The Rain in Our Souls

Chapter 4

Disclaimer:

Any elements pertaining to «Sword Art Online» belong to Kawahara Reki.

All original content belongs to me.

6:00AM, the next morning.

The dull buzzing of my alarm clock shoved me out of my sleep, and I tapped a notification button to the side of my heads-up display to silence it. The previous night, Argo had paid me a visit and we discussed the events that had transpired earlier that day: the researcher NPC and his death, the exchange with the gatekeeper, and the «Locket of Radius».

"Absolutely none of this makes sensE," Argo said, shaking her head. "There should be absolutely no way an orange player could be allowed into the AreA. Even the «Karma Recovery Quest» for the Rank 4 oranges doesn't require that player to enter towns, as all of their contacts are posted in the fielD..."

"What bothers me most is that researcher NPC," I said, crossing my arms and propping my legs on the table. "With that face he was making... it seemed very convincing that he was not going to respawn. Then, there's that cryptic message that was hidden under his papers."

"That suspicion could be easily dealt witH," Argo assured. "I will have myself or another broker watch the post where that NPC was located, and see if he respawnS. Once I get an affirmative or negative on the NPC's respawn, I'll send you a PM." Her eyes drifted to the table, where lay the «Locket of Radius». "It must have something to do with that iteM..."

"Hmm?"

"The acceptance back into the AreA," said the information broker. "ApparentlY..." she rose from the bed and extended a hand toward the object, but was reprimanded by a purple system barrier and a motor response that mimicked as if that barrier were a bee's stinger."...there's a binding effect that doesn't let other players touch iT. That being said, we probably can't appraise it unless you level up that skill yourselF."

Argo finally asked one question that I hesitated to answering. No matter how much I wanted to shrug off such an armor-piercing question, I couldn't bring myself to joke around with Cor.

"I am going to keep this a secret, unless you let me spread iT. But please tell me, and tell me the trutH... are you in any league with Laughing CoffiN...?"

After that conversation, and after falling asleep until now—the time when I would be near the frontlines for my appointed experience grinding. Laughing Coffin designated various locations at various times when player population would be at its lowest, and we could easily group and kill any bystander if they happened to stumble upon us. I fell back upon the bed and lay there for five minutes before finally deciding to rise.

Perhaps I should leave Achr, and find a main city on the lower floors to lay low. My quest data had updated, but it turns out that the quest didn't have the linear route a normal quest would. The description only read: «Wait for further orders from the investigators». The «wait» command wasn't something I could persevere through; especially if that was what I had to do in order to reach my intended goals.

I donned the blue cloak with gray trim once again. The sky was still dark; the sun wouldn't be peeking through Aincrad for another hour minutes. That was more than enough time to enter the Teleport Gate in the plaza, transfer to a lower floor, and hide out in a dungeon or lodging outside of the Area. Maybe near «Urbus» on the 2nd Floor? Or even «Lobria», on the 4th Floor...

As I exited the inn, called the «Plymouth», my ears picked up a soft crunching sound. I warily turned around, and set my hand above my Throwing Picks. No, none of my defenses would help me here; the purple barriers of the Area would intercept any damage or status-inflicting means I could deal to the other green players. The only thing I could do is try to flee the scene, and use a Teleport Crystal when I was out of their default hearing range. I cursed myself for not taking any «Flashbang Crystals» from my previous ploy.

The worst case scenario was that I ran into a battalion belonging to the «Big Three» guilds—the «Army»; known formally as the «Aincrad Liberation Force»; the «Knights of the Blood», and the «Divine Dragon Alliance». Of course, an encounter with the latter two was highly probable, as their headquarters were the next two floors up. I wagered that guild was notified of my presence within an Area last afternoon, while their scouts investigated me during the evening, and listened in on my and Argo's conversation. If that were the case, then I wouldn't have to explain myself as much...?

I stepped slowly along the dirt path, paving my way toward the plaza where the Teleport Gate stood. Aside from hearing the crunching of gravel a while ago, I couldn't feel the presence of any player. My «Searching» Skill picked no entities, except for the few NPC guards that roamed the city. I took a deep breath and made my way toward the Teleport Gate. Acting natural at this point, even with such variables in place—mostly the presence of a Big Three guild—was nigh impossible.

