11

As she stared at the brief message on her phone screen, Asuna repeated a single phrase in her mind, over and over:

That can’t be.

It couldn’t be. Yuuki had been active and assertive in all of their recent activities, and Dr. Kurahashi himself said that her brain lymphoma wasn’t progressing. There were cases of HIV being successfully held at bay for more than twenty years now. And Yuuki was only fifteen…She was supposed to have so much time. This turn for the worse was just another case of opportunistic infection, and she would survive it the way she had before, several times already.

But another part of her knew what it meant. It was the first time the doctor had sent her a message directly. It meant The Time had come—The Time that she had trembled in fear of every night until she convinced herself it wasn’t true.

Asuna froze for several seconds, trapped between two arguing voices, then squeezed her eyes tight. She booted up her mail program, sending a short group message to Kirito, Lisbeth, Siune, and the others of their little group of friends. Once that was done, she changed out of her home wear and automatically chose her school uniform to save her the trouble of picking something out. She raced out of the front door with her shoes barely on, where the gentle afternoon sun reflected bright and white off the remnants of snow on the street and into her eyes.

It was two o’clock on a Sunday at the end of March. Everyone on the street walked slowly, as if savoring the long-awaited arrival of spring. Asuna ran hard toward the station, weaving her way around the pedestrian traffic.

Later, she couldn’t even recall checking the train times and the travel thereof. The next thing she knew, she was racing through the gate of the station closest to Kohoku General Hospital. It felt like the inside of her head was fogged out with a light blur; scattered pieces of thought rose to consciousness and faded.

Hang on, Yuuki, I’m coming, she thought to herself, teeth clenched, as she darted toward a taxi pulling around to the curb outside the station.

Her visit had already been cleared ahead of time at the front desk of the hospital. When Asuna tensely informed the nurse of her reason for visiting, she received a guest card at once and was told to hurry to the top floor of the center ward.

She waited through the elevator trip, impatiently watching the number crawl upward one at a time, then leaped out as soon as the door opened. She practically slammed the card against the security gate sensor and resumed running, knowing that it was terribly bad hospital manners. As she followed the blank white corridor route by memory, the door to Yuuki’s clean room came into view around the final turn.

And she came to a stop, her eyes bulging.

Of the two doors there, the first one was the entrance to the monitoring room. And the one in the back with the huge warnings and caution signs was the door to the air-sealed clean room. It had been, naturally, shut tight when Asuna visited before, but now it was wide open. As she watched helplessly, a nurse in completely ordinary garb quickly approached.

When she saw Asuna, the nurse nodded and whispered, “Inside, hurry,” as she walked past. At this prompt, Asuna took several unsteady steps toward the inner doorway.

Her eyes were stunned by the pure white of the room. The huge array of machines that had filled it before were all pushed up against the left wall. Two nurses and a doctor were standing next to the gel bed in the center of the room, watching over the small figure lying on it. All three were wearing their normal white uniforms.

As soon as she saw this, she understood. It had reached the stage of no return. The Time had come, as was preordained many years ago, and she had no choice but to watch it happen.

Dr. Kurahashi looked up and recognized Asuna immediately. He beckoned her over, and she worked her limp legs just enough to carry her into the room.

It was only a matter of feet to reach the bed, but it felt like an eternity. Asuna struggled onward, each step carving down the distance toward cruel reality, until she stood at the side of the gel bed.

A skinny girl lay there, covered in a white sheet up to her neck, her gaunt chest slowly rising and falling. The EKG over her left shoulder showed a green wave that pulsed weakly.

The rectangular Medicuboid that had covered most of her face before was now split into two parts. The part from her ears upward was tilted backward ninety degrees. The interior was molded into the shape of a human head, and it nestled the face of the sleeping girl.

In real life, Yuuki was painfully emaciated and so pallid she was nearly transparent. But something about her appearance struck Asuna as being almost mysterious in its beauty. It made her believe that if fairies were real, they might look like this.

She watched Yuuki in silence, until eventually Dr. Kurahashi appeared at her side and said quietly, “Good…I’m glad you made it in time.”

Asuna didn’t want to acknowledge the phrase in time. She looked up swiftly and angrily at the doctor, but the intelligent eyes behind his glasses were full of nothing but sympathy. He spoke again.

“Her heart stopped temporarily, forty minutes ago. We were able to regain a pulse with some drugs and the defibrillator, but I’m afraid that…the next time might not…”

Asuna held her breath, then hissed through clenched teeth. But she wasn’t able to form a complete, coherent sentence.

