A/N: I've read a few SAO fics in my time but upon making this, I wanted to make something niche... something that maybe other people haven't done before, something a little fun but with the end goal being harem of course. This story was initially meant for myself to read as it was purely a concept but I found it was rather entertaining to read so I thought I'd share it with the fandom, if you don't like it fair enough lol
This story isn't your typical SAO story and it will be mostly FOCUSED on the comedic and romantic side of SAO so if your interested please read, I haven't figured out if I want to add lemons in yet, probably yes, slight chance that it wont happen. let me know what you think! :) By the puppet is a representation on how I and some other fans of SAO think sometimes when Kirito is a dumbass!
The Puppet Made Me Do It!
The sky had just stopped crying, but the streets still shimmered like liquid glass. Rain pooled in the cracks of the old pavement, gathering at the corners of sidewalks, swirling with the colours of oil and dying daylight. Kazuto Kirigaya stepped around a puddle with practiced ease, his black hoodie pulled up over his head, earbuds snug, hands in his pockets.
A soft chill lingered in the air, the kind that makes your breath fog just a little, even though it's technically still spring. The clouds overhead were beginning to part, but they moved slow, like someone was dragging them reluctantly off-stage.
His music was low. Lo-fi beats, mellow. A soft escape.
This was supposed to be his quiet walk home after helping Yui set up a VR display downtown. Nothing fancy. Nothing dramatic. Just him, a quiet street, the smell of fresh rain, and an evening where nobody needed saving for once.
And yet… something didn't feel right.
Not bad, exactly. But off, or at least that's what he thought.
Like something was waiting for him around the corner.
'Maybe I just need sleep.' he thought again, tugging his hood lower.
He turned down a residential street, not quite a shortcut, but familiar. Rows of houses with flowerbeds and tidy fences, the kind of place that always smelled like cut grass and nostalgia.
That's when he heard it.
A voice. Soft. Young.
"Mister…"
He stopped.
The music still played in his left ear, but his right picked up that unmistakable sound, like a child calling out across a playground.
Kazuto or Kirito as he goes by in game, pulled out his earbud and turned.
She was standing under a flickering streetlamp about fifteen feet ahead of him. Small frame, yellow raincoat, white shoes soaked from the wet concrete. The hood covered most of her face, but he could see a single braid hanging out one side.
She looked like she stepped out of an old storybook.
Out of place. Too still.
"You, okay?" he asked, brows pinched slightly.
She nodded once, then lifted her arm and pointed toward a hedge by the edge of the park across the street.
"I dropped something. It's my puppet," she said. "He doesn't like being left alone."
Kazuto blinked. Her voice was clear. Soft. Way too calm for a kid out on her own in the middle of the evening.
"You live around here?" he asked, but she didn't answer. Just kept pointing.
Kazuto scratched the back of his neck. His instincts were quietly yelling, but the years spent being the guy who helps people pushed him forward.
"Alright. I'll get it."
He walked across the street slowly, sneakers splashing in a puddle as he stepped onto the grass. The bushes rustled with the breeze. He crouched, squinting.
Sure enough of course, nestled just beneath the leaves was something odd.
A puppet.
A small, ragged thing, gray fur, worn soft from years of handling. It wore crooked plastic sunglasses and a tiny headset mic, and around its neck hung a chain of twisted soda tabs like makeshift bling.
Kazuto tilted his head.
"...What the hell?"
He reached in and picked it up. It was damp, but oddly warm. Heavy for a puppet. He turned back toward the street—
The girl was gone.
No footsteps. No movement. No rustling of a coat or squeak of shoes against pavement.
Just gone.
The street was silent.
Even the streetlamp above her now flickered once… then stayed dark.
Kazuto's pulse kicked up slightly.
"Hey—!" he called. "Little girl?"
Nothing. No answer. No distant figure. No doors swinging shut. No parents frantically looking. The air was completely still, like the world had hit pause.
A drop of water slid down the puppet's forehead and onto his wrist. Kirito looked down at it again.
"...You're cursed, aren't you?" he muttered.
