Epilogue
Yamagata, Yamagata Prefecture, Japan - May 17, 2025
Yes, you're reading the date right. I'm skipping over some things. There's a lot more to the story of SAO, of course—of how we got out, how we were sabotaged from within, and how those we trusted to take care of our bodies betrayed us, too.
But those are stories of their own. Sachi's story doesn't end here, nor do those of Ezekiel and In Memoriam, but one story does, and I feel it's important to give it closure.
#
I still dream about SAO, now and then.
I once dreamed that Sachi and I were in our house in Londinium. We were in the courtyard, with the sun shining on us from above. A Message Record Crystal played back some slow music, and we danced to it. I know, it's so sweet it's sappy and trite. Well, so what? If you fall in love with someone and don't get a little sappy once in a while, are you really in love at all?
Anyway, Sachi and I danced in the courtyard. She rested her head on my shoulder and smiled. She said something and laughed about it.
But I couldn't hear her. A high-pitched squeal drowned her out.
The floor rumbled; the earth cracked beneath us. The columns holding up the roof sheared and shattered.
The house came down around us—no, all of Aincrad came down around us, and I clung to Sachi. I held her close as the earth gave way and we fell, into the black abyss.
"And how do you feel about that, Kirigaya-kun?"
That voice belonged to Doctor Suzuki. He was a calm, buttoned-down man, with rectangular glasses frames and a thick moustache. Every so often, he would run his fingers over his sweater vest, brushing any lint or flakes of dandruff away. He was very meticulous like that.
Doctor Suzuki worked out of a fancy, well-furnished office. His desk was made of dark, finished wood with narrow carvings down the legs. Suzuki always sat in front of the desk in our sessions, though: he had two black leather chairs—very plush, and very comfortable. He would let me take one first, and then he would take the other. He always let me take whichever I wanted. Left or right, it made no difference. Perhaps it was a subtle technique to help me feel in control.
Two tall, rectangular windows let light into the room. Suzuki's office faced west, so often during our sessions, the sunlight would shine directly into the room, casting it in a warm, comforting hue. Suzuki kept the blinds tilted just right to keep out glare while letting all that color in.
So it was with the sun's warmth on half his face that Suzuki asked me that question, asked me about the dream I'd finished describing to him. After a moment's contemplation, I finally said,
"I think it tells me my subconscious is a bit melodramatic."
"Whose isn't? But that's fine, really. Are you worried about Sachi?"
I shrugged.
"She seems a little down lately. She says it's just homework backlog."
Suzuki scribbled on his pad, not looking up.
"Do you believe that?"
"I worry it's not that, yeah."
"Hmm."
Suzuki tilted his head down, resting his chin on his hand and putting a little more of his face in shadow.
"Well, I have confidence in Doctor Mitsuishi. I worked with her for a few years back in Nagano. She's compassionate and knowledgeable, so Sachi is in good hands."
"Yeah, that's true. Maybe I'm making something out of nothing."
"No, no, I'm glad you said something. It's not wrong to worry; it's not wrong to be vigilant. And you asked her feelings, right? That's good. That's always a good first barometer of a person's state of mind, whatever they say."
I sighed, glancing out the window to the setting sun.
"I guess it always just seems like night could be coming anytime now. Or I worry that could happen."
"It's not your job to support her. If you feel overwhelmed, you can—and should—step back."
I smiled to myself.
"We're not there yet, Doc. I've been there before. We're okay for right now, and we'll see how it goes, right?"
Suzuki nodded.
"That's the best any of us can do."
He slid his phone out of his pocket and peered at the screen.
"Well, we only have a few minutes, but there's something else I wanted to touch base with you about. I was reading a report from Kikuoka-san, and he wrote briefly about a raid on some player-killers? A raid you were involved in?"
I shifted in my seat and turned my head, putting the sun behind me and my face in shadow.
"Yeah, that happened. Do we really have time for this right now?"
"Perhaps not. I just wanted to ask about it now, so you could think on whether there's anything we need to talk about before next week."
"I don't know what there is to say."
"Fair enough. I—"'
"Except…"
Suzuki gawked for a moment, but he leaned back, nodding.
"Except that it was a bloodbath, and I don't like to think about it. I'm not sure most people there even know the names of the players they killed. Would be easier just to forget it all, Doc."
"Easier, yes. Better for you?"
"I didn't say that."
Doctor Suzuki pursed his lips.
"Good, that's good. Sorry for bringing that up so suddenly, Kirigaya-kun. We can continue next time. Take care."
The doctor shook my hand, and he opened the door to show me out. In the waiting room, with its fine, dark carpet and mahogany reception desk, there was a row of chairs on the far wall for visitors and other patients.
