in all—at least, according to the testimony of their ringleader, Shouichi Shinkawa.”

“And this Shouichi was the one in the tattered cloak who attacked me and Sinon in the BoB final?” Kirito asked.

Kikuoka nodded. “It’s almost certain. The log from the AmuSphere we confiscated from his apartment showed that he was logged in to Gun Gale Online at the same time as the event.”

“His own apartment…What kind of person was Shouichi Shinkawa? He was the one pulling all of the strings?”

“As for that, we’ll have to start from before the SAO Incident in 2022. But before we get to that…”

The waiter brought a delicate cart by, bearing a number of plates. Once they had been silently deployed onto the table and the waiter was gone, Kikuoka waved for them to tuck in. Shino was not in a particularly hungry mood, but she could probably eat a small piece of cake. She and Kirito said grace and picked up their golden forks.

She carved out a small corner of the wedge of cheesecake, drizzled in a brilliant red sauce, and brought it to her lips. A flavor like concentrated cheese filled her mouth, but to her surprise, it practically melted on her tongue. For an instant, she wanted the recipe, then realized that they would never give it to her.

Once she had gobbled down half of the cake, she set the fork aside and picked up her tea cup. When she had taken a sip of the hot, faintly citrus-flavored liquid, she felt the compressed parts in the very depths of her heart begin to relax, bit by bit.

“…It’s very good,” she murmured, which brought a smile to Kikuoka’s face.

“Of course, the best time to eat delicious things is alongside more pleasant topics. You’ll have to join me another time.”

“Uh, s-sure.”

Meanwhile, Kirito had decimated the tawny brown mountain of Mont Blanc. He joked, “I wouldn’t do it if I were you. His idea of ‘pleasant’ topics is either stinky or creepy.”

“Wh-why, I’m hurt. I’ll have you know the story of my Southeast Asian gourmet tour is quite a riveting one…But before I get off topic, let’s discuss the incident.”

Kikuoka pulled an ultrathin tablet out of his business bag and began prodding at the screen with his long fingers. Shino sat still, nervously awaiting the teacherlike man’s explanation.

She did want to know everything to do with the Death Gun incident, of course. But at the same time, something deep in her heart screamed out that it didn’t want to know the truth.

She knew that in a way, part of her still trusted Kyouji Shinkawa. Even after he pointed that terrible syringe at her, she couldn’t bring herself to hate him entirely. She couldn’t just give up on her fondness for him altogether. She wanted to believe that what she saw didn’t represent him, but someone else who had wormed their way into his mind. That was just how she felt.

About forty hours had passed since what happened late Sunday night.

At Kirito’s suggestion, she had washed her face in the bathroom and changed out of her sweater, at which point the police arrived.

They arrested Kyouji Shinkawa at once, who was still only half-conscious after the battering his head had taken. An ambulance came, and he was transported to the police hospital.

Shino and Kirito were taken to a different hospital, for a few just-in-case tests. The doctor on duty pronounced them just fine aside from a few abrasions, at which point they underwent police questioning there in the examination room. Shino tried to keep her fuzzy mind working, telling them only what had happened in her apartment.

Though she didn’t realize it, Shino had hit the peak of her mental stress, according to the physician, and he called an end to the police questioning at two in the morning. She spent the night there in the hospital and woke up at six thirty in the morning. The doctor recommended that she return to her apartment, and she decided to go to school.

She just barely made it through her Monday classes, nodding off here and there. She assumed that Kyouji’s attack had already made it around school—though he hadn’t attended for a while, he was still a registered student there—but no one was spreading any rumors about him.

When she returned to her apartment after school, ignoring Endou’s usual summons, there was a police car waiting for her. She headed to the same hospital with a change of clothes, took a simple examination from the doctor, then underwent her second questioning. This time, Shino asked a number of questions, mostly about Kyouji, but learned nothing other than that he wasn’t hurt too bad, and was mostly refusing to say anything to the police.

She was told to stay in the hospital again that night, for “security reasons.” After eating, showering, and making a brief call to her grandparents and mother, Shino laid down in her hospital bed. She slipped into a deep sleep and remembered nothing afterward. When she woke, she had the sensation of coming out of a long dream, but didn’t remember anything about it.

On Tuesday—this morning—she was taken back to her apartment in an unmarked police car. As she stepped out of the car, the detective informed her that her questioning was over for now. She was grateful for that, but she wondered how she would learn more about what had happened. She was slicing tomatoes for her breakfast before school when the phone rang. It was Kirito. Right off the bat, he asked if she had time after school, and she automatically said yes.

Now she was seated next to Kirito, hearing the briefing from the government official who was the boy’s “employer.”

Kikuoka looked up from the tablet and spoke in a low voice, mindful of the people around.

“Shouichi Shinkawa is the eldest son of the owner and director of a general hospital. He was sickly from a young age, in and out of the hospital until he graduated middle school. He was a year late to high school…and because of that, his father abandoned his hopes for Shouichi to inherit the family business, placing his hopes instead on his second son, Kyouji, who was three years younger. Kyouji had a home tutor while in elementary school, and would sometimes receive his father’s lessons himself, leaving Shouichi completely to his own devices. The elder brother was pressured by the lack of hope, while the younger was pressured by the weight of that hope…according to the testimony of their father.”

He paused, taking a sip of coffee to wet his tongue.

Shino looked down at the table and tried to imagine what parents’ expectations must be like. But she couldn’t get a good feel for it.

Despite how close they had been, she’d never sensed any of this pressure from Kyouji in person. She realized once again that she’d been so obsessed with her own issues that she never paid any attention to his. It was a painful reminder.

Kikuoka continued, “But despite the circumstances, the brothers still got along. Shouichi quit high school and sought solace in the online world, particularly in MMORPGs, and his brother picked the habit up from him soon after. Eventually, Shouichi fell prisoner to Sword Art Online, spending two years in his father’s hospital in a coma, but once back, he became a sort of idol figure to Kyouji…a hero, if you will.”

Shino sensed Kirito’s breathing becoming a bit more tense next to her. But Kikuoka only paused his smooth, hushed explanation for a moment before continuing.

