Chapter 7: What Rises from their Ashes
Friday, 30th of January, 2026. 20:18
There was only the softest of chimes when the couple across from her bought their glasses together; its echo diffused seamlessly into the smooth backdrop of jazz that glided throughout the room, as if it had been utterly phased out of existence by the atmosphere of the bar itself. The faint, familiar aroma of carefully prepared lobster danced through the lounge, waltzing above and around the performers whose instruments nudged melody into the air in effortless response. The pianist, like the other men in the ensemble, wore a tuxedo that hugged his body as a lover would; the singer, a stunningly gorgeous local girl, wore a shining white cocktail dress that accentuated every curve of her youthful figure. With this marriage of sound, smell, and character occurring before the dazzling, all-encompassing view of late-night Tokyo that the bar provided, it was a beauty that had a synaesthetic quality to it.
Yet, however lovely the Park Hyatt Tokyo's New York Bar was, and in spite of how pleasant the ensemble's cover of Vaughan's 'Misty' had turned out to be, Rebecca Reynolds was wishing with all her heart that she was sitting in a ramen shop in Shibuya instead. Plonked down at a private table with her fingers tapping impatiently on the glass, she was waiting in irritation for her so-called 'date' to arrive. Her half-finished cocktail had arrived fifteen minutes ago and at this point she was seriously considering ordering a Dark and Stormy for her second, not because she liked the taste—in fact, quite the opposite— but because its name, she reasoned, aptly reflected her worsening mood.
"He's a highly-regarded and dedicated professional" huh, boss? She rolled the ambassador's words over again and again in her mind. What a joke. She was well aware that dressed as she was, in a tight red cocktail dress and with her golden hair carefully tied up in a chingon, she looked distinctly like a young girl who had just been stood up on her prom date. At 27 years old and as a rising star within the United States' diplomatic mission, this was not an image of herself she fancied. The staff of the bar hadn't said anything, of course, if there was anything the last three years had taught her it was that politeness was indeed a hallmark of the region. One of the other patrons, on the other hand, a young Australian who had undoubtedly inherited most of his wealth, had attempted repeatedly to hit on her before the hotel staff had cautiously ushered him away. The word gaijin, Rebecca acknowledged, had its uses. The same was true for gringo, waegukin(외국인), yankee. As hurtful as they could be, the attitudes of some of her fellow expats occasionally made their usage fitting.
That was probably the reason why she disliked the New York Bar; although she had never watched Lost in Translation, it seems the movie was accurate on the account that it was filled to the brim with foreigners. She couldn't say she fundamentally disliked travelers or her own country-men, hell, she was both a gaijin and, in a sense, in Japan on their behalf. However, she had always lived in the cultures she experienced, and she took a perhaps unreasonable amount of pride from that. The decision to meet in one of the 'iconic' tourist locations in Tokyo had not, by any means, been hers. No, it had been the call of that nightmare of a man who—
Pulled up the chair across from her and sat with a joyous, childish grin on his face. As usual, he hadn't bothered bowing.
"Konnichiwa, Kikuoka-shusha." she practically sighed the greeting out. There was no point in telling him he was late. He knew.
"Hi ya they are Becky! How are you do toda-yu?!" he chirped back, replying to her in the worst English he could possibly manage. Despite her best efforts to maintain her composure, Rebecca Reynolds' allowed her practiced 'diplomatic smile' to twitch at its corners. Kikuoka Seijirou, the leader of the former "Sword Art Online Victim Rescue Force" and a high ranking official in Japan's Ministry of Internal Affairs VR Division, was an anomalous presence among the people she worked with. Most of her 'co-workers' fell into two categories: the Embassy people who assisted her in every way possible in her 'solemn' work, and the Japanese who treated her respectfully but as a secondary priority. The latter, she could ruefully admit, was perfectly understandable considering only fifteen US citizens had been trapped in SAO, five of which died. Her job. at least on paper, was to investigate those five, and, much to her disdain, the fifth and final case had brought her inevitably to Seijirou, who had turned out to fit in neither of the aforementioned categories.
"I'll ask you to keep it professional, Kikuoka-shusha." she countered his bastardization of the English language with fluent Japanese. Perfectly pronounced, mind you, she had always had a talent for languages.
