Chapter 1

Clak, clok.

The unfinished rocking chair rattled pleasantly on the porch.

Gentle late-autumn light filtered through the cypress

branches. Off the distant lake blew a slight breeze.

She was dozing gently, her cheek resting on my chest. Her

breath was slow.

Time passed drip by drip, golden with serenity.

Clak, clok.

As I set the chair to rock, I stroked her soft chestnut hair. Even

in her sleep, a faint smile played across her lips.

A few juvenile squirrels frolicked in the front yard. A pot of

stew was bubbling back in the kitchen. Life in this tiny house

deep in the woods was so tranquil and easy. I wished it would last

forever, but I knew it couldn't.

Clak, clok.

With every creak of the rocking chair, another grain of time

fell.

I clutched her tighter to my chest, trying to resist that inevitable passage.

My arms embraced nothing but empty air.

My eyes flew open with a start. An instant earlier, our bodies

had been touching, but she'd disappeared like a lie. I rose and

looked around.

The sunset was growing radically darker moment by moment,

as though it were a stage effect in a theater. The creeping night

turned the forest black.

I stood up into the wind, blowing colder than before, and

called out her name.

There was no answer. She was not in the front yard, now devoid of any critters, nor was she in the kitchen.

Somehow, the house was completely surrounded in darkness

now. Like a children's pop-up book, the walls and furniture of the

little cabin fell flat against the ground and vanished. Soon, the

only things around me were the rocking chair and the night. The

chair kept rocking back and forth, without anyone in it.

Clak, clok.

Clak, clok.

I shut my eyes, covered my ears, and screamed her name with

every ounce of strength I had.

That scream was so powerful and real that even after I bolted

awake, I couldn't be sure if I'd screamed aloud or if it was only in

my dream.

I closed my eyes again in the vain hope of returning to that

dream's happy beginning, but eventually I had to give up the dark

and open my eyes.

It was not the white panels of a hospital room but walls with

narrow wooden boards that came into my vision. The bed, too,

wasn't made of an advanced gel material, but a mattress with cot-

ton sheets. There were no IV drips stuck into my arms.

This is my—This is Real World Kazuto Kirigaya's bedroom.

I sat up and looked around. The room had authentic wood

flooring, a rarity in this day and age. There were only three pieces

of furniture: a simple computer desk, a wall rack, and my pipeframe bed.

The rack was the kind that tilts to lean against the wall. Sitting

on the middle shelf was a piece of headgear in a faded navy blue.

A NerveGear.

This was the full-dive VR interface that had trapped me in a

virtual world against my will for two whole years. It was only after

a long and terrible battle that I was released to see, touch, and

feel the real world again.

I was back.

But the girl who'd swung her sword at my side, who'd shared

her heart with mine…

I squeezed my eyes shut, turning away from the NerveGear,

and got to my feet. I looked in the mirror placed on the other side

of the bed. The electroluminescent panel embedded in the mirror

placed the date and time just above the reflection of my face.

Sunday, January 9th, 2025, 7:15 AM.

Two months had passed since I'd returned to the real world,

but I still wasn't used to my appearance. My old form as Kirito

the swordsman and my real self, Kazuto Kirigaya, bore the same

face. But I still hadn't regained the weight I'd lost, and the bony

body beneath my T-shirt was frail.

I noticed in the mirror two shining tear tracks on my cheeks,

and I reached up to wipe them away.

"Look at me, Asuna. I'm such a crybaby now."

Muttering, I walked to the south end of the room and the large

window there. With both hands, I cast open the curtains and let

the wan sun of a winter morning dye the room's insides pale yellow.

Suguha Kirigaya strode across the frosty lawn making pleasant

crunching sounds.

Yesterday's snow had almost entirely disappeared, but the

mid-January morning air was still cold enough to bite.

She stopped at the bank of the pond, frozen over with a thin

film of ice, and let the shinai—her bamboo kendo sword—rest

against the trunk of a black pine. Suguha inhaled deeply to banish

the last remnants of sleep from her body, then put her hands on

her knees to begin stretching.

She gently, slowly loosened the muscles resisting the call to

wake. Toes, Achilles tendons, calves—the blood flowed faster into

each in turn, bringing forth telltale prickling.

She put her hands together and stretched them straight down,

and when her waist was fully bent over, she stopped dead still. As

she arched over the pond, the smooth surface of the morning's

fresh ice reflected her figure.

Suguha had cut her hair straight across, just above the eyebrows and the shoulders. It was so black that it almost had a

bluish tinge. The ice showed her a girl with brows equally black

and thick and large, confident eyes that gave her a boyish air.

Particularly when you considered her outfit: an old-fashioned

white dogi with black hakama bottom.

It's true…He and I really don't look alike…

It was a thought that occurred to her often these days. It

popped into her head every time she looked in the mirror in a

bathroom or the foyer of their house. She didn't hate the way she

looked, and she wasn't particularly disposed to caring about such

things, but now that her brother, Kazuto, was living at home

again, she couldn't help but compare them.

No use thinking about this.

Suguha shook her head and resumed stretching.

When she was finished, she grabbed the bamboo sword off the

pine tree. She gripped the old, familiar handle, letting it sink into

her hands, and then straightened her back, hands at stomach

height.

She held her breath and pose—and, with a sharp cry, swung

the blade straight downward. Several sparrows took off from the

branches over her head, startled by the disturbance of the morning air.

The Kirigaya home was an old-fashioned Japanese house in the

southern region of Saitama Prefecture, a former castle town that

still featured many of its archaic sights. Their family line could be

traced back many generations, and Suguha's late grandfather,

who had died four years ago, was a strict man of the old ways.

He had served on the police force for many years and was said

to be quite a kendo practitioner when he was young. He was hoping for the same from his only son—Suguha's father. But her father only swung the shinai until high school before transferring

to an American college. Once out of school, he went straight to

work for a multinational securities company. He met her mother,

Midori, after getting a transfer to the Japanese branch, but his

work still took him back and forth over the Pacific constantly. As

a result, her grandfather's fierce passion was typically directed at

herself and Kazuto.

Suguha and her brother were enrolled in a local kendo dojo at

the same time they entered elementary school. Kazuto seemed to

be influenced more by Midori's job as the editor of a computing

magazine—he loved the keyboard more than the sword, and he'd

quit within two years. But Suguha, who was only placed in the

dojo to keep her brother company, took to kendo quite easily, and

she still practiced it now, even after her grandfather was gone.

Suguha was fifteen. Last year, she'd placed among the top in

the country at her final middle school kendo meet, and she'd already earned a recommendation to one of the premier schools in

the prefecture for kendo.

But…

Suguha had never struggled with her direction in the past. She

loved kendo, and it made her happy to please others and meet

their expectations.

But ever since the incident that shocked Japan and stole her

brother two years ago, a seed of doubt had grown within her, one

she could not remove. You might call it regret—regret that she

had not tried harder to fill the deep, wide gap that grew between

them when Kazuto quit kendo when she was seven.

After leaving kendo behind, her brother had taken to computers as though slaking an unquenchable thirst. As an elementary

school student, he'd built his own machine out of spare parts,

even doing some rudimentary programming with their mother's

guidance. To Suguha, he might as well have been speaking a different language.

Of course, she'd learned how to use a computer at school and

even had one of her own in her room, but the most she used it for

was e-mail and web browsing. She didn't understand the world

her brother lived in. The online RPGs he played were even more

baffling. She couldn't fathom ever wanting to wear a mask to hide

herself and playing along with other masked people.