“After he returned, Shouichi never touched upon his experiences in SAO, it seems, but once his rehab was over and he returned home, he did tell Kyouji some things…about how many players he had attacked in that world, and the fear his murderous ways struck in the others. At this point, Kyouji’s grades were suffering, and he was being extorted by upperclassmen, so in Shouichi’s tales he found not disgust or fear, but exhilaration and release.”

“Um…” Shino piped up. Kikuoka looked up and craned his neck, prompting her to continue. “Did Shinkawa…I mean, Kyouji tell you about this?”

“No, this is all based on his brother’s statements. Shouichi answered everything the police asked him, including what he thought about his brother’s state of mind. On the other hand, Kyouji has maintained total silence.”

“…I see.”

There was no way for Shino to know what kind of place Kyouji’s soul wandered now. Though she knew it was impossible, she almost imagined that if she logged in to GGO right now, she would find Spiegel in the corner of the bar where they usually met, as if nothing had ever happened.

“Uh, p-please continue,” she urged. Kikuoka nodded and glanced at the tablet again.

“We only have conjectures as to when the brothers reached the point of no return, but I understand that Shouichi started playing Gun Gale Online on Kyouji’s recommendation. Shouichi didn’t show the kind of VR rejection that many of the other SAO Survivors did, but he also didn’t take to the game very enthusiastically. Rather than venture into the wilderness, he preferred to watch other players in town and imagine how he would kill them, he said. But that all changed when he got himself an invisibility cloak through a Real Money Transaction.”

“An RMT,” Shino muttered to herself. She suspected that the tattered cloak with the Metamaterial Optical Camo effect had to be an ultrarare drop from a boss monster. It could easily go for a higher price than her Hecate II on the open market.

“I would have to assume…it cost an incredible amount,” she said.

Kikuoka affirmed her assumption, shaking his head in disbelief. “It apparently cost just over 300,000 yen. But that wasn’t much, given that Shouichi had a 500,000-yen monthly allowance from his father.”

“Which means…his huge rifle and rare-material estoc were bought with real cash, too…I’m glad SAO had no monetization or auction systems,” Kirito murmured, his face deadly serious.

Kikuoka nodded and continued the story. “Indeed. Once Shouichi was able to hide himself using that cloak, he began working on his ability to stalk other players in town without being detected. At that point, he was simply enjoying following them around…but one day, he followed a target to the hall of the regent’s office and noticed that they were using one of the game’s information terminals. On a whim, he took out his binoculars and watched the screen from the shadow of a pillar. To his surprise, the screen showed the real-life name and address of the player.”

“Meaning that he didn’t buy the cloak in order to gain information, but the opposite…That he had the cloak before the idea came to him,” Kirito sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Hiding has always been a core skill in MMOs, going way back. It would be strange for a game not to feature it. But…I think that in a VRMMO, the full range of its uses is too heavily weighted toward bad behavior. They ought to outlaw it in town, at the very least. Can you submit a complaint to Zaskar about that, Sinon?”

She was not expecting to have the conversation directed her way. “Wh-why don’t you do it? Anyway…it sounds like it was the cloak that caused the birth of Death Gun,” she said, directing the statement toward Kikuoka. The official nodded and looked down at his tablet. Something about his calm, pleasing face struck Shino as notable, but she decided that it didn’t matter now.

Kikuoka’s hushed voice traveled over the sunlit table. “That would be correct. Shouichi automatically memorized all of the personal information he saw, logged out, and wrote it down. But at the time, he had no intention of doing anything with it. It was the act of stealing their information that excited him, and so he spent the next several days camped out in the regent’s office, waiting for players to enter their addresses. Ultimately, he gleaned the details of sixteen players over this stretch. That includes yours, Shino Asada.”

“…”

Shino nodded. If it was in early September, that was just before the second BoB. Assuming there were at least five hundred players who registered for the tournament, and roughly half of them would have put in their information in the hopes of getting a model gun, stealing the info of sixteen of them seemed quite possible.

Kikuoka continued, “One day in October, Kyouji revealed to Shouichi that he had hit a wall with his character. He blamed it all on the false information spread by another player named Zexceed. Shouichi recalled that Zexceed was one of the very players whose information he’d stolen, and he told Kyouji about it.”

That was it. That had to be the moment that the wall between Kyouji’s virtual and real lives began to crumble and disappear.

“Shouichi claims that it wasn’t solely the idea of either of them,” Kikuoka said, his smooth voice passing right into Shino’s ear. “The two of them discussed how they should use Zexceed’s personal information to purge him, and thus the outline of the Death Gun plan came to be. Still, he explained that it was just a bunch of fun, imaginary games at first. Shooting a player in the game at the same time the player died in real life sounds easy when you say it, but in reality it is fraught with challenges. They debated for days, clearing hypothetical hurdles to the plan one after the other. It seems the biggest issues were getting the master code to undo the electronic lock, and acquiring the syringe and drugs…”

“A big hospital should have legal master codes they can use to unlock a patient’s door in the case of an emergency. I would assume that goes for their father’s hospital as well,” Kirito pointed out.

Kikuoka pursed his lips in a silent whistle of admiration. “Very good. As a matter of fact, the government’s support of keyless locks on residential homes was to strengthen control over the previously inviolable realm of private residences…but that’s supposed to be a secret. At any rate, the two brothers did indeed plan to steal the master code, high-pressure syringe, and succinylcholine from their father’s hospital. Shouichi claimed that up to this point, everything about the plan was just one big game—nothing different from the way they gathered info on a target party in SAO, scraped together the necessary equipment, then carried out an attack. It seems that he suggested to the detective who was questioning him that they must have felt the same way about their job. They listen to NPCs, gather intel, capture bounties, and turn them in for money. Being a police officer is no different than playing a game, he said.”

“I wouldn’t take that at face value,” Kirito muttered.

Kikuoka’s eyebrows rose. “Is that so?”

“Yeah. In a sense, Shouichi might think that way. But when he was Red-Eyed Xaxa, he convinced everyone around him that it was all just a game, yet the only reason he was so fascinated by what he did was the knowledge that the players’ deaths were real. In either world, he just believes that whatever doesn’t suit his ends isn’t actually real. You might call it the dark side of VRMMOs. It makes reality less real.”

“Ahh. And…what about your reality?” Kikuoka asked.

Kirito was about to put on his usual sardonic smirk, but switched to a dead-serious look as he stared into space. “…There are absolutely some things I left behind in that world. And therefore, I’m currently lacking that much right now.”

