Chapter 10: Murphy's Law is Wrong as Expected
Day 8
The remainder of the journey to the village was rather quiet and uneventful, and Hachiman found himself wondering if things were going a little too well. Reminding himself to stay frosty, he tightened his grip on his AK for the twentieth time in the past hour, glancing around for the slightest trace of enemies as the rest of the group struggled to stay awake, resisting the urge to nap the afternoon away under the cool shade of the woods.
"Onii-chan," his little sister yawned, rubbing her tired eyes in the gentle breeze, "Are we going the right way? I-I feel kinda lost."
"Komachi," he chided, tugging playfully on her ahoge as he motioned at the trio leading the group, "You haven't really been paying attention for a while, have you?"
"Sorry onii-chan, I–" she began, but stopped as he pulled out the handgun from his pocket and offered it to her.
"I think you should take it," he suggested as she blinked in surprise and confusion, "I don't really need it anymore."
"B-But–"
"Don't worry," he assured as she hesitated in the silence, "You're good to go. I've loaded it with spare pistol rounds from Suguha's SMG."
"T-That's not what–" she nearly exclaimed, but caught herself before she could finish. Biting her lip, she bowed, accepting the responsibility that her older brother had entrusted her with as the President of the Service Club.
I'll be strong, she told herself, focusing her mind as he taught her how to handle the firearm, just like onii-chan, just like that purple-haired heroine who fought till the end.
"Maybe I should also learn some sword skills from Suguha-chan one of these days," she giggled, scratching her cheek sheepishly as he patted her head.
So that I can fight by your side and make you proud as your little sister, onii-chan.
The group rose to full alert as they approached the clearing. Shino scanned the surroundings with her scope, satisfied that there were no enemies in sight before setting up her rifle on an overhanging ledge to provide covering fire. Kirito, Suguha and Hachiman performed their final checks on their weapons as Yui and Komachi followed closely behind, awaiting further instructions.
"Hachiman, it's your mission to lead," Kirito noted, gritting his teeth, "Whatever it is, we'll back you up."
Inhaling deeply, the dead-fish eyed loner hesitated for a moment before beginning.
"Komachi, stay here with Shino. The rest - come with me."
"Onii-chan," she stared dejectedly at the floor, a little disappointed at being left out, "Why?"
Sorry, Komachi, I just can't bring myself to. And sorry, Yui, for dragging you along.
I swear I'll make it up to the both of you after all this is over.
"You'll be guarding Shino in case of an ambush," he explained, hating himself for lying to his little sister as the sniper scowled at him, "We don't have comms so it'll be difficult to reinforce each other."
"I-I see," she smiled as she pulled him into a hug, "Promise me you'll save Iroha-senpai and return safely, okay?"
"Of course, Komachi," he laughed, ruffling her hair before turning to leave, "I'll make sure to protect Yui too."
With that, the squad of four proceeded towards the village, sneaking behind bushes and walls for cover. In the eerie silence, the houses remained quiet and the streets appeared empty, as if deserted and abandoned, the only signs of life being the mountain goats grazing lazily on the fields. A few pickup trucks and old mountain bikes were parked by the barns and along the gravel leading to the square, which was similarly devoid of any human presence, movement or activity.
This isn't good, he cursed, clenching his fists as Kirito and Suguha consciously averted their eyes from the dried pool of blood where Asuna had died, is Iroha even in this hell of a place?
"Seems like we don't have a choice but to clear them all," he growled, glaring at the cottages as he charged his rifle, "You guys ready?"
Kirito and Suguha nodded as Yui gulped, tightening her trembling fingers around the handle of her machete, hoping that she would never have to use it on a living being, much less another person.
But the enemy wouldn't just hand over Iroha-chan without a fight. And I can't just let Hikki down, when he trusts me to be by his side.
Time seemed to slow as Hachiman eyed the nearest door, raring to throw the full weight of his frustration and vengeance upon the wood. Drawing a deep breath to calm his nerves and muster his resolve, he prepared himself to tear down the barrier and plough through all the obstacles standing in the way of her rescue.