"Shore, Becky-o!" poor English from Seijirou once again. The man was neither embassy nor detached. She had no talent for dealing with him.
Seijirou fell into a third, previously uncharted category: the co-operative but irritating git. He had treated her with the same lazy professionalism as most of his peers during their first meeting, but as soon as she had dropped that he was JSDF as a bargaining tool his demeanor had changed to a far more aggressive one. Two weeks later, when she offhandedly and foolishly corrected him after he had mocked her over never using a NerveGear, things got worse. Admitting to testing a NerveGear to "see what it was like for the people connecting" had, in Kikuoka Seijirou's words, changed her image from "kowai to kawaii". This cutesy bullshit which the Japanese imposed on women was something Rebecca hated, but she knew almost instinctively that Seijirou's teasing was largely facetious. That said, he had helped her extensively in her cases and, for reasons she still didn't fully understand, he was both well versed in the English language and in American culture. She hated the nickname "Becky" with a passion and mourned the fact that he had become aware of this, but he was useful and had the desire to help her, so she could put up with it.
"Mr. Kikuoka, why'd you choose this place?" in English, now. Rebecca knew this song and dance all too well. The bar, filled to the brim with all things foreign, was a very pointed choice: they were meeting for the first time in ages not as two friends and peers, but as a gaijin and local. She could understand why he felt this was appropriate; this was their last appointment, after all.
"Because having a beautiful view complement such a stunning woman is a feast for my eyes, Ms. Reynolds." his English was perfect. Yet there was also a touch of insincerity injected into his tone, as if he were on stage, which Rebecca deeply appreciated. She wasn't fond of men who looked past her accomplishments and fixated themselves on her figure; thankfully, as outrageous as Seijirou could be, he was most definitely not that kind of man. The apathy and then hostility he had treated her with before finding out about her experiment with NerveGear was proof of that.
"I'm flattered, truly, but I think it's more pressing that you feast your eyes on this." She replied, taking a folder out of her handbag and placing it carefully on the glass table. A Report on US Citizen's Implicated in the SAO Crisis: The Case of Gary. J. Edwards.
"This kid again?" Seijirou raised his hand slightly, calling over a waiter. He suddenly looked fatigued.
"As you are well aware, this 'kid' was twenty-three upon entering the game."
"And twenty-three when he died. Jesus, I'm going to need a drink."
"At the very least we can agree on that much."
"Waiter, I'll have the soft shell crab and the 17 years Hibiki, please." the waiter nods slightly as he jots down Seijirou's order. "And you, dear Ms. Reynolds?" Seijirou turned to Rebecca, an expecting grin on his face. Two years of working together meant he knew her quite well: undoubtedly, he was waiting for her to order exactly what he expected from her: a Caipirinha and some form of Lobster. It's what she always did at up-scale bars like this one. Unfortunately for him, their extensive list of shared assignments meant that Rebecca was well aware that the Ministry of Internal Affairs only covered his "work-related" dining expenses up to a 'mediocre' ¥50,000 per month.
"I'll have the 30 year old Hibiki please. Oh, and honey," her tone was as sultry as it was venomous "doesn't the caviar for two look absolutely dreamy?" For the first, but by no means the last time that night, Seijirou could only grimace in response.
"So this is the final draft?"
"Yeah, needs some touching-up regarding formatting and proofreading, but this is pretty much it."
"Ms. Reynolds. If you don't mind me asking..."
"Go right ahead, Mr. Kikuoka."
"I'll trim the political details of the case, ok? Essentially, Gary J. Edwards was a twenty-three year old American hikkimori who had been living in Tokyo for two years by the time the SAO Beta was released. The only child of his substantially wealthy and well connected parents, he used the last of the money they sent him to pre-order a copy of the main game after participating in the Beta. Like the majority of those who were trapped in the death game, he logged in on the release date. "
"Yep."
"According to the Cardinal system, which could only record the time and location of player's deaths, he dies on the first day, two hours before Kayaba made his announcement and some distance from the Starting City."
"Correct."
"What makes his case more complicated is that, like six other players, Cardinal either recorded further activity or a 'second death' after the first one.. The cases of Kirigaya Kazuto, Yuuki Asuna, "Orange", and Hayashi Yuuko have been properly accounted for. Mr. Edwards, along with a young girl who played under the handle Sachi(サチ), remains unexplained, although in both cases their 'second instances' occurred as the game shut down."