And out there, in the chair closest to Suzuki's door, sat Sachi. Gone was her worm-tooth shield, or her oval-shaped breastplate. Her clothes were much less fantastical, but she was still Sachi.
"Hey. How'd it go?"
"Not bad. Yours?"
"Okay, I guess…."
"Something up?"
She sighed.
"I guess. I got a message from Liz. Made me think about some things, while you were in there."
"What message was that?"
"She sent it to you, too. Take a look."
I peeked at my phone and scrolled through the emails. A giveaway for a new MMO called Gun Gale Online, a newsletter headlined by the shakeup at RCT, and…
There it was. From Lisbeth:
Hey guys, now that everyone's back from SAO/ALO and healed up, I think it's time we had a little party. I've already talked to Agil-san about renting out his place for an evening. Let's celebrate those who are still with us and commemorate those we lost. If you're interested, let me know, and I'll make sure there's enough food and drink for everyone. Thanks!
I clicked my phone off, and Sachi sighed.
"I'm ashamed to say it, but after all this time—the therapy sessions, learning to walk and eat again, and then Alfheim—I almost forgot about Aurora."
It was easy to forget. We'd been able to give our regards to the rest of Black Cats' families, but Yamagata is just too far to go when you're still in physical therapy. And then, time passed, and we forgot.
But we were healthy again. And if we couldn't make the time, we didn't deserve Aurora's friendship in the first place.
"Let's go make it right, then."
Sachi met my eyes, and she nodded, smiling.
"Yeah! Let's do it, for Aurora."
#
We arranged to meet a contact of ours from the government. He was a busy man, though, and neither of us wanted to hunt him down at his office, so we agreed on a more convenient meeting place:
Yggdrasil City, in Alfheim Online.
It may seem strange, that I would willingly choose to spend more time in a virtual world again, after having been laid up for two years, but to me, it was just as real and meaningful as anything in the "real" world.
See, we picked Yggdrasil City because there was an inn high above the main part of the city, in one of the upper branches of the World Tree. From the balcony, you could look down on the city below. If there had been an ocean out there, with people canoeing or swimming, or if there had been a statue of a Viking hero in the town square, you could've mistaken it for a more realistic town.
Anyway, three of us waited on the inn's balcony: Sachi and I, of course, and Ezekiel. Ezekiel didn't look any less silly as a Salamander—a fire fairy—but the red hair seemed fitting for him.
"Your friend's late."
The three of us sat down and waited over cups of tree sap (better than you'd think, trust me), and we watched my contact on the in-game map, and Ezekiel seemed to be in more of a mood to complain than to wait. He sat back, arms folded, and shook his head.
"We're goddamn fairies with the power of flight. All he has to do is fly a straight line to get here."
Sachi winced.
"He's not the best at this game, from what I've seen. Be patient with him."
"That doesn't inspire me with confidence."
"Let's just say he's a better bureaucrat than a gamer?"
Ezekiel shook his head again, taking another sip of tree sap. He opened his mouth to speak, but we were interrupted.
"Hey guys, Alne West?"
That brusque, sudden offer came from none other than Kali. She, Collmenter, and my sister, Leafa, ambled out to the balcony, and their wings materialized on their backs.
His cup empty, Ezekiel set it aside and waved a hand to decline.
"Wish we could, but we're waiting for someone. Maybe you guys wanna try Peeler?"
Collmenter huffed at that.
"Peeler only wants to run South. It's breastplate or bust for him."
I cleared my throat.
"Tell him I'll run South with him later if he runs you guys through West. That should make everybody happy, right?"
Leafa raised both eyebrows at me.
"Except for you, because you don't need anything out of South, right?"
Well, she had me there. Leafa bounded off with a smile, and Kali and Collmenter followed after her. They jumped off the edge of the balcony and soared over the town in the tree branches, disappearing into the warm hues of the sunset below.
And out of that sunset came an all-too-serious looking fairy with blue hair and glasses with only half the frames.
"Sorry I'm late. It seems I don't know the city so well. A lot's changed since ALO came back online, hasn't it?"
Crysheight took the fourth seat at the table, trading greetings with Ezekiel, before getting down to business:
"I looked into the address Kirito-kun gave me. Unfortunately, the information I'm allowed to disclose is limited, due to privacy concerns."
Ezekiel scoffed, shaking his cup.
"You can't say that in an email?"
"There are lots of things I can say in an email; not many of them are useful. To date, though, no one has enough capability to record VR data and play back more than a few seconds of it, so any conversations we have here are much more private, don't you think?"
At that, Ezekiel nodded, and Crysheight went on.