“Why…why is…I mean…I mean, Yuuki still…”

The doctor nodded kindly, then shook his head side to side. “As a matter of fact, when you visited in January, this day could have happened at any time. Between the fever from HIV wasting syndrome and the development of her primary central nervous system lymphoma, Yuuki’s life has been hanging in the balance. She’s been walking on thin ice. But she fought harder than we ever thought possible these last three months. She’s been winning a fight with desperate odds for days and days and days at a time. She’s fought harder than she ever needed to…No, in fact…”

For the first time, his voice broke slightly.

“In fact, these fifteen years of life for Yuuki have been one long, long fight. She’s been fighting not just against HIV…but against cruel, unfeeling reality. I’m certain that the clinical test of the Medicuboid put her through an immeasurable amount of pain. But…she fought through it. If it wasn’t for her, practical usage of the Medicuboid would be at least a year behind where it is now. So let’s allow her to be at peace…”

As he talked, Asuna sent a silent message to her friend.

You won’t let this beat you, Yuuki. I mean, you’re the Absolute Sword…The greatest combatant alive, the girl who can cut anything in two. You won, Yuuki. You beat the disease…and fate…

At that moment, Yuuki’s head twitched. Her pale eyelids fluttered and rose for just a moment. The gray eyes, which were supposedly already blind, took on a clear light and looked straight at Asuna.

Her lips, practically the same color as her skin, moved nearly imperceptibly. Her fragile hand twitched beneath the sheet, slowly, slowly extending toward Asuna.

His voice choked with emotion, the doctor said, “Asuna…take her hand.”

Before the words were all the way out of his mouth, she was reaching out with both hands, enveloping Yuuki’s bony hand in hers. The cold skin squeezed at her fingers, seeking something.

In that instant, Asuna received a revelation. She understood what Yuuki really wanted.

Still holding the girl’s hand, Asuna looked up and quickly asked, “Doctor…can we use the Medicuboid right now?”

“Er, well, if we power it on…But…Yuuki said that she wanted her final moments not to be in the machine…”

“No, Yuuki wants to go back there now. I can tell. Please…let her use the Medicuboid, Doctor.”

He stared at her for several seconds, then acquiesced. He gave a few orders to the nurses, then grabbed the side handle of the Medicuboid and carefully rotated the top half until it covered Yuuki’s face.

“It will take about a minute to power up…What about you?”

“I’ll use the AmuSphere in the room next door!” Asuna said, squeezing Yuuki’s hand one last time before placing it back on the bed. She whispered a brief reassurance and turned away.

Through the clean-room door and into the monitoring station, there was a rear wall with a door in it. She leaped onto one of the two seats in the room beyond that door, picked up the AmuSphere from the headrest, and placed it on her crown. Even as she hit the switch and waited for the start-up sequence, Asuna’s mind was already in that other world.

When she awoke in the log cabin, she jumped out the window and flew toward the city at max speed, the same way she’d done the last time she logged in from the hospital. As she flew, she opened her window and sent messages to Lisbeth, Siune, and the others, who she had on standby just in case.

Upon flying through the teleport gate, she immediately called out for Panareze. No sooner had she appeared in the lake-bound city than she buzzed away in the direction of the little island. Toward the foot of the tree where they first met.

It was evening in Aincrad. The setting sun shining through the outer walls lit the lake surface gold. She followed that band of golden light to the air over the little island, went into a steep descent, and landed on the soft grass.

There was no need to search around the tree this time. Yuuki was standing at the exact spot where they had traded blows, what seemed like so very long ago. The imp swordsman turned slowly, the chilly air rustling her long, dark hair.

When she saw Asuna approaching, Yuuki grinned. Asuna returned it.

“Thank you, Asuna. I forgot one very important thing. I wanted to give you something. So I was hoping to meet you here one last time.”

Her voice was as cheery as ever, but with just the faintest hint of a quaver. Asuna understood that it was taking all of the energy Yuuki had left to stand here and talk to her.

She strode over to Yuuki and said, just as brightly, “What is it? What do you want to give me?”

“Well…Hang on, I’m going to make it now,” Yuuki said, grinning. She opened her window and briefly fiddled with it. When it closed, she drew the sword at her waist. The obsidian blade seemed to burn in the setting sun. She held it out straight in front of her, facing the trunk of the tree. She paused there, stilled. It was as if she were gathering her last bit of strength into the point of the sword.