"That's an incredibly shortened version if it, but yes."
"Ms. Reynolds, with all due respect there is no need for you to cut in."
"Sorry, carry on. It's funny though, I'm thinking 'if only Mr. Kikuoka were this serious all the time.'"
"I'm a hard worker when I get down to it. Now then..."
"Don't worry about me, I'll wait quietly and focus my attention on this lovely whisky you ordered for me. Ah, it's truly worth every yen of the 25,000 you paid for it."
"Ugh," he didn't enjoy being on the back foot, "My question, Ms. Reynolds, is why am I looking at the exact same report from the last time we met? Unless I'm mistaken then apart from a few tweaks in phrasing and formatting edits there is nothing new here. Moreover, I recall that we agreed that there's not much more we can do regarding this case. The few friends Gary had overseas obviously didn't enter the game, and as he went into SAO alone and died early using an avatar that was by no means modeled after his real body, no one was there to witness what happened to him. We can't even pin cause of death down."
"See, but that's what bothers me. I think looking at cause of death as something entirely within the context of SAO is the wrong approach in Mr. Edwards' case."
"Oh, do tell."
"Look, I know that a lot of the people in your department quite rightfully treat the 'American issue' as secondary. Four thousand people died and I've been endlessly pestering your department on the the case of a single player for the last year—so I understand your frustration— but this just doesn't make sense. I went to this guy's apartment and I saw his lifestyle: he practically lived for MMORPGs. We know he was a beta tester, so why the hell did he die so early?! His parents, estranged to him as they were, want to know too."
"For the family, eh. Fair enough, Ms. Reynolds, fair enough. But again, we have no way of—"
"Seijirou, please shut up for a minute. I'll be blunt: I'm giving you this report because I know why he died, and I need your input on whether I should include it or not."
"Isn't that obvious? This is supposed to be the most comprehensive report we can manage. So yes, of course."
"Hear me out on this one, please. It actually might not be wise. At least... not if it's for his family's sake."
There was, albeit briefly, a moment of strained silence between the two. The ensemble's music continued to float through the air, filling the void that the wordless stare-down had created. 5AM by Amber Run, a piece on the newer end of 'classics'. An odd choice for the New York Bar.
"...okay Ms. Reynolds. You have my undivided attention."
They would meet once every two weeks, usually on Saturdays. It was on the latest 'off week', as Seijirou sardonically labeled them, that Rebecca had made her discovery.
Wednesday, 21st of January, 2026. 14:25.
Rebecca Reynolds had finally hit a wall after years of unabated success as a diplomat. She had hid her fear when entering crack dens in Latin America to confirm that the correct "Del Nogal" had been captured, she had argued unflinchingly with presidents and ambassadors across the globe. She let nothing and no one stand in the way of her country. Her ambitious nature lead to bravery, and that bravery to success. From the moment she had graduated with her degree in International Relations from Columbia University she had joined the US diplomatic mission and made a name for herself in the international sphere; reaching the position of ambassador before retirement was a given. Japan, she was well aware, was supposed to be a stepping stone to further success: a few years in a new region to pad her already impressive resume.
Yet, for the first time in her career, she found herself unable to take a step forward. Before her stood the entrance to the "Candy Fruit Refresh Club" in Akihabara; in front of the door lay a sidewalk sign with three girls in maid outfits posing in ways that otakus would undoubtedly refer to as "moe", which Rebecca casually redefined as "ditsy". Her investigation of the other four Americans who had died in the SAO incident had inevitably drawn her to game cafes for interviews and information gathering from those who knew the victims, but the research she had done on this place made her well aware that this was on a entirely different level. Hand massages, head spas, paying maids to talk to you, EAR CLEANING; this was not ground Rebecca would have set a foot near if it not for work. She was here to find a player who used the handle "Placency", real name Mori Naoto. Although he hadn't been one of the ten thousand trapped in Sword Art Online, he had apparently been the leader of a guild in Monster Hunter Online 2 that Gary J. Edwards, or "GaSu" as he was known online, was a member of. All attempts to contact Naoto had ended in failure, and the only lead Seijirou could find on him was that he was a regular at this 'club'. So here she was, standing at the gates of the gamer and otaku pandering hell that was a maid and game cafe.