"Still, I have an obligation to respect privacy, so please, bear that in mind if what I say isn't as helpful as it could be. I can't tell you very much because the task force never had any reason to contact anyone at that address. I don't think anyone from SAO ever lived there."
Then why did Aurora give us that address?
"However, I did find in the public record that the residents have been there since before SAO launch day. Whoever you're supposed to find, they're still there."
"Then we have to go there."
That was Sachi.
"Aurora wanted us to meet someone there. We owe it to her."
Ezekiel glanced down the edge of the balcony, at the tree below.
"I'd say we don't owe the dead anything, but…yeah, let's do it."
Who was I to say no to that?
#
We asked Liz to delay the party to Saturday. Sachi and I took the train to Yamagata that morning, and we met Ezekiel in town.
The busride through Yamagata showed us a wide, expansive city, sitting at the base of a mountain. The Konida neighborhood of Yamagata was a residential area, near a park and a public library. Building 4-11 was a two-story home, with cream-colored exterior walls and a brown roof, but what struck me was the wall of plants that blocked off the front of the house from the street. A line of tall shrubs and bushes obscured any view of the house from the road, and it was only when we peered around the driveway that we could even make out the house at all.
Sachi eyed one of the shrubs curiously, and she remarked,
"Maybe they just don't want to be disturbed?"
It made sense. If they did have something to do with Aurora, it would make sense. It couldn't be easy for any family with a loved one trapped in SAO. I could imagine some neighbors not being very understanding—especially with the experiences Aurora went through.
But we went to the door anyway, hoping that we wouldn't be turned away out of hand.
Sachi rang the bell, but the door didn't open right away. There was a slight sound as someone looked at us through the peephole.
"Who are you? What do you want?"
A man's voice. Her father, perhaps?
Sachi cleared her throat and introduced us.
"Is this the Terada residence?"
"What if it is?"
"Do you have a daughter named Itsuki?"
"Why do you ask?"
"We were friends of your daughter, I think. We came to pay our respects."
"Friends of my daughter? I've never seen you before; don't lie to me! Get out of here! Leave your pins or firecrackers or dead animals on the doorstep! I have no time for people like you!"
"Please! We met in SAO. We're not even sure if we got the right name. I'm sorry I don't have any proof to convince you, just—"
The door opened. A man—a little overweight and with thinning hair—sized us up with hard brown eyes.
"What are you people from?"
"Tokyo and Niigata."
"I see. You must be friends of Hikari-chan's. Well, I must apologize. I'm sure you can understand, after what happened, we're pretty wary of strangers here, but if Hikari-chan gave you this address, she must've trusted you. Please, come inside."
The man Terada beckoned us to enter, and he showed us to living room.
"My wife is out at the moment, but I'll get Itsuki and then make some tea. Is that all right?"
Given the circumstances, the best any of us could say was yes. We took our seats around the table, and after a fashion, Terada returned with "Itsuki."
She was fair-skinned, with long, flowing black hair. Her lips were pressed together tightly, as if to say even this journey was a struggle for her.
Not a physical struggle, mind you. How could it be? She didn't have to do anything. Her father wheeled her into the room all on his own, and he parked her chair near the dinner table.
"Itsuki, these people were Hikari-chan's friends in SAO."
At that, Itsuki's eyes came to life.
"Hikari's friends? Really?"
Sachi pressed her hands together and bowed slightly.
"That's right. We wouldn't be here without her. She reached out to us and gave us support in a time of need. We were all grateful for her, and I for one considered her a dear friend."
Itsuki smiled at that, and her father left the four of us alone. Itsuki looked between the three of us before asking,
"What made you come here? Now? SAO's been over since last year, hasn't it?"
"It's taken us all some time to recover and regain strength. I'm sorry; we would've liked to be here sooner. Actually, Aurora didn't—I mean, Hikari, sorry—she didn't explain what we'd find at this address. We thought it would be her family."
The girl Itsuki pursed her lips, nodding knowingly.
"Her family wouldn't have received you well. They didn't approve of Hikari playing SAO—not because they didn't approve of games, just who she would be playing it with. We were close friends, you see, but her family never liked that."
"You're Tal, aren't you?"
Itusuki's teacup clinked on the table.
"She told you the story?"
"She told us you were attacked, both of you. She didn't say that you were a girl. Or that…"
Sachi gestured to the wheelchair, and Itsuki nodded again. She stroked the wheel and the spokes with her finger.
"Hikari always felt guilty about this, about what happened to me. SAO was the way we could be together, the way I could walk again. Tal was going to be my character's name. She picked Aurora to be similar to her own. She wanted to test it out before we both committed to playing. Now, because of me, she's gone."
"That's not your fault."
"Isn't it?"
Itsuki sat back in her chair, and she glanced at the ceiling.