"Wait," Kirito interrupted before he could destroy the entrance, "We should climb in through the windows. It's easier that way - less noisy and messy too."
"With your experience, maybe," Suguha snorted as she cautiously approached to peer inside, "It's pretty dark and dusty, I can't see a thing–"
She froze, nearly biting her tongue as she caught a glimpse of movement reflecting off the cool surface, the silhouettes of two figures crouching on the roof behind.
In the very next second, the glass exploded into a thousand shards as bursts of gunfire reverberated across the village. Blasts of heated lead erupted all around her as she screamed and ducked, shoving a petrified Yui to the ground as the boys spun around to respond with a tempest of their own. Holding down the trigger, they unloaded their magazines upon the two unfortunate gunmen, riddling their bodies full of holes as they collapsed and tumbled to the floor in a bloodied, disfigured heap.
"Spread out!" Hachiman thundered as he dragged the pink-haired airhead aside while Kirito grabbed his little sister. A dozen more gunmen had joined in the assault, emerging from huts and sheds to flood the streets with bullets as they both scrambled to reload, shouting at themselves and each other to make sure that they were ready to move faster and strike back harder.
For a moment, a brief glimmer of hope and salvation flickered before their eyes as two resounding reports echoed from behind, sprays of red spurting from gaping wounds carved in flesh by the bespectacled sniper. Yet the men were unfazed, confident in burying them like fish in a barrel with the sheer ferocity of the raging storm as they continued to fire indiscriminately from every corner.
"Get in!" Kirito yelled, smashing through the window with Suguha in his stride, stunning the three gunmen holed up inside. Roaring to pump himself, he proceeded to unload thirty rounds at their stunned faces, warm blood spattering all over the walls and the furniture as she shrieked in absolute terror. Dry and out of bullets, he tossed aside the useless SMG and dived for the guns on the floor, just in time to hide behind an overturned couch to fire back at the remaining gunmen, running on but pure subconscious instinct and adrenaline and the muscle memory from his first-hand experience in the death game.
By the time he was done, three more bodies lay at the doorsteps, bleeding away as he took their weapons and re-emerged with his little sister, only to see Hachiman locked in a fierce battle, shielding a stricken Yui as he exchanged intense fire with the final pair who were clad in camouflage and combat armour - clearly the best and the strongest of the lot.
This is bad, he thought aloud as he stared at his SMG, we can't really get through with this.
But he just had to try. What other choice did he have after all?
Hachiman watched as the young man in black charged at the assailants in a hailstorm of suppressive fire, blasting away with an SMG in one hand and a machine-pistol in the other. Relieved of the incoming hurricane, it was the opening he needed - the one and only chance to counterattack.
It's now or never, Hachiman - for Iroha, Yui and Komachi.
Gritting his teeth, the loner steadied his weapon and focused down the sights of his AK, aiming straight at the heads of his enemies, trying not to remember their faces as he tapped the trigger in quick, accurate bursts, piercing their helmets and drilling through their thick skulls with the supersonic rounds of his rifle. It was only a good long minute after the last man had fallen that he could finally breathe again, coughing and choking as he gasped for precious air amidst the stench of raw blood and the acrid smoke of gunpowder.
"Sorry, Yui," was the first thing he said, unable to find the words, "I-I–"
In the cold silence, she merely nodded, tears streaming down her face.
I'm weak and useless, aren't I, Hikki? I'm just a burden. If it was Yukinon, she would've been able to–
She stopped when she saw a figure stumbling out of one of the barns, so very familiar yet barely recognisable with bruises, cuts and burn marks all over her body, her lips cracked and bloodied with clumps of light-brown hair missing from her scalp. The wound on her forehead that had nearly been healed had been forcibly cut open, yet she staggered on despite the unspeakable pain and untold agony, towards the young man that she had endured the very depths of hell to see.
