Ha no Ie
 

by K.A. Rose


Stage 15:
Make It Leave
 
 

    "What the hell is it?"
    The light of Sanjuro's sword had been enough to catch a glimpse of the structure, but they required a higher-intensity glow in order to see it clearly. So Sanjuro had sacrificed the last of his weapons to the purpose.
    Pointing the flashlight upward, the spotlight fell over thick blocks of black stone, circling around a center beam, framed by an unornamented railing.
    It was inexcusably a stairwell.
    Sideways.
    "What does this mean for us?" Sanjuro wondered aloud. They had foregone conversing through PMs again as too cumbersome, especially when there were no walls around for echo. "Does it mean that we're sideways, on a wall?"
    Kite shook his head. "It might not be the same Staircase."
    "It is," Sora insisted, sounding slightly spooked. "But..."
    "Should we try to get up to it?" Kite suggested.
    "And do what?" Sanjuro asked. "Try to climb it?"
    "Who knows..."
    Sanjuro directed the flashlight to the right, then the left, letting the beam extend as far as it could in either direction before the light could reach no further. The beam ended, it seemed, much sooner than the Staircase would.
    "I don't like it," Sora said. Kite detected a slight tremble in his voice he knew the other Twin Blade was struggling to suppress. "It's just... hanging there. Like, you know, those big whale skeletons suspended from the ceilings in museums..."
    "Yeah..."
    Sora took a few steps back. "Maybe we should keep moving," he said.
    Or meant to say.
    He dropped so suddenly there was almost no time for reaction, barely enough for him to give a short yelp before disappearing over an edge that had not previously existed. Followed by the shriek of metal against stone.
    Kite snapped his head around, saw the Sora-shaped hole in his field of vision, and immediately tore his gaze down.
    Sora looked back up at him.
    "...Thank god," he wheezed.
    "Maybe a little later," Sora grunted.
    He hung maybe fourty feet down, both blades imbedded up to the hilt into the side of the ledge. Deep gouges were lodged into the rock above it; some reflex that Kite could only marvel at had kicked in somewhere on the way down.
    "Jesus. You all right?" Sanjuro asked, having joined Kite by the edge.
    "Keep asking me that and I won't be," Sora huffed, eyes scrunched up in concentration. He took a few deep breaths. Glanced down. Immediately regretted it. "Ffffuck..."
    He was hanging over nothing. Without light he couldn't tell just how far the shadows ran, or if a bottom existed at all. He didn't know which was worse. He didn't want to know. Didn't want to--
    Sora bit his lip, clamping his eyes shut. Now was not the time to discover a latent fear of heights.
    Ha. Ha.
    He sucked in breath again. Cold, stale air. "Okay. I'm coming up now."
    "How--"
    "Justshutupandletmeconcentrate," he snapped back. His arms were starting to hurt.
    His arms were starting to hurt.
    God, no, he thought, trembling. You really are over the edge now, aren't you...
                                                                                                                              ...Just don't tell Kite.
    Forcing all his weight into keeping the left blade lodged in place, Sora carefully, painstakingly, slowly retracted the right blade until it clunked back into his bracer.
    He could hear Kite holding his breath, for fuck's sake.
    Then, just as slowly, using mostly his left arm for propulsion but also pushing up --mostly futily-- with both legs, Sora reached up and pressed the hilt of the bracer on a spot of stone a foot and a half higher than the last. Waited for the click of the metal against stone, and clenched his fist. Heard razor-sharp metal scream as the blade punched through.
    And then, once satisfied with its strength, Sora did it again with the left blade.
    "Are you sure about this?" Kite asked, voice wavering, after Sora had ascended about eight feet.
    "Yes," Sora answered, voice thick under the strain. "Don't worry. I read about it in a book once."
    "That's not much comfort."