“Do you want to go back?”

“Don’t ask me that. It’s tasteless,” Kirito said, grimacing. He glanced toward Shino. “What do you think about that, Sinon?”

“Uh…”

She wasn’t prepared to answer that question. Shino was not used to the practice of putting her thoughts into words. Nevertheless, she tried her best to say what she had felt.

“Well…what you’re saying now isn’t what you said earlier, Kirito.”

“Huh…?”

“You said there was no such thing as the virtual world. You said wherever you are, that’s reality. There are lots of VRMMO games out there, but it’s not like the players are all divided up between them. I mean, this around us…” She reached over and traced his arm with her fingers. “This world is the only reality. If it turned out that all of this was just another virtual world created by the AmuSphere, to me…it’s reality.”

Kirito’s eyes went wide, and he met her gaze long enough for her to feel self-conscious. Eventually, he put on a smile that surprisingly held not a hint of cynicism.

“…I see. Good point.” He glanced back at Kikuoka. “You should jot down what Sinon just said. It might be the only truth with any value to this incident.”

“Don’t tease me,” she said, bopping his shoulder with a fist. When she looked forward again, Kikuoka was staring at her, too. Feeling awkward, she examined the empty plate that had held her cake instead.

“No, maybe it’s right. Maybe it was just the complete opposite for Shouichi. To him, reality was always the place where he wasn’t.”

“He often repeated the phrase, ‘It’s not over yet.’ Perhaps he hasn’t completely returned from Aincrad yet…Perhaps Akihiko Kayaba’s goal of creating a world did not actually come about until the castle fell to ruin.”

“That’s scary. There are too many mysteries to the way he died…but that has nothing to do with this case. To bring us back on topic, once Shouichi had finished the preparations to make the plan a reality, he had essentially eliminated any mental barriers to the act of actually breaking into his victims’ homes and administering the lethal drug directly. It was Shouichi himself who drugged the first victim: Tamotsu Shigemura, aka Zexceed. Around one o’clock on November the ninth, he used his master code to unlock the door and infiltrate the apartment. At half past the hour, while Shigemura was taking part in an interview on the MMO Stream channel, he used the high-pressure syringe to inject the drug into the underside of the man’s chin. It was a muscle relaxant called suxamethonium chloride, or succinylcholine, which immediately shut down Shigemura’s respiration and heartbeat and caused him to die. That would mean that the player in GGO who shot at Zexceed was his brother, Kyouji.”

Shino’s shoulders twitched when she heard Kyouji’s name. Inside her head, she could hear his voice, full of loathing and hatred for Zexceed, as he straddled her in her apartment two nights ago.

It seemed that the false rumors leaked by Zexceed about statistical choices that caused him to lose out on his chance to be the strongest player in the game—though the existence of Yamikaze, who was an incredible player with an AGI build like Kyouji, belied that conclusion—made for an even more unpardonable crime than those students at his school who bullied him and took his money.

Or perhaps at this point in time, reality for Kyouji was already that other realm…

“The one who carried out the actual deed against the second victim, Usujio Tarako, was again Shouichi. The method was almost exactly the same. They had chosen a final list of seven candidates who shared similar traits. They had to live in Tokyo, alone, with older electronic locks that didn’t keep a log, or would have spare keys hidden nearby…”

“That had to be a lot of work to research,” Kirito noted.

Kikuoka grimaced. “I’ve no doubt that it involved a great amount of time and effort. But it seems that even after taking the lives of two players, still no one took the rumors of Death Gun very seriously.”

“Yes. Everyone thought they were just a stupid urban legend. So did I,” Shino murmured.

Kikuoka nodded heavily. “And no wonder. Kirito and I brainstormed a number of possibilities, but our ultimate conclusion was that it had to be the product of baseless rumors. Of course, it was the very approach of our conjectures that was wrong…”

“If only we’d noticed the truth just a day earlier…we could have prevented those two extra victims in the tournament itself,” Kirito said bitterly.

Shino didn’t even raise her head. “But you did save me.”

“No, I didn’t do anything. It was all you.”

She threw him a glance, then realized that she hadn’t properly thanked him for his part in it yet.

Kikuoka broke the brief silence. “If it weren’t for your hard work, it’s not hard to imagine that all seven people on that list would have been victimized. Please don’t blame yourselves.”

“I’m not, actually…I just think it would be a shame if this tarnished the reputation of VRMMOs again.”

“You know the buds growing from The Seed are too strong to die out because of this. Now there’s a gathering of countless little seedlings that will one day form a great World Tree of their own. What I want to know is, who could have planted such a thing?”

“…Who, indeed? On with the story,” Kirito prompted, clearing his throat.

“Of course. Well, I think you already know what happens next. Upset that the threat of Death Gun was not being taken seriously, the two brothers decided a more dramatic demonstration was necessary. They put together a plan to shoot three different players in the final round of the third Bullet of Bullets tournament. The players they singled out were Pale Rider, Garrett…and you, Sinon.”

“…”

Shino nodded. She already knew the name of Garrett, the fourth victim. He was a fashionable fellow who used an antique Winchester rifle. She thought of his trademark ten-gallon hat and said a silent prayer in his memory, then realized something.

“Oh…by the way, maybe this is just a coincidence, but…”

“What is it?”

“I think there might be one more quality that all seven of the targets shared. All of them, including me, were non-AGI builds.”

“Oh…? What does that mean…?”

“Shinkawa…I mean, Kyouji played a pure Agility build, and that caused him to hit a dead end. I think he probably felt conflicted about players who tried out a different build…especially if they had more than a little STR to work with.”

“Aha…” Kikuoka stared down at his tablet in silence for a bit. “So you’re saying…everything in the motive was rooted within the game itself. This will be a difficult thing for the prosecutors to use in court. But I don’t know…” He shook his head in disbelief.

In a tone of regret, Kirito said, “No, it’s quite possible. An MMO player’s character stats are the basis for their essential values. I know someone who pranked his friend by pushing his hand and causing him to place a single point in the wrong stat, and it led to them killing each other for months…within the game, of course. But that’s how big of a fight it caused.”

Shino could relate to that. But Kikuoka’s eyes went round, then he shook his head again.

