Author Notes: Here's another one shot from me. It took me two days to write this where normally I would have taken longer because I'm a terribly slow writer. It really amazes me how people can crank out like a 1000 words in just an hour. Anyway, this is basically a grittier portrayal of the Beater conflict which I feel wasn't expanded at all in the original works. This fic is slightly AU and I'm just experimenting with writing isolated characters here. Other than that, hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sword Art Online, I just own a box of pizza.

When you walk alone, hunt alone, sleep alone, cry alone, you think you'd get used to being alone. Apparently not. Kirito would know. Who else can say otherwise? No one.

These days, he's been thinking a lot, thinking of a lot of things. Because that's what you do when you have no one else to talk to; you bloody talk to yourself, in your mind or out loud; it doesn't matter as long as it keeps the silence from killing your mind. That's what Kirito has to look forward to each day, a good conversation with himself. Though unfortunately, when your life is already so shit, most of the time you'll find nothing good to say.

This was the life of a Beater, a damn awful life. Trudging on, and on, and on, no one to share your pain, hoping one day you would reach the end of the game in a single piece still. Beater, an awfully stupid title. Of all the things you would call a person you hate—bitch, cunt, fag—Beater was perhaps the stupidest thing you could say. Nevertheless, it was a title he was stuck with.

It had sounded like a noble idea then, insulting every player in Ilfang's room, then bearing all the hatred towards beta-testers. A damn fool he was. Now everyone was after him. It was easy to shoulder it for a while but, as the weeks rolled by and then the months, it wears down on you, dragging you, until you're nothing more than a little player feeling sad for his life. That's him alright, a sad little player who the world gave a big 'fuck you' to. And maybe he's going mad too? They say the first sign of madness is talking to your own head. He's done that a lot.

So just maybe…

Kirito yawned, stretched, then pulled himself out of his small yellow tent. He had been lying in there thinking for too long. It was already past five, the 29th Floor's sun would soon peak at the horizon, spilling rays through the canopy of trees, best to have breakfast cooking by then. He scrambled down to the lake beside his campsite, drawing up the fishing nets he had laid last night; just a couple of trouts caught. The fire pit was burning after several minutes, and he speared each trout with a short tree branch before roasting them over the fire.

Whilst he waited for the fishes to cook, he went to lake again to refill his water skin. He splashed his face with water, its cool texture running smoothly against his dirt-sodded skin. Perhaps he should take a swim? It has been a week since he last took a bath or even changed clothing as a matter of fact. He decided against it in the end, for no reason in particular.

After breakfast, Kirito broke camp, packing his tent, cooking utensils, etc. He donned his worn brigandine, fastened his dented vambraces, and pull on his battered helmet. The durability for his armour set was running low, he will have to visit a blacksmith soon; though, the problem was getting to one. He checked his longsword which hung by the left of his belt, sliding the blade out of its scabbard. Still good. He slid it back in, then made sure he still had all his daggers; one strapped to his belt, another horizontally across the small of his back, and two more in each of his boots. You always need more than one knife.

He pulled down his menu and saw his inbox blinking. It was from Argo.

'The bounty for your head is now at 40k Cols. Just thought you ought to know.'

He replied, 'Thanks. How much for that information? Add it to my credit, will you?'

Her reply came sooner than expected. 'It's free. But for the record, your credit is at 3k Cols. You better pay up the next time we meet.'

Kirito smiled. He remembered it clearly his credit being at least five thousand Cols and it was not something Argo would have miss out unless it was intentional. The Rat can be a nice person when she wants to.

'Will do. See you.' And with that he closed his menu.

A long sigh escaped his mouth. Forty thousand Cols on his head, that'll bring half of SAO's bounty hunters on him. It had all start two months ago. A tribunal seating was set up in the Town of Beginning to govern over the players because the Cardinal System, for all its strengths, was unable to prevent players abusing certain aspects of the game system. And, of course, being the infamous Beater, his case was one of the first to be called. He ignored the summons and was branded to be forcefully brought before the tribune. Then came a rumour that he had killed a small guild of five. What little support he initially had dwindled even more considerably, and wild stories started coming up; one in particular called him an agent of Kayaba, trying to ensure everyone dies in this game. Exaggeration has no bounds. No really, it doesn't. What started out as insulting just forty players in a boss room somehow turned into thousands now crying for his blood. While he was still technically a green cursored, it was dangerously to assume anyone would believe his story from the get go. Green PK wasn't as uncommon as one would think. He had heard all this from Argo, one of the few who still believed him.