When they were much, much younger, Suguha and Kazuto

had been closer than friends. But when he'd ventured off to this

strange world she didn't understand, Suguha filled that sense of

loss and loneliness with kendo. Yet the more she swung her

sword, the less they talked and the further apart they grew, until

that became the normal state of things.

But deep down, Suguha still felt that loneliness. She wanted to

spend more time with her brother. She wanted to understand his

world, and she wanted him to see her compete.

Before she could bring herself to talk to him, the Incident had

happened.

The game of nightmares, Sword Art Online. The minds of ten

thousand young Japanese had been trapped in an electronic

prison, asleep to the outside world.

Kazuto had been taken to a large hospital in the city of

Saitama. On the first day that Suguha went to see him, surrounded by cords in that hospital bed with the hateful apparatus

stuck on his head, she'd cried uncontrollably for the first time in

her life. She clung to her brother, wailing and bawling.

She might never talk to him again. Why hadn't she tried to

close the distance between them? It shouldn't have been that

hard. It should have been possible.

That was when she'd begun reconsidering in earnest her reasons for doing kendo. But no amount of agonized deliberation

brought her an answer. She turned fourteen, then fifteen, without

her brother. She moved on to high school, following the path others laid out for her, but she never once was certain that she was

moving in the right direction.

If he came back, she would talk to him in earnest. She would

reveal all her anxieties and indecision and ask for his advice. And

two months ago, a miracle had occurred. He broke the shackles of

his own accord and came back.

But much had changed between them by this time. Suguha's

mother had revealed that Kazuto was not actually her brother but

her cousin.

Her father, Minetaka, was an only child, and Midori's only sister had died at a young age, so Suguha had no concept of cousins.

When she suddenly learned that Kazuto was the son of her

mother's sister, she couldn't immediately grasp the distance of

that distinction. Part of her felt he was infinitely more distant,

and part of her thought there was no difference at all. She still

couldn't put her relationship with Kazuto into words.

But…no. There was one thing that had changed…

Suguha swung her sword sharper than before, trying to jolt

herself away from that train of thought before it took root. She

was afraid of where that would lead her, so she focused her mind

on the sensations of her body and kept swinging.

By the time she finished her allotted number of swings, the

angle of the morning sun was quite different. She wiped away the

sweat on her brow as she put down the shinai, and then turned to

see…

"Ah…"

Suguha froze the instant she looked back to the house.

At some point, Kazuto had sat down on the edge of the porch,

clad in sweats, watching her. When their eyes met, he smiled and

said, "Morning."

He tossed her a small bottle of mineral water, and she caught

it with her left hand.

"G-good morning. You should have said something if you were

watching."

"You looked so serious, I didn't want to disturb you."

"Trust me, it's all automatic to me at this point…"

Suguha was secretly pleased that they'd been able to manage

easy conversations like this naturally over the last two months,

but she still sat at an awkward distance from him. She set down

the shinai and twisted the cap off the bottle, feeling the cold

water permeate her flushed body as it passed her lips.

"Yeah, I guess so. You've been doing it this entire time…"

Kazuto picked up her shinai and gave it a quick swing, still sitting down. He looked instantly perplexed.

"Too light…"

"Huh?" Suguha pulled away from the bottle to stare at him.

"That's a true bamboo blade, so it's on the heavy side. The carbon

fiber ones are almost two ounces lighter."

"Oh, right. I meant, uh…comparatively speaking."

He suddenly snatched the bottle of water from her hands and

downed the rest of it in one mouthful.

"Hey…" She felt her cheeks burn and questioned him in order

to hide it. "Compared to what?"

He didn't answer, placing the bottle on the porch and getting

to his feet. "Say, you wanna have a go?"

She looked up at him, dumbfounded. "Have a go? Like…a

match?"

"Exactly."

Kazuto never had much of an interest in kendo, but he spoke

as though the idea were commonplace.

"With all the equipment and everything…?"

"Hmm, I guess we could try holding back at the last moment…

but I'd hate to see you get hurt, Sugu. We still have Grandpa's old

gear, right? Let's do it in the dojo."

Suguha quickly forgot her confusion and trepidation over his

sudden idea, and a grin crossed her lips.

"Are you sure? It's been a while for you, hasn't it? And you

want to face one of the national quarterfinalists? Will there be

any contest? Besides…" She looked concerned. "Can your body

handle it? You shouldn't push yourself…"

"Heh! I gotta show off the results of all that muscle-building

rehab."

He smirked and began trotting off to the building around the

back of the house. Suguha hurried after him.

The Kirigaya family plot was larger than it had any right to be,

and to the east of the main house was a small but cozy dojo. Their

grandfather's will had made it absolutely clear that the building

was not to be torn down, so Suguha used it for her everyday practice, and it was therefore well maintained.

They stepped into the dojo barefooted, performed the customary bow, and started preparing for their duel. Fortunately, their

late grandfather had been about Kazuto's size, so he found a set of

armor that, while dusty, was a good fit for him. They finished

tightening the strings on their helmets at the same time and faced

each other in the center of the room. Another bow.

Suguha rose from the formal kneeling position and held her

beloved shinai at mid-level. Kazuto, meanwhile…

"What's that supposed to be, big brother?"

The moment Suguha saw Kazuto's stance, she burst out chuckling. It was absolutely bizarre. His left foot was extended forward,

his right foot back. His waist was crouched, the tip of the shinai

in his right hand nearly touching the floorboards, while his left

hand was merely placed on the hilt.

"If there were a judge here, he'd totally chew you out!"

"Good thing there isn't. This is my own personal style."

Suguha resumed her position in disbelief. Kazuto spread his

feet even farther, lowering his center of gravity.

Just as she steeled her back foot for a forward pounce that

would easily catch his helpless helmet, Suguha hesitated.

Kazuto's stance was preposterous, but there was a kind of ease

about it. His defense appeared full of easily exploitable holes, but

she felt she couldn't just charge forward without caution. It was

as though he was utilizing a stance he'd practiced for years and

years…

But that couldn't be right. Kazuto had only practiced kendo for

two years, from age seven to eight. He wouldn't have learned any-

thing but the very basics.

He suddenly sprang into motion, as though sensing her hesitation. Kazuto slid forward, still low, his shinai springing upward

from the right. His speed itself wasn't surprising, but the motion

was, and Suguha was caught flat-footed. She could only act on reflex.

"Teya!!"

From her open right foot, she swung down at Kazuto's left

gauntlet. Her timing was perfect—or it would have been if she

hadn't hit empty air.

His dodge was impossible. Kazuto pulled his left hand off the

hilt of the shinai and pulled it in close to his body. That shouldn't

be possible. Now his shinai shot forward at Suguha's exposed helmet. She craned her neck hastily to avoid it.

They circled around and pulled back to allow a space between

them. Suguha's mind had switched to a different mode altogether. There was a pleasant, familiar tension present, all the

blood in her body threatening to boil. This time it was her turn to

attack. She unleashed her best, a "kote men" strike from gauntlet

to helmet—

But Kazuto evaded it cleanly once again. He pulled back his

arm, twisted his body, and avoided the point of her blade by the

width of a hair. Secretly, Suguha was shocked. She was known on

her team for the quickness of her strikes, and she couldn't remember the last time she'd missed on multiple attacks in such a

spectacular manner.

Now she struck powerfully, in full attack mode. The tip of her

sword flashed at breathless speed. But Kazuto dodged each and

every strike. Glancing at his eyes through the helmet's mask, Suguha thought that he saw every one with perfect precision.

