Day 0

In a way, Suguha supposed she should have expected something like that. It was in her brother's nature to try and 'break the ice', per se – Attempt to make it seem like there's nothing wrong with him, and like he doesn't feel anything or doesn't care about anything.

She was certain that was his intention, here, with those nonchalant words. Funny enough, however, the effect it had was the opposite.
His voice was deeper, now – and really raspy. She supposed he'd have to get used to talking again, before he could sound normal. And it just figures that it's her brother who will need to talk more often in order to heal.

Irony at it's finest.

However, there was something… deeply nostalgic about the words he'd picked. She wasn't sure if he had said something similar to her, back then, or if it was just the feeling she got from them – "Welcome home."

She parted her lips to answer, but no words came out – Not even a silent whimper escaped her throat. She gazed upon the ghost returned to life beyond her eyes, and froze, because that?

That was more than simply surreal. It was something straight out of one of her dreams.

Her mother, however, didn't seem to be having the same difficulties. Ignoring the doctor's protests – "His body is still fragile, you shouldn't…" –Midori Kirigaya shot forward as quickly as humanly possible and embraced Kazuto with all the might of a thousand tiger mothers.

She could her them, her mother's soft sobs, against Kazuto's collarbone. It was a heart wrenching sound, one bursting with agony and relief alike – And for one as composed as her mother was, it was…

Well.

Kazuto smiled softly – Even as his eyes dimmed, he reached out to caress their mother's back comfortingly, bony hand making slow, circular motions. His long hair fell over his face as he lowered it, obscuring much of his features.

It was a grim visage, but just as promising. Suguha found herself staring, burning the picture into her memory until each and every detail was clear – maybe because she feared that, in a moment, she would awaken from deep slumber and all of this would be little more than a dream.

And if that's the case –

Suguha surged forward, practically throwing herself onto her mother and brother. As she collided with her mother's back, Kazuto's lips parted in a desperate "Oomph!", but she didn't really care. In an instant, she had wrapped her arms around him, tightening her hold a little – Desperate for something.

But for what? She couldn't quite tell. Didn't really want to, either, not now.

They stayed like that for a minute at most – Yet it felt like forever. Then, Doctor Fujisaka reached out to nudge her mother's shoulder softly, almost hesitant in a way. And, when Midori's gaze turned to his face, a mixture of grief and happiness and anger at being interrupted, the man announced, his voice low.

"Uh. I'm sorry to interrupt you, but we… need to perform a few more tests on his body."

A pause.

Midori sighed, raising from her position and running her fingers through her black locks of hair. Suguha, for her part, stayed put for a moment longer, holding her brother close.

"Sugu."

She wouldn't take long. Just… a moment longer.

"Sugu."

Okay.

Suguha released Kazuto from her grasp and stood beside her mother, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve. Her entire face felt wet – And it might be, but whatever does it matter?

Kazuto seemed… out of it. Lost somewhere between nostalgia and exhaustion. Which is understandable – Just by looking at him, you could tell how fragile he was, and more importantly, the change in everything must still be shocking for him. It would be for her, at least.

The girl gazed upon him for a moment longer, then nodded for herself. Looking towards her mother, who was conversing with the Doctor, Suguha knew, just as certainly as she knew her own name –

Everything would be okay.

Knowing that, the girl walked out, leaving behind her realized fantasies and fears alike. She walked and walked, until she was far beyond her Mother's sight – And Kazuto's, too –and when that was done, she laid her back against a wall.

The concrete was cold and hard against her back, unevenly poking at her in sharp ways. It would usually be too uncomfortable, but not then. She raised her face to the ceiling above, inhaling deeply – Hearing her own breathing wavering, trembling just as much as the rest of her – and then, biting her lower lip, she counted.

One. Two. Three.

Suguha exhaled. It hurt her chest a little, but in a good way – A real way, one she could be certain was there. Then, once more – Inhale, count to three, exhale. Inhale, count to three, exhale.

She couldn't afford to break down, couldn't –

But too late – she felt the tears streaming down her face, tracing gentle patterns on her face as they traveled, before finally dripping down from her chin and unto the floor. She bit her lip, though – And so, even if she cried her heart out, not a single sound would escape her lips.

And really – wasn't that what mattered most?

The doctors proceeded to bombard him with questions over questions, poke at every single spot in his body – well, not every spot, thankfully, otherwise… Yeah. That took about two hours.

The man in charge of him – What was his name again? Fujimura? Oh, right. Fujisaka. – had explained his condition to him in great detail, and even though Kazuto wasn't completely ignorant of the specifics of medicine, much of it flew right over his head. However, he did get the generals – He'd be staying in the hospital for around a week or two, before returning 'Home.'

Even now, Kazuto didn't know if he should snort or scream at that.

He would also begin an extensive and intensive physiotherapy after that. Woo. Kazuto was not looking forward for that.

Only after he was alone once more did Kazuto manage to let out the breath he was holding inside. It was a disgusting sound, in his opinion – halfway between a whimper and a sob, it represented all of the parts of him he had shed away when he became Kirito.