"Took you long enough, senpais," she laughed as her friends stared at her in muted shock and horror, "I was already almost out of my restraints by the time you came. I was strong until the very end, you know, I never once gave them anything they wanted."
"C'mon, say something, don't just stare at me with those dead-fish eyes," she continued in the speechless silence, "We won, I'm saved, so let's celebrate."
Yet the deafening quiet remained as if the world had frozen over, as if they had all been struck dumb and robbed of their ability to speak.
"I-Iroha," was all he could utter, his voice barely a hoarse whisper.
"Senpai, I'm fine," she smiled as she heard him say her name, as if it had all been worth the wait, "Please don't ask, but it's really not as bad as you think. I mean, at least it wasn't anything I couldn't handle by myself. And look at the both of you, I'm sure a lot has happened in the past few hours too."
"Iroha, I–"
"Have you managed to figure out what you really want to do when we go back to school?" she cut him short, extending her hand, "I haven't heard your answer, but I've been thinking about it. Let's go on more practice dates together, shall we? Just the two of us, like old times."
"I guess three is alright if you really insist on bringing Yui-senpai or your little sis," she quickly added before he could reply, "B-But just don't leave me behind or go without me, you hear?"
"Of course, Iroha," he said firmly, reaching out to take her hand, "I'll take responsibility."
"Iroha-chan!" the pink-haired airhead cried, warm tears streaming down her face as she pulled them into a group hug, "Let's go to Destiny Land and the mall and the aquarium, let's hang out in the clubroom with Komachi-chan, let's–"
"Yui-senpai," she interrupted, stammering sheepishly, "M-Maybe after I've recovered a little, okay?"
Seriously, what would I ever do without these troublemakers in my life?
A bunch of misfits like myself and a dead-fish eyed loner of a boy.
If only you could be here with us too, Yukino-senpai, on this miserable nightmare at the end of the world, at least we'd all be together.
Perhaps that's the real thing that I'd requested for after all.
"Hachiman-senpai, Yui-senpai," she closed her eyes in their comforting embrace, allowing the tears to fall - tears that she had forbidden herself from shedding, tears that she had held in throughout all the torment and suffering, sincere, genuine, authentic tears that flowed from the very bottom of Isshiki Iroha's heart.
"Thank you."
Those were her last words as a resounding blast erupted in the distance.
Her head seemed to jerk forward with the momentum, glops of red spattering from the gaping wound between her eyes as the bullet drilled through her skull and exited in less than a fraction of a second. Moments later, her limp body collapsed to the ground, slipping through Yui's grasp as the airhead fell to the floor, rolling and screaming and shaking as blood poured from her missing right ear.
That was when he lost it.
In the cold, deafening silence, something snapped inside Hikigaya Hachiman, he who was named after the ancient Japanese deity - the wishful illusion that there was something, someone still worth saving in this brutal hell of a planet shattering under the weight and enormity of an unyielding, uncaring universe which knew no mercy.
It seemed that there was, after all, no god in this reality.
No judge of morality. No saviour of humanity. No arbiter of justice. No balancer of the scales.
Nothing but cruel men, beasts and perhaps the devil. Nothing but endless cycles of blood, death and insanity.
Before he knew it, he was sprinting towards the glint of the scope, firing as he ran with all his strength. By the time he found himself on top of the enemy sniper, he was on the verge of blacking out in sheer rage, and with blind vengeance and furious anger, he held down the trigger and unleashed the full capacity of the magazine on the wretched face until there was not an inch left of the wry sneer.
He let the empty weapon clatter noisily on the ground as he turned to leave, not bothering to wipe the blood on his cheeks. He had become a monster after all, a force of nature - dark, cold and empty, one that was strangely in tune with the absurd and violent cosmos, not that he had any soul or spirit left in him to care or ponder.