Irritated, she came in close to catch hilt on hilt. The pressure

of Suguha's powerful legs and core pushed Kazuto off-balance.

Without missing a beat, she unleashed a powerful overhead blow.

"Yaaah!!"

By the time she came to her senses, it was too late. The uncompromising swing caught Kazuto flush on the center of his

mask. A high-pitched thwack echoed through the dojo.

He stumbled backward several steps until he managed to regain

his balance.

"Oh my gosh, are you okay?" she cried, but he waved a hand in

easy reassurance.

"Wow…I give. You're really tough, Sugu. Heathcliff's got nothing on you."

"Are you sure you're all right…?"

"Yeah. Let's call it a day, though."

Kazuto took several steps backward and did something even

more bizarre. He whipped the shinai back and forth, then attempted to place it over his back. The next moment, he froze,

then scratched the outside of his helmet. Now Suguha was really

worried.

"Are you sure that blow to your head didn't…?"

"N-no, no! It's an old habit." He slumped down to his knees

and began untying his guards.

They left the dojo together and headed for the wash station

outside the house, splashing water onto their faces to rinse away

the sweat. The duel's transition from good fun to deadly serious

had left them both feeling plenty warm.

"You really caught me by surprise back there. When did you

get to practice like that?"

"Well, my step is good, but the attack still isn't up to snuff. It's

a lot harder to re-create those sword skills without system assistance," he muttered cryptically. "Still, that was a lot of fun. Maybe

I should pick up kendo again."

"Really? Really, really?!"

Suguha hadn't meant for it to sound that excited. She could

tell her face had lost its composure.

"Can you teach me, Sugu?"

"O-of course! Let's do kendo again!"

"Once I put more muscle back on."

Kazuto ruffled her hair, and she grinned. Just the thought of

them having practice together again nearly brought her to tears

with joy.

"Um, hey, big brother, guess what?"

Suguha didn't know why he had suddenly decided to pick up

kendo again, but in her excitement, she was about to reveal her

new hobby to him. But abruptly thought better of it and clammed

up.

"What?"

"Um, never mind. It's still a secret!"

"Whatever, weirdo."

They walked in the back door of the house, drying their heads

off with large towels. Their mother, Midori, always slept until

noon-ish, so breakfast was usually Suguha's job, though Kazuto

helped alternate now.

"I'm gonna hop in the shower. What're you up to today?"

"Oh…I'm going to…the hospital…"

"…"

She'd asked the question without thinking, and now Suguha's

buoyant spirits returned to earth a bit.

"Ah, right. You're going to see her."

"Yep…It's the only thing I can do…"

It was about a month ago that Kazuto had told her he'd found his

beloved in that other world. They'd been sitting against the wall,

side by side, in his room, holding coffee mugs as he told the story

in bits and pieces. In the past, Suguha would never have believed

you could fall in love with someone in a virtual world. But now,

she felt like she understood. What really struck her was the faint

glimpse of tears she saw welling in his eyes as he spoke.

They'd been together until the very final moment, Kazuto said.

They were supposed to return to the real world hand in hand. But

only he came back. She was still sleeping. No one could explain

what had happened to her—what was still happening to her. He

had visited her in the hospital for three straight days.

Suguha tried to imagine Kazuto sitting at the bedside of his

lover, holding her hand, silently calling her name, as she had

done to him. Every time she did, she was struck with an indescribable emotion; it was a sharp twinge, striking deep in her

heart. Her breathing grew painful. It made her want to hold herself and fall to the floor.

She wanted Kazuto to have a smile on his face forever. He was

so changed after his return, so much brighter, that he might as

well have been a different person. He talked to Suguha easily, he

was shockingly kind, and he didn't seem to be forcing himself to

do it. It was as though they were back to their childhood ways.

That was why seeing tears in his eyes was so painful to her, she

told herself.

But I already know…

Suguha knew that when he hid his eyes while talking about

Her, the pain that welled in her chest came from another, secret

emotion.

She silently called out to him as she watched him drinking his

cup of milk in the kitchen.

Big brother, I know the truth.

Suguha still wasn't sure what had changed when he went from

brother to cousin.

But she did know one thing: something she'd never considered

before, but which now perpetually twinkled inside of her secretly.

It was the fact that maybe, just maybe, she was allowed to fall

in love with her brother.

I took a quick shower, changed, and left the house on the mountain bike I'd bought a month ago. I pedaled slowly and easily to

the south. It was a nine-mile trip to my destination, which was a

long way to ride on a bike, but it made for good muscle-building

rehabilitation.

I was heading for the city of Tokorozawa in Saitama Prefecture

—a state-of-the-art general hospital on the outskirts of town. In a

room on the top floor, she was quietly sleeping.

Two months earlier, I'd ended the game of death that was

Sword Art Online by defeating its final boss, Heathcliff the Paladin, on the seventy-fifth floor of the floating castle Aincrad. Just

after that, I awoke in an unfamiliar hospital room and realized

that I'd returned to reality.

But she—my game partner, the woman I loved more than any

other, Asuna the Flash—did not come with me.

It didn't take long to look up her actual location. After waking

in that Tokyo hospital room, I wandered the halls on uncertain

legs until the nurses spotted me. In less than an hour, a man in a

suit rushed in to see me. He claimed to be from the Ministry of

Internal Affairs, SAO Incident Office.

That imposing-sounding organization had been formed soon

after the SAO Incident began, but in those two years, they'd been

able to accomplish very little. I couldn't blame them. One wrong

move attempting to interfere with the server and undo the mastermind Akihiko Kayaba's programmed protection, and ten thousand minds could have been boiled in an instant. No one man

could shoulder the responsibility to make that choice.

What they could do, however, was arrange for the victims to be

taken to adequate hospitals—in itself a remarkable accomplishment of coordination—and monitor what little player data was

available to the outside world.

Somehow, they knew my level, my coordinates, and even that I

was high up among the "clearers" who were responsible for advancing progress in the game. Which was apparently why, when

players held captive suddenly began waking up one day last November, they rushed to my hospital room to ask me what had

happened.

I'd given the man in the black-rimmed glasses my conditions. I

would tell him everything I knew. In return, he would tell me

what I wanted to know.

What I wanted was Asuna's location, naturally. After a few

minutes of frantic phone calls, the man came back, clearly unnerved.

"Asuna Yuuki is being held at a medical facility in Tokorozawa.

But she hasn't awakened like the others…In fact, there are still

three hundred victims around the country who haven't come back

yet."

At the very beginning, simple server lag was the hypothesis, given

the enormity of the process that had transpired within the game.

But as the hours and days went on, no update came on the condition of Asuna and the three hundred like her.

The public was electrified, speculating that Akihiko Kayaba's

plot still continued. But I couldn't agree. I'd been there in that

world of endless sunset as Aincrad collapsed behind us. I'd talked

to him for a few brief minutes, and I recalled the lucidity in his

gaze.

Kayaba said that he would release all of the surviving players.

At that late hour, he had no reason to lie about it. I took him at

his word—that he was prepared to move on from that world and

wipe everything clean.

But whether through an unforeseen accident or someone else's

design, the main SAO server was not reformatted entirely. It was

still an impenetrable black box, working away. In the same way,

Asuna's NerveGear still held her spirit prisoner, attached to that

server. There was no way for me to know what was going on in

there. If only, one more time, I could return to that world…

Suguha would be furious if she knew, but one time I left a

note, went into my room, and put my NerveGear back on. I tried

loading up the Sword Art Online client, but before my eyes appeared only a simple error message: UNABLE TO CONNECT TO SERVER.