So for now, he was on the run, to nowhere in particular, just keeping on the move, unable to participate any raids or boss battles till his name is cleared. When will that happen, he doesn't know, for he was certain no one was doing anything about it. Perhaps, if the dead could speak, Ducker, Sasamaru, Tetsuo, Keita, Sachi might be able to testify for him. No, it was foolish to think that. Let the dead sleep.

Kirito tied his rug sack tightly and slung it over his shoulder onto his back. He stalked through the forest, keeping the lake to his left and following the water current as it exited through a little stream. The sunlight filtered against the leaves of the great trees, casting a dull yellow shade on the forest's floor, and the forest ambience hummed with singing insects. The air was slightly damp, full of the trees' morning exhale of oxygen, to which Kirito took comfort in. It was something he could get used to, but he knew it wouldn't last. He always needed to be on the move.

There were no mobs in the forest, the 29th Floor being one of the milder Floors, especially after the bloodbath that the 28th Floor was. The frontline was currently on the 35th Floor, a whole six floors above him, but, despite so, his level was merely a couple lower than the average clearer for he didn't neglect the necessary grinding. Being a solo player, he was inefficient, but he made up for that in volume.

Though why was he doing this, the reason seems to escape him since he could not participate in any raids. It was just survival instincts, he guessed; the strong fights to live on, while the weak hides and dies. He sighed again.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flutter of white. In forest of green and yellow foliage, white was an unusual colour to see. He suddenly froze.

It was a little girl, dark haired, probably seven or eight years old, standing across the stream, big round eyes staring straight at him. She had a blank expression, arms lackadaisically swinging by her sides as if she didn't have the strength to control them. The white was her dress, pure white, without the dirt or dust you would expect to accumulate out in the wilderness. In fact, there was not a single clump of dirt on her body, even her feet, which was barefoot, glowed unnaturally clean.

Kirito didn't move, staring back at her instead. "What the hell?" he mumbled. Perhaps he should have run. Her stare was unsettling. Strange things had happened to him before but this definitely took the cake. A little girl in white, alone in the forest, looking at him. Ghost, was the first thing that came to mind,but he kept his composure; few things in this world could surprise him nowadays.

His hand inched close to the hilt of his sword. "Hey," he called out.

No response. She kept staring at him with those big round eyes opened so very wide.

"Hey," he tried again.

No response. Goosebumps started to run over him.

"What are you doing here?"

No response. Not even a blink.

"Who are you?"

No response.

"Say something godammit!" He half-drew his blade.

At the sight of hostility, the girl began walking away. "Wait!" Kirito called out, stepping forward, and she spared him another glance—her eyes not as wide as previously—before disappearing behind a tree.

"Hey! Stop!"

Curiosity got the better of him and he dropped his rug sack and crossed the small stream, drenching his tearing boots. The situation was too strange. Nothing made sense. Why would she stare at him, not saying a word, then walk away? If it was a player, it could have been a trap to lure him, but the chances were unlikely. Maybe it was the game playing a trick on him. Or is he really going mad?

He got to where he saw the girl disappeared. He looked.

There was nothing. No one.

A ghost then. Not a real one, maybe just a mob. Though no player has encountered one before, it was possible these types of mobs exist, probably just as a psychological aspect added to the game. Just to fuck with your mind, you know.

Kirito burst out laughing. "Well, fuck you Kayaba!" he shouted out loud, as if his life wasn't any shit enough already. "Fuck your stupid mind games!" He didn't care if anyone heard him. Because no one was there. No one. He was alone. That's right…

…alone.

He sheathed his sword, returned to his rug sack, picked it and continued his way. To nowhere in particular.

In blank empty room, «Yui-MPCP001» sat watching, out of the many floating digital screens in front of her, the player trudging through the forest, shaking his head as if he was in heavy denial of something. She pulled up another screen and typed:

Just another case of lonely days' madness.

Author Notes: To be honest, I believe this oneshot could easily be expanded into a multi-chapter story. This fic could be a prologue and the story could be Kirito trying to clear his name. But for now I'm just leaving it as a oneshot. I've got my main fic to work on; I've been neglecting it for a while because I sort of lost motivation for it after I had a problem with my laptop. Anyway, so tell me what you think of this fic; tell me if it's good or bad. Personally, I think there were some places where the flow is a bit jarring. Moreover, I feel this is the most negative thing I have ever written which is a contrast to me as I usually like to be more positive about things.

Well, that's the end of this one shot, feel free to favorite, review or PM if you want. See ya.