25

The air had a smell.

That, more than my continued consciousness, was the first surprise.

There was an enormous amount of information flowing into my olfactory glands. The piercing odor of disinfectant. The sunny scent of dry cotton. Sweet fruit. And my own body.

I slowly opened my eyes. The powerful beam of light seemed to pierce the back of my brain, and I quickly squeezed my eyelids shut.

After a while, I slowly opened them again. There was an interplay of various colors. Belatedly, I realized that it was fluid blocking my sight. I blinked, trying to clear it away, but the fluid kept coming. Tears.

I was crying. Why? There was a sharp pain in my chest that told of deep, agonizing loss. I felt as though I could hear someone calling out from a distance. I squinted against the light and tried to brush away the tears.

It seemed that I was lying on top of something soft. I could see what looked like a ceiling. There was a grid of off-white panels, and some of them were glowing, lit by something behind them. There was a metallic slit in the side of my vision. Probably a respirator. It was emitting air with a low groaning sound.

…A respirator. A machine. That shouldn’t be here. Even the most proficient blacksmith couldn’t fashion a machine. And even if it really was what it appeared to be, in Aincrad there was no electricity to—

This wasn’t Aincrad.

I opened my eyes. That train of thought had finally woken me up. I tried to bolt upward—

But my body wouldn’t listen. I had no strength. I raised my shoulder a few inches but immediately sank back down, pathetically weak.

I could move my right hand, though. I drew it out of the light blanket that had been placed over my body, raising it in front of my face.

For a moment, I couldn’t believe that the startlingly thin limb in front of me was actually my own. This bony thing could never swing a sword. When I looked closely at the sickly pale skin, I saw countless soft, downy hairs. Purplish veins were visible beneath the surface, and fine wrinkles bunched around the joints. It was so incredibly realistic. In fact, it was so…biological…that it didn’t feel right.

Some kind of injection catheter was fixed into the inner joint of my elbow. A thin cord ran out and up into a clear packet on the left, hung on a silver mounting rack. The packet was about 70 percent full of an orange liquid, dripping with a steady rhythm through a nozzle into the tube.

I moved my left hand, which was splayed next to my body, trying to find some sensation in it. I seemed to be lying on a bed made of some kind of high-density gel material. It felt slightly cooler than my body temperature, chilly and wet to the touch. I was naked, directly on top of it. A long-lost memory came back to me: a news segment from years ago, describing a product just like this one, a new development for patients who were bedridden for long periods of time. It protected against skin inflammation and broke down bodily waste.

I tried looking around now. The room was small, the walls the same off-white as the ceiling. There was a large window on the right with white curtains. I couldn’t see beyond them, but the yellow-tinged light passing through the material seemed to be sunlight. At the left foot of the gel bed was a metal tray cart, on top of which lay a rattan cage. A large bouquet of flowers in subdued colors was placed inside the cage—this must be the source of the sweet scent. Behind the cart was a square door. It was shut.

Based on the information I’d just gleaned, this must be a hospital room. I was lying in it, all alone.

I focused again on my right hand, still in the air. On a whim, I held my index and middle fingers together and swiped downward.

Nothing happened. No sound effects, no menu window. I tried it again, harder this time. And again. Nothing happened.

Which meant this wasn’t SAO. Another virtual world perhaps?

But the overwhelming amount of sensory information I was picking up spoke urgently of another possibility: the real world. The one I’d left two years ago, the one I thought I’d never see again.

The real world…It took me quite some time to fathom what that truly meant. For years, the world of swords and battle was my reality. It was hard to believe that world was gone, that I was no longer there.

I was back.

But there was no rush of emotion or joy with that realization. Only confusion and a faint sense of loss.

This was my reward for beating Kayaba’s game. Even though I’d died, turned to nothingness, accepted my fate, and even felt satisfied with it.

That’s right—I was fine with it all ending there. In the midst of that fierce light, I’d disintegrated, evaporated, become one with the world, with her…

“Ah…”

The sound tumbled out. There was a sharp pain in my throat; I hadn’t used it in two years. But I wasn’t even aware of that. I opened my eyes wide, trying to mouth the word, the name that came to me.

“A…su…na…”

Asuna. The pain that burned deep in my chest came back. Asuna, my beloved, my wife, the woman who had stood at the end of the world with me…

Was it a dream? A beautiful illusion I’d witnessed in an artificial world? For a moment, I wasn’t sure.

No, she was real. We’d laughed together, cried together, fallen asleep together—those things weren’t a dream. Kayaba had said, “Congratulations on beating the game, Kirito and Asuna.” I heard him say her name. If I was included among the players who survived, Asuna must be as well.

The moment I realized this, my love and overwhelming longing for her exploded within me. I want to see her. I want to touch her hair. I want to kiss her. I want to hear her voice.

I summoned all the strength I could and tried to sit up. For the first time, I realized that my head was being held in place. I felt under my chin and unlocked a tough harness I found there. There was something heavy on my head. Using both hands, I was able to pull it off.

Once in a full sitting position, I looked at the object in my hands. It was a streamlined helmet in navy blue. Cables the same shade of blue extended from the long pad on the back of the helmet and down to the floor.

It was a NerveGear. This is what kept me connected to that world for two years. The unit was powered off. If memory served, there were gleaming lights that lined the outside when it was running, but now it was dark, the edges of the helmet flaking off and the alloy base exposed.

Inside it was all the memory of that world. I stroked the front of the gear, lost in thought.

I’ll probably never wear you again. But you were good to me…

I laid the headgear down on the bed. At this point, my struggles with it were just a memory of the distant past. There were things for me to do here now.

It seemed like there was a commotion in the distance. I focused my ears, and as though my hearing was finally coming back to normal, various sounds jumped out at me.

I could hear a great number of people talking and yelling. Footsteps thumped hastily outside the door, and gurney wheels clattered by.

I didn’t know if Asuna was in this hospital. The people playing SAO were from all over Japan, so the probability that she would just so happen to be in this building was slim at best. But this is where I’d start. No matter how long it took, I would find her.

I ripped off the thin blanket. There were countless cords attached all over my gaunt body. The electrodes on my limbs were probably meant to stimulate the muscles to prevent atrophy. I painstakingly removed each one. Orange lights on a bedside panel flashed on, and a high-pitched alarm sounded, but I ignored it.

I pulled out the IV, then swung my legs to the floor, finally free. Slowly and gently, I tried to stand. Quavering, I managed to support my weight at first, but my knees soon gave way. I had to laugh. I could really use that strength stat again.

On my second attempt, I was able to stay on my feet by leaning on the IV stand for support. I looked around the room, then spotted a patient’s gown on the lower shelf of the cabinet that held the flowers.

Just the act of putting it on left me breathless. My limbs, which had been still for two entire years, were all screaming in protest. But I couldn’t give up now.

Faster, faster, I told myself. My entire body needed her. My fight would not end until the moment I could hold Asuna in my arms again.

I gripped the metal stand like my trusty sword, giving it my weight, taking the first step to the door.

(The End—Sword Art Online, Volume 1)