So, as soon as my physical rehab was finished and I was able

to get around again, I started visiting Asuna's hospital room as

regularly as I could.

The time I spent with her was always painful. Knowing that

someone so important to me was spirited away by something

cruel and unfeeling left my soul wounded. I could feel it oozing

blood. But there was nothing else I could do. As I am now, powerless and minuscule, I was helpless.

After forty minutes of slow, measured pedaling, I turned off the

major thoroughfare and onto a smaller road, which wound its

way up some hills until a massive building came into view. It was

a high-tech medical facility, operated by a private corporation.

I waved at the now-familiar security guard as I passed through

the front gate, then parked my bicycle in a corner of the large lot.

I got my guest pass from the luxurious first-floor lobby that

looked more hotel than hospital and clipped it to my shirt pocket

as I strode into the elevator.

The doors opened smoothly, just a few seconds later, on the

eighteenth, and highest, floor. An empty hallway continued

south. This floor was largely reserved for long-term patients, so it

was rare to pass anyone in the halls. Eventually, I reached the

end, and a pale green door came into view. There was a dully

glowing nameplate on the wall next to the door.

Yuuki, Asuna. Beneath the name, a single slot. I took the pass

off my chest and slid it through the reader. A chime sounded, and

the door automatically retracted.

One step inside and I was surrounded by the cool scent of

flowers. Despite the midwinter season, the room was positively

exploding with real, fresh flowers. Farther inside the spacious

room, a curtain was drawn, and I approached it slowly.

Please let her be awake in there. I put my hand on the curtain,

praying for a miracle. Silently, it parted.

It was a state-of-the-art bed designed for full patient care. The

surface was a gel material, the same as mine had been. A clean

white comforter was glowing softly in the sunlight. She was underneath it, sleeping.

The first time I'd visited this place, I was struck by the sudden

thought that she might not want me to see her real-life body

while she was unconscious. But that concern was completely banished from my mind when I saw how beautiful she looked.

Her rich, lustrous chestnut hair was splayed softly across the

support cushions. Her skin was so pale, you could nearly see

through it, but the hospital's gentle care kept it from having a

sickly tinge. There was even a hint of rose color in her cheeks.

She didn't seem to have lost as much weight as I had. The

slender line from her neck to collarbone was just as I remembered it in the virtual world. Light pink lips. Long eyelashes. It almost seemed like they might tremble and pop open at any moment—if not for the navy blue headgear that covered her skull.

All three indicator lights on the NerveGear were shining blue.

The occasional starlike twinkle was proof that the connection was

functioning. Even now, her soul was held captive in another

world.

I took her fragile hand in both of mine. There was a slight

warmth to it. It was no different from the hand I remembered—

the one that clung to mine, that touched my body, that slipped

around my back. My breath caught, and I desperately held back

the tears.

"Asuna…"

The faint alarm of the bedside clock brought me back to my

senses. My eyes snapped to it and I was surprised to find it was

already noon.

"I've got to go now, Asuna. I'll be back soon…"

As I stood to leave, the door opened behind me. I turned

around to see two men entering the room.

"Ahh, you're here, Kirigaya. As always, I appreciate your concern."

A smile split the face of the solid middle-aged man in front. He

wore a well-tailored three-piece brown suit, and the tightness of

his face despite his stocky build suggested the vitality of a very

successful man. Only the silver in his slicked-back hair revealed

the mental toll that the last two years had taken.

He was Shouzou Yuuki, Asuna's father. She had mentioned

once or twice that he was an entrepreneur, but even then, I

couldn't hide my shock when I learned that he was actually the

CEO of the electronics manufacturer RCT.

I gave him a polite bow and said, "Good afternoon. Sorry to

have disturbed you, Mr. Yuuki."

"Not at all. Come any time you like. I'm sure she's happy."

He approached Asuna's bedside and tenderly stroked her hair.

All was quiet for a moment, then he looked up and motioned to

the other man with him.

"You haven't met, have you? This is Sugou, the manager of our

lab."

My first impression was that he seemed quite nice. He was tall,

clad in a dark gray suit, with frameless glasses resting on his long

face. The eyes behind the thin lenses were narrow lines, which

made it seem as though he were smiling all the time. He was

quite young—not yet thirty, by my estimation.

Sugou extended a hand to me and said, "Nice to meet you. I'm

Nobuyuki Sugou. So you're the hero, Kirito."

"…Kazuto Kirigaya. Nice to meet you."

I glanced at Shouzou as I shook Sugou's hand. He inclined his

head slightly as he stroked his chin.

"Oops, sorry 'bout that. I know, stuff that happened in the SAO

servers is all confidential. But it was such a dramatic tale that it's

hard not to talk about it. He's the son of a very good friend of

mine. Our families have been close for years."

"About that, sir." Sugou turned to Shouzou, releasing my

hand. "I was hoping we could get everything official by the end of

next month."

"I see…and you're sure about this? You're still so young;

there's plenty of time to start a new life."

"My heart has been set on this for years. I'd like to be able to

put Asuna in that dress…while she's still so beautiful."

"…Indeed. It might be time to make a hard decision."

I listened to their conversation, unsure of what they were discussing. Shouzou looked back to me.

"Well, it's time I ought to be going. I'll see you again later,

Kirigaya."

With a brisk nod, Shouzou Yuuki turned his imposing bulk

around and walked to the door. It opened and shut again. Only

the man named Sugou was left.

He slowly paced around the foot of the bed to stand on the

other side, then picked up a lock of her hair and started rubbing it

audibly with his fingers. Something about the gesture filled me

with revulsion.

"I hear you lived together with Asuna inside the game," he said

softly, still looking at her.

"…Yes."

"That makes things…complicated…between us, then."

He raised his head and stared into my eyes. In that instant, I

understood that my first impression of this man could not have

been more wrong.

Those narrow eyes featured beady pupils that gave him a

wicked glare. Both corners of his mouth curled upward into a grin

that could not be described with any word other than devious. A

chill ran up my spine.

"You see, the matter I mentioned a moment ago…" He gloated.

"It regards my marriage to Asuna."

I was struck speechless. What in the world was he talking

about? The meaning of his words only slowly penetrated my skin,

like freezing air. After several seconds of silence, I haltingly found

my voice.

"You can't…possibly…"

"True. Legally, we cannot be married because Asuna is not

conscious and cannot give consent. On paper, the Yuuki family is

simply taking me in as a foster son. As a matter of fact, she's always hated me."

He traced a finger along Asuna's cheek.

"Her parents never seemed to have a clue. But I always knew

that if the topic of marriage came up, there was a high likelihood

she'd reject it. Which is exactly why this situation suits my ends

so well. I hope she sleeps for a while yet."

His finger got closer and closer to her lips.

"Stop it!"

I grabbed his hand without thinking and pulled it away from

her face. My voice was hoarse with anger.

"Are you saying…you're taking advantage of Asuna's coma?"

Sugou leered again as he snatched his hand away. "Advantage?

Actually, it's entirely within my legal right. Kirigaya, are you

aware of what happened to Argus, the developers of SAO?"

"I heard they were dissolved."

"Yes. In addition to the development costs, the astronomical

reparations for the Incident drove them bankrupt. Maintaining

the SAO server was consigned to RCT's full-dive engineering

team: my department."

Sugou circled around the headboard of the bed to face me. He

stuck his face up close to mine, still wearing that demonic smirk.

