A/N:
First and foremost, I want to thank you for sticking around despite the heartbreak of last chapter. I know I lost some of my readers, so the fact that you're reading this means that you decided you wouldn't give up on this story, so for that I thank you.
The support I've received in light of Kizmel's death has been overwhelming, to say the least. I'm not exaggerating when I say that Chapter 75 is the most reviewed and commented chapter in this entire work thus far. I think between FFN and AO3, I've received over 40 reviews and comments, which is just… wow. Clearly the emotional gut punch worked. A little too well, actually.
Next few chapters are going to wind down from the chaos that was the Laughing Coffin arc, and then we'll be in the home stretch!
...More or less
On with the show!
Suguha hated seeing her sister-in-law like this.
One week ago, the Resolute Renegades joined the rest of the Assault Team in a battle that would neutralize Laughing Coffin as a threat to the citizens of Aincrad. One week ago, Suguha witnessed the people that had formed around her brother as found family fight alongside each other against a group of people who were certifiably insane. One week ago, many of the Renegades came as close to death as they'd ever been, save for the tragedy of the 25th.
One week ago, Kizmel fell in battle.
Suguha stood in the doorway of the room Asuna and Kirito shared and watched as the renowned Lightning Flash, vice-leader of the Resolute Renegades, and inspiration to millions of girls worldwide…
…Mourned.
Asuna couldn't see her, of course. The Yuukis were magnanimous enough to gift Suguha and her family with a set of Amuspheres, so that they might spectate the day-to-day lives of those inside "in-person" and in far greater detail than what was visible through the now-public streams. As such, Suguha could freely wander Nelluon Arael, the place her brother called home for effectively a year at this point.
The rest of the Resolute Renegades were similarly devastated by the loss of their resident Dark Elf, to the surprise of no one watching from the real world. The five stages of grief – or at least the first four – were on full display depending on who you looked at among the Renegades, yet Suguha couldn't help but focus on Asuna.
Distraught wouldn't even begin to describe the young fencer.
For the past several days Asuna would spend her spare time isolated in her room. Right now was one such time; while the rest of the Renegades were eating a decent meal cooked by Leonn, Asuna was sitting on her bed with a blank, distant look on her face.
It was bizarre, really. Suguha had never truly met the girl, or even so much as held a conversation with her, and yet in the many months of watching her interactions with her brother, she'd developed a sort of bond with her sister-in-law. Slowly, gingerly out of respect for a girl who had no idea she was being watched, Suguha entered the room and sat next to Asuna. Part of her hoped that the fencing prodigy – as the online forums called her – could somehow sense Suguha's comforting presence, but she knew better than to hope for anything like that. She couldn't even reach out to offer a consoling hug; the only objects she could interact with while spectating were virtual items she conjured, like food. Furniture seemed to be the exception to this rule, but that was beside the point.
"I… I know you can't hear me." Suguha found herself speaking in spite of herself. "But… I don't know, I guess I want you to know that I'm here for you."
No response from the grieving fencer, as was expected.
"You know… outside, some are calling Kizmel's death one of the greatest scientific losses in the history of artificial intelligence. They keep talking about how it's such a waste of potential, and how if she'd survived she would have brought forth a new age of AI, but they're wrong. I never met her myself but I could tell… she was more than that. Especially to you and Kazuto. I could tell she was family. The older sister you never had. Yes, Kouichirou's a good older brother – or at least I assume so, he seems like a nice enough guy – but Kizmel was different."
Suguha felt a pained smile cross her face.
"She was curious, but never rude. Supportive, but never intrusive. Stoic, but never uncaring. Heh, I wish I could have gotten to know her. I could use an older sister; you and I both know girl talk isn't Kazuto's strong suit."
Suguha let out a small chuckle, but composed herself when she remembered Asuna was never going to respond.