“That would require the prosecutor, lawyer, judge, and jury to all experience a VRMMO for themselves to process. Perhaps it might be time to take the court’s facilities into consideration…But in any case, that’s not for us to worry about. Now, where was I?”

He prodded the tablet again. “Ah, yes. They chose three targets. But unlike the previous two cases, there was a big roadblock to pulling off the plan during the BoB—Death Gun and his collaborator in real life cannot be in contact. That made timing the shootings very difficult. It was technically made possible by the fact that the livestream was viewable from outside the game, but—”

“—it’s still not easy. There’s the matter of moving around,” Kirito interrupted, his expression bitter. “That’s where I missed out. I assumed there were only two Death Guns…”

“Yes, that’s correct. They chose the three targets who were closest together. While Pale Rider’s home in Omori and Garrett’s in Musashi-Kosugi are fairly close, Asada is quite a distance away from them in Yushima. And it seems that the usual Death Gun actor, Kyouji, was quite insistent on carrying out the real-life act in this case. Shouichi has a scooter, but Kyouji cannot drive. So Shouichi proposed adding a new partner. He is—let’s see… Atsushi Kanamoto, age nineteen. An old friend of Shouichi’s. Or more accurately…”

He glanced at Kirito. “A fellow guild member from SAO. His character name was…Johnny Black. Does that ring any bells?”

“It does,” Kirito said, closing his eyes. “He was the poison-knife guy who always teamed up with Xaxa in Laughing Coffin. They attacked and killed a number of players together back then, too. Dammit…If only I knew…If only I’d…”

Shino reached out and squeezed his hand to stop him from finishing his sentence. She stared into his eyes and shook her head from side to side. That was all it took to get her message across.

For a moment, Kirito’s face scrunched up like a child about to cry, but he indicated his understanding with his eyes. Then he was back to his usual poker face. Shino pulled her fingers free of his chilly hand and faced forward. Kikuoka stopped watching the two of them and continued his report.

“Whether Kanamoto, aka Johnny Black, took an active role in this plan isn’t clear from Shouichi’s testimony. It seems that even to Shouichi, this Kanamoto fellow was hard to understand in certain ways…”

“So why don’t you ask Kanamoto about all of this?” Kirito asked. It was a perfectly reasonable question.

Kikuoka only shook his head. “He hasn’t been caught yet.”

“Wha…?”

“We captured Kyouji Shinkawa at Miss Asada’s apartment, and took his brother Shouichi into custody at his home forty minutes later, but when we searched Kanamoto’s apartment in Ohta two hours later, based on Shouichi’s statements, he wasn’t there. They’re still watching the place in case he returns, but I haven’t had any reports of an arrest.”

“…And you’re positive that he carried out the murders of Pale Rider and Garrett during the tournament?”

“It’s almost certain. We haven’t found the high-pressure syringe and drug cartridge that Shouichi gave him, the same as Kyouji’s, but we did recover some hair in the victims’ apartments that was a DNA match for the stuff we found in Kanamoto’s residence.”

“Cartridge…” Shino repeated, feeling a chill at the coincidence with gun terminology. She remembered when Kyouji had the syringe pressed to her neck, claiming that it was the true Death Gun.

Kirito grimaced as well. “Did they use up all the drugs on the two targets?”

Once again, Kikuoka shook his head. “No…A full cartridge of succinylcholine contains well over a fatal dose, but Shouichi gave him three, just in case. He might still have one of them. That’s why we had police escorts for you from Monday until this morning—particularly for Miss Asada.”

“You’re saying that…Johnny Black might still be after Sinon?”

“It’s just a precaution. The police aren’t giving it serious consideration. After all, their Death Gun project fell into ruin. He has nothing to gain by attacking her, and there’s no history or hatred between Miss Asada and Kanamoto. We’ve already got the metropolitan automated security cam net in a trial run, so he won’t be able to hide for long.”

“…What is that?”

“We call it the S2 System. Computers automatically analyze camera footage to recognize the faces of wanted criminals…but the details are all classified.”

“Well, that’s not unsettling,” Kirito opined sardonically, sipping his coffee with a grimace.

“I agree with you there. But I think we can agree that it’s a good thing that Kanamoto will be caught soon. Back to the incident…”

Kikuoka traced the tablet and promptly shrugged. “I think you two probably know the details better than me after this point. Kyouji Shinkawa led an assault on Miss Asada’s residence just after the tournament, but was fortunately caught before he could carry it out. Shouichi Shinkawa was arrested soon after, and now Atsushi Kanamoto is wanted. The brothers are held at Motofuji Police Station, where their interrogation continues…and that is the full report of what happened. At least, as far as I understand it. Do you have any questions?”

“Um…”

Shino didn’t know if this was a question that could be answered, but she had to ask it anyway.

“What’s going to happen to Shinka—Kyouji—after this?”

“Hmm,” Kikuoka grunted, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “Shouichi is nineteen, and Kyouji is sixteen, so they will be tried as minors. However, given that there are four fatalities in this mess, I think they’ll probably get moved from the lower family court to a criminal prosecution. There, they’ll be subjected to a psychiatric examination. And depending on the results of that…Well, I think it’s likely they’ll be sent to a juvenile medical institution, given their actions. After all, they seem to be living outside the bounds of reality…”

“No…I don’t think that’s true,” Shino muttered. Kikuoka blinked and motioned for her to continue.

“I don’t know about his brother…but to Kyouji…I think reality was on the inside of Gun Gale Online.” She held up a hand and swiveled her fingers. “I think he decided that all of this in the real world was worthless, and the only truth was in GGO. Sure, everyone else might see that as simply an escape from the real world, but…”

Kyouji Shinkawa had tried to take Shino’s life. The fear and despair he inflicted on her was massive. But even then, for some reason, Shino couldn’t bring herself to hate him. All she felt was a deep, deep misery. It was the pain of that sorrow that moved her to speak.

“But the more energy you pour into an online game, the more it eventually turns into something other than just recreation. I mean, it’s a boring pain to keep grinding experience and money just to get stronger. Sometimes it’s fun just to mess around with your friends for a bit…but when you’re like Kyouji, committing hours of grunt work every day just to be the best, I think it has to cause an incredible amount of stress.”

“A game…causing stress? But isn’t that completely against the whole point…?” Kikuoka asked, aghast.