"Meaning that Asuna's life is now entirely under my supervision and control. And doesn't that entitle me to just the tiniest

amount of compensation?" he whispered into my ear, and I knew.

He was using Asuna's helpless predicament, her very life, for

his own selfish ends.

As I stood, petrified in shock, Sugou finally shed the leer he'd

been wearing and spoke icily.

"I have no idea what kind of promises you two made while you

were inside the game, but I'd appreciate it if you stopped visiting

the hospital. And please keep your distance from the Yuuki family."

I clenched my fists, but there was nothing I could do. Several

glacial seconds passed. Eventually, Sugou pulled away, his cheek

dimpling as though he were about to burst into laughter.

"We'll have the ceremony here at the hospital next month. Tell

you what: I'll shoot you an invitation. I've got to be off, so get the

most out of your final meeting—hero."

I wish I had my swords, I thought desperately. I'd run him

through the heart with one and cut of his head with the other.

Cognizant of my rage or not, Sugou patted me on the shoulder

and left the room.

I had no memory of the trip home. The next thing I knew, I was

sitting on my bed, staring at the wall.

My marriage to Asuna.

Asuna's life is now entirely under my supervision and control.

His words echoed through my head, over and over. Each time

they did, I was pierced with hatred as sharp and hot as molten

metal.

But…maybe my ego was getting the best of me.

Sugou had been close to the Yuuki family for years and was essentially Asuna's fiancé. He had earned Shouzou Yuuki's trust

and was in a position of great responsibility at RCT. It had been

decided years ago that he would one day marry Asuna, and I was

just some kid who she met in an online game. Perhaps the rage I

felt, the indignation at losing Asuna, was nothing more than the

frustration of a child who had been deprived of his toys.

To us, the floating castle Aincrad was the only world that existed. That's what we believed. The words we traded, the

promises we made, all those memories were like shining jewels in

my mind.

But the harsh whetstone of reality was grinding them down to

size. It chipped away at those jewels.

I want to be with you forever, Kirito, she had said with a

smile—a smile that was slowly but surely fading away.

"I'm sorry…I'm so sorry, Asuna. I…can't do anything…"

This time, the tears that I'd been struggling to hold back finally fell, dripping onto my clenched fists.

"The bath's open, big brother," Suguha called out to the door of

Kazuto's second-floor bedroom. There was no answer.

He'd returned from the hospital in the evening but immediately shut himself in his room, and he did not emerge for dinner.

Suguha put her hand on the doorknob, then hesitated. But she

told herself that if he was napping untended, he might catch a

cold, and so she pushed the knob.

It swiveled and clicked, and the door inched open. It was black

inside. She thought he must be sleeping, until a wave of frigid air

trickled over her, and she shivered. Kazuto must have left the

window open.

Suguha snuck into the room, shaking her head. She closed the

door and approached the window on the south side of the room,

and she was startled to discover that Kazuto was not lying down

asleep but was sitting on the edge of his bed, head slumped.

"Oh, um…sorry, I thought you were sleeping."

After a few moments, Kazuto spoke, his voice ragged and

weak.

"Can I just…be alone for a while?"

"B-but it's so cold in here…" Suguha reached out and touched

his arm. It was cold as ice. "Oh my gosh, you're freezing! You'll

catch a chill. Come on, you need a bath."

It was then that Suguha noticed the nighttime lights coming

through the window, shining on Kazuto's cheeks.

"Wh…what's wrong?"

"Nothing," he muttered damply.

"But…"

Kazuto suddenly put his hands to his forehead, as if to block

her uncomprehending stare. When he spoke again, it was hard

and derisive.

"I'm hopeless…I swore to myself that I wouldn't complain in

front of you."

In that instant, Suguha instinctively knew. Softly and hesitantly, she spoke.

"Did something happen…with Asuna?"

His body stiffened. It sounded like he wrung the voice out of

his throat.

"Asuna…is going…far away. Far beyond…my grasp…"

That didn't tell her anything specific. But the sight of him

curled over, shedding tears like a child, shook Suguha deeply.

She closed the window, drew the curtains, and turned on the

heater before sitting next to him on the bed. After a moment's

hesitation, she put her arms around his chilly body. She could feel

the tension drain out of him.

Suguha whispered into his ear. "C'mon, hang in there. Don't

just give up on the one you truly love…"

It took all of her being to find those words, and when they left

her mouth and echoed in her ears, the pain threatened to rip her

apart. It was the pain of something coming to life within her

breast. Suguha was keenly aware of how much she truly loved

him at that moment.

I can't keep lying to myself.

She leaned back and softly rolled Kazuto onto the bed, then

pulled the covers up. Under their warmth, she put her arm

around his back again.

As she gently rubbed his back, his racking sobs transitioned to

the peaceful breath of sleep. She closed her eyes and told herself,

I have to give up. I need to bury this deep, deep within me.

Kazuto's heart belongs to her, not me.

A single tear of her own dripped down Suguha's cheek and

landed on the sheets.

I drifted through a sweet and pleasant warmth.

It was the wonderful sensation of floating just before waking

up. The sunlight trickling through the forest branches gently caressed my cheek.

I leaned closer to embrace her as she slept next to me. Her

breath was steady with sleep, and I opened my eyes to see…

"Wha—?"

I caught the yelp in my throat and leaped back a foot or two,

still on my back. The next second, I sprung up to a sitting position

and looked around wildly.

It wasn't the same old forest on the twenty-second floor of

Aincrad I always dreamed about. I was in my actual room, in my

actual bed…but I wasn't alone.

I carefully lifted the blanket, still shocked, but I put it back

down just as quickly, so that I could shake my head to clear the

cobwebs of sleep. I pulled the cover back again: short black hair.

Vivid eyebrows.

Suguha was fast asleep, wearing her pajamas, face buried in

my pillow.

"Wh-what the hell's going on here…?"

I desperately tried to remember what had happened last night.

Right—I seemed to remember having a conversation with Suguha

after coming home from the hospital. I'd been lost in angst, and

Suguha had done her best to console me. After that, I must have

fallen asleep…

"What am I, a little kid…?"

After a brief bout of utter mortification, I looked back at Suguha's innocent, sleeping face. Surely she didn't need to sleep in

the same bed to comfort me…

Thinking back, a similar thing had happened to me in Aincrad.

There was the beast-tamer I met around the fortieth floor. She'd

reminded me of Suguha. She'd also fallen asleep in my bed, and I

had been just as confused about what to do then.

I couldn't help but smile. Asuna and Sugou were still weighing

heavily on my mind, but the chest-rending ache had somehow

melted away overnight.

All the memories of what had happened in Aincrad were like

precious jewels to me, whether happy or sad. The important thing

was that they were all true memories. I couldn't disparage them

myself. I swore to Asuna that we would meet again in the real

world. There must still be something I could do about this.

Suddenly, Suguha's last words before I fell asleep echoed in

my ears.

Don't just give up…

"Yeah…you're right," I muttered, leaning forward to poke Suguha's cheek. "Get up, Sugu, it's morning."

"Nng," she grunted unhappily, trying to pull the blanket over

her head. This time, I pinched her cheek and pulled it.

"Wake up. You're wasting valuable morning practice time."

"Muhh…"

Suguha finally open a bleary eye.

"Oh…good morning, big brother," she murmured, sitting upright.

She peered at me quizzically for a moment, then began looking

around the room. Eventually, her tired eyes bulged wide. Her

cheeks grew redder and redder.