"Maybe it's selfish of me, but I'd like that for us when you get out. I'd really like to get - "
*Knock-knock.*
Both girls turned towards the door, where a very somber Kazuto stood, while a saddened Yui stood in his shadow, grasping his hand like it was going to disappear at any moment.
"Can we come in, Mama?"
Suguha felt her heart break. Why did her niece have to be so damned cute? Asuna seemed to agree, if the pained smile was any indicator.
"Of course, sweetie. Come sit next to Mama."
Yui seemed to brighten up at least a little at that, and Suguha got up to allow room for her brother and niece to sit down. She didn't have to move, necessarily, but it would have ruined the mood (for her at least) if either of them sat down through her.
"Mama, are you still sad about Auntie Kizmel?"
Asuna visibly shuddered, and Suguha found herself wincing at the innocent, yet accidentally insensitive question.
"Yes, sweetie. I'm still sad. I loved your auntie; she was like a sister to me."
"I'm gonna miss her, too." Yui mumbled. "Do you think we'll ever see her again?"
Asuna shook her head. "I don't think so, sweetie. Papa already tried looking to see if she was back where we found her, but she wasn't there."
Suguha frowned. Kazuto was running himself ragged between distracting himself with the clearing effort and checking the 3rd floor every day to see if Kizmel respawned. There was a Dark Elf there every time, but every time there was something off. Some were taller, others shorter. Some with different colored hair. Some were even male. While many of them looked like Kizmel…
None were ever her.
"Do you want a hug, Mama?"
Suguha's heart broke. Again.
"I would love a hug, sweetie."
Slowly, and without the enthusiasm that Suguha associated with her niece, Yui crawled forward on the bed and hugged her mother. This wasn't the kind of strong, almost-violent hug that could be considered a "glomp." No, this was much more tender, delicate, and carried with it an intense yearning for companionship and love. It was less of a squeeze and more of a snuggle.
"Papa, you too."
Suguha thought she was going to have a heart attack at this point, as she watched Kazuto join in on the hug. After a solid minute of familial cuddling, the three broke off and composed themselves, though Yui was still clutched onto her mother's arm.
"We still need to give her a proper send-off, though." Asuna sighed. "Were you able to contact the Queen?"
Kazuto nodded. "They're ready when we are."
As the family left the room to begin preparations, Suguha brought up her menu to log out, and a moment later she woke up on her bed, in her own room. Part of her still felt guilty that she was able to do such a simple action, while those she watched daily were unable to.
She glanced outside her window. It was gloomy, and the dark clouds in the distance foretold of rain. It was odd, Suguha realized. Whenever tragedy struck, the weather seemed to respond in kind, as if nature was mourning, too. Perhaps she was biased in that perception; she didn't know, but it seemed accurate enough. A funeral held in the rain was far more fitting and memorable than one held on a bright day.
She sat up and stretched, feeling her muscles cry out in release after the stiffness that came from sitting in one place for over an hour of inactivity. She shimmied off her bed and made her way over to her closet, shuffling through her selection until she found what she wanted. She knew no one would see, but this was necessary; an unseen act of solidarity and support exemplified by a simple piece of clothing.
A black dress.
It was raining that day.
Kirito stood there, blankly, as he stared at the ornately designed coffin. Elvish funeral traditions were strikingly similar to human ones, as it turned out. They were held with the same reverence, certainly, as evidenced by the somber mood hanging over the area.
After speaking with the Queen and King of the Dark and Forest elves, respectively, a new quest had opened up titled [In Memoriam]. He couldn't help but grimace at the idea that Kizmel's funeral had translated into a quest, as if there was any reward that could justify her death. What's more, it implied that Kizmel was always meant to die, and he refused to believe that to be the case. If it weren't for Laughing Coffin, he had no doubt in his mind that Kizmel would have lived to the very end. It left a bad taste in his mouth, and based on the expression of the other pallbearers nearby, he was not alone in that opinion.