Her side profile twisted in agony. Her upper half swayed, but her legs were spread wide for balance, and they held firm.

She wanted to say that it was okay, that there was no need. But Asuna just bit her lip and watched instead. A breeze rustled the grass, then stopped. That was when Yuuki moved.

“Yaah!”

With a ripping cry, her left hand flashed. Five thrusts into the tree trunk, from right down to left. The sword zoomed back, then thrust five more times from left down to right. There was an explosion with each thrust, and the sky-splitting tree shook to its core. It would have been broken in half without a doubt, if it wasn’t designated an indestructible part of the scenery.

With ten thrusts finished, Yuuki’s body tensed again, and her blade darted at the intersection of the two lines. Blue-purple light shot in all directions, spraying the grass at her feet outward in a circle.

Even when the gust of wind had subsided, Yuuki stayed still, with the point of her sword touching the trunk. Then a small, rotating crest appeared around the point. A square piece of parchment was generated right out of the surface of the tree, absorbing the glowing blue crest and rolling itself up tight into a scroll.

Yuuki pulled the sword away, leaving the finished scroll floating in midair. She slowly reached out and took it.

With a faint clank, the sword dropped into the grass. Then Yuuki’s body tilted and collapsed. Asuna rushed over and propped her up, crouching and picking up the little body with both arms.

Asuna was startled at first to see that Yuuki’s eyes were closed, but the lids lifted soon after. Yuuki smiled serenely and whispered, “It’s weird…I’m not in any pain at all, but I just feel weak…”

The older girl grinned back and said, “It’s all right, you’re just tired. You’ll feel better if you get some rest.”

“Yeah…Asuna…take this…It’s my…OSS…”

Unlike just a moment ago, her voice was halting and broken. Realizing that Yuuki’s final refuge—that the brain that kept her consciousness attached to the game—was losing its last bits of strength, Asuna felt a storm of emotions rip through her heart, but she suppressed them and smiled once again.

“You’re really giving it to me…?”

“I want you…to have it…Now…open your window…”

“…Okay.”

Asuna waved her left hand to call up the menu, then opened the OSS settings window. With the scroll trembling in her hand, Yuuki placed it against the surface of the floating screen. The parchment vanished in a twinkle of light, and Yuuki sighed in relief and dropped her hand. With an uneven smirk, she just barely croaked out, “The name…of the attack…is ‘Mother’s Rosario’…I’m sure…that it…will keep you…safe…”

At long last, the tears Asuna had been keeping at bay broke forth and spilled on Yuuki’s chest. She never lost her smile, though, and said clearly, “Thank you, Yuuki. I promise: If the time ever comes that I leave this world for another, I will give this attack to someone else. Your sword…will never, ever be lost.”

“Yeah…thanks…”

Yuuki nodded. Her amethyst eyes were wet and shining.

At that moment, a number of faint vibrations—the sounds of fairy flight—came into hearing range. They grew louder and louder, until eventually a series of boots hit the nearby grass. Asuna looked up to see Jun, Tecchi, Talken, Nori, and Siune approaching.

They formed a circle around Yuuki and fell to their knees. Yuuki looked at the group and smiled with consternation. “Come on…I thought we had our…farewell party already. You promised…not to…see me off…”

“We’re not seeing you off, we’re lighting a fire under you. We don’t want our leader moping while she waits for us in the next world,” Jun said, smirking. He squeezed Yuuki’s hand in his burnished gauntlets. “Don’t wander around when you get there, just wait. We’ll be there before you know it.”

“Don’t…be silly…I’ll be mad…if you show up…too soon.”

Nori clicked her tongue to chide Yuuki and declared, “Nope! You’re totally helpless without us around, Boss. You’ve got to be a good girl and wa…wait…”

Suddenly, Nori’s face crumpled, and tears began falling from her big black eyes. A few sobs tore their way out of her throat.

“Don’t do this, Nori…We promised we wouldn’t cry…” Siune said with a smile, but there were two gleaming tracks on her cheeks as well. Talken and Tecchi joined in by grabbing Yuuki’s hands, not even trying to hide their tears.

She looked around at her friends, put on a brave, tear-streaked face, and said, “Oh, fine…you guys…I’ll be waiting…so just…take your time…”

The six Sleeping Knights all held hands in a ritual promise of understanding that they would meet again one day. Just as the other members of the team were getting back to their feet, the fresh humming of more wings approached.

