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The inside of Dicey Café is permeated by its usual noises: the frustrated grunts following one of Klein’s intentionally lame jokes, the heated arguments about builds and in-game politics, and, naturally, the constant teasing aimed at Kirito.
Shino stifles back a smile when Asuna calls her ‘Sinonon,’ and it almost slips out as Rika elbows her arm, knowing of her façade. She doesn’t know if she loves or hates how those two have become so close to her so fast. Agil waves a dismissive hand as she pulls out her wallet to pay for her cake, and she has to stave off her befuddlement before managing to mumble out thanks. She remembers when her bullies made her pay for their things.
Amongst such joyous chatter, Shino felt like she didn’t belong.
It’s hard to recall the last time she was surrounded by people who seemed to genuinely care for her. In her past sixteen years of life, memories of being accepted in such a way were hardly found.
The calls, the texts, the invitations to hang out, the delicate words chosen around her. The chorused “ Sinon, you’re so cool! ” resounded by the girls as she saved Excalibur in Jötunheimr still echoes through her mind at times.
She wishes thinking about it didn’t make her feel so fuzzy inside. It wasn’t a matter of whether to receive these people’s feelings or not, the question was how . The closest thing to such a sense of belonging for her would be–
The time she spent with Shinkawa.
I have someone I trust on the other side , she had told Kirito. What a joke. Months of being strung along, falling hook, line and sinker for the honeyed words of a monster.
You can’t forget that’s what people are. Monsters. Some take longer to show their true colors, but they’re all the same in the end.
She knows that’s not true, but it’s hard. The wounds that Shinkawa– Death Gun, left, are still fresh, scarring. She refuses to compare the warmth of these people to the obsession of an impostor. She tries. But their words, fond to the core, mirror his just moments before pointing the syringe at her skin.
“Sinonon,” Asuna’s voice reaches out to her, and she can hear the smile in her voice without looking up from her drink. Shino can’t look her in the eyes, though; not when she’s having thoughts like this, when the world is spinning and nothing feels real.
She’s barely able to make out that Asuna is asking if she wants to accompany them to karaoke after they’re done here.
“I’m sorry, but I think I’ll have to pass,” she answers, voice hoarse. “Actually, I’m not sure I’m feeling well right now. I should probably be heading home.”
“Oh no, are you feeling ill? I’m sure Kirito can give you a ride home if you need–”
“It’s fine,” she says with a weak smile. There’s something about Asuna’s tone, so genuine, that repulses her at that moment. “I appreciate it, but there’s no need to worry about me. I’ll talk to you guys later.”
They all bid her goodbye and wish her well, and conversation mostly returns to normal while the bells on the door ring as she walks out of the bar. Agil and Rika return to their discussion about liquor blends while Kirito disapprovingly reminds them of Japan’s legal drinking age. Asuna and Keiko start researching damage values for ALO weapons on their phones because, listen, Klein, dexterity builds have always been viable.
The happy prattling Shino hears through the door fills her with remorse, but she heads home regardless.
She feels guilty leaving so suddenly, but she can’t handle them or their kindness right now. Not yet. She’s not sure when it’ll stop being a ‘not yet’.
Perhaps GGO would have been a better option if she was trying to avoid them, but the roaring of gunfire and the scent of gasoline aren’t as relaxing as the gentle breeze swaying in the green fields of New Aincrad. This time, at least. She’d be lying if she said Hecate’s weight in her arms didn’t keep her company more than once in similar situations.
The fact that she decided to do so by the 22nd Floor, where Kirito and Asuna’s player house is, probably means something. She tries to ignore that.
It’s hard, though, as she slouches on the puffy chair in the log house living room, listening to the soft crackling of the fire’s virtual embers. She figured just being near the house would help, like a phantom of their presence would dim her flaring anxiety, since their direct proximity gives her mixed results. She was surprised to find Asuna and Kirito had already registered her player account to the sub-owner list.
They’re too nice, and she doesn’t understand.
She tries to be near them even as she avoids them, and she doesn’t understand.
It’s embarrassing.
She hears a small tap on the window, the verdant silhouette of Leafa’s avatar motioning behind the glass. It's hard to tell, but she seems to be scanning the room.
Sinon’s heart races.
The bell rings as Shino leaves Dicey Café. Most of the group returns to their previous topics of conversation.