    "Look, this is kinda difficult, so if you don't mind..."
    Kite respectfully fell silent. He bit down a "sorry" for fear it would only agitate the Twin Blade further, and stole a quick glance over at Sanjuro. The samurai was looking right back at him.
    After 20 feet, Kite's agony still had not subsided. That Sora had made it past the half-way mark did not prove any matter of comfort. But he couldn't ask Sora to speed things up or anything...
    At 29 feet, the roar that had plagued them earlier came back, so jarring that Kite and Sanjuro were both nearly pitched forward over the edge. Kite yelped, the two of them landing hard on their knees near the ledge and clutching to the ground as best they could even as it rocked. The bones in their hands that held their controllers rattled with the vibration.
    The growl of the house, of the Creature, of something, had barely had time to subside when Kite heard another sound, rising up from below as clear as the sharpest church bell on Christmas day.
    Sora's right blade had snapped.
    Weapons in The World did not break. This was not a property they were meant to have. Earlier videogames had put forth the idea of weapons that would take on damage and it was met with such frustrated outcry on the part of players that in designing The World, CC Corporation knew better than to implement such a feature. Spears never broke. Staffs never ran dry. Blades stayed sharp. This was one of the grassroots fundamentals of the game's design.
    But still it broke.
    Shattered, twisted shards of metal floating down and catching glints of light off Sora's Rig Saem and Sanjuro's flashlight until even that couldn't reach them anymore. Sora's right arm swinging, windmilling, fingers clawing at a gap too small to fit a coin through much less give him purchase, fingers sliced open against the chunks of blade still lodged inside, as his breathing quickened into a panic, feeling the other blade even then start to slip, unable to hold itself in place under the increased strain--
    "SORA!!" Kite cried out, despite himself, leaning far too forward over the edge for caution to allow. Sanjuro tried in vain to hold him back, ended up overextending himself as well, a silent communal thought racing through both their brains.
    Rope. Now. Hurry.
    Through gasping hyperventilating breaths, Sora managed gruffly, "i'm al lright1 dont; worrydammit."
    "Just stay there. We're going to hack up a rope to lower." Even as he said it Sanjuro was pulling up the script from his desktop to begin the item hack.
    "itll jsut break!1" Sora shouted.
    "It'll last long enough! Just hang on!"
    Too far. Too far away. He's over twenty feet down. If the rope doesn't work, we can't--
    The left blade took a sudden jolt forward and slid halfway out, before the swing of Sora's body tilted it upward and the tip caught the roof of the hole. If it bought any time at all, it was a matter of seconds.
    "AAH!"
    "Hold on, Sora!"
    Please. Please--
    "It's no good," Sanjuro was moaning, "I can't get the hack to--"
    If he had said more it was lost among the cacophony, as the house roared and shook, the blade screamed as it lost the last of its purchase, and its owner screamed with it.
    "NO!" Kite shouted, diving an arm forward with hand outstretched despite the futility of it all, held back from falling only by his remaining companion, the two of them watching by the last of the light of the failing flashlight hack as Sora tumbled, clawing with bracer and blade and fingers against the uniform stone, the left blade, still intact, and the jagged remains of his right, striking rock and tearing streams of white-hot sparks up into the darkness as he fell, the sparks growing less and less frequent as he drifted farther from the wall, or ran out of strength, and then at last the sparks dimmed and faded and the last hint of Sora and everything of him had disappeared into the abyss.
    Before he even realized he had moved, Kite had stood up and begun to pause his game, his visor already halfway off as he said, "I'm calling him."
    "Wait a second," Sanjuro said urgently. "This is an unstable area. We shouldn't--"
    "I'm calling him!"
 