"Oh, fuck it!" she said it aloud to re-assure herself. It seemed this was enough of a verbal payment to Kharon, as she stepped unhindered through the doors of the cafe. It was surprisingly clean inside and to her relief she wasn't the only non-maid female on the premise. A seemingly normal looking couple was speaking to the receptionist, and Rebecca, ever the opportunist, took this chance to slip into line behind them without creating much of a fuss. This didn't last long, unfortunately, as the receptionist failed to hide her shock at the sight of the Reynolds once the couple headed off to one of the rooms. Tourists must have been relatively common, but a lone blonde donning a jacket and suit pants was probably more of a rarity here. Hell, a lone woman was probably more than enough to surprise them.
"Hello master. How can I assist you today?" the girl's English was good. The maid outfit probably was too, but Rebecca had always thought they looked ridiculous.
"I'm looking for a young man by the name of Mori Naoto, is he here today? He's a regular." she put the question forth in Japanese and pulled out the ID the VR Division had given her for her investigations. The maid's eyes brushed over the ID quickly and returned to Rebecca. Considering the type who came here she had likely dealt with investigators before. Her faked smile was unfailing, likely from hours of pandering to rich losers. The diplomat could respect that, hiding your thoughts was a useful talent.
"I'm sorry, but I don't believe a Mori Naoto comes here at all." the maid didn't seem to be lying.
"Ugh, that could only mean..." it was an uncomfortable thought, but Rebecca ventured forward confidently.
"Okay, what about someone who goes by 'Placency'?" at this, the maid's eyes widened ever so slightly in recognition.
"Ah, yes. We do have a young master by that name, he's in room three right now. Follow me please, master."
Although she had yet to meet him, Rebecca Reynolds had little doubt in her mind: she would deeply dislike Mori Naoto.
Her assessment, as it turns out, wasn't wrong. The world of diplomacy was to an extent dictated by first impressions, and the sight of a chubby, neck-bearded man-child having his hand massaged by a maid hadn't left the greatest of them on her.
"Excuse me master, someone from the VR Division of the Ministry of Internal Affairs is here to see you." the receptionist bowed to him as she introduced Rebecca. The diplomat didn't follow suit, this was one of the rare situations when being a foreign was to her benefit in Japan: if she didn't want to bow, she wouldn't.
"Tell her to go away, she'll cut into my time with Anna-chan. I've paid, you know." the boy grumbled in response. 'Anna-chan', the maid massaging his hands and being paid to talk to him, winked at Rebecca.
"I'll pay for however long our chat takes, but we're talking, now." at the sound of her voice, Mori Naoto turned around and let his jaw drop.
"Wow! if I had known it was such a hottie I would have agreed right away!" he fit Reynolds' definition of 'disgusting' to a T.
"You're creepy, kid." She spited him and then turned to the maids "If you don't mind, could you two leave the room for a bit? This is government business." The maids bowed to both her and Naoto, and then carefully shuffled out of the room.
"All alone with a spanking hot blonde! Must be my lucky day!" He lifted himself up, presumably to scoot over towards Reynolds. She wasn't having it, swiftly pulling our her phone and taking a picture of him before he could react. At this, Naoto froze. She knew from her brother that taking an unwanted picture of a degenerate in its natural habitat scared the creature like nothing else could.
"Mr. Mori Naoto. 21 years old. Birthday: 2nd of November. Currently living off his father's money, who thinks he is studying at Tokyo University for a degree in computer programming. Dropped out first semester and has been spending the money on frivolous actives such as gaming and, apparently, maid cafes." Rebecca rattled off the facts in a monotonic, bored fashion. At this, Naoto fell back down onto his backside, petrified.
"Oh, and would you look at that! Mori Hayato, your father's, LINE address. Let me just send him th—"
"Okay! Okay... I get it. I'll drop it. Normalfag bitch. What do you need me for?" it seemed he had the brains to surrender when the deck was stacked against him. Rebecca, satisfied, placed her phone back into her jacket pocket.
"I'm here to talk to you about a player who went by GaSu in Monster Hunter Online 2. He was in your guild."