She nodded. “Yes. Kyouji literally flipped his world upside down. He switched this world…for that one.”

“But…why? Why would he need to go to such lengths to prove that he was the best?”

“I don’t know the answer. Like I said earlier, to me, the real world and the game world had their own separate continuities…Do you know what I mean, Kirito?”

She looked to her right and saw Kirito leaning back against the chair, eyes shut. Eventually, he murmured, “He wanted to be strong.”

Shino shut her lips, thought on the meaning of that statement, then nodded slowly. “Exactly. I was the same way. Maybe every VRMMO player is the same way. We just…want to be strong.”

She turned back to face Kikuoka. “Um, when do you think I’ll be able to see Kyouji?”

“Well, once the case has been filed with prosecutors, he’ll be held for a while, so it’ll have to be after he’s moved to juvenile classification.”

“I see. Well, I’ll pay him a visit. I want to tell him what I’ve been thinking…and what I’m thinking now.”

Even if it was too late, or her words didn’t get through to him, Shino felt she ought to do that much. Kikuoka gave her what felt like a genuine smile for once.

“You’re very strong. I highly suggest you do that. I’ll send you the details of his arrangements at a later time.” He checked the watch on his left wrist. “Pardon me, I ought to be going. For a dead-end post, there certainly are a number of duties to stay on top of.”

“Sorry about taking your time like this,” Kirito said.

Shino bowed her head. “Um…thank you. Very much.”

“Not at all. It was our lack of foresight that put you in danger. This is the least I can do. I’ll let you know if we learn anything new.”

Kikuoka picked up his bag from the nearby seat and stashed the tablet away, then rose to his feet. He was about to reach for the check on the table, but stopped.

“Oh, and Kirito.”

“…What?”

“Here’s what you asked me for.” He put his hand into his suit pocket and pulled out a small scrap of paper, handing it to Kirito across the table. “When the investigators told Death Gun…er, Red-Eyed Xaxa…that this was a question from you, he answered it at once. But only under the condition that he be allowed to send a message back. Of course, you have no obligation to hear him out, and of course, we can’t go leaking messages from suspects in the middle of a case, so officially, this never left the department…What do you say? Want to hear it?”

Kirito made a face like he’d just tasted the bitterest coffee ever, but nodded. “Well, since you went to the trouble…”

“Very well. Ahem.” Kikuoka pulled a second memo out of his pocket and looked down at it. “ ‘This is not the end. You don’t have the power to end it. You will realize this very soon. It’s showtime.’ That’s his message.”

“…He really is a crafty bastard.”

Ten minutes had passed since Kikuoka left, waving good-bye. Kirito was grumbling on the walk back to where he had parked his motorcycle.

“Who is that man, anyway? He said he was a ministry official, but…he seemed more like…”

Shino thought he was a very hard person to get a handle on. Kirito shrugged.

“Well, I’m absolutely certain that he’s part of the Ministry of Internal Affairs’ department in charge of monitoring the VR world. For now, at least.”

“For now?”

“I mean, it’s only been two days since everything happened. Don’t you think he’s a little too in the know about the police information? Especially in Japan, where every government department sections itself off?”

“…What are you saying?”

“I think maybe his true affiliation is somewhere else. Maybe he’s in the police department…or maybe—but it couldn’t be…”

“…?”

“I met him here once before, and I trailed after him when he left.”

Shino shot him an exasperated look, but the boy didn’t seem to take any notice.

“There was a huge black car waiting for him in a nearby parking garage. The driver had short hair and a dark suit, and he looked like trouble. I tried my best to follow on my bike, but they might have noticed me… Kikuoka got off in front of Ichigaya Station, and I lost sight of him while I was looking for a place to park the motorcycle.”

“Ichigaya? Not Kasumigaseki?”

“Right. The Ministry of Internal Affairs is in Kasumigaseki…but it’s the Ministry of Defense that’s in Ichigaya.”

“Def…” Shino was speechless. “You mean…the Self-Defense Force?”

“That’s why I said it couldn’t be. I mean, the police are even more ornery with the SDF than the Ministry of Internal Affairs,” Kirito said, shrugging, but something about this struck a chord in Shino’s memory.

“Oh…speaking of him, I was noticing that the lens on Mr. Kikuoka’s glasses seemed…very weak, maybe? Possibly even flat. I didn’t notice any refraction through them.”

“Ooh…interesting,” the boy responded, clearly finding something of note in that revelation.

Shino asked, “But…let’s say he is involved with the SDF. Why would he be doing investigations into VRMMOs? I mean, shouldn’t that be completely out of their jurisdiction?”

“Hmm. Well, from what I’ve heard, the American military has a plan to use full-dive tech for unit training.”

“H-huh?!” Shino exclaimed, stopping in her tracks. Kirito stopped with her and gestured with a hand.

“Yeah, like, for example…Oh, is it okay to…talk about guns?”

“U-um…as long as it’s just talking.”

“Good. Let’s say you were handed a real sniper rifle right now. Could you load it, fire it, and all of that?”

“…”

She thought back to just hours before, when she shot Endou’s Government model gun, and nodded. “I think…I can. If it’s just firing. But I won’t know if I can handle the recoil until I use it myself, and I probably wouldn’t be able to hit the target.”

“Well, I don’t even know how to load a bullet. Think of how economical and safe it would be to learn the basics of operating a weapon in a virtual environment, without burning ammo or fuel.”

“Um…I don’t know…”

She dropped her eyes to look at her hand. What Kirito was talking about was so huge that she couldn’t process it for herself.

“It’s just a possibility. There are tons of different potential uses for full-dive technology that have popped up in just the last year. Anything could happen in the future. I’m just saying, it’s worth keeping an eye out for him,” Kirito said breezily, then approached his motorcycle and undid the U-lock on his rear wheel. He handed one of the two helmets to Shino and started to say something.

“Urm…so…”

“…What?”

“Sinon, do you have some time after this…?”

“I’ve got nothing going on. I’m not logging back in to GGO for a while.”

“I see. Well, if you don’t mind, I could use your help with something…”

“What’s that?”

“Well, it turns out that our little scene in the cave during the BoB final was on the stream…and some of my old SAO companions saw it. They realized that ‘Kirito’ was the same Kirito they knew…so I’d really, really appreciate it if you could help explain to them that what we were doing wasn’t romantic in any way.”

