angels in flight

Her hands are shaking when she steals the system disk.

It's surprisingly easy to log into the system, to put in her information and open her eyes to the virtual world. There's blue rings of crackling code surrounding her, robotic voices instructing her on how to proceed. She types her name into the identity sheet with trembling fingers.

So easily achieved, for something forbidden. It feels wrong for it to be this easy. She doesn't even need a room for it, doesn't need to hide herself away. Their whole apartment is practically a system access—all she has to do is lie down and say the words. Somehow, this makes it worse.

Her brother does not want her here. The wound her sister left on him—on both of them—is too raw. He complains about the system, the dangers and the downsides, moreso when he knows she is listening. Aoi is an amazing duelist, and amazing duelists almost always end up in LINK VRAINS, one way or another.

Akira would do anything to keep her away from her sister's graveyard.

Aoi cares little for LINK VRAINS, but her brother does not want her there. He has not yet outright forbidden it, but it's implied. Every action, every word—he would rather Aoi have nothing to do with LINK VRAINS and the dangers involved. And so, she must go.

Her brother is hardly ever home. Hardly ever looks at her. Maybe they are not related by blood, but he is all she has left of the world, and still—he is never there. Too busy at work, at his job, at managing the LINK VRAINS and the troubles players and hackers cause to the system.

It's not his fault. She knows that, of course she does. She understands how important his job is. But knowing doesn't ease the ache of loneliness, or the bitter taste of disappointment on her tongue as he pushes her away, again and again. He wants only to protect her, to protect them both, but Aoi wishes he didn't have to ignore her own strength in the process.

Aoi loved her sister, loves her still. But she cannot deny the tiny seed of resentment that has started to grow, for her sister had died a hero—but she had still died, and left Akira and Aoi alone, and her end has chained Aoi ever since. In dying, her sister has limited her. Her legacy is a shadow Aoi can never escape. A shadow that remains even now, five years later. A shadow that Akira sees, and acts upon.

Aoi will do anything to escape that shadow. And so—LINK VRAINS. Aoi's secret key to her brother's golden cage.

Her brother monitors every account, at least briefly, but her name will catch his interest when she shows up on the register. Finally, finally—she will have his attention. His regard. Perhaps he will finally see her—her strength, her resolve. Maybe he will see Aoi beyond her sister's shadow.

She will gain his disapproval, too, but Aoi is ready for that. Almost open to it. Even disappoint can be weathered, so long as her brother still remembers she exists. Sees Aoi, even if only for a brief moment.

But still: she signs her name with shaking hands. Her brother will be so angry.

She's frightened. But she's thrilled, too. Once she finishes, he can't stop her. She can access her account in any system box, with anyone's controller—she won't have to depend on their system after this. He can't shut her down, can't shove her away—can't keep her hidden. This is Aoi's shining light, this is Aoi's revolution. Look at me, she wants to say. Look at me. Here I am.

These thoughts resound in her head as she designs her avatar. Childish hair, a frilly skirt, silly marks on her face. Young and cute and picturesque —cheery and bright. The way Aoi isn't, the way she wants to be.

She paints on her new colors with careful strokes. Blue hair, blue eyes, blue clothes—blue like her new brother's hair, like her sister's eyes. Blue like her mother's soft curls, like the pressed shirt her father always wore to work, back when her parents were still alive.

Blue, like the sea and sky. Uncontrollable and uncontainable tempered grace.

In class, they are learning about symbolism, and the meaning each carries. This is Aoi's symbol, her self laid bare, her colors bright and gleaming. They'll see her. They'll all see her, and best of all, no one will ever suspect shy and quiet Aoi Zaizen to be the beautiful Blue Angel, no one except her brother, and he's the only one who needs to know.

The virtual world settles around her, and Aoi opens to her eyes to false sunlight and shining skies as blue as her new avatar. She flexes a white-gloved hand and smooths down the skirt of her dress. A single blue pigtail brushes her cheeks, and she brushes it away, almost impatient. It is something to get used to.

The people milling round her barely give her a second glance, but Aoi doesn't take it personally. They don't know her yet. They don't see her yet, for the only people they are interested in noticing are the winners.

That's fine. Better than fine, even perfect. Aoi's avatar is cute, young, childish—all baby blues and angelic features. Her brother and everyone else will look at Aoi and think her an easy target. Angels have been viewed as pretty figurines for too long for them to see her as someone to fear.

But angels were warriors once, and it's time someone reminded them of that.

Aoi is tired of waiting.