"GaSu... Wait, you mean Gary? Why are you digging shit up on that loser?" the fact that Naoto knew his real name was a surprise. On top of that, the term he had used to describe him came dangerously close to being comedic irony.
"Talk about a pot calling the kettle black..." this guy irritated her far more than she expected. She could admit to herself quite happily that she would much, much rather deal with Seijirou. As annoying as he could be, the man had a smidgen of self-awareness.
"How was he, as a MMO player?" she decided to ignore the latter half of his comment. She was well aware of Gary's demeanor and lifestyle choices.
"Hmm... he spent a lot of time on his character creation and made his avatar into this huge, burly guy. Insisted on playing the tank role no matter what, even though he never used the Lance. Oh, right: a tank is—" his tone took a turn for the derogatory, as if he were explaining a simple concept to a child.
"I know what a tank is. Carry on." ice was gathering at the edges of her words. Mori did not seem to be impressed.
"Look at you, knowing what a tank is! Wow, what a 'gaymur gurl' we've got he—stop, stop, stop! I'll co-operate." it seemed reaching into the pocket where she had placed her phone was enough to get him to behave. Good to know. With an exasperated sigh, Naoto continued: "he was big, and I'm talking fucking annoyingly big, on roleplay. Never played the game just as a player, was always a character. Some strong dude, usually. We ended up kicking him out of the guild because he'd hit on the guys who were playing female characters, claiming that being popular with chicks was part of his RP. Dedicated player apart from that funky stuff." as interesting as this was to Ms. Reynolds, it didn't exactly hint at why he had died in the starting areas.
"Was there anything weird about how he played though, did he ever dive too hard in fights and die stupidly or anything like that?" she used some of the terminology she had picked up from speaking to the SAO survivors in the hopes it would jog his memory.
"Nah, he was a total loser IRL, but to his credit he tanked properly. I think I only saw him go down twice the entire time we played, and both those times it was because we had all fucked up."
"Hmm.."
"Oh, he did have this one weird shtick though. Every time he'd make a new character he'd go into the newbie area and get it killed. I remember when he did it for our guild's expansion into—"
"Wait! WHAT?! He would let himself die? Why?"
"Woah! Pipe the fuck down lady, or you'll scare my dear Anna-chan and the other girls. It's just a game and unlike in the third one, there's no real punishment for it in MHO2, so no biggie if he wanted to off himself at the start of every run. "
"...look, did he ever talk about why he did that? You have to concede that it's odd, isn't it?"
"Some shit about him being 'reborn inside the game's universe', part of his RP or whatever crap he was in to."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, kinda? Look, this was like four years ago now. My guild was fifty or sixty people and he was this one random loser, I didn't really pay much attention to him beyond what I've told you."
That...That's it!
"...thanks. You've been a lot of help." she threw a ¥10,000 bill at his feet and shot out of the room, hastily throwing a "arigatou" at the confused maids before bursting out onto the streets of Akihabara. It had started to rain hard since she had entered the shop, but she couldn't care less. She needed to get home, she needed to write about this. Everything made sense now. She snatched her phone out of her pockets as she ran to the station, dialing Melinda Edwards' number as she went. They could finally have closure.
She could tell her what happened! Her assignment was finally over! She loved this country but she was jubilant at the thought of leaving it: after struggling for three years, her job was done!
"...hello? Ms. Reynolds?" a tired voice on the other side of the line. Oh, god, she had forgotten about the time difference. It couldn't be past 2AM in Washington right now. Well, that didn't matter. She felt like a child again in her excitement, years of putting her head down while her friends partied University, years of strained smiles in diplomatic meetings, and this last year trying to crack his case. Tension was flowing out of her body, and she slowed down to catch her breath so she could give the kid's mother the full story.
"Oh, Jesus. Sorry for the late call. Look, it's about your son..."
"You have information on Gary?"
"Yeah, he..."
"He what? Practically committed suicide in the most unfortunate way possible? Is that what you were going to say, you fucking idiot?" the realization stopped her celebratory glee dead in its tracks. There was no way she could just offhandedly drop that on her.
"Ms. Reynolds, are you there? You trailed off."
"Ah, sorry. I need to verify a few things before I say anything conclusive. I can't apologize enough for calling at such a time. I'll get back to you two with the finalized report by the end of the month."