This time it was Kirito, Yui, Lisbeth, Leafa, and Silica. They were running over as soon as they landed, joining the circle around Yuuki and taking turns clasping her hands.

As she cradled Yuuki in her arms and watched the scene through blurred eyes, Asuna noticed something odd. Even after this fresh group arrived, the buzzing of wings did not cease. And it wasn’t one pair—it was a veritable pipe organ medley of countless wings belonging to all the fairy races.

Asuna, Yuuki, Siune, Lisbeth, and all the others looked up into the sky. There they saw an especially thick ribbon stretching toward them from the direction of Panareze.

Dozens of players were flying together in a great line. At the lead, her long robe trailing in the air, was Lady Sakuya, leader of the sylphs. Behind her was a retinue of her fellow people, all clad in various shades of green. Based on the number, it had to be nearly the entire population of sylph players currently logged in to the game.

And they weren’t just coming from the town. From all directions of circular Aincrad, a variety of colored bands was descending toward the little island. The red ribbon was the salamanders and the yellow was the cait siths. Imps, gnomes, undines…battalions of player races, led by their lord and ladies, were heading straight for the tree. There had to be at least five hundred…if not a thousand.

Yuuki gasped in wonder from her position in Asuna’s arms. “Wow…it’s incredible…Look at all…those fairies…”

Asuna beamed down at her and said, “I’m sorry, Yuuki. I figured you wouldn’t like it…but I asked Liz to call for all of them to come anyway.”

“I wouldn’t like it? That’s not…true at all…But…but why so many, all at once? I feel like…I’m dreaming…” she rasped. Meanwhile, the swarm of warriors hovering and descending onto the island was causing a roar of sound akin to a waterfall. The big groups, led by Sakuya, Alicia, and the other leaders gave Asuna’s little group some breathing room as they took positions, kneeled on the grass, and bowed their heads in respect. The tiny island was soon completely covered by players.

Asuna stared into Yuuki’s eyes and tried to put the emotions filling her chest into words.

“I mean…I mean…” The tears dripped again. “Yuuki…You’re the greatest fighter to ever set foot on this world…We’ll never see another person like you again. We can’t just let you go off feeling lonely. Everyone here is praying for you…Praying that your new journey takes you somewhere just as wonderful as this.”

“…I’m so happy…So, so happy…” Yuuki said, lifting her head so she could survey the crowd around them, then falling back against Asuna’s arms again. She closed her eyes, her tiny chest taking several deep breaths, then opened them to stare at Asuna with those purple eyes. She sucked in deep, and with the last bit of her strength remaining, managed to squeeze out more words.

“I’ve…always wondered. If I were born into this world just to die…then why do I exist at all…? I can’t create anything or provide anything…I just waste all these fancy drugs and machines…and make things harder for the people around me…And that just makes me feel worse…So I thought, over and over…if I’m meant to just vanish in the end…I ought to just disappear right now…I always wondered…why I am…alive…”

The very last drop of fuel that powered Yuuki’s life was burning up before their eyes. The little body in Asuna’s arms grew lighter and seemingly transparent. Her voice was so frail and halting, but the words she spoke hit Asuna in the center of her soul like no other words ever had.

“But…you see…I think I finally…found the answer…You don’t need…a meaning…you just live…I mean…just look at how…fulfilling my final…moment is…Surrounded by…so many people…in the arms of…someone I love…at the end of my…journey…”

Her words ended on a short breath. Her eyes saw through Asuna, yearning for some place far, far away. Perhaps she really was heading for another realm—the true isle of fairies where the souls of heroes went to rest.

Asuna couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. The drops spilled from her face and sparkled in the light on Yuuki’s chest, but a smile rose to the girl’s lips without prompting. Asuna nodded deeply and gave Yuuki her final message.

“I…I promise that I will see you again. In a different place, in a different world, I will come across you again…And when I do…you can tell me what you found…”

In that moment, Yuuki’s purple eyes caught Asuna’s. For a single instant, deep within them, there was a brilliance of unlimited life and courage, just like when they’d first met. That light turned into two drops that overflowed, spilled down Yuuki’s white cheeks, and vanished into a spark of light.

Her lips barely budged, forming a smile. Inside her head, Asuna heard the voice:

I did my best to live…I lived here…

Like the last flake falling upon a pristine field of snow, Yuuki the Absolute Sword closed her eyes.