And that's when it moved.
Its head tilted.
Not a twitch. Not a trick of his eyes. The puppet's head tilted slowly, as if inspecting him.
Kazuto dropped it.
It hit the wet grass with a soft thud! And immediately sat upright.
Its mouth opened.
"Took you long enough, Romeo," it said in a gravelly, smug voice with the cadence of a cartoon villain and the ego of a retired hype man.
Kazuto took two steps back.
"WHAT the—?!"
The puppet stretched one paw dramatically, rotating its stubby arm like it had a shoulder to crack.
"My joints are stiff. You left me in the bush for hours. You know what kind of bugs live out there? The kind that doesn't pay rent, that's what."
"This...this isn't happening," Kazuto muttered, eyes wide. "You're a puppet. You're a talking puppet. That's...no. Nope."
"I'm your salvation, dummy," it said. "Your second chance. Your redemption arc. Your late-stage character development."
Kazuto blinked. "What?"
"I'm your goddamn wingman."
"...I'm leaving."
"You're not," the puppet said. "You picked me up. You're stuck with me now. Destiny, baby. Destiny and unlocked rizz stats."
Kazuto groaned internally as he closed his eyes.
"I already had a weird week. Now I'm hallucinating a street puppet with a superiority complex."
"You're not hallucinating. You're evolving."
The puppet climbed onto Kazuto's arm like a raccoon clinging to a tree.
"Look at your life," it said. "You've got many smoke-show women orbiting your moody anime boy energy, and you're out here acting like the virgin protagonist."
"I'm not trying to—"
"Exactly!" the puppet shouted, pointing a fuzzy finger at his chest. "You're not even trying. You're just letting them come to you. That's not charisma. That's passive plot mechanics."
Kazuto gritted his teeth.
"Okay, fine. Let's say you're real. What now? You going to teach me to be some kind of playboy?"
"Nah," the puppet grinned. "I'm going to help you stop being basic."
"...This is Klein's fault, somehow."
"Blame who you want. But if you want the girls? If you want fire? Passion? Chaos?" The puppet spread its stubby arms wide. "Then let the puppet play, baby."
Kazuto stared at it, rain beginning to fall again in slow, fat drops, he couldn't help but let out a sigh as he closed his eyes.
He should leave it.
He should call a priest... No he should defintely call a priest.
He should walk home and forget this ever happened.
Instead, he sighed… and stuffed the puppet under his arm.
"...If I get slapped by Asuna over this, I'm burning you."
"Fair. But if you don't get slapped?" The puppet smirked. "You're welcome."
Kazuto really wished he had thrown away the stupid puppet...
The elevator ride up to Kazuto's apartment was quiet…
…for about three seconds.
Then the puppet whistled low, swivelling in Kazuto's grip to stare at their reflection in the mirrored wall like it was judging them both. Probably was.
"Damn, bro. You ever look at yourself and think, 'Why am I wasting all this dark-haired, brooding, sword-wielding potential just standing around like a crash test simp?'"
Kazuto shot it a tired, flat look in the reflection, hoodie still half-damp from the rain.
"Do you ever stop talking?"
"Nope," the puppet said proudly, popping the "p." "I'm the voice of your inner chaos, and she's been locked in the basement of your personality for way too long."
"You're a sock."
"Correction: I'm a manifestation of years of suppressed romantic tension and wasted potential. I'm the pent-up charisma you keep shoving behind polite nods and awkward silences. I'm the hero your love life deserves."
"You're still a sock."
"And you're still single. Coincidence? I think not."
The elevator dinged before Kazuto could formulate a comeback worth more than a muttered swear.
He stepped out, trying to keep his head down in case one of his neighbours saw him carrying a talking puppet like a man having a breakdown in real time. He made it to his apartment, unlocked the door, and nudged it open with one shoulder, still holding the puppet awkwardly under his arm like it was a fuzzy crime scene exhibit.
Lights on.
Warm. Familiar.