"Oh, thank God! We can't thank you enough for all your hard work, Becks."
"Yeah, Melinda. Thanks and once again sorry for forgetting that time-zones existed."
"Haha, it's fine, we're always glad to hear from you. Do make sure to come visit us the next time you're in the US."
"Of course, miss, I'd be honored."
"Until then! Sayonara, as they say!"
Rebecca breathed out slowly and, with great effort, managed a "Goodbye." There was a clicking sound as the call disconnected, and, just like that, the voice of Melinda Edwards, wife to the current Speaker of the House of Representatives, was thousands of miles away again. She had known Melinda for five years now, and although Gary had already left for Japan when they met, she had always spoken fondly of her "poor, misguided child". Her existence had been a fragile one since her son's death.
Telling her the truth directly would be bringing a sledgehammer crashing down onto an already cracked pane of glass. She didn't want to do it, but bitter truths were part of her job description.
Standing alone in the streets of Akihabara, head down and phone clutched tightly in her hands, Rebecca Reynolds was grateful to the rain.
Friday, 30th of January, 2026. 21:12
"Oh, wow." his reaction was unexpectedly plain.
"I give you the climax to what we've been investigating for a year, and your response is a 'huh'? You cannot be serious, Mr. Kikuoka."
"No, it's just... there's still a detail missing."
"What?"
"The whole 'second instance' thing that Cardinal picked up."
"You know as well as I do that the reason we've been digging on Gary for the last year is because his father is a prominent politician, not because of a glitch in the system. We've done it, Seijirou, the decision now comes down to whether we tell them what happened."
"Rebecca." he had never used her first name before and it caught her off guard. "How much credence do you think we can give to attempts that separate VR worlds like those of Sword Art Online and reality in their entirety?"
"I...I think just a few years ago, I would have probably said that former could not count as part of the latter— if that makes sense. But..."
"But?"
"We talked about this in regards to how the game ended, didn't we? That kid who you sent into Gun Gale Online, he surpassed the coded laws that the system set in place. So maybe the 'barrier' between those two is more fragile than I thought."
"I assume you've done your reading on «Yui-MHCP001»?"
"Of course. "
"It—" he caught himself, "—her existence confirmed that the game was able to measure and monitor the emotions of the players, which means, to an extent, they existed within Cardinal itself. Kirigaya Kazuto surviving hitting zero HP is, by Kayaba's own alleged admission, proof of that. Now, suppose this same arbitrary strength of emotions; willpower, let's call it, was applied to the other cases. "Orange" and Yuuki Asuna's cases can't have this attached to them due to the circumstances surrounding their 'deaths' being entirely different. But in the case of Hayashi Yuuko in particular her 'avatar' appeared long after she was confirmed dead, carrying her emotions with it. A being was essentially created within the virtual world as a byproduct of that woman's thoughts being stored in the system."
"So the second instance was a byproduct of Gary's willpower? He didn't seem the type to be that strongly driven towards anything."
"Eh, more like his desire. We know as a fact that he wanted desperately to be someone he wasn't. Perhaps Cardinal picked up on that and allowed some form of consciousness to stay in the system. It would also why his second "Death", along with that of "Sachis", happened in the exact same spot which Yuuki Asuna and Kirigaya Kazuto disconnected from the game. The Cardinal System logged them out last, after all."
"So when the Cardinal system crashed, he died for a second time."
"That's my guess."
A long pause. Rebecca's gears were turning and Seijirou fidgeted in his seat, waiting for her response.
"Well, then that's that part of the case closed."
"You believe me?"
"I don't have a better explanation, do I? C'mon, let's finish the food and drinks. For what it's worth: despite your awful attitude, it's been great working with you. I'll put in a good word for you at the embassy if you ever need help from them."
"I thought you wanted input on the report?"
"I do, but I never said your input would influence my decision in the slightest."
"Hah." that comment had stung, but he answered her properly: "Call them and tell them what happened, from there you can ask Mr. Edwards about what he wants you to do regarding the report."
"That was exactly my idea." it was simply the best option if she both wanted to keep a good relationship with the Edwards family and continue her career. "Thank you for dinner, Seijirou, the caviar was as fabulous as it was expensive."