Klein wore a scowl on his face as he uneasily shifted from side to side. The samurai hadn't taken well to Kizmel's death at all, not that any of the other Renegades did either, really. After asking around, apparently Klein was one of the last Renegades to talk to Kizmel before she confronted PoH, and it didn't take a genius to come to the conclusion that Klein was blaming himself for Kizmel's death.
There was a lot of that going around.
Lokuss was absolutely grief-stricken, and given what Kirito knew of the loremaster's family situation, that made sense. Kizmel was family, and after that emotional confession Lokuss made in the bath house, only to lose a member of his found family? It was hitting him especially hard.
Leonn and Sinon were also designated pallbearers, and both looked haunted. Neither were anywhere near the scuffle that ultimately claimed Kizmel's life, but he knew the two had spilled blood during that skirmish. Sinon wore her usual stoic facade, but even he could see the thinly veiled panic in her eyes. She was barely holding it together.
Leonn looked better, but if the concerned looks from Liz over the past week were any indication, he was keeping it all bottled up. Up until those two got together, Kirito had no idea his friend was liable to bottle things up in the first place; not only was it decidedly unhealthy, but Kirito couldn't help but feel ashamed that he didn't know that about one of his closest friends. How long had he been suffering in silence? Thankfully, Liz was breaking him of that over time, but this was sure to set him back significantly.
Asuna was the last of the other pallbearers, and she looked… empty. Her expression was neutral, if nothing else, but he knew how to read his wife. She was still in pain. Certainly a far cry better than the sobbing mess immediately following the battle, and only slightly better than this morning when he and Yui found her practically catatonic in their bedroom, but still suffering. He knew she blamed herself more than anyone else. For all her incredible speed, she wasn't able to get to Kizmel in time to resurrect her.
Not that he was much better. If he'd been faster, maybe he could have been the one to stop PoH. He wasn't fast enough, and Asuna – still consumed by her rage – had delivered the deathblow to the leader of the red guild herself. He didn't enjoy killing, but if he absolutely had to, he would have gladly killed PoH so she wouldn't have had to.
Oh gods… gladly? Was he becoming desensitized to murder?
He shook his head, dispelling those thoughts. He could have a nervous breakdown later. Now was not the time for that.
*GONG…*
On cue, Kirito and his fellow pallbearers took up positions alongside the coffin meant to symbolize their fallen sister. Kirito and Asuna took up positions near the head, followed by Sinon and Leonn. Finally, Klein and Lokuss took up the rear.
*GONG…*
The doors in front of them slowly creaked open, revealing the innermost and most sacred of areas for the Elves. It was an area Kirito knew well. After all, he'd fought alongside an army of elves against a common foe here, and in doing so saved their sacred trees. A quick glance at his HUD was enough to remind him of the name that would forever – at least in his mind – be known not as the arena where ((General Kar of the Fallen)) fell…
[Aestar ath Suor Shantar - Union of the Sacred Trees].
…instead, it would be cemented in his memory as Kizmel's final resting place.
*GONG…*
Taking a deep breath and steadying his nerve, Kirito and his fellow pallbearers stepped forward into the sanctum of the elves' sacred trees. Above their heads loomed the two sacred trees themselves, blanketing the hundreds that stood below in an odd sort of tranquility that none dared to break. In the center of the chamber was an open space; while there was no real rehearsal for this ceremony, Kirito instinctively knew they were to bring the coffin there.
Each step forward felt heavy, and an unbearable weight settled on his shoulders, a weight that had absolutely nothing to do with the coffin resting on his left shoulder. He didn't need to look over to tell that his wife was silently sobbing, her composed, aristocratic facade cracking as her true emotions threatened to spill out in front of hundreds.
This was it.
The worst kind of closure.