“…Oh?” said Shino, who couldn’t help but crack a grin. She did feel a bit self-conscious thinking about that moment, but it brought her more than a little savage pride to know that the endlessly selfish rogue was getting a taste of his own medicine, answering to what other people thought about him and her.

“I’m surprised they figured out it was you, even with the same name. Even if they were your old friends.”

“Yeah…it was the sword style that gave me away.”

“Ah, I see. Well, fine—but you owe me one. You’ll have to buy me a slice of cake sometime.”

Kirito’s face sank pathetically. “You don’t mean…at that same place?”

“I’m not going to be that heartless.”

“Th-that’s good to hear. Well…can you swing over to Okachimachi with me, then? It won’t take that much time.”

“Oh, it’s just next to Yushima. Right on the way home.”

She took the helmet and stuck it on her head. As Kirito gave her chin-strap assistance again, Shino couldn’t help but rue that she hadn’t just gotten used to helmets in GGO like she ought to.

They went from Chuo Street in Ginza to Showa Street, then headed north for a while, coming across the redevelopment district on the east end of Akihabara Station. The looming silver high-rises brought the sights of Glocken to mind, but when they reached the boundary of Okachimachi, it turned into a very old-fashioned urban sprawl.

The bike puttered along, heading left and right down narrow alleys, before finally stopping outside of a small business. Shino got off the seat and removed her helmet. The dark gleam of the wooden exterior was a bit offputting, and the only thing that identified it as a café was the metal sign of two dice hung above the door. Below that was stamped the words DICEY CAFÉ, the name of the establishment, but the sign on the ugly door said CLOSED.

“…This is it?”

“Yep,” Kirito nodded, extracting his key and pushing right through the door. The door jingled, and the strains of slow-tempo jazz drifted through it.

Shino stepped inside, guided by the fragrant scent of coffee. Though the interior was cramped, the orange-lit, shine-polished wooden interior was full of warmth that eased the weight she’d had on her shoulders.

“Welcome,” boomed a smooth baritone from the counter. It was a large man with chocolate skin. His hardened warrior’s features and bald head were imposing, but the dainty bowtie tucked under the collar of his white shirt added an air of good humor.

There were two guests already in the café, girls wearing school uniforms seated on the stools at the counter. Shino noticed that their jackets were the same color as Kirito’s uniform.

“You’re late!” complained one girl as she hopped off the stool. Her shoulder-length hair was curled slightly inward.

“Sorry, sorry. Our talk with Chrysheight went long.”

“I ate two whole pieces of apple pie. If I get fat, it’s your fault.”

“H-how is that my fault?”

The other girl, whose straight, brown-ish hair hung to midway down her back, just watched their bickering and smiled. Eventually, she got to her feet and broke into the conversation with familiar ease.

“Well, are you going to introduce us or not, Kirito?”

“Oh, yeah…right.”

Prompted by a hand on her back, Shino walked into the middle of the room. She bowed her head, trying to squash the little insects of fear that crawled on her whenever she had to interact with strangers.

“This is the third champion of Gun Gale Online, Shino Asada—aka Sinon.”

“S-stop it,” she protested, but he just laughed and continued the introductions. He pointed out the proactive girl who’d just argued with him.

“This is Rika Shinozaki, better known as Lisbeth, the rip-off blacksmith.”

“Why, you…”

He nimbly evaded the attack of the peeved Rika and extended a hand toward the other girl. “And this is Asuna Yuuki, the berserk healer who normally just goes by ‘Asuna.’”

“Th-that’s mean!” she protested, but never lost her smile. Asuna turned her beautiful, clear eyes toward Shino, and she made a smooth, floaty bow of her head.

“And that over there,” Kirito said, jutting his jaw at the manager behind the bar, “is Agil, better known as Agil the Wall.”

“Why do I have to be ‘the Wall’?! Besides, I have a wonderful name that my mama gave me.”

To her surprise, even the manager was a VRMMO player. He grinned and put a hand to his burly chest. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Andrew Gilbert Mills. The pleasure’s all mine.”

When he said his name, it was in perfectly native pronunciation, but the rest was all fluent Japanese, which caught Shino by surprise. She hastily bowed before it got too awkward.

“C’mon, sit down,” Kirito said, pulling out a chair from one of the pair of four-seat tables in the place. Once Shino, Asuna, and Rika were seated, he snapped his fingers. “Agil, I’ll take a ginger ale. Anything to drink, Sinon?”

“Uh…I’ll have the same.”

“He makes it spicy here,” Kirito said with a smirk, then called out, “Make that two!” to the bar, and folded his hands atop the table.

“So… Liz, Asuna, we’re going to explain exactly what happened on Sunday.”

Even in a digest form, with Kirito and Shino taking turns filling in for the other, it took over ten minutes to go through the events of the BoB and Kikuoka’s further reporting.

“…And the media hasn’t announced anything yet, which is why we didn’t mention any names or details, but that’s pretty much the whole story,” Kirito finished, sinking exhaustedly back into his chair and downing the last of his second glass of ginger ale.

“I don’t know what it is about you…but you always get wrapped up into things that don’t involve you,” Rika said, shaking her head.

But Kirito only looked away. “No, that’s not true in this case. I had a long-ago score to settle with this one.”

“Oh…I see. Man, I wish I could have been there too. I’ve got plenty of things I’d like to say to that Death Gun jerk.”

“And he’s probably not the last one. I think there are more people out there whose souls were warped by their experiences in SAO.”

A gloomy silence settled on the conversation, eventually broken by Asuna’s gentle smile.

“But I think there are others whose souls were saved, like mine. I’m not going to defend SAO, and what the commander did…and many people died there…but I don’t want to deny or regret what happened in those two years.”

“Yeah, good point. If you hadn’t been holding my hand during that last battle with Death Gun, I wouldn’t have been able to pull off that move. It must have been a connection that only existed…because of the years I spent in SAO…”

Shino didn’t understand what he meant. She gave him a confused look, and he abashedly smiled and explained.

“I told you I was diving from a hospital in Ochanomizu the night of the tournament, right? My location was supposed to be a secret, but Asuna here ran Kikuoka up the flagpole to make him give it up.”