Suguha, however, keeps uncharacteristically quiet. She taps her feet restlessly and glances at the door every couple of minutes.
“Ah,” Suguha eventually squeaks out, rising from her chair. “Just remembered that I won’t be able to stay for karaoke either. I forgot about kendo club tomorrow.”
Tomorrow was Sunday.
Her brother squints his eyes at her for a moment, before smiling and shrugging. “Sure. See you tomorrow then, Sugu. Text me when you get home.”
“Of course, brother,” she says, before saying her goodbyes and leaving as well.
Klein points at the leftover cake on her plate.
“… Is anybody gonna eat that?”
What is she doing here? Shouldn’t she be at karaoke with the others?
Leafa simply waits by the window. Sinon briskly walks to the girl outside and opens it. They’re in the residential area, so Leafa’s avatar dons fancy green silks instead of the usual leather armor; it would be considered gaudy by anything other than a MMO’s questionable fashion standards.
"Mind if I come in?"
“... It’s not like this is my house, you know.”
“Haha, I know. It just feels like I am interrupting something.”
Leafa climbs in through the window, which confirms that, naturally, she had permission access as well. Sinon winces as Leafa scans the room. There’s no one there but themselves, and suddenly Sinon is painfully aware that she’ll have to explain to her why she is at her brother’s virtual house, sulking around by herself.
Leafa doesn’t interrogate her, however. Instead, she simply sits on the couch in the living room, tucking her knees to her chest as she starts navigating through a set of menu windows.
“Are you feeling any better?”
Shino almost forgets she left them thinking she was sick.
“I’m not sure,” she says, a half-truth. “I figured at least in the virtual world it wouldn’t feel as bad.”
Sinon knows she’s a bad liar, so she doesn’t lie. Evading, however, is a different story. Truthfully, she’s not sure she’s any better away from them than she was with them, though her avatar does present lesser anxious symptoms than her non-virtual body.
“Ah, I see. Yeah, it never worked for me when I tried it,” Leafa replies.
Did she also come to the virtual world when sick?
“When you tried what?”
“Avoiding our friends.”
Sinon’s heart drops to her stomach and she’s grateful that Leafa maintains her eyes on the hovering menu windows. She wishes that she was more used to ALO’s user interface so she could lunge for the logout button. Her tail ensnares her leg so hard that she’d be worried about leaving a mark if this wasn’t a game, but her face remains stoic.
“Was I that obvious?”
“Not really,” Leafa says and finally looks at her. “I’ve just done it enough to tell at this point.”
“... Done it enough?”
“I only met my brother’s friends somewhat recently, too. I’ve always felt a bit out of place among them, and I’m not proud to say there’s been times I ghosted them.” Leafa slouches more into the couch, so Sinon permits herself to do the same. “I’d wanted to be a part of his world, but when I was allowed to, I didn’t know what to do. They all had something that brought them together in a way that I could not even begin to understand. And really, I still don’t understand.”
Leafa smiles. A small, bittersweet one, a bit crooked and trembly. A part of her realizes that this has truly not changed; thankfully, she’ll never bear the marks of those two years of isolation on herself, but it’s still something that’ll always make her a bit distant from the few friends she has.
However.
“Still, they let me in. They became important to me, because I let them. These people entering my life was one of the best things to ever happen to me, but I guess… I know it’d be easier for me if someone other than my brother had reached out to me. So. I’m here.”
That’s all Leafa says before going quiet and dismissing the floating windows. She looks at Sinon sympathetically. She doesn’t push it. She sits there unknowing of what to expect in return, extending what amounts to a silent invitation. Her hands clench at the fabric on her lap.
Sinon is not sure how to react. Leafa herself looks nervous, perhaps worried that what she’s saying is presumptuous, if not simply nonsensical, instead of empathetic. Sinon crosses her arms against her stomach. She knows showing her nervousness right now would be the first step to being pitied, which is perhaps the one thing worse than being deceived.
“I’m just not very good with people. I’ve never been,” Sinon says, and wishes whatever sensory suppressors her AmuSphere had built in did a better job at making her not want to hurl. “People are…”
Monsters. You can’t trust them, is what comes to mind, but she holds her tongue. She knows it’s not true, even as her thoughts bombard her, and the feeling of the syringe against her neck sizzles in her memory.
“... Complicated. I’ve been burned before, and... I’m tired. How will I know if it’s going to be any different with them?”