 
 

    floating

    falling

    can't tell
 

    cold air
 

    getting colder
 
 

    where is
 
 
 

    going down
 
 
 
 

    getting dizzy
 
 
 
 

    can't feel
 
 
 

rrrriiiiiiinnnngg
            what?
 
 

                      I

rrrriiiiiiinnnngg
                            it
 

                                                                                                                                  rrrriiiiiiinnnngg
                                      don't know
 

                                                                                                                rrrriiiiiiinnnngg
                                                        can't

I'm--rrrriiiiiiinnnngg













    Sora opened his eyes. He blinked a few times to be sure of this activity, because what he saw was only black.
    He breathed. In. Out. Weak lungs ached reassuringly in his chest.

rrrriiiiiiinnnngg
    Then, slowly, every muscle spasming with the terrible effort, he raised his hand to his face and pulled the visor from his eyes. And though the lights of his bedroom made his eyes burn, he refused to flinch.
rrrriiiiiiinnnngg
    I'm here. I'm still here.
rrrriiiiiiinnnngg
    He realized belatedly that he was lying on his back on his floor, and some unknown part of him, certainly not any element consciously operating in his mind, seemed able to connect his sensations of falling through that darkness to falling from his computer chair.
rrrriiiiiiinnnngg
    What was that sound?
rrrriiiiiiinnnngg
    Wait--
rrrriiiiiiinnnngg
    No--
rrrriiii--
                                                                                                      "Hello?" came the dulled murmur of his mother from the bedroom next door.
    Sora's eyes widened painfully. His breathing that had helped to stir him from the last of his dizziness constricted, made his lungs burn.
    No, oh god, no...
    "What?" his mother asked, puzzled. The walls were thin in their little apartment. "Who?"
    No, she can't, she can't see me like this...
    "Are you nuts? My son doesn't have any friends. 'Least not ones that call at... Yeah. 3 AM. Thank you. Can't this wait until tomorrow? He's not even awake."
    Got to get up... Have to get up...
    His body, frail and weak as it was, seemed to have become weighted down with bags of sand in his absence. He strained to move his limbs, pull himself over onto his side--
    "Kids your age are crazy. Studying this late... Okay, fine, I'll go see..."
    There was the creaking squeal of an ancient mattress, the headboard banging against their shared wall, the depressive, put-upon sigh of a harried woman sitting up and pulling on her bathrobe, shaking off sleepiness enough to function but not enough to stay awake the rest of the night.
    Sora succeeded in rolling over onto his stomach, one arm pinned beneath him, the other struggling fruitlessly against the carpet, legs kicking in the effort to release the weight on his trapped arm. The front right leg of his chair hovered maybe six inches in front of his vision but it seemed like miles.
    Keep moving-- Just got to keep moving--
    He managed to wrest his other arm free, as he heard his mother standing up and groaning a little, stretching. He reached forward and forced his fingers to move, to obey, wrap around the leg of the chair and pull him forward, a few inches, skin burning from the friction against the carpet, head swimming--
    Heard his mother's door unlock, swing open--
    Only twelve feet to his door, a billion miles to get into his chair--
    His other arm was like jelly, incapable of controlled movement. He succeeded only in getting it to move by swinging it bodily up, enough to land on the seat of his chair, crawl forward on fingers until they managed to grasp something solid--
    Footsteps out in the hallway--
    Pull, goddammit, pull up--
    Feel his body move, summoning every ounce of strength, calling every cell in his brain to attention in the strain of concentration--
    Footsteps getting closer--
    Arm on the back rest, pull his legs up, feeling like they were made of lead--
    Almost. Come on-- It's the same as the wall--
    The cessation of the footsteps as they reached the outside of his door--
    Seated, almost falling forward, throwing hands forward fast enough to brace himself on his desk, drift to the keyboard--
    Can't let her see--
    The handle started to turn--
    Fingers fumbling, going in the opposite direction his brain asked, vision too blurred to distinguish the writing, finally coordinating enough to find the right keys-- press-- minimize the game window--
    The door started to creak open, the influx of air as his open window began to push air inward, tossing up the curtains--
    Sit up straight like in school, Sora-kun--
    And Mrs. Yanaka opened the door into her son's room, to see him seated dutifully at his computer chair with a half-finished essay document open on his desktop.
    He looked over his shoulder at her, blinking.
    She hesitated.
    "Why are all your lights on?" she said eventually, seeming suddenly at a loss. "You going to pay the electric bill?"
    He may have said something, but if his destroyed voice wasn't bad enough on its own, he had an awful tendency to eat half his sentences even has he uttered them.