The faces of the elves in attendance were solemn, but disciplined. Stoic to a fault; it was only then that Kirito realized just how much Kizmel had changed in her time with them. Just as she'd changed them, they changed her in turn. He held fond memories of rare moments of Kizmel cracking jokes, playing with Yui, or even just relaxing in their guild hall. Sure, she was courteous and chivalrous through it all – as befitted a knight – but she'd decidedly become more human.
More alive.
On that note, the human expressions, unlike those of the elves, were far less restrained. All of the Renegades were in tears, and while the intensity of their visible grief ran the gamut, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that every single one of them felt her loss immensely. The DDA and KoB were in attendance as well; their expressions were far more muted, but still respectfully somber. Alice and Lind were the exceptions, and both looked deeply troubled.
Before he knew it, they'd reached the center and placed the coffin down. As they filed away and walked towards the others, Kirito reached out and clasped Asuna's hand. She quickly closed the distance and he found himself giving her a side hug as they joined the others. Yui quickly moved her way through the crowd and snuggled into her parents' embrace, tears streaming down her face.
"I miss her."
Kirito sighed. "We miss her too."
"I wish she didn't…"
Asuna gave a gentle squeeze. "So do we, sweetie. But she did…"
Yui shoved her face deeper into Kirito's chest, and he could feel her sobs becoming more violent. Yet she didn't wail or scream like other girls her age were expected to do. She stayed silent. He wasn't sure if that was out of respect for the ceremony or because of how unusually mature she could be at times.
The ceremony itself was a blur. He remembered it being tragically beautiful, at least. He lost track of who all spoke, but Asuna would later remind him that nearly every Renegade had words to say. Even his own speech faded into the background, though he would later be complimented on his choice of words, as if that would ever allay his feelings of grief, guilt, and hopelessness. However, there were two details that stuck out to him at the end of the ceremony, one which was honestly touching and one that reminded him of that sour taste in his mouth.
The first, which was painfully symbolic, was the use of Elven charms to return the coffin to the sacred trees in accordance with Elvish tradition. It resulted in the coffin disintegrating into a slow, spiraling swarm of floating lights that ascended into the air and into the sacred tree branches overhead. It was beautiful, and he had no doubt it held great significance to the elves. He was glad that one of his last memories of Kizmel was one of soft, elegant beauty instead of the chaos of the battlefield.
Ironically, he wished Kizmel could have seen it in all its splendor.
The second, which was probably meant to be just as symbolic, rapidly twisted into that horrible feeling that reminded him of how heartless and callous Akihiko Kayaba could be. After the coffin dispersed into "energy" that flowed back into the trees, a rather large seed sprouted from a spot where the two trees intersected. The seed, which was about the size of a melon, crashed to the floor unceremoniously and disrupted the overall mood of the ceremony itself. The Elves believed it to be a symbol of rebirth, a last testament to Kizmel's resilience and just how full of life she was. It landed near Leonn, who had to be shoved out of the way by Liz or else take the seed straight to the head. Leonn, to his credit, quickly recovered and went to inspect the seed that had so rudely interrupted the funeral, only for it to disappear into his inventory. Later, he would reveal to the guild that the seed, called ((Seed of the Guardian)) was yet another soulbound item.
It should have been symbolic.
Instead, it felt like a slap in the face.
How DARE Kayaba – or Cardinal, whatever – give out a reward for Kizmel's funeral? As if her passing was some sort of objective to unlock whatever the hell this seed was? Now Leonn was going to have to carry around an item that he couldn't trade, sell, or discard. An item that would forever serve as a reminder of a dear friend's passing.
If the deep scowl was anything to go off of, Leonn felt the same way. He managed to compose himself enough for the funeral to finally end, but Kirito couldn't help but shake how insensitive the gesture was.
How low could you get?
There wasn't a body to bury, and Asuna wasn't sure how to feel about that.
On the one hand, it meant that the ceremony was exactly that: a ritual held only to honor their fallen sister, and not a custom that happened to coincide with the disposal of a body. It held deeper significance that way. Everyone here went through the ceremony because they wanted to, not because they had to. In a way, it was beautiful.