"Hikari died trying to help me, and everything that's happened since is just what I deserve for that. I get eggs thrown at me when I go outside. The people who did this to me have gone to university and will probably get good jobs. No one will ever know or believe what they did. I can't get a job around her to support myself, so my parents still have to take care of me. This house is my prison, and that's the way it has to be."
Sachi and I looked to each other. There was something in Itsuki's eyes—something I recognized, something Sachi felt a connection with, too.
"So, have you considered playing any other VR games?"
That was Ezekiel, but Itsuki shook her head.
"What does it matter to walk, if you have no one to walk with?"
"You could play with us. We have a guild in ALO, called In Memoriam. It's the same guild Aurora founded in SAO. All three of us were there."
Itsuki bowed her head, letting out a breath in frustration.
"I'm sorry; I appreciate what you're doing, but you don't need to reach out to me just because of her."
"She cared about you a lot, and I cared about her, too. I want to get to know you, and to get to know about her, about how she was in the real world, too. I think we all would enjoy that. We had some good times with her, in SAO."
"You did?"
Pursing her lips, Itsuki frowned, thinking intensely for a few moments.
"Can you tell me about that? About how she was in SAO?"
Ezekiel nodded and smiled. We all did.
We sat with Itsuki for over an hour, talking about how Aurora formed the guild, my duel with her, and how she died trying to stand up against the dark parts of humanity that had so haunted her. But, she was at peace. That was the important thing. She made something that could go on without her.
The hour went by too fast, really, but the party back in Tokyo wasn't going to wait. We invited Itsuki, but she declined.
"It's difficult to go places and come back, but maybe I'll see you in Alfheim. You're Ezekiel, Kirito, and Sachi, right? I'll try to remember that. I don't know if I will, but I'll try."
Ezekiel nodded at that, but as we rose to leave, Sachi approached Itsuki, saying something low and quiet. I only just barely made it out.
"Please do see us. You're not alone, you know."
Itsuki gestured to the wheelchair.
"I don't think you know about that."
"I know what it's like to want to die."
Eyes wide, Itsuki met Sachi's gaze in shock, but after a few silent moments, she looked away, grimacing.
Sachi dragged her cushion over, sitting down next to Itsuki.
"I felt that way, too, in SAO. I lost all my closest real-life friends in that game, but Aurora helped me keep going. Even though she died, she inspired all of us to build something bigger than ourselves, to help people who felt the same as we did and draw strength from one another. She thought she could make hope from nothing, and you know what? She was right. She was absolutely right. Take heart from her life, and know there are people like us around who will support you. I promise you that."
Sachi brushed a finger against Itsuki's hand, and with tears welling up in her eyes, Itsuki took Sachi up on that kindness, linking her hand in Sachi's, and in a soft voice, she said,
"Thank you."
The End
And so ends Auld Lang Syne. This piece, initially conceived as a short AU counterpart to "Red-nosed Reindeer," grew to be quite a bit larger than that story, but I don't regret a single word of it. It was a wonderful opportunity to tell a story about depression, PTSD, and prejudice. It was a joy to bring Sachi back to life and to see that, despite her struggles, she could find enough hope to keep going.
This process of writing the story in advance and then publishing it piecemeal on Sufficient Velocity, and then later in larger segments on FFN, has helped me appreciate the importance of editing and a coherent vision. If I take nothing else away from this experience, it's the value of having the whole work in front of you to make changes and consider revisions. That, to me, is part of the process of making a piece of artful writing.
If you've enjoyed this story, I hope you will share it with others. Recommend it to your friends, and tell me what you enjoyed about it. If you stuck around this long and felt the piece wanting, I would appreciate hearing about that, too, so that I may improve my writing for the future. All in all, I want this piece to be as good as it can be, and I want to share it with others, so that the message of hope and perseverance here can be spread as widely as possible.
My thanks to several readers who have helped give feedback over the course of this publication. On Sufficient Velocity, thanks to Mizu, Spectrum, Skychan, Flere821, JumperPrime, Chloe Sullivan, and any others I may neglect. On FFN, my thanks to demonsshade and Agent94. All of you have helped me with feedback to iron out inconsistencies and defects. Without you, the piece would not be what it is.
And finally, my thanks to you, dear reader. I don't know when or if I will write again for Sword Art Online. If I do, I hope we meet again. Thus, I do not say goodbye to readers I part with. I can only say,
Until next time.
-Muphrid
Version Log
First draft finished July 27, 2014.
This message written November 12, 2014, for publication of the second draft on Sufficient Velocity.
Second draft published on FFN December 20, 2014. Happy New Year, and may the memories of days gone by give you strength for those challenges in life yet to come.