    "Studying at this time of night. On Christmas. Kids your age are pushed way too hard."
    He may have tried to smile. It failed in any event.
    "You have a phone call," she said, giving up. She held the receiver --mic cupped with her hand-- up for him to see. "Says he's a friend of yours in class, Koushiro Aida? He wanted to know about the velocity of kites at certain wind speeds-- Oh good," Mrs. Yanaka said, seeing the recognition spark belatedly on Sora's face. "I thought he was pranking."
    She travelled awkwardly across her son's floor, tripping twice on the number of tape measurers he had covered the carpet with, wall to wall, straight parallel lines and diagonals as if possessed with finding some irregularity in their measurement. She didn't even want to know. It wasn't worth it at 3 AM.
    When she offered out the phone, he extended his hand in a careful, fluid movement, as if he was pooling all concentration into the action, and his weakened eyes never left her face even as he accepted the receiver.
    "Thanks, Mama," he said quietly. His voice was only as loud as a cat's whisper.
    "Y--yeah," Mrs. Yanaka replied, paling for reasons she couldn't quite understand. She shook herself of the sensation and continued, "Well, I'm going back to bed. Don't talk too loud."
    "Okay, Mama."
    "Right." She backed away a few feet, thankfully avoiding the tape measurers this time. She turned quickly on her heel and retreated. But as she reached the doorway, she paused and looked back.
    Her son was still staring at her, waiting patiently for her departure. She swallowed and said, "Er, Sora..."
    No verbal response, but he acknowledged her with a look.
    "Your hand, um..."
    Sora blinked, puzzled. His eyes drifted down to the hand that clasped the phone receiver, and turned it around for a better look.
    What seemed to be a sharp chunk of gray metal, two inches at the longest point, was imbedded in the back of his hand, dark red blood caked around its edge.
    He eyed it suspiciously, then, without apparent emotion for the action, reached forward with his other hand and slowly extracted the shard from his skin, exuding a low, sick, wet sound as he pulled it out. He turned it over in his fingers, caring not to cut himself, and held it up near his face to examine.
    Mrs. Yanaka found words failing her at this sight. She left without a sound.
    Sora barely noticed her passing. He glanced at the ground where he had awoken. A great number of metal shards lay there among the carpet, some tipped with blood. At the same time, he became aware of small, stinging cuts along his arms and legs.
    I wonder if I've got all the pieces here... enough to have the whole blade back...
    Sora made a note to gather up the splinters later...
    His eyes drifted back to the phone. This was more pressing.
    A thought went through his head that might have seemed petty and trivial in the circumstances, but it was, in fact, only made more horrifying to him because of these. It turned everything else into a happy dream compared to this nightmare.
    He's on the phone. I'm going to hear his voice.
    He's going to hear my voice.
    My god, I sound horrible, he's going to think I'm stupid, he'll hate me, he'll hang up and never talk to me again--
    But time was ticking. He had to do something. Kite might already have hung up from waiting so long.
    Heart pounding, bleeding hand shaking a little, Sora raised the phone to his ear.
    He didn't know how, because he did not recognize making any sort of sound, but somehow the person on the other end seemed to know right when Sora's ear had reached the speaker.
    "Sora," Kite said.
    He sounded so mature. A little high-pitched for a 16-year-old, but the voice was controlled. Smooth. It spoke of age and experience and competency and confidence and friendliness and brotherhood and compassion and strength and all the things Sora had ever found in him in The World, even the things he didn't consciously know were there. And he had used all of that, in that one little voice, to say one thing. His name.
    Sora hated the comparison, but his heart felt like the marble inside a Ramune bottle.
    He swallowed, and stomached every last illness-inducing butterfly, leaving only a stinging numbness as he said weakly, "Kite."
    He'll hate me, Sora thought. He'll never want to speak to me again. That one little word...
    But Kite's reaction was far different. It wasn't a laugh, even a brief chuckle, though there was a self-ridiculing humor there, a short exhale of incomparable relief.
    "You're all right?"
    "Nn," Sora answered. His throat felt dry.
    And then something completely unexpected. Kite's voice began to break. "Thank god."
    Were you really that concerned...?
    "Listen, Sora," Kite said, recovering a little. "You're not going back in."
    Sora reacted loudly, or what qualified as loud for him. "But--!"
    "No, Sora. I don't want to risk you anymore. Go back to the field and wait with Elk. Sanjuro and I are on our way back now anyway. We'll be seeing you soon."
    Promise. Ask him to promise, something in the back of Sora's mind prodded.
    "Kite..."
    "Yes?"
    Say it, it begged. Get his word. Otherwise...
    "I--"
    Otherwise you might not see him ever again.
    "Sora?"
    "...Ganbatte ne, Kite."
 