On the other hand, it was a painful reminder that Kizmel was well and truly gone. There wasn't even a body left. In a sense, the only evidence that Kizmel truly existed was the memories they had of her and the equipment they'd salvaged from when her avatar exploded. Were it not for Kizmel's status as a player, Asuna doubted they would even have that much to remember her by.
The ceremony itself was beautiful. She was surprised that the KoB, DDA, and Sleeping Knights had opted to attend as well. The KoB and DDA had already held services for their fallen members, so that meant they were here solely in remembrance of Kizmel.
Another reminder of just how special she was.
Alice and Lind looked particularly shaken through the experience. From what she gathered after the battle, Kizmel had sacrificed herself to save them… which was just so very Kizmel. Her life, as far as she knew, was lived in service to others. She'd started as an elf serving her country, but even well after she learned of her existence as a program, Kizmel continued to live in service of the players. Kizmel surely knew there was the real possibility she would never live to see the outside world, and that she would perish alongside Aincrad, but nevertheless she continued to do her best to free the thousands of souls trapped in this game.
The appearance of that soulbound seed definitely soured the mood, but Asuna couldn't afford to dwell on that heartless reminder. She'd focus on that later, once everybody was -
"Can… I talk to you guys?"
Asuna shook herself back to reality and out of her inner dwellings at the sound of Lokuss's voice. The loremaster was now standing in front of her, Kirito, and Yui. She idly had to remind herself that she was here at the wake, not in the safety of home where she could safely sit and dwell on things. She had to be here, and be present as not only a representative of the Resolute Renegades, but as someone who was especially close to the deceased.
"What is it, Lok?" Kirito asked.
Lokuss looked… focused. Yes, there was sadness and sorrow in his eyes, but his gaze also hinted at something more serious. Like he'd come to a decision. A small part of her brain whispered that the loremaster was going to leave the guild, that his grief over losing the Dark Elf was so much that he wanted to retire from the clearing effort.
"I want to fight."
"...Huh?" Came the reply in stereo, as Asuna and Kirito found themselves confused by his declaration.
"Sorry, back up." Kirito said, shaking out of his stupor. "You want to fight?"
"I want to join you guys on the front line, help with the clearing effort more."
"You already do, Lok." Asuna tried to assure him. "The info you and Argo are able to gather helps us find quests and research bosses."
"Not like that. I can't help but think what might have happened if I fought alongside you all during the Laughing Coffin raid. If I was there, right beside Kizmel, would she have lived? I know I shouldn't be thinking like that, but I… I…"
Asuna frowned as the loremaster began to tear up and sputter. For the past week, she was in that exact same place, the same mindset as Lokuss was right now. For her – though she would admit to being biased in this assumption – she was to blame for Kizmel's death. She wasn't the one to strike the death blow, but she had the power to bring Kizmel back from the dead. She could have and certainly wanted to, but she wasn't fast enough. Her own shortcomings led to this.
"It's not your fault, Lok!" Yui exclaimed, tears in her eyes. "It's not your fault either, Mama!"
Asuna was taken aback at that; was she so obvious?
"I know you're beating yourself up and thinking you're why she's gone. You can be sad but you're not allowed to blame yourselves! It's those bad guys' fault! Not yours!"
"Yui, I'm afraid it's not that simple - "
"No, Lok!" Yui spat, causing the three teens to stop out of sheer shock. Yui never talked back like this. "You all tried your hardest, didn't you?"
"Well… yes, but - " Asuna stammered out, only to get cut off again by her daughter.
"Do you think Auntie Kizmel blames you?"
"Of course she wouldn't, but - " Kirito tried to object.
"Then stop it!" Yui scolded. "You're allowed to grieve, but it's not healthy to shift the blame onto yourselves. Doing that will lead to a downward spiral of doubt and eventual anger, and no one benefits from that. Recognize that her death happened, but don't let it dominate your life. Auntie Kizmel wouldn't want that; she would want you to be happy, so do your best to honor her memory instead."
