Was it wrong, that he felt so much more alive here than in real life?
It had to be wrong. There was no way it was normal to prefer artificial sunlight, grass too green to be real, skies blindingly blue, flowers beautifully bright – what was he doing?
No, no, no! Take a deep breath. My name is Kazuto, he told himself firmly. Kazuto Kirigaya, not Kirito—
"Kirito-kun!"
Asuna was here now, her sweet smile and beautiful brown eyes obscuring the majority of his vision, and Kiri—Kazuto found it harder and harder to remember his old world, when this new, beautiful, daunting, challenging world loomed before him.
Kazuto Kirigaya had always loved a challenge.
Kirito was just a bit more wary of them.
But both Kirito and Kazuto were rational, and both knew that if he didn't accept Kirito as his reality for the moment, he'd never be able to live as Kazuto again.
Was it wrong, to skirt around the rules?
Rosalia had never been much for following rules; in school, in games, in life. She'd been a rebel, back before she dropped out of school. She'd messed around, partied hard, flirted with bigshot guys in hopes of earning more money and a better life.
Everything was about the money, after all. In the real world, money was power.
SAO was different. Right off the bat, she'd been tested by this new world. Here, strength was an asset. You had to kill and manipulate to survive, and if you couldn't do either, you were done for.
There were two types of players, she discovered. The first were those with kind hearts and weak minds, blindly following the 'rules' of this new reality.
The second type were people who always found a loophole, a breach in the rules to worm through and spread poison for their own gain. Those who could manipulate, and convince others to do their bidding through whatever means necessary. People like Rosalia.
Fear was a surprisingly effective tool, she soon found. So was respect.
She'd built walls around herself, walls of other red players and murderers; pawns, she reflected impassively. They would die soon. Their use was limited, after all.
Rosalia would survive, though.
She wasn't afraid to kill, but she sure as hell was afraid to die.
Was it wrong, that with Kirito at her side, she could almost feel invincible?
She'd never been particularly strong; she'd simply been the perfect, obedient daughter born into a rich family; what more could you ask for? But she'd hated it there.
Money didn't equal love. Asuna had learned that lesson well over the years.
But then he'd come along, an awkward, adorable adolescent at the time; innocent but ruthless, kind but cold and calculating. Every time she thought she'd had him figured out, he surprised her again. And suddenly, without her even realizing it, he'd become her savior, her knight in shining armor.
It was simultaneously reassuring and heartwrenching, and Asuna hated him for it.
She'd become stronger, that much she knew. But he'd always been there just in the nick of time, to save her from whatever horrors befell her next. She'd been indignant, furious even. Who on earth did he think he was? There were many colorful words she could think of to describe him then. She wasn't some petty damsel in distress!
But then she'd gotten to know him, and suddenly he wasn't some hoity-toity little (there was much profanity she'd have inserted there); he was a teenage boy, flawed, with sorrows and regrets built upon themselves to sculpt the strong person she now knew.
And then she'd given away the one thing she'd sworn never to give; she'd fallen in love with him.
Kirito was so wonderfully kind and loyal, intelligent and fierce (and his good looks didn't hurt, either). It almost felt surreal to her; he was perfect, in her eyes, and if there was one thing Asuna had learned over the years, it was that perfection was a mere mirage, and that good things never lasted.
Asuna wouldn't accept that this dream boy, this miraculously perfect hero, would slip from her grasp. She couldn't.
Was it wrong, to love someone and live forever in their safe embrace?
Was it wrong to believe, to hope for the impossible?
Every day, after kendo, her mother drove her to the hospital. White walls were now ingrained in her memory, a part of her everyday routine. She'd tread numbly, somehow afraid that the smallest tremor would damage his frail body beyond repair. Three doors down the hall, to the right. She'd walk into the room, and then she'd see him.
His skin was ash gray, pale and lifeless. He'd always had long, pretty dark eyelashes and a rather androgynous face, but now his hair had grown out, framing his face in unruly tangles and sweat-soaked bangs, and Kazuto looked more like a girl than ever.
It wasn't until a year had passed, when these visits had become routine and the hospital practically a second home, that she realized she'd forgotten what Kazuto's voice sounded like.
Somewhere along the way, her parents had lost hope. Their smiles were strained, and no longer reached their eyes. In the night, they thought she couldn't hear, but she was more perceptive than they presumed.
But somehow, against all logic, some part of her believed Kazuto would come back; that he'd wake up tomorrow, in a week, or maybe even sit up right away and grin teasingly at her, because Kazuto wouldn't die so easily. She knew that about him, at least.
Was it wrong, to keep hold of this childish, whimsical hope that he'd survive?
"Onii-san, I'm off to kendo. Wanna hang out when I come back?"
"Sure, Sugu. In a little while."
"Oh. Okay, then. Let me know when you're done with SAO."
"...bye, Sugu. See you."
A/N: And that's a wrap! Not my best work, I know, but certainly not my worst. It was written on a whim (so are most of my stories, but that's beside the point). Oh, and I've resumed writing Shadowed Sparks (rewrite), so check that out too.
Rosalia's supposed to be in the character section, but she's not on Fanfiction's character list for SAO, so I couldn't add her. I emailed Support to add her to the character list, but they haven't replied.
How did you like this story? Reviews brighten my day; all feedback is welcome!