 

    I'm such an idiot.
 
 
 

    Sanjuro stood to his feet as Kite's character model unfroze, signalling his return into the game.
    "Everything all right?"
    "He'll be fine," Kite told him. "Seemed close, though. Maybe even a fluke. I'm not trying our luck again."
    "So what's our game plan now? Go back?"
    "I don't think we can."
    Sanjuro started. "But--"
    "We can wander. That's about all we can do," Kite said soberly. "We've lost all sense of orientation now. Our supplies are low. Sora has the largest stores left, and now between the two of us we might be able to last until 4 o'clock, but not much after. Plus, when I tried to pause earlier, it was difficult."
    "How do you mean?"
    "As if something was physically holding me back."
    "You mean..."
    Kite lowered his head. "I'm sorry that I've involved you in this. All of you."
    "I should be sorry," Sanjuro said morosely. "I'm sure you'd much rather be here with Elk or Sora than me. At least Sora."
    "I don't get your line of reasoning. You have no control over what happens here. Besides," Kite said reassuringly, "you're a good person, Sanjuro."
    "I wonder sometimes..." Sanjuro trailed off, fingers twitching a little. The sensation of being without some kind of sword was foreign to him. He was growing uneasy. "But, in any event, we should get moving."
 
 

    Elk was getting tired. He had had only three visitors in the past five hours, and two of those were members of the same party. The servers at this time of night were either more desolate than normal, or word had gotten out to stay away.
    One thing was for sure. Lios had not locked the field.
    Other things were becoming progressively more certain in Elk's mind as well. The fact was it was now just past 3 o'clock in the morning on 26 December, and in a few hours the sun would rise.
    After that, trouble would begin.
    Worse yet, Elk feared he coudn't be here when he was finally needed. Fatigue was making its presence known now.
    A human body is not meant to survive on adrenaline for extended periods of time. Particularly of the brand coming only from a mental or emotional rush, with no physical threat being posed. Elk had lasted as long as he could on his own, then with soda and the last of his caffeine pills (some punk elementary school kid had stolen his bottle on the way back from cram school earlier), but even that was losing its effect now.
    And perhaps worst of all, he had no way of knowing whether his struggle was worth anything at all.
    He'd conducted ping requests for the first hour, even though they had timed out after the first fifteen. His hand had moved to the phone next to his monitor more than once, but each time he had withdrawn, paranoia dominating all other breeds of fear.
    Elk knew that if it was Mia here instead of him, she wouldn't be so terrified. She wouldn't let her apprehensions overtake her like they had him. But Mia wasn't here. And she couldn't use a phone anyway.
    Heh...
    His ears twinged at a new sound coming through the hum of his silent headphones, and his heart gave a jump.
    "Ano," he said in his best assertive voice, before he even began to turn toward the spawn point to address the warp-in, "I'm sorry, but this area is off-lim--" He stopped.
    Arms crossed over the back of his head, eyes cast down, Sora walked awkwardly toward him.
    Elk stole a quick glance back at the door before fixing his gaze on the Twin Blade again. "How...?"
    "I dropped out," Sora mumbled, letting his arms drop. A toe of a boot kicked at the grass. "'Guess it beat me in the end..."
    "What about the others?" Elk persisted. "Are they--?"
    "They're still inside," Sora answered, stopping the Wavemaster short. "Still in one piece s'far as I know."
    "Are you going back in?"
    Sora's laugh was short, sharp, and rueful. "'Oniisan' told me to hang out here."
 
 

    Tsukasa's head throbbed, in time with her pounding heart.
    She had seen Sora fall into the abyss. She had watched him disappear, had watched Kite nearly dive in after him, heard them cry out as the house shook all around them. But even before it had subsided another tumult had begun that only Tsukasa could not escape from.
    She had heard of those with clairaudience, able to hear the thoughts of others. But it had always been demonstrated on TV and in books as some quiet, subtle experience, lurking and subdued.
    Here, now, in this place, thoughts screamed.
    Tsukasa physically recoiled, cringing from the noise against which there was no defense. Terror that had no words to express shot through her brain like bolts of electricity, unstoppable, unfilterable. Raw, uncensored emotion, clawing at the inside of her skull that blood would drain from her ears and eyes, tear her apart down to the smallest, indiscernable fragments.
    Things she could not repeat to anyone, anywhere, even to herself. Deep parts of minds that were not and should not be shared with other living creatures. Things even their originators were unaware existed within them.
    It was not just Sora, Kite and Sanjuro now, but others too, swarming in on every side like moths to a brilliant blue flame. A hundred voices, a thousand, clamouring and shrieking around inside her head, a moaning crowd of warping, morphing ghosts grasping air and crawling forward, trodding over one another to get close to her.
    She swung at them, futily, with her wand, its crescent head swiping right through their paled, inconstant forms, doing nothing to subdue or stop them in her tracks, only making them scream louder. The thoughts were now not individually distinguishable from one another, they coiled together, weaved in and out of one another, fighting for dominance or allying with common notes, a symphony of raw, bleeding agony.
    Breath was short. She was getting dizzy from the lack of air. When she did manage to gasp for breath it was only to fuel dry, desperate sobs, driving out what little remains of control she still possessed as the panic took a lasting hold.
    She allowed her wand to fall soundlessly onto the invisible floor. She clamped her hands over her ears. But the sound was not entering there, and all the effort did was strengthen the echoes inside her head.
    "Stop it!" she cried, falling to her knees and curling in on herself. "STOP IT!"
    And in an instant, every single voice had silenced, leaving only a stinging absence that rung in her bruised ears.

    And then she was left with nothing. Save her own thoughts.
 