Asuna opened her mouth to speak, but found herself too gobsmacked to give anything resembling a proper response. She knew Yui was a natural empath and unnaturally mature about some things, but this was something else. It almost sounded… educated? Clinical? Practiced? Like something a therapist would say, not a 6-or-7-year old child. Yet it came so naturally to her. Just who was her daughter?
"Wow." Kirito responded with such eloquence. "That was… really well thought out, Yui."
"Yeah…" Lokuss said, eyes narrowed. "...really well articulated. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that came right out of a psychology textbook."
"That's my job!" Yui declared, sniffling as she wiped her tears away. "I know you don't want me fighting, so I'm going to do my best to keep you happy! I'm your morale officer!"
Asuna couldn't help but chuckle as she wiped away some of her own tears. "Okay, sweetie. As vice-commander of the Resolute Renegades, I dub thee the official "Renegade Morale Officer.""
"Yay!" Yui cheered; Asuna was glad to see her daughter's mood lifting somewhat. "Oh, speaking of… Mama, Papa? Can I go talk with Auntie Alice and Uncle Lind? They look sad, too, and I wanna try to cheer them up."
Startled at the sudden selflessness – not that it was unusual, but Yui rarely ever interacted with others outside the guild – Asuna could only nod. Kirito was much more coherent, fortunately, and gave a proper reply.
""Uncle Lind"? I can see Alice being your auntie, but Lind? What brought this on?"
"Auntie Kizmel used to say that the Assault Team is almost like one big family, even if you don't always get along. So that makes Lind one of my uncles!"
Asuna sighed, her breath a strange mixture of contentment from watching her daughter try to brighten the lives of others and pain from the circumstances that led her to this point. It would take some time for her to heal, she knew that much. Trying to get over Kizmel's death so soon would dishonor her memory. She would take her daughter's advice, oddly enough. Asuna would take as long as she needed.
For all of her speed, even the Lightning Flash had to take her time grieving.
Shouzou Yuuki was incensed.
Having to watch his daughter face off against known murderers was torture. He felt no pride with every killer she defeated, and he felt only anger when she killed PoH. He was not angry with her; he could never be angry with her. No, he was angry that she had to be the one to bring the leader of Laughing Coffin to justice.
Did he wish she had arrested him? Of course.
Did he blame her for cutting him down? Not at all.
He'd watched her long enough to know the Dark Elf known as Kizmel was her surrogate big sister in there. Kouichirou even admitted as much, that the elf was filling a role that he should have been present for. Kizmel had provided much needed support and – strangely enough – love for his daughter. He would forever be indebted to the NPC for her role in helping to raise his daughter, whether she was aware of it or not.
That was the main reason why he'd started shuffling resources around. Kizmel was data, and he sincerely doubted Kayaba would so wantonly delete such a unique program. She had to exist somewhere in SAO. It was a long shot, certainly, but he had to try. Cardinal was the gatekeeper here, unfortunately, and thus they were unable to dig into the data itself. But once the game finished, and the defenses were down?
Then they could begin recovery efforts.
Hopefully that hardware project was coming along as well; that would be crucial if they were lucky enough to find Kizmel's data.
But that was out of his hands for the moment. There was one thing he could do right now to lessen his daughter's future pain. Asuna had been through more than enough pain, suffering, and grief for one lifetime, and he was not about to let her wake up into another nightmare of his own making.
It was something he and Takei Tomo had been working on for quite some time now, and now was the time to spring the trap. He fished out his phone and dialed the number he'd called so many times at this point, he'd memorized it. The phone rang out a few times before a faint click sounded, signaling that the call had been answered. Before a snarky greeting could be made from the other end, Shouzou spoke with such presence and determination that his listener could only remain silent.
"We've sat around long enough, Takei. It's time."