"Ah—! Um—! I didn't—!"

Suguha was red to the ears, her mouth working soundlessly.

She finally leaped to her feet and exploded out of the room with a

massive crash.

"Sheesh." I scratched my head, getting to my feet. I opened my

window and took a deep breath, letting the cold air flow over my

lethargic limbs.

I was laying out a fresh outfit to change into after an impending

quick shower when I received The Notice.

An electronic ding sounded behind me, and I turned to my

desk. The e-mail indicator on the upper frame of my panel PC

was blinking. I sat down in the chair and brushed the mouse to

activate the monitor.

Computers had changed quite a bit in the two years I'd been

"away." The final nail had been driven into the coffin of classic

hard-drive storage, and even its successor, the solid-state drive,

had been phased out for high-speed MRAM. This meant that

there was no longer any discernible lag time of any kind while

computing. The instant I activated the mail program, my inbox

was fully refreshed, descending in chronological order. The

sender of the latest message at the bottom of the screen was

someone familiar: Agil.

Agil the ax warrior had run a general store in Algade, the main

town of the fiftieth floor of Aincrad. I'd met up with him in Tokyo

about three weeks earlier. We'd traded e-mail contacts at the

time, but this was the first message I'd actually received from

him. It was titled, "Look at this." Perhaps he'd been in a hurry

when he sent it, because there wasn't a single word in the body of

the message, only a picture attachment.

Curious, I opened the picture in the viewer. The next instant, I

rose from the chair and craned closer to the screen to get a better

look.

It was a mysterious image. The bold coloring and lighting told

me it was not a photograph but a screenshot of a virtual, polygonal world. In the foreground were blurry, unfocused golden bars.

Behind them was a white table and chair. Sitting in the chair was

a woman wearing a dress in the same shade of white. But the

glimpse of her side profile through the bars looked just like—

"Asuna…?"

The resolution was rough; it seemed to be a section of a much

larger picture zoomed in considerably. But I would recognize that

long chestnut hair anywhere. Her hands were folded on top of the

table, and her face looked lost in grief. Upon closer examination,

she seemed to have translucent wings sprouting from her back.

I grabbed my portable terminal off the desk and scrolled

through my phone listings impatiently. The few seconds of dial

tone seemed interminable. After a click, I heard Agil's deep voice.

"Hel—"

"What is this picture?!"

"…Normally it's good manners to say who's calling first, Kirito."

"No time! Just tell me!"

"Look, it's a long story. Can you come to my place?"

"I'll be there. I'm leaving now."

I hung up without waiting for a response and picked up my

clothes. After the world's fastest shower, I slipped on my shoes

and hopped onto my bike, hair still dripping. The familiar route

to the train station had never felt so long.

Agil's café-and-bar was located in a crowded alley in the neighborhood of Okachi, in the Taito ward of Tokyo. The storefront

was made of sooty black wood, and only a small metallic sign affixed over the doorway indicated that there was a business there

at all. The sign was decorated in the shape of two dice, reading

DICEY CAFÉ.

A dry chime sounded when I pushed open the door. The large

bald man behind the counter looked up and grinned at my entrance. There was no one else inside.

"Hey, that was quick."

"This place is as empty as the last time I visited. I'm amazed it

stayed open for the last two years."

"Shut up, we do a brisk night business."

Our lighthearted ribbing was just as it had been in the other

world.

I'd tried reaching out to Agil late the previous month. An agent

from the Ministry of Internal Affairs had succeeded in getting me

a list of the names and addresses of as many in-game friends as I

could remember. No doubt plenty of players were seeking to reunite with Klein, Nishida, Silica, and Lisbeth, but I'd decided to

give them more time to get back to regular life before contacting

them. When I'd brought up the topic on my first visit, Agil had retorted, "Oh, so I don't merit that kind of consideration?"

When I learned that Agil—real name Andrew Gilbert Mills—

also ran a business in real life, it made perfect sense. He was pure

African-American but also a second-generation native of Tokyo,

and he'd opened his combination café-and-bar in the familiar

neighborhood of Okachi when he was twenty-five. He had been

blessed with a steady clientele and a beautiful wife, and just when

everything seemed poised to take off, he fell prisoner to Sword

Art Online. When he finally returned after those two years in the

game, he'd expected the business to be gone, but his wife had

rolled up her sleeves and kept the store running the entire time.

The story warmed my heart.

It was the type of place with plenty of regulars. The wood fixtures had the deep luster of polish and care, and the cozy intimacy of the interior, with only four tables and a counter, made it

a comfortable visit.

I pulled up a leather-seated stool, impatiently called for a coffee, and launched into the topic at hand.

"What did that mean?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he reached under the counter and

pulled out a rectangular package that he slid over to me. I

stopped it with a finger.

The package fit in the palm of my hand, clearly a video-game

box. I scanned it for a platform and noticed a logo in the upper

right corner that said AMUSPHERE.

"Never heard of this console…"

"That's because the AmuSphere was released while we were on

the other side. It's a successor to the NerveGear."

"…"

Agil gave me a quick explanation as I eyed with suspicion the

logo of two interlocking rings.

After the disaster it had caused, the NerveGear was vilified far

and wide, a demonic machine of enslavement. But apparently the

market had spoken, and there was still a demand for full-dive VR

gaming. Barely half a year into the SAO Incident, a different

hardware company unveiled its own model, "but safe this time,"

to such resounding success that traditional TV consoles were now

a minority share of the game industry. This AmuSphere was a

major force in gaming, thanks in part to many titles in the same

genre as SAO.

It all made sense to me, but I was in no rush to learn more. I

didn't ever want to relive that particular experience.

"So this is another VRMMO, then?"

I took another look at the case. The front cover was an illustration of a large full moon rising above a deep, deep forest. A boy

and girl holding swords were caught in silhouette, flying across

the golden disk. They were dressed in typical fantasy garb, and

large, translucent wings sprang from their backs. An ornate logo

adorned the bottom of the cover: ALFHEIM ONLINE.

"ALf…heim…Online? What does it mean?"

"It's actually pronounced more like Alv-heym. Means 'land of

the fairies,' apparently."

"Fairies, huh…? Sounds pretty laid-back. One of those casual

MMOs?"

"Believe it or not, just the opposite. It's actually pretty hardcore."

Agil placed a steaming cup in front of me and grinned. I lifted

it up and breathed in the scent before inquiring further.

"What makes it hard-core?"

"Totally skill-based. Player skill is rewarded, PK-ing is encouraged."

"Meaning…?"

"You don't have a 'level.' You can only power up skills through

use, and your HP barely increases as you play through the game.

Battle depends on the player's actual athletic ability. It's like SAO

with magic and no sword skills. People say the graphics and animation are almost on par with SAO, too."

"Wow…sounds impressive."

I puckered my lips into a soundless whistle. The floating castle

Aincrad was the creation of the genius Akihiko Kayaba's fanatic

obsession. It was hard to imagine that another developer could

create a VR world with the same fidelity.

"How is PK-ing encouraged?"

"When you create your character, you choose from a number

of fairy species, and you're allowed to kill the other kinds."

"Wow, that does sound hard-core. But a game like that won't

sell big, even with great production values. Not if it's designed for

such a niche market," I opined critically, but Agil's wide mouth

grinned again.

"That's what I thought, too, but it's been selling like gangbusters. The thing is, you can fly in the game."

"Fly…?"

"Everyone's a fairy, so they have wings. It's got some kind of

in-game flight engine, and once you get used to it, you can fly

around freely without a controller."