 

    "Kite."
    No answer. Sanjuro frowned, stopping in his tracks and bodily grabbing the Twin Blade's shoulder. The boy jerked to a halt, swaying, head swinging limply upward.
    "Hh? Wha?"
    "You've been zoning out. Are you okay?"
    "Nnh? Yeah," Kite said weakly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I guess I'm just getting tired..."
    It was half past three o'clock now. They had been inside the house for over five hours now without break, and though this paled in comparison to Exploration #4, to say nothing of the Holloway Expedition, they were steadily getting worn down. Between dealing with the strange properties of this area of the dungeon, being at the ends of their supplies, and at a loss for a strong source of light, as well as other things they weren't very willing to acknowledge, fatigue was setting in hard and fast.
    Sanjuro straightened up, an effect lessened without a weapon to shoulder. "Go get something to eat."
    "But--"
    "It'll be all right. I'll keep an eye out."
    "Right, well, when I get back we're switching off. You need to eat too."
    "Thanks, but I'm all right. One of the benefits of living alone is that no one will complain if you put your computer in the kitchen."
    Kite tried to laugh. The effort was obviously there. But it wasn't really a laugh when it came out.
    Instead he stretched his arms and made to pause his game, but stopped short, drawing his left arm in sharply. "Ow!"
    "What is it?" Sanjuro asked quickly, alarmed by the action.
    The shorter PC rubbed the back of his shoulder, fighting down a pained groan. "I'd noticed it a bit earlier but-- My arm hurts for some reason."
    "Muscle strain? If you've been sitting in one position for a long time..."
    "No, I don't think-- I dunno. Nevermind. It's not important."
    His expression said otherwise, but Sanjuro let it go. "Take some painkillers while you're out as well, if it isn't going away."
    "Kind of weird to hear that from a self-professed samurai," Kite said wryly. "Aren't you supposed to tell me to tough it out and be a man about it?"
    "A distraction's a distraction," Sanjuro said, shrugging. "And you've said it yourself, you don't get the machismo thing."
    Kite cringed with the memory. "Please, you weren't even there."
    "I've heard about it. Now just get going."
    "You'll be all right?"
    "Certain of it."
    Sanjuro couldn't help feeling a slight bit of relief when Kite finally departed. Even now when they were both expected to put forth more than their share of effort in getting through this place, Kite was trying far too hard. Whether he liked being reminded of the fact or not, he was still a kid.
    He knew better than to pass judgement on such a factor, of course, at least not now. During 'the Ordeal' most of his compatriots in the fight against Morganna had been school-aged. Kite himself had only been a meager 8th-grader at the time. An amazingly competent and mature 8th-grader who had just saved not only the online World but the physical one as well. Stuff like that only happened in anime.
    "..."
    In the silence that descended upon the pair following Kite's departure, the darkness had taken on a new edge. The light provided by their Rig Saem provided little comfort in the face of this presence, and with Kite being the only one left with the materials to hack up a flashlight, Sanjuro became suddenly, acutely aware of how limited their scope of vision was.
    And more than that, that they were sitting targets for whatever else might be out there.
    Who am I kidding? Sanjuro thought, allowing at least his inner monologue to slip back into English.  Sit around and be paranoid like that all day, it'll only wear you out...
    He tried to relax. He knew better than to assume this was really possible, but it didn't stop him from the attempt. He should try to conserve his energy somehow, even if it was mostly futile.
    But when Sanjuro heard something behind him, he spun to face the sound. And his eyes immediately went wide.
 
 

    "There."
    It was the first sound to come from Lios in well over an hour. Helba, Wiseman, and several others in the area halted their own discussions and turned their attention to the administrator, their eyes drawn to where his index finger stabbed a portion of the graphical map.
    A small red dot, blinking every few seconds as from a sonar ping, lay just under his fingertip. A single kanji hovered over it.
    "He's reappeared, see that?"
    "Out from the house?" Helba inquired, vying for a better view.
    "No. Just logged back on, by the look of it. But he's there now. Which means..."
    "Possibly, that he was never absorbed in the first place," Helba said, without caring to conceal her disdain for Lios's now obsolete assumptions. "Which calls into question a great many things." Without waiting for his acknowledgement, she switched the views on the paper scroll until the loading dock screen's grid appeared. Still nothing. She switched again. "See!"
    There, in the upper right, were two dots, one with kanji and the other with katakana, a distinguishing mark even before they read the exact word. It was Sanjuro and Kite.
    "As far as we're aware, the conditions inside the dungeon haven't changed," said Wiseman, fixated, as they all were, on the two dots as if worried they might cease to exist if they looked away. "This might indicate that our loss of a signal was the result of spatial interference, moreso than a failure of the figures to transmit information. Something may, in fact, be blocking the Ziggurat B trace data."
    "They're being protected," Mia interpretted. "Is that it?"
    "But in that case," Lios said apprehensively, "what's happened to our man on the spot?"
 