With a blank stare, he shoved aside the trio of weeping onlookers that were but strangers from the beginning, dragging his feet past the wailing airhead and the sobbing mess that was his little sister to kneel beside the motionless, unresponsive corpse that was Iroha, whose life, consciousness and memories were spilling carelessly on the floor in a pool of crimson and vermillion.
"Yui, Komachi, she's dead, let's bury her," he muttered in the silence, reaching forward to pick her up, only to retract his arms as he felt the lingering warmth on his fingers that contrasted so greatly against the icy sensations that he had grown so accustomed to in just over a week.
Warm, as if she's just sleeping, ready to tease me when she wakes up again someday.
Yet he knew otherwise - it was clear from the red puddle on the floor, the entry and exit wounds on her head that Isshiki Iroha was irreversibly dead.
"Komachi, stop holding on," he chided as he pried his little sister's stubborn fingers away from her limp hands, "Can't you see that she's already dead, just like all those people we've slaughtered and killed?"
He half-expected the slap as she hit him, hard. He had asked for it, after all.
He desperately needed her to stop him while he could still be saved.
"She is, but you aren't, are you, Hikigaya Hachiman!" she screamed in his face with all her breath, "You're still alive, just like me and Yui-senpai and Kirito and Suguha and Shino and–."
"Komachi, I-I–"
"You aren't alone, onii-chan," she continued, heaving in the exertion, "You have me, you have Yui-senpai, you have all of us, so act like an older brother and a member of the Service Club, would you?"
"I'm sorry, Komachi," was all he could say as he bowed in sincere apology, "For failing you and everyone else, even when I-I've tried so hard, even when I-I've tried my best."
A moment of silence ensued as she glared at him before softening a little.
"I don't think you understand," she sighed, wiping the tears from his bloodied cheeks, "I'm your little sister and the President of the Service Club, aren't I?"
"Of course, Komachi, why–"
"So let me take care of my older brother, onii-chan, and share the burdens of my dearest member," she finished as he pulled her into a tight embrace, never wanting to let go.
Thank you, Komachi. You don't know how much that means to me.
The trek back to retrieve Alice was utterly quiet. Hachiman, Komachi and Yui took turns carrying Iroha while Kirito, Suguha and Shino shouldered all the firearms and ammunition they had managed to salvage, which turned out to be not as much as they had imagined, having been mostly depleted in the firefight.
In the setting sun, they dug up the android and buried Iroha beside Asuna as the first stars lit up the night. While they may not have known each other for long, it was somehow comforting to think that they could be friends - be it in the afterlife, a parallel universe, or in the log cabin on the 22nd floor of Aincrad. Suguha gave up her Amusphere to be her marker, and with permanent ink they wrote–
"Isshiki Iroha - Student Council President and Member of the Service Club at Soubu High School. Died young but lived free."
"P.S. please be nice to Asuna."
With that, they finally settled down to rest, forming a circle around the graves of their beloved comrades for the first and last time ever.
Goodnight, Iroha, he muttered as he lay on the bed of grass and white flowers, closing his eyes, at least tonight we'll be dreaming under the same sky.
A/N: A blend of Oregairu's character drama with SAO/GGO's gunslinging action - which is the reason why I wrote this crossover in the first place.
Iroha's death is pretty tragic, but it's not entirely unexpected (and sometimes truly unavoidable given the circumstances) when the difficulty setting ramps up as the story progresses, which forces the characters to grow and adapt:
List of deaths so far:
Chapter 4 (Day 2): Shinozaki Rika / Lisbeth - external injuries (plane crash)
Chapter 5 (Day 3): Yukinoshita Yukino [Sachi] - internal injuries (plane crash)
Chapter 7 (Day 6): Ayano Keiko / Silica - wolves
Chapter 8 (Day 7): Yuuki Asuna - multiple gunshot wounds (handgun)
Chapter 10 (Day 8): Isshiki Iroha [Kureha] - gunshot wound (sniper rifle)
P/S: Iroha shares the same VA as Kureha from SAO: Fatal Bullet (game-verse) where she dies in one of the 3 endings.