My legs immediately froze, and my right hand hovered over the Throwing Picks at my thigh as a sharp object pressed its tip against the back of my cloak.

The Area protected them.

I was forced to accept their terms, or finally have my name crossed out on that black stone tablet that silently monitored the players within this cursed game.

"I want you to take that hood off your head," a voice said. My mind's eye painted the face of a teenage or young-adult male with short hair and a heart-shaped face. I hadn't even three seconds to move, and I felt the blade leave my back and then something graze against my body. The stinging sensation directed my eyes to my HP bar, which had lowered about two percent. I couldn't help but let out a sharp breath

"Did you hear what I said, dear murderer?"

"You must have a high level in «Hiding» be able to sneak up on someone with a «Searching» Skill at max level."

I slowly lowered the hood off my head, and my eyes darted forward at the sound of shuffling dirt. Two players' avatars manifested from within the darkness, pulling off a mantle from their shoulders. «Cloaks of Invisibility». That item was a rare drop from within the 22nd Floor Labyrinth, and a few sub-dungeons in the few floors above the 22nd. These two players, a tall male with short, slicked-back hair and a shorter blue-haired female, approached me with their arms at their side. Their armors' color scheme was unmistakably one of the Big Three, but I checked their Color Cursors—their HP bars—just to be sure.

"So... what does the «Divine Dragon Alliance» want to do with a nobody player like me?" I asked.

The female gave me a smile with closed eyes, but asking such a question in that suspicious tone caused my assailant to jab at my ankle, dropping my health for an additional one percent. I winced at the player behind me, and caused the other two DDA members to speak up.

"Chevie, put your sword back where it belongs," the fragile voice of the girl said. There was a short pause, which resulted in «Chevie» scoffing and the sound of the blade's retreat back into its sheath. This reluctant action made me realize that the girl was the group's superior, and I took a moment to take note of her.

Her blue bangs reached down around her face to her neck, though her hair extended farther down the back. She wore a sleeveless, blue-over-white combat dress that was secured by a golden belt at the waist, where it then flared out around her legs to the knee. Her arms were covered with black, elbow-length gloves. A two-handed assault spear was affixed to her back. If I would make a guess at her age, I would say at least 18, and at most 23. My own was right in the middle of the numbers.

"Players notified us of the presence of an orange player within an Area," she said. "Never in the past has an orange player entered the Area, but you appear to be a special case. Something about a Locket of Radius, which allows the bearer to enter an Area, despite having an orange cursor? Also, a tidbit that is more interesting..."

"Let's skip the pleasantries and dispose of the «red»," my assailant called from behind. "Maybe if you listened to Lind this time, he'll likely consider you for promotion, considering this guy is in league with Laughing Coffin—we'd be heroes if that were the case." My head turned and I obtained a glance of his complexion from beneath the hood he wore—that underlying smile of his was an emotion I recognized all too well. In this case, I wasn't the only one.

"Ulrich-san, please return Chevie-kun back to headquarters before he gets out of hand... again." The male with slicked-back hair stepped forward and seized his fellow guild member, with his warhammer in hand. Chevie's hood fell from its owner's face, revealing a blonde, bowl-cut male—he threw me a venomous glance as he passed me by. I broke eye-contact, and stared indignantly at the DDA sub-leader before me with my mouth half-open.

"Shall I report to the guild leader?" Ulrich asked in a deep, bold voice, whilst keeping a firm hand on Chevie's upper left arm.

"I shall report to Lind-san myself. Thank you for your concerns."

"You can't do this, Selphie-sama," Chevie retaliated. "He's a red, and you know what the guild leader-sama said about red players!" In that instant, Ulrich locked eyes with me as he turned the screaming individual away. Then, the sportsman's eyes glared deep into my own, as if threatening at my existence if his sub-leader were to be declared missing. Then, with the conceited Chevie in a headlock, Ulrich muttered "Let's go, you two-tonne hassle", and chanted the Teleport incantation to disappear in a tunnel of light toward the 56th Floor.