 

    "You're worried, aren't you."
    Sora didn't realize he had been staring off into space until Elk's voice jerked him out of it.
    "Huh?"
    "About Kite," said Elk, unphased. Though he probably knew Sora was presently eyeballing him, he kept his own vision centered straight ahead, fixed on the brick wall that lined the small courtyard. He sighed. "You don't have to dodge it or anything. It's pretty obvious."
    Sora said nothing.
    "Don't act like it's a bad thing or whatever," Elk continued, unprompted. "It's good to let people know you're human sometimes. Besides, Kite'd probably be relieved you've eased up a bit." He allowed the head of his staff to rest against his shoulder. It had a gray crescent head with a red stone floating at its center, a copy of Tsukasa's, given to him just as Sora had given his blades to Kite.
    Sora, contemplating on this, looked down at his own hands. The left blade was retracted, but the right one was jammed, only a broken-off, jagged claw. It hadn't regenerated when he'd logged back in.
    Realistically he shouldn't have been so upset. They were just old blades. Level 34. He could pick up a new pair at the Carmina Gadelica marketplace and no one would have been able to tell the difference.
    But it did make a difference...
    "I'm sure he'll be okay. Sanjuro too."
    Sora's eyes did not leave his hands. "You think that?"
    "I'd hope so. Otherwise you'll get yourself sick worrying so much."
    "Hey now..."
    "I know how it is," Elk insisted, sounding a little wistful. He was watching the trees now. "Every time Mia goes away I worry so much. I've tried to get myself to calm down, 'cause I know she'll always be okay, but..."
    That, finally, took Sora out of himself enough to speak up. "Ehn, but aren't you and Mia kinda..." He made a small gesture with his hand.
    Elk blushed, forcing his eyes to the floor so that his bangs would cover most of his face. Sora had a hunch the expression wasn't just limited to the game version of him. "Well-- That is-- Kids your age sure have their minds in the gutter!"
    Sora was about to challenge the remark, wondering just how many people had guessed his age by now, but Elk continued, "The thing is, Mia isn't... well.. real, so we can't really..."
    "50u k4..." Sora said. He paused awkwardly, at a loss for anything else to say. He scratched the back of his head, saying, "Well, that's gotta suck..."
    "I don't mind so much, it's just--" Elk stopped mid-syllable at the emergence of the warp-in sound. "Excuse me!" he said, beginning to turn to address the newcomer. "This area is off-limits. Could you please--"
    And that was the second time that morning that Elk found his speech cut off.
 
 