“I did no such thing!” she protested, cheeks puffed. He laughed mischievously.

“So she raced from her dive location right here over to the hospital, and…just at the moment I was fighting Death Gun in the desert, she squeezed my hand from the real world side. It’s weird, but…at that exact moment, I felt her hand. That’s the only reason I remembered to draw my Five-Seven, I think.”

“…I see…”

The way he explained that made her wonder if the two were a couple, but she pushed that out of her mind instantly. No one else seemed to pick up on it, though, and Kirito moved on.

“And that’s not all. After I logged out, Asuna taught me that Death Gun’s registered name, ‘Sterben,’ was a German word meaning ‘to die.’ But she said it was only used in Japan by doctors and nurses, and it hit me…You said you were going to contact your friend, the doctor’s son, and I just got a bad feeling about it. I didn’t think the cops would make it in time, so I hopped on my bike and raced to Yushima…though ultimately, I wasn’t able to help…”

This revelation filled Shino with a strange, quiet shock.

“…Sterben. So it wasn’t ‘Steven’…” she whispered, shutting her eyes for an instant. “And in medical terminology, it means ‘to die’…I wonder why he would give himself a name like that.”

“Maybe it was part of a rebellion against his father, the doctor. But I don’t know if the reason is simple enough to sum up like that,” Kirito lamented.

Seated diagonally from him, and directly across from Shino, Asuna said clearly, “You shouldn’t search for anything more than a name in a VRMMO avatar’s handle. It’s more about what you’re missing than what you’re learning.”

Next to her, Rika smiled. “Yes, that sounds very convincing from someone who just uses her real name.”

“Hush!” Asuna said, jabbing Rika with her elbow. Her friend feigned terrible pain. Shino grinned at the lighthearted display, then noticed Asuna was looking right at her. There was a brilliant gleam in her bright brown irises which suggested an inner strength lay behind her reserved nature.

“So…Miss Asada.”

“Er, yes?”

“It might be strange of me to say this, but… I’m sorry you had to be put through that horrible event.”

“Uh…I’m fine,” Shino said hastily, shaking her head. “I think part of this whole incident was something I brought upon myself. Something about my personality, or my play style…or my past. And because of those things, I panicked in the middle of the tournament…and needed Kirito to calm me down. That’s what you saw on the broadcast…”

Kirito shot upright again and quickly added, “R-right, I forgot the most important part. That was an emergency evacuation, you might say. We were being chased by a murderous madman. So don’t get any funny ideas about it.”

“…Well, we can leave it at that. But I’m not sure about what will happen in the future,” Rika grumbled, throwing Kirito a very skeptical glance. Then she clapped her hands together and put on a big smile. “At any rate, it’s great to meet another VRMMO girl in real life.”

“That’s right. I’d like to hear more about GGO, too. Can we be friends, Asada?” Asuna asked with a gentle smile, extending her hand across the table. Shino looked at the white, soft hand…and shrank.

The instant the word friends sank into her heart, she felt a burning craving well up there, as well as a painful sense of unease.

Friends. That was something that she had desired countless times since the incident, only to be horribly betrayed, and swear that she would never seek them again.

I want to be friends. I want to take the hand of this girl named Asuna, who exudes mercy and benevolence, and feel her warmth. I want to be around her, talk about silly things, and do whatever normal girls do.

But if that happened, at some point she would learn that Shino had once killed a person. She would see the blood that stained Shino’s hands. The disgust that would appear in Asuna’s eyes terrified her. Touching others was something she could not experience. Not now, not ever.

Shino’s hand was frozen hard beneath the table, immobilized. Asuna’s eyes grew questioning, inviting an explanation, but Shino just looked down. She thought of just leaving. For the moment, she could at least keep her heart warm with the offer of being friends. She would just apologize and be on her way.

“Sinon.”

The whisper jolted Shino’s frightened, timid wits. She flinched and looked over at Kirito. When their eyes met, he gave her a brief, but clear nod. His eyes were saying it was okay. She turned back to Asuna.

The girl’s smile never wavered, and neither did her outstretched hand. Meanwhile, Shino’s arm felt like it was tied down with lead weights. But she fought against the shackles and slowly, slowly, raised her arm. For the first time since the incident, she decided she would rather bear the pain of trusting others than the bitterness of keeping them at bay so they couldn’t betray her.

The distance to Asuna’s hand was unfathomable. The closer she got, the more dense the wall of air became, as if it was actively repelling Shino’s hand.

But at last, their fingers touched.

The next instant, Shino’s hand melted into Asuna’s. The warmth of it couldn’t be put into words. The gentle conduit of heat passed through her fingers to her arm, shoulder, then her whole body, melting her frozen blood.

“Ah…” Shino gasped, without realizing she had done so. It was so warm. She had forgotten that the human hand could shake one’s soul in this way. In that moment, she felt reality. No longer was she running away from the world in fear, but was connected with true reality at last.

She stayed that way for seconds. Nearly a minute.

Shino noticed that even as she kept smiling kindly, there was a bit of hesitation and uncertainty in Asuna’s expression. She started to automatically pull her hand away, but Asuna squeezed even harder. The other girl spoke slowly and carefully, finding each phrase as it came to her.

“Listen, Asada…Shino. There’s another reason that we had you come here today. We thought you might find it unpleasant…that it might make you angry, but we just…wanted to tell you something.”

“Another reason? That would…make me angry?”

It made even less sense now. To her left, Kirito spoke up in a surprisingly tense voice.

“First, Sinon, I need to apologize to you.” He gave her a very deep bow, and caught her gaze through his bangs with the black eyes he shared with that feminine avatar. “I told Asuna and Liz…about what happened in your past. I needed their help with this.”

“What…?!”

She didn’t even register the latter part of his statement.

They know?! About what happened in the post office? Asuna and Rika already know what I did when I was eleven years old?!

This time, Shino tried to pull her hand out of Asuna’s with all her strength.

But she couldn’t. Asuna gripped her hand with a power that seemed impossible from those delicate arms. Her eyes, expression, and body heat were trying to tell Shino something—but what? What could she possibly want to tell her, knowing about the blood that could never be washed from those hands?

“Shino, as a matter of fact…Liz, Kirito, and I took school off yesterday and went to the city of…”

“!!”