My temples twitched as the sub-leader, Selphie, then turned around and smiled apologetically. "It's players like him that degrade our supposed 'professional outlook'. If the members like him offered to show even a shred of modesty, the DDA wouldn't be called «The Orange Clearers»." The tender smile remained as she opened her blue eyes. "Please allow me to treat you to something—possibly a meal—on behalf of Chevie-kun's bad behavior." She bowed the saikeirei—the forty-five degree bow—and caused me to wonder what DDA's "modesty spectrum" was, or whether this girl's modesty was of the highest within her guild.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked abruptly. I must have been too strong with my voice, since she flinched and before hesitantly turning to face me. I tried my approach again, softening my voice, "Didn't the other member say something about your guild leader to deal with me, as in PK me? Or even at least send me to the «Black Iron Prison»?"

"Many players are going to circulate around. Even if you decline my offer of breakfast, at least follow me to the inn, or café, where we may converse in subtlety. Please understand."

Hesitation gripped my decisions in a choke-hold. I, deemed by the system as a convict, would likely be heckled at from all angles, perhaps even dived upon, if found in a public place. Of course, that would be if I were alone...

"If only you could hold back the droves of players off my back, I'll be more than willing to tell you what I can," I said half-heartedly. Selphie seemed quite pleased with herself, as she twirled around and began toward the inn where I had just lodged. The various buildings loomed overhead, and I expected players to come out anytime soon; it was nearing that time when players would venture out to hunt; either for monsters or for materials.

Selphie came to the two-story building that situated behind two marble-colored rocks. She opened one of the mahogany double doors open, and gestured me inside first. My courteousness kicked in and I reached for the door, holding it open. "Please, you first, sub-leader," I said. Selphie gave me a rejected look and she disappeared into the inn. I shook my head at myself as I trailed behind her, my thoughts repeating "I totally screwed up there".

A few groups of players had already assembled in the Plymouth's dining area, and their conversations dropped to whispers as Selphie approached the bartender while I moved toward a table near the back. With a HUD shortcut, I disabled the «Straining» skill, and the statements mentioning "DDA" and "orange players" disappeared. Even though the Color Cursor system was disabled while indoors, perhaps enough players had witnessed my grand entrance into Serras, and remembered me then. At least, newcomers would hypothesize that I was an unruly DDA member being chastised by his superior.

Selphie approached the table with a translucent window in front of her. After seating herself down, she changed the visibility setting to «public», and turned the window so I could see the contents. "Pick something from the menu. Consider this as my apology—Chevie is a real troublemaker."

"While I appreciate the offer, couldn't we have settled with us going our separate ways?" I asked.

"An orange player like you has nothing to do within an Area," Selphie said from behind the translucent window, her head resting on her intertwined fingers. "If it's about keeping a low profile, nobody will realize that you've gone."

That smug tone of hers implied something contrary.

I hesitantly broke eye contact to the menu, and settled with a chowder and finally submitting the menu. "Revenge... was much too sweet for my liking." I turned my gaze away. "A sweet tooth, I am not."

"You've been missing out on quite a few tastes if you've been only feasting on sweets for the past eight months," Selphie said. I became quite surprised when she followed up with food talk, and my eyes turned back at the smile that graced her face. "The DDA, ALF, and KoB are looking for a player, anyone, who could provide anything about LC." Pause. "Those Reds may have slowed down on their hunting activities, but some players are unwilling to leave the safety of the Area. They need to be assured that Laughing Coffin is not just disbanded but destroyed in order to willingly go out into the fields again. If that doesn't happen, this current Clearing Group doesn't have a next generation Clearing Group to continue in our stead."

After such an expansive reply, the NPC waiter had arrived with our respective orders. The bowl of creamy chowder was set in front of me, accompanied with a wooden soupspoon. Selphie had helped herself to a platter of noodles, while a bowl of broth was set in front of her left hand. Finally, after setting a few dinner rolls in the middle of us, the waiter courteously bowed and left. Of those four dinner rolls, I dipped two of those rolls into the chowder before devouring them.