            "What are you doing here?" Mimiru asked, ever the mother figure. "You just got out of the hospital! You
            should be resting!"
            "Sorry," the Tsukasa of memory mumbled. "I just... I was hoping to see..."
            "Subaru? You two really like each other, don't you..."
            "No. Not Subaru. Well, yes, Subaru. But I can see her anytime, because..." She ducked her head, forcing
            herself to eat the latter half of the sentence. Some things should only be treasured by one person. "No, that
            is, I wanted to see Sora. To thank him. It's all due to his efforts that we survived at all."
            The noise Mimiru made could only be registered as distaste. "You so sure about that? I'll bet if we fought,
            we could have made it on our own without that weirdo's help."
            "It's really not about that," Tsukasa said, but without much emphasis of conviction. "The fact is that he did.
            So, we owe him. I owe him. But he hasn't been around at all..."
            "He doesn't like hanging around in towns, y'know."
            "Well, I even posted on the BBS and everyone who came back said they hadn't seen them at all since that
            day, and it's not like he's anything if not noticable. And we never did find out what happened to him, what
            with Helba deleting the field and all..."
            Now even the Heavy Blade was looking concerned. A little, anyway. "Come to think of it, yeah, we don't
            know what happened after we left that place, do we? And after we got back that big creature thing--"
            "Skeith."
            "--Yeah. That thing was coming after us. Do you think, if it came from the place with the Voice..."
            "I'm sure he's all right," Tsukasa said resolutely. "Isn't he pretty much indestructable?"
    Come to think of it, the present Tsukasa thought, watching the scene, it wasn't until much later that we found out what happened, was it? But I wasn't here, then, was I?
    I was at a new school.
    Bear was fighting a custody battle for me.
    Mimiru took me shopping in Shimokita.
    I was using my phone time to call Subaru, not go online...
            "Sakuma-san? Nn. Yeah, it's Tsukasa. Listen, are you busy right now? I meant to ask you, concerning my
            living arrangements when I'm out of school--...... No, look, I'm sure it's very nice at your place. That's not
            what was on my mind..... No, see, the thing is, I talked it over with Nazuka-san..... Yeah, Subaru..... Well,
            we talked about it, and she's got her own place and it's a bit further out toward the suburbs..... Yeah.....
            Yeah, I know..... Look, I'm not--...... I'm not expecting you to understand, okay? You respect this is how I
            am and I'll respect that you're old-fashioned. I want to move in with my girlfriend. That's just the fact of it."
    You just wanted to keep me because you wanted a son again. A good one.
            "I love you. Ohh, I hope that didn't sound like I just belted it out," Subaru said, covering her mouth with her
            hands, blushing. "I had to say it sooner or later, because I knew I'd be saying it. I love you, Mitsuki."
    You were the first person to ever call me that. Even my dad just said "aitsu."
            "Marry me," the Tsukasa of memory whispered in her lover's ear. Lying in bed together, arms cradling the
            older girl's shoulders.
            "You're too young," Subaru giggled affectionately. "Let's wait until you're out of high school before we start
            thinking about that."
            "Young? You think I'm young?"
            "Still a teenager is young, Mitsuki."
            "..."
            "Mitsuki? Is something wrong?"
                                                                   "Yes, something's wrong!"
                                                                                                                   You take me into your home, I care
                                                                                       for you, I make love to you that you tell me no one, man
                                                                                      or woman, will ever compare, I ask you to marry me and
                                                                                                                                       you tell me I'm too young?
                                                    "God, you're drunk."
                                                        "Shut up."
                                                                                                                "Where were you last night?"
                                                                                                                "I was here... Why?"
                                                                                                                "You don't have to lie to me, Subaru."
                                                                                                                "For God's sake, Mitsuki, where would
                                                                                                                I even go?!"
                             "Oh, quit crying! Aren't you older than me?"
                             "What's happened to you, Mitsuki?!"
                             "What's happened to me? What's happened
                             to you? Can't you act your age?"
                             "Can't you act yours?"
                                                                                            "Don't touch me again, Mitsuki,
                                                                                            I swear to God!"
                                                                                            "Now--"
                                                                                            "GET AWAY FROM ME!"
                                                    "How could I ever fall in love with you?!"
            "Who are you talking to? Is that Crim on the phone?"
            "I'm getting out of this house, Mitsuki! I'm going away until you come to your senses again!"
            "Like hell you're leaving! Get off the phone. Subaru, GET OFF THE PHONE!"
            "I'm not going to be afraid of you, Mitsuki!"
                                                                                   "Afraid? Why afraid? What am I doing wrong?"
dull hard thumps pounding fireworks going off in front of my vision pain thud blood bleeding aching crying
                                         what the fuck did you do that for?!
                                                                                                    "I warned you," said Crim. "Never make Subaru cry."
 
 
 

    Sanjuro looked back and forth between the faces of his two comrades.
    "What do you mean?" he asked. "Has Kite not come back out yet?"
    "Last I knew, he was with you," Sora said, unable to keep nervousness out of his voice.
    "He went AfK for a second, and then my phone rang..." Sanjuro scratched his head with one hand. The other one held his glowing katana that he had previously lost inside the dungeon. He wasn't particularly religious, but he had to thank whatever was responsible for his character dying and reverting back to the last save. And without him with it. "I answered in Japanese because I thought it might be him, puzzled the hell out of my neighbor. You know that Judge_X kid, the one that helped the Holloway Team? He's dead."
    This information fell over the two as a slow wave over a beach. When it finally sunk in, it was Elk to say, "How?"
    "Suicide."
    "They're not connecting you to it at all, are they?"
    "I wish I knew," Sanjuro said apprehensively. "That was about when my power shut off and I got disconnected. I'm no techie, but I think I got a massive power surge. Who knows from where. Took the folks up in Pierre fifteen minutes to reset the grid. A good thing Kite had my cell number too..."
    "So he's all right then?" Sora asked, in what Sanjuro felt was a remarkable display of focus. Or maybe fixation.
    "Last I heard. But, of course, we've got a different problem now." Sanjuro took a breath, mainly to calm himself. "Kite is inside the house, much farther than any of us have ever ventured. And now, he's all alone."
 

End Stage 15.

>>Stage 16: Build A Casket for My Tears

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