At this, I couldn't help but exclaim in fascination. Plenty of flying games had come to market after the release of the NerveGear,

but all of them were flight simulators that involved manipulating

a device of some kind. The reason no games offered players the

ability to fly directly was simple: Human beings don't have wings.

In a virtual world, players' actions are faithfully translated to

mirror their real bodies. But this meant that what was impossible

in life was still impossible in the game. The developer might slap

some wings onto your model, but what human muscles are supposed to work a pair of wings?

By the end of SAO, Asuna and I had raised our jumping power

high enough that we could mimic "flying" in a way, but this was

simply an extension of a jump trajectory, not true flight.

"That sounds incredible. How do you control the wings?"

"Dunno, but it's apparently pretty hard. They say new players

have to control it with a flight stick in one hand."

"…"

For an instant, I was actually eager for the chance to try it out.

I quickly downed a hot swig of coffee to extinguish that fire.

"Okay, so that's the game. But more to the point, what was

that picture?"

Agil reached under the counter again and pulled out a sheet of

paper that he placed on the bar. It was glossy with printing film.

The same picture.

"What do you think?" Agil asked. I stared at it for several moments.

"She looks…like Asuna."

"So you agree. It's a screenshot from the game, so I can't blow

it up any larger, unfortunately."

"Just tell me, where was it taken?"

"In there. Inside ALfheim Online."

Agil took the game box from me and flipped it over. In the center of the back cover, surrounded by the game description and

screenshots, was an illustration of what appeared to be the game

world. The round map was split into territories for each of the

fairy races, extending radially outward from a massive tree in the

middle.

"They call it the World Tree," Agil said, tapping the image.

"The player's goal is to reach the land atop the tree before the

other races can get there."

"Don't they just fly?"

"Seems there's a limit on your flight time. You can't fly forever.

In fact, you can't even reach the lowest branch of the tree that

way. But there's always some idiot who wants to try. I heard

about a group of five who stood on one another's shoulders, lightest to heaviest, and tried to reach the branches like a rocket with

fuel tanks."

"Ha-ha! I see…That's pretty smart, for being so stupid."

"Well, their plan was good, and they got real close to the

branches. They didn't quite reach the lowest one, but the fifth and

final person took some screens as proof of the altitude. One of the

shots showed something strange: an enormous birdcage hanging

from one of the branches."

"A birdcage…"

My eyebrows knitted at the ominous implications of that word.

Trapped in a birdcage.

"And after the screenshot was zoomed in as far as it could go,

that's what was left."

"But this is a legitimate game, right? Why would Asuna be in

there?"

I grabbed the box and took another look. I scanned the bottom

of the rectangular case. The name of the developer was RCT

Progress.

"Kirito, what's with the glare?"

"Nothin'. Got any other pictures, Agil? Anything that might

show others like Asuna, who never returned from SAO, held captive within this ALfheim Online game?"

The shopkeeper's heavy brow furrowed as he shook his head.

"Haven't heard of anything. But we'd know for sure if I did—you

bet your ass I'd have called the police instead of you."

"Yeah…I'm sure you would have…"

But as I nodded, my mind was racing back to Nobuyuki

Sugou's words.

The SAO servers are currently under my control, he had said.

But "under control" was a misleading description. The server itself was still a black box, impervious to any outside interference,

as I understood it.

It suited his ends to have Asuna asleep inside the machine.

And now a girl who looks like Asuna was sighted in another

VRMMO, run by the publishing arm of RCT…Could it truly just

be a coincidence?

For an instant, I thought I might contact the rescue team in

the Ministry, until I realized just how little proof I had to show

them.

I looked up, into the face of the burly café owner.

"Agil, can I have this game?"

"Be my guest. You going in?"

"Yeah. I need to see it for myself."

Agil briefly looked concerned. I understood how he felt. Part of

me felt it was crazy, but there was no denying the tendrils of fear I

could sense licking at my feet— there was something going on

here.

I shook off the foreboding and gave him a grin.

"A game where death isn't permanent? People these days are

spoiled. Guess I'm in the market for a new game console."

"Don't worry, AmuSphere games will run on a NerveGear. It's

basically just the same unit with strengthened security."

"Great, that saves me some money," I quipped. This time it

was Agil's turn to give me a wry grin.

"If you've got the guts to put on that helmet again, that is."

"I've done it a dozen times already."

That was the truth. I had put on the NerveGear multiple times,

just with a net connection, not booted into a game. My vain hope

was that Asuna would have sent me a message of some kind.

There was nothing, of course. No voice, no text.

But I was done with waiting. I downed the last of my coffee

and stood up. The establishment wasn't fancy enough for any

kind of electronic money-exchanging systems, so I had to reach

into my pocket for some coins to slap on the counter.

"Well, I'm off. Thanks for the coffee—and let me know if you

learn anything else."

"I'll put that tip on your tab. Just make sure you rescue Asuna.

Otherwise our fight isn't over."

"Yeah…we need to have an offline meet-up here someday."

We bumped fists, and I turned to head out the door.

Suguha was lying facedown on her own bed, face buried in her

pillow, as she kicked her legs in anguish for minutes at a time.

It was nearly noon, but she was still wearing her pajamas. It

was Monday, January 20th, well past the end of winter vacation,

but Suguha's middle school made attendance optional just before

the end of the school year for graduating students. They were all

busy with entrance exams for high school, and if she went to campus, it would only be to pop her head into the kendo club.

She replayed the memory inside her mind for the umpteenth

time.

She'd curled up beneath Kazuto's covers with him last night,

trying to warm up his freezing body by snuggling close, and then

fell asleep. It was the first time she'd ever truly cursed her ability

to zonk out ten seconds after lying down.

I'm so stupid, stupid, stupid! she wailed soundlessly, beating

her pillow with both hands.

If she'd just woken up before Kazuto, she could have made a

silent escape before he noticed. Instead, he had to wake her up

and point out that she was in his bed. There was no way she could

look at him again.

Embarrassment, shyness, and an undeniable feeling of his

sweetness raced around inside of her, gripping her chest so

painfully she couldn't breathe. If she folded her arms around her

head, she thought she could smell her brother on her pajamas.

That only made things worse.

I need to swing my shinai and clear my head, she decided,

and finally got to her feet. Suguha liked practicing in the dojo because it put her mind in the right state, but she decided the most

important thing was to get outside as soon as possible, so she

slipped into her tracksuit.

Kazuto was off on some personal business, her mother, Midori, always left for work in the morning, and her father, Minetaka, went back to America after the holidays, so she was alone in

the house. She grabbed a cheese muffin from the basket on the

dining table downstairs, stuffed it crudely into her mouth, and

grabbed a box of orange juice on her way out to the backyard.

Just when she had taken her first big bite, Kazuto walked his

bike around the side of the house. Their eyes met.

"Mmfg!"

A piece of muffin caught in her throat, and she coughed. She

scrambled to take a swig of orange juice and wash it down, then

realized she hadn't popped the straw through the foil on top yet.

"Mmp, mllp!"

"Oh, come on."

Kazuto strode over and snatched the juice box. He stuck one of

the ends of the straw into the lid and the other into Suguha's

mouth. She desperately sucked down the cold liquid until she

could finally swallow the morsel.

"Pwah! I…I thought I was gonna choke to death…"

"Man, you're so clumsy. You don't have to wolf it down all at

once."

"Ugh," she muttered. Kazuto sat down next to her and started

untying his shoes. She watched him out of the corner of her eye as

she took another bite of muffin.