That was- It was too much. He felt himself raising a hand to his heart, grasping at the fabric that covered his chest as tightly as he possibly could, a grimace making its way to his face as he shut his eyes closed.

He wouldn't cry – Couldn't. Somehow, it felt as if he had run out of tears to spare long, long ago. But the feeling was there still, eating him away, lost somewhere amidst resentment and relief.

Bittersweet. That was what it felt like – A bittersweet reunion, born on dreams and eating those same fantasies away. He could admit this to himself, now – He had missed them, had yearned for them in those hours where he felt like the world was collapsing atop his shoulders.

If he had cried for his mother that night, after he watched his entire guild be slaughtered beyond his eyes, who would ever know? If he had felt as if his heart was being crushed inside his chest whenever he looked at Silica and reminded himself of Suguha, waiting for him outside, then so what? It wasn't like he had to give up all of his fears and resentment to love them.

Yearning for someone and keeping them at arm's length – That was one of those things Kazuto had gotten good at. Watching from afar and convincing himself with some half-truths that this was the way it was, that he deserved this, that they deserved this.

He'd always been good at rejection. Perhaps because he was afraid of being rejected himself.

However – Now that he was here, it all felt insufficient. Not because of some inability to forgive and forget (even if that, too, was true) but because this was a meeting born atop the death of an entire journey. Because being here meant he would never again get to gaze upon the grandiose castle in the sky.

Because each second here felt wasted, thrown away, when they could be dedicated to finding Asuna – should be dedicated to that.

And there was the matter of-

Well.

The obvious.
He hadn't expected to feel so conflicted, in the end, and thus even his forced smiles felt like they were stuck halfway between fake and real. An undecided middle between two extremes – It seemed to be a repeating phenomenon in regards to his feelings.

Part of him still refused to accept this all as 'real'. Or rather, refused to admit that Aincrad wasn't actually his reality – refused to admit that, perhaps, his destiny wasn't within the castle that floated between the clouds.

The most beautiful of pipe dreams, born from a man who, like him, didn't quite belong where he was born. Kayaba Akihiko was, without a single doubt, one of the most disgusting, horrifying human beings on the planet, but-

Kirito simply could not make himself hate the man. And the reason for that is that, for all of the sheer fuck up that Kayaba had ended up making Kazuto's life into, they were alike in far more ways than they were different.

Up there, on that transparent platform above the clouds, as he overlooked the collapsing conglomerate of dreams in the form of a castle deep below, Kirito had looked upon the figure of Kayaba Akihiko, and saw himself.

Well, it mattered very little now, huh? This was the definition of 'When all was said and done.' The thought was agonizing in a way he couldn't quite put words to, as if they'd fail the truth of it – He found his hand reaching out to his back, fingers grasping the hollow memory of the hilt of a sword no longer there.

Kirito paused.

And Kazuto let out a long-suffering sight. That'd take a while to get used to.

Like, you know – Everything else.

Absent-mindedly, he rose from his spot at the bed. From what he could tell, most tubes had been removed, and the ones that hadn't were connected to his IV, so he could at least walk around a little if he made sure to hold onto it.

Not an idea his doctors would like, probably, but he just needed to feel in control of his own body for a while. That feeling of crippling powerlessness – It rattled him deeply. Just a few hours ago, he was able to leap the length of an entire room, and now?

He had been reduced to this. How appropriate.

Even from the great beyond, Kayaba found a way to fuck him up, even if indirectly. Just fitting, isn't it?

Kirito grasped the metal pole of his IV, taking care not to touch any tube or the likes. And, using it as a support, he got up –

Or, you know, Tried to. He collapsed almost instantly – His legs giving up beneath the unexpected weight. Thankfully, he hadn't actually risen too much, so he merely fell back onto the bed.

Welp. Let's try again. Can't be a wimp and stay here forever, now can I?

Kirito rose. His legs trembled, but didn't give – His desire overweighting his physical weakness, standing tall to represent his desire for whatever it was his heart seemed to scream for tirelessly.

Right.

Right.

Kazuto stepped forward. His knee ached, burned, but didn't waver – And so he stepped forward once more, and once more, until finally – He was walking. Supporting his weight on the IV pole, for sure, but walking.

The door was left open, thankfully, because if he had to let go of his makeshift crutch in order to open it, Kazuto was certain he would fall to the floor below in a messy, pathetic heap.

He stepped outside. The doctors were running around tirelessly, overworked to the bone, going in and out of room after room, talking and screaming at each other about petty nothings. It was a sad visage, to be honest, even if completely understandable.

How many players had been locked into SAO, again? And then, suddenly, they all woke up at the same day. It was bound to be chaotic.

A nurse stopped right by him. She frowned, parting her lips to scold him for being outside, but he shook his head before she could.

"I needed to… Move. By myself. Just… a little."

He still sounded raspy, still sounded wrong, but he hoped the desperation in his eyes was enough to make her understand how he felt. And, by the way her face softened almost immediately, he would say it did.

"Well," the woman said. "Come with me, then. I'll show you around."

Kazuto nodded just once, trying to smile at her, and the woman smiled back kindly, placing a soft hand on his shoulder.

And, so, they walked.