Leafa hums at the question.
“I suppose you won’t. But don’t you want to try, still?”
I’m trying my best, Sinon wants to reply, but even she herself has a hard time believing that when she’s here, leaving them to sulk in one of their houses, as, yet again, the kindness of one of them feels like staring at the sun.
She puts her hands on her face and drags her palms down in a way that would be comical if they weren’t in a virtual world, their avatars’ models a bit too perfect for skin distortion. She thought admitting when someone else was right was something she only hated doing when it was Kirito, but it seems both Kirigaya siblings, unfortunately, have a gift for being infuriatingly right.
“You sound like your brother.”
“... That’s good, right? You two seem to get along pretty well.”
Sinon raises a brow at the statement.
“What? You do, in your own weird way!”
Sinon wheezes, gracing Leafa with the hint of a smile. “Sure we do.”
“I really think you should come, you know. To karaoke,” she adds as she scoots closer to her on the couch. “I’m pretty sure we can still get there in time for a few songs if we leave now.”
Again, Sinon is left to think.
Being around them, despite what she desires, is a crucible of emotion. Their kind words, despite sincerity, turn to ash in her ears, a result of a lifetime of experience with mistreatment and lies that formed a dam against human warmth. For all she knows, they could be the same as Kyouji- snakes waiting to shed their skin, gleefully taking her for a fool. If not that, then they simply pitied her.
She doesn’t know which one is worse anymore.
She looks at Leafa, however, who came all the way to this world just for her.
To say that she fully understands would be a lie. Sinon doesn’t understand why these people show so much kindness, so much affection, so much anything to her. But looking at Leafa- Sugu, now, in this moment, she can’t bring herself to believe that her words come from deceit nor pity.
They became important to me, because I let them.
She might as well give it her best try.
The hall with the karaoke rooms is a sterile white. Shino and Suguha’s footsteps are drowned out by the sound of muffled songs that escape the soundproof rooms as they look for the one with the number matching Lis’ message. Each mute step feels like a herculean feat to Shino as her heart drums in her ears before they even see their friends, and she’s afraid her knees might give.
Suguha takes her hand.
“It’s okay. We’re almost there.”
Shino takes a deep breath and follows Suguha as she opens the door.
In stark contrast to the clear white of the corridors, the karaoke room’s walls are a dark brown with red and white accents, illuminated by the fluorescent ceiling lights. The visage of a white-haired idol girl in an energetic pose is plastered across the wall facing the TV screen.
Sitting on the dark sofas that hugged the room’s walls, they all greet the girls as they walk through the door.
“Sinonon!” Asuna perks up as the door opens.
“Ah, Shino is here! Sugu, too!”
“Ah, you two made it!”
Keiko, Agil, and Klein wave at the girls, while Rika shoots them a peace sign. Shino feels her anxiety dim.
Asuna scoots to the side to make space for them, and then pats the seat. Suguha sits next to Asuna, and Sinon sits next to Suguha.
“I thought you guys wouldn’t make it tonight,” Kirito says, peeking out from behind Asuna. His eyebrows perk mischievously as he adds: “Thankfully, you got here just in time for Agil and Klein’s duet.”
“Great,” Shino deadpans, sarcastically.
“Great,” Suguha echoes.
“It is great!” Klein adds. “Agil, put on our song!”
Despite their exasperation, the gaggle of teens can’t help but find the way Agil obliviously fusses with the karaoke machine endearing.
That is, until the sound of his and Klein’s discordant voices blasts them.
“♪ BREAK, BEAT, BARK! THE FUTURE IS STILL OUT OF SIGHT! IT’S NOT ALL THAT SIMPLE - CAN’T SEE! ♪”
Shino turns to Suguha.
“... Is it too late for us to leave?”
“Do you want to?”
Shino looks around the room.
Rika cups Keiko's ears to protect her from the besmirching of her favorite idol's work, and directs Shino a conspiratorial look. They'd later tease the two grown men for their performance for sure. Asuna looks at Shino, and Shino notices she is still worried about her well-being, with her supposedly being sick. Despite the sonic attack directed at her right now, Shino's fondness for Agil and Klein brings a smile to her face.
And of course, Suguha’s hand still envelops hers, warm and soft to the touch.
Shino allows herself to nuzzle closer to Suguha’s side.
“You know what? I think I’m good here.”