Abruptly, he said, "About last night, Sugu…"

She took another hasty drink of juice before she could start

coughing again.

"Y-yes?"

"Well, um…thanks."

"Huh…?"

Suguha was not expecting this. She peered at him curiously.

"Thanks for cheering me up yesterday. It really helped. I'm not

going to give up. I'll keep going until I've rescued Asuna."

She smiled to cover up the throb of pain in her chest.

"Good. Keep at it. I've always wanted to meet her."

"I'm sure you'll be great friends." He scrunched her hair and

stood up. "Well, see you later."

Suguha turned and watched him go up the stairs, then popped

the last bite of muffin into her mouth.

And am I allowed to keep at it, too…?

She headed through the yard to do her stretches at the side of

the pond. Once she was nice and warmed up, she picked up the

shinai and started swinging.

Normally, the steady pattern of thorough swiping would clear

her head of all distractions, but this time, the thoughts stayed

put.

Am I really allowed to fall in love with him?

She thought she was ready, for a moment, to forget last night—

cradling him in bed. Asuna was the only person in Kazuto's heart,

a fact of which she was painfully aware.

But…I don't think that matters to me.

She didn't know why Kazuto was weighing so heavily on her

mind these days. But her feelings had become as clear as day to

her.

When the hospital had called two months ago, Suguha had

raced out of the house without waiting for her mother. Kazuto

had smiled at her on his hospital bed when he saw her, tears in

his eyes. He'd reached out and said, "Sugu," in that familiar

voice…and that was when these feelings had been born inside of

her. She wanted to be with him always. She wanted to talk with

him more. But forcing that on him…She couldn't.

I'm fine just watching him, she told herself as she swung the

wooden blade through empty space. She stopped briefly to check

the clock in the living room. It was past noon.

"Ah, crap. I forgot my promise," she muttered. She put down

the sword and wiped off her sweat with the towel hanging on the

pine branch. Up in the sky, the first glimpse of blue was peeking

through the clouds.

Back in my room, I changed into street clothes, set my phone to

away mode, and sat on my bed. I zipped open my backpack and

pulled out the game Agil gave me. ALfheim Online.

From what he'd said, it sounded like a pretty serious endeavor.

No level system was a big plus for me, though, as it suggested I

wouldn't be too inconvenienced by having started it later than

everyone else in the game.

Normally with an MMORPG, before starting I'd want to read

up on as much information as I could find on the net or in magazines, but I was in no mood for that. I opened the package, pulled

out a tiny ROM card, and slid it into a small slot on the NerveGear. After a few seconds, the LED on the front stopped blinking

and went solid.

I lay back on the bed and held the device right over my face. It

had once been a gleaming navy blue marvel, but now the paint

was chipping off here and there. This was the set of shackles that

had held me prisoner for two years—but it was also an old friend

that had been through hell with me without ever malfunctioning.

Lend me your strength just one more time, I pleaded silently

and lowered the NerveGear onto my head. Next came the chin

harness, then the visor shield. I shut my eyes.

My heart racing with excitement and unease, I gave the command to begin the game.

"Link start!"

The murky light shining through my closed eyelids abruptly vanished. The signals coming from my optic nerves were canceled,

and true darkness enveloped me.

But just as abruptly, a rainbow of color danced before my

view. The amorphous light fashioned itself into the NerveGear

logo. It was dim and hazy at first but then grew sharper as the device's connection to the visual center of my brain became more

solid. Eventually, a small message beneath the logo appeared, signaling that visual connection had been established.

Next came an eerie echoing noise from nowhere in particular.

It seemed to be rushing closer, and the warped sound changed

pitch until it formed a pleasing harmony. The solemn start-up

jingle played and abruptly finished. Audio connection established.

Now the setup moved on to physical sensation, then gravity.

The feeling of the bed on my back and the weight of my body disappeared. As each one of my senses was calibrated and tested, the

check marks piled up. In time, full-dive tech would no doubt

shorten this process considerably, but at this point there was

nothing I could do but wait for the headgear to perform its little

handshake with each section of my brain in turn.

When the final OK message appeared at last, I was plunged

down into darkness. Eventually, a glowing circle of rainbow light

appeared from below, and after passing through it, my virtual feet

landed in a different world.

Technically, it was just a stage for account creation, still

shrouded in darkness. The ALfheim Online logo hung overhead,

and a gentle female voice welcomed me to the game.

I followed the computerized voice's instructions and initiated

the account and character creation process. A pale blue holo-keyboard materialized at chest height and asked me to input a user

ID and password. I typed in the familiar string of letters that I'd

used at the start of SAO. If this were an all-digital MMO, I'd be

greeted with payment options at this point, but the retail version

of ALO came with a free month of play.

Next came my character name. I started to type "Kirito" but

hesitated. Very few people knew that Kazuto Kirigaya in the real

world went by Kirito online. Only the rescue team from the Ministry of Internal Affairs; Shouzou Yuuki, the president of RCT,

who had been closely involved with that team; and Sugou. After

that, it was Agil and the still-sleeping Asuna. Even Suguha and

my parents didn't know.

Nothing about what had happened in SAO had been made

public, especially not character names. There had been countless

battles between characters within the game, battles that led to a

shocking number of actual deaths in the real world. If stories of

who had murdered whom became public, it would no doubt set

off a tangle of endless court cases.

For the moment, all charges of murder related to the SAO Incident were laid solely at the feet of the still-missing Akihiko

Kayaba. All damages claimed by the families of the victims were

levied from Argus, the developer of the game, and it wasn't long

until Argus had gone bankrupt. Kayaba had built up Argus into

one of the premier development houses and then leveled it to the

ground. But as far as the government was concerned, they didn't

want the ugly possibility of players suing one another.

I was concerned about Nobuyuki Sugou finding me, but the

name itself wasn't that remarkable, so I decided to go ahead and

call myself "Kirito." I chose male for my gender, of course.

Next, the female voice instructed me to create my character.

Yet, my only choice was player race. All of my cosmetic parame-

ters would be chosen at random, and if I didn't like what I was

given, I'd have to pay an in-game fee to re-create the looks I

wanted. In this case, I didn't particularly care what I looked like.

I had a choice of nine different fairy-themed races for my character. Each one had its own advantages and disadvantages, the

voice said. Some of the names, like salamander, sylph, and

gnome, were familiar RPG terms, while others—cait sith, leprechaun—were less so.

The choice didn't matter to me, as I had no intention of playing the game seriously. But I liked the all-black motif of the spriggan starting equipment, so I chose that one and hit OK.

With all the customization complete, the computerized voice

wished me luck, and another vortex of light surrounded me. According to the explanation, each race was teleported to its own

starting city. The sensation of ground beneath my feet vanished,

and I was weightless for a moment before gravity pulled me

down. A new world began to take shape from the light. I was in

the air, over a small town shrouded in darkness.

I could feel my first sensations of full-dive gameplay in two

months sharpening every virtual nerve that had once been so

honed by my last experience. The narrow steeples of the castle at

the center of town grew closer.

When, suddenly—

The image froze solid. Tiny shards of polygonal material splintered away, and digital noise crawled over my vision like lightning. The level of detail in the game grew cruder and cruder until

it resembled a digital mosaic. The world melted and crumbled

away.

"Wh-what is this?" I wailed and abruptly felt myself plunging

again. I fell down and down, endless blackness beneath me.

"What the hell's going on heeere—"

My helpless scream was swallowed by the void and snuffed

into silence.