"Before you go and I have my life expectancy halved when I look at the bill, I need to ask you one last thing."
"Shoot."
Uncharacteristically, he seemed to be having a hard time articulating it.
"There's nothing that irritates me more than when cocky men hesitate." she put it bluntly. Was this guy about to ask her out? She certainly hoped not, things would be awkward regardless of how she responded considering she was set to leave in a few weeks. She wasn't entirely sure how she would respond, at that.
"Do you think "Grisalda" —Hayashi Yuuko's— 'ghost' in the system had agency over itself?" Rebecca relief was followed by confusion.
"You mean... as in some form of consciousness?"
"Yes! Even if its perception of the 'reality' of Sword Art Online was different from what the survivors saw." He was dead serious.
"I can't be sure, and this is admittedly outside my area of expertise, but..." she found herself thinking about Gary: how he had lived, how he had died. Had his desire to be 'someone else' materialized into anything? "...I'd hope so. I hope she —or it— did." she was speaking for the case of Gary Edwards as much as for Yuuko.
"That's a suitable answer, I'm glad. Well then!" He clapped his hands together, seemingly satisfied, "I'll see you on Valentine's Day, Ms. Reynolds, and be sure to bring me chocolates."
"Eh?"
"What's wrong? I happen to ADORE dark chocolate if that's what has you concerned."
"Look," she was flabbergasted, "I'm not sure you understand, while I'd certainly be happy to keep communicating with you from overseas, my work here in Japan is done. I'm going to move on to my next assignment after this. Perhaps within the next week or two."
With a flourish, Seijirou pulled a folder out of his winter jacket and smacked it down onto the table beside the empty glasses and plates which the two had wiped clean. In bold text it read "プロジェクト・アリシゼーション" and under it, in English:
PROJECT ALICIZATION.
"If you open this folder your next assignment will undoubtedly be in Japan. It's your call, Ms. Reynolds."
She eyed the folder with caution. "This isn't some trivial bullshit you're dragging me into, I hope."
"On the contrary, this is the most important development of our era. Debatably, in history. And I'd like you to be our sole line of communication to the United States in this matter."
Ms. Reynolds was not the type to let curiosity get the better of her. However, she was also not the type to back away from a challenge. The idea of being the United States' foremost diplomat in any truly important matter was too enticing to ignore. She reached a delicate finger down to corner of the report and carefully opened it.
She read only three lines before her eyes darted back at Kikuoka Seijirou, who was holding his chin up with his hands, his thick-rimmed glasses and frown doing a foul job of hiding his excitement.
He wasn't lying. This was far above the reach of mere international relations.
"You trust me enough to show me this?"
"I've always had a soft spot for pretty women. The fact that you are both intelligent and—for an American, reasonable—also helps."
This was the biggest decision she'd make in her life. She knew that now.
Why hesitate now?
"See you in two weeks, Mr. Kikuoka."
"Likewise, Ms. Reynolds." he couldn't help but smile.
For an undertaking of this scale and importance, Rebecca Reynolds was prepared to put up with Kikuoka Seijirou.
It seems she'd have to do some reading on giri-chocolate when she got home.
The End.
A/N: Finally finished this. I'd love to say "now time for Living Orange!" and churn out another 6,000 words tomorrow, but goddamn did I forget how tiring writing is. Hope you enjoyed the story and the final chapter which contained absolutely ZERO humor and will probably make very little sense to anyone who doesn't know about the Alicization Arc! Hype! Annoying Fan (who isn't annoying in the slightest and should make an account so I can actually communicate with him) was right on the mark on his assessment that Gary's journey ended long, long before the clearing of Sword Art Online. If you didn't get that from this chapter, then well I'm sorry! I clearly fucked it up lads! Have a great one everyone and remember, if you're reading a FF for ANY franchise and the original character is starting feel distinctly and unironically like the protagonist of this sad tale, drop that shit harder than the bass. There's better stuff to read out there! Like Living Orange(not at all really in its current state and I haven't updated it in years! YAYYY!).
Cheers everyone, despite the setbacks I had a lot of fun writing this. Thank you Harrowed for being my editing slave. Time to actually log into my FF account and see if I have any hatemail for being the world's least prolific writer.