Nearly three months have passed since my orange cursor, and during those three months, I was forced to eat the one-Cor black bread for every meal. Remembering those grueling times where I craved a taste other than the bland wheat, I savored the taste signals this system was sending to my brain.

That was all the platter of food was composed of—signals. The creamy texture of the chowder, the puffiness of the dinner rolls—both were only an illusion of sustenance while our real bodies were sustained through IV drips within various hospitals across Japan.

"Can I ask why you decided to defect from Laughing Coffin?"

I lowered the spoon, and I stared at the puddle of chowder that remained in the bowl before me. After an exhalation through my nose, I replied, "It became like a game that didn't seem fun anymore... that's what I would have said." I noticed Selphie was about to open that indignant mouth again, but fell silent as I uttered that ending statement. My attention returned to the food, and only then did I realize that I had ordered too small a portion.

I tapped the table two times and invoked the menu.

"To tell the truth, I'm quite uncomfortable replying this in such a public location. Still, this orange cursor of mine may provide some context to any newer eavesdroppers... but I wish to reserve information regarding the «LC» to a time and place which is more secure.

"This first meeting can be anything about me."

Basic internet etiquette involved the exclusion of personal life details. Especially in SAO, where a player could fail to recognize this game as their «current reality» because of that real-reality they had left behind...

From the menu, I settled on a serving of milk tea, which arrived as soon as the menu dissipated with my order. I brought the beverage to my mouth, scalding my tongue...

Selphie merely sighed. "Of everything I could ask, I already have." She rubbed the side of her neck with her palm. "Tonight, I'll send you a «PM» and we'll talk in private. In the meantime, report back to Laughing Coffin."

I sipped the milk tea again as Selphie rested her chin upon the back of her hands, watching me intently with her piercing blue orbs.

"What?" I demanded, setting down my cup in its saucer. That gaze of her disturbed me to no end.

"It's a nice change of pace, that's all," Selphie said, turning her gaze away with a crown. "You don't reply with the sama tag that the DDA is so obsessed about. It relieves me quite a bit, you know."

I downed the last of the milk tea and set aside the tableware. "I too would be overwhelmed if I had some fifty people at my heels and calling me sama. Maybe that's why that Red guild seemed so promising..." I rose from the table, and strode toward the entrance.

As I passed Selphie, however, a felt a force tug me back toward the table. She was holding me by the waist strap of my long coat. "I do require your contact info... so I can tell you that time and place without first having to track you down."

If I recall correctly, this kind of exchange would be the precursor to a possible romance in contemporary anime or drama—boy meets girl, and the latter demands something of the former... they get together more and more until they become close friends or even more.

And from that deduction, I would have just pulled free keep from her grasp, and disappear into the world... except doing that would never cleanse the mark atop my head. So, after a couple of seconds I settled on the epiphany that I would break all ties with her once I received my Green cursor once more.

With my mind screaming no, no, no, I materialized my menu and accessed the «Communications» tab. There were five options total, but the first was the option I was looking for. At the very bottom of this sub-menu, there was a button that would only collect dust, and will never touched until the end of this death game, and even then, it will never be selected.

After selecting the «Befriend» option, a list of names manifested into being, beginning with Selphie's because she was the player closest to me in the «Communications» distance limit of twenty-five meters. I clicked that name, and my window shifted to my Friends List, and «Selphie» was listed as its fourth name. My heart sank as I beheld the two names that took the second and third positions.

"My name," I said, waving the window away as I began toward the entrance once more, "is «Kai». Pleased to make your acquaintance."

I didn't wait for her reply. My voice had never felt so heavy before.

A/N: 1/25/15

Just going to throw it out there, I wrote out the first half of this chapter in the span of a month and a half (beginning at the posting of Chapter 3 back in late November), and the latter half was written in the remaining time until now (in the span of a week to a week-and-a-half). I haven't been very motivated to write, until I saw that someone had acquired interest in my story (shoutout, Tayuke), and decided that I should finish this chapter... at the very least.

I have posted my reasons on my profile page. While I don't have a lot of self-motivation to write, I don't plan on completely abandoning this project... yet.

I hope for your feedback and your blessings. Thank you for reading The Rain in our Souls.

—1caiser