It wasn’t even shock. For several seconds, Shino couldn’t even process what Asuna had said to her.

The girl’s plump, shining lips pronounced the name of a place. The very town that Shino had lived in through her middle school graduation. The place where the incident happened. The place she wanted to forget and never visit again.

Why? How? How?

The questions swirled around her head and escaped her mouth at last.

“But…why would…you…?”

She stood up to escape this place, shaking her head back and forth all the while. But before she could get all the way to her feet, Kirito held her shoulder down. His voice was stern, desperate.

“Because Sinon, you haven’t met someone you ought to meet…You haven’t heard something you ought to hear. I thought it would probably hurt you—I knew it would—but I couldn’t let you stay the way you are. So I went to study the newspaper database about your incident…and I knew the post office wouldn’t understand if I called them, so I went in person to ask for someone’s contact information.”

“Someone I ought…to meet…? I ought to hear…?” she repeated, dazed. Rika caught a look from Kirito and stood up, walking to a door in the back of the room with a PRIVATE sign on it. She opened the door and a person walked out.

It was a woman of about thirty years. Her hair was semilong, her makeup was slight, and her clothes were relaxed. She looked more like a housewife than an office lady.

Little footsteps behind her bore that impression out. A little girl of preschool age trotted out after the woman. They bore a strong resemblance—clearly mother and daughter. But this only increased Shino’s confusion. She had no idea who these people were. She hadn’t met them in Tokyo, and not even in her hometown.

The woman looked at the stunned Shino, beaming with that strange crying look, and bowed deeply. The little girl next to her bowed, too.

It stayed that way for a long time until, prompted by Rika, the family crossed the room to the table where Shino sat. Asuna stood up and allowed the woman and her daughter to sit down on the other side of the table. The bartender, who had been watching the entire scene in silence, swiftly brought out a café au lait for the mother, and a glass of milk for the girl.

Even up close, Shino still didn’t recognize them. Why had Kirito claimed this woman was someone Shino ought to meet? Was he mistaken somehow?

No.

Somewhere deep in her memory, a little spark flashed. This woman was a stranger, so why…?

At that moment, the mother bowed again. She spoke at last, her voice trembling slightly.

“It’s nice to meet you, Miss Asada…Shino, is it? My name is Sachie Oosawa. This is Mizue, age four.”

Once again, the names were unfamiliar. There was no connection between Shino and this family. But her memory continued its faint prickling.

She couldn’t bring herself to respond, or do anything other than stare. Sachie took a deep breath and began to explain.

“I didn’t move to Tokyo until after she was born. Before then, I worked in the city of…”

And then, Shino understood everything.

“…at the Sancho-me Post Office.”

“Ah…”

That was the post office. The place it happened. The little, unremarkable, completely ordinary local post office that Shino and her mother visited five years ago, where she encountered the event that completely changed her life.

The bank robber shot and killed the male employee at the window first, then hesitated, unsure whether to shoot the two female employees behind the counter next, or her mother. Shino interrupted him in a mindless, desperate rage, yanking his gun away and pulling the trigger.

That’s right… Sachie was most definitely one of the two women working in the office at the time.

So that was what it meant. Yesterday, Kirito, Asuna, and Rika went to the post office. They found the address of this woman, who had quit her job and moved to Tokyo, called her, and set up this meeting with Shino today.

She understood that much. But the biggest mystery was still left: Why? Why would they skip school to do this?

“…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Shino,” Sachie blurted out, the corners of her eyes getting teary.

Shino had no idea why she was receiving an apology. But her voice trembling, Sachie continued, “I’m so, so sorry. I…I should have met you sooner. But I just wanted to forget about what happened…and when my husband got a transfer, I took the opportunity to leave for Tokyo… I should have known that you would be tormented this whole time…and I never apologized…or thanked you…”

The tears fell now. Next to her, Mizue looked up at her mother with concern. Sachie stroked the girl’s braided hair.

“When it happened…I was pregnant with her. So you didn’t just save my life, Shino…you saved hers, too. Thank you…thank you so much. Thank you…”

“…I saved…your lives?” Shino repeated.

Eleven-year-old Shino had pulled the trigger three times in that post office, and took a life. That was all she had done. That’s all she ever thought she’d done. But now, at long last, this woman had given her a different answer.

She had saved her.

“Sinon,” came Kirito’s uncertain whisper. “Sinon. You’ve always blamed yourself. You’ve punished yourself. I’m not saying that was a mistake. But at the same time, you have the right to think about those you saved. You have the right to forgive yourself because of that. That’s…what I can give you…”

He shut his mouth tight, unable to find anything else to say. Shino looked away from him and back at Sachie. She knew she ought to say something, but the words would not come. In fact, she didn’t even know what to think.

There was a small tap of feet.

The four-year-old girl hopped off of her chair and came walking around the table. The braids Sachie tied for her shone in the light, and her puffy little pink cheeks and huge eyes were filled with the greatest innocence to be found in the world.

Mizue reached into the pochette slung over her kindergarten uniform blouse and rummaged around for something. It was a piece of drawing paper folded into quarters. She awkwardly unfolded the paper and gave it to Shino.

It was a crayon drawing. In the center was the face of a woman with long hair, beaming. That had to be Sachie, her mother. To the right was a girl with braids—Mizue. The man with glasses on the left was obviously her father.

And at the top, in letters that she’d probably just learned recently, was written “To Miss Shino.”

Mizue held the drawing out with both hands, and Shino accepted it the same way. The little girl smiled and took a deep breath. In an awkward, halting way, she delivered a message that she’d clearly done her best to memorize.

“Miss Shino, thank you, for saving Mama and Mizue.”

Everything she saw was full of rainbow light, blotted and blurred.

It took a bit of time before she realized she was crying. She had never known that there could be tears so gentle and pure and cleansing.

Shino held the drawing tight, big tears dropping from her cheeks one after the other. Suddenly, a tiny, soft hand reached out, hesitantly at first, then eagerly, squeezing her right hand, right on the very spot where the traces of gunpowder had left a permanent mark.

It’ll take a long, long time for me to fully accept everything in my past. But I still love the world I live in now.

Life is painful, and the road ahead is treacherous.

But I can still keep walking down it. I’m sure of that.

I know this, because this hand in mine, and the tears on my cheeks, are warm enough to tell me so.