His apartment was modest of course, functional furniture, tidy enough, but lived in. There were hints of him everywhere: an ALO themed keychain on the counter, a shelf of rare VRMMO gear tucked beside a dusty katana replica, and Yui's glowing dev kit humming quietly in the corner.
Kazuto tossed the puppet onto the couch like it was cursed! And to be fair, it probably was.
"Alright. You're home. You happy?"
The puppet flopped back like a dramatic diva; one leg bent over the couch arm.
"Not until you are, Romeo."
Kazuto kicked off his shoes and dragged himself to the fridge. He grabbed a can of melon soda, popped it open, and took a long sip.
The puppet rolled onto its side, sunglasses slightly askew.
"You live in a literal bachelor pad, and you've got girls built like anime dreams knocking on your metaphorical door. And what do you do? You nod politely. You make tea. You log out early."
"That's called being respectful."
"That's called being basic."
Kazuto rubbed his temples with one hand.
"Okay, let's say for argument's sake, I want to hear what insanity you're about to pitch me. What's the plan, puppet?"
The puppet sat up straight like a drill sergeant called to attention.
"Step one: Confidence. Step two: Presence. Step three: Make them feel something. Compliment. Tease. Eye contact. A little mystery, a little danger. I feed you the lines. You deliver."
"Like a cursed ventriloquist act."
"Like the anime glow up arc we all deserved five seasons ago. Except now you've got me as your internal monologue... with a mouth."
It hopped down from the couch, tiny felt legs pattering against the hardwood floor like an overconfident sock gremlin.
"Tomorrow. You're going to visit Lisbeth, Rika or whatever you call her. Casual. Friendly. Just to 'check in.' And when she leans over that forge and you get a full view of thighs and heat? You don't look away like a coward."
Kazuto blinked.
"You want me to... stare at her?"
"Respectfully. Strategically. A three-second linger that says: I see you. I respect you. But also... damn."
"This is insane."
"This is chemistry. Something you haven't had since the 'accidental cuddle in Aincrad' arc."
The puppet scampered up onto the kitchen counter like it owned the place and pointed a stubby paw.
"Then follow it with a cheeky line. Like— 'Careful, Rika baby. You're hot enough to melt steel, and I'm not just talking about the forge.'"
Kazuto groaned, sinking into the couch like he was trying to merge with it.
"There is no way I'm saying that."
"You will when she bites her lip."
He stared at the ceiling. There was a crack in the plaster he'd never noticed before. He focused on it like it could explain how he'd gone from elite VR swordsman to receiving romantic coaching from a sentient Muppet with unresolved issues.
"You're afraid of your own potential," the puppet continued, climbing up onto the coffee table and crossing its arms like a disapproving teacher. "You've got a harem lined up like it's a dating sim, and you're out here giving 'awkward tutorial NPC.' Stop it. Stop giving 'I fell into your boobs and said sorry for existing.' Start giving 'I dual-wield hearts.'"
Kazuto didn't answer immediately. His brain was spiralling. And the worst part?
Somewhere deep in the back of his mind, some tiny, idiotic part of him was curious.
Because Rika did look at him sometimes like she wanted to say something and didn't. Asuna had been acting... distant lately. Sinon lingered just a little longer in every conversation. And Leafa? Her smiles didn't always feel like family.
"...What happens if this goes horribly wrong?"
The puppet lay back on the table, folding its fuzzy arms behind its head.
"Then we go down in flames. But at least we do it in style."
Kazuto stared at it for a long, quiet moment.
Then he drained the last of his melon soda and said:
"You're going to get me punched."
"You're welcome."
Kazuto stood up, stretched, and instantly regretted it.
"Alright," he muttered. "I'll go tomorrow. Just to talk. Casual."
The puppet clapped its tiny paws together like an overexcited manager backstage at a boy band debut.
"Yes! Let's get this man laid—er, emotionally empowered."
Kazuto narrowed his eyes.
"Yeah, no. Boundaries. This is strictly charisma bootcamp. PG-13. Keep it in your felt pants."
"Oh please." the puppet rolled its head, "if I had pants, they'd be legendary tier. 10 to confidence and 50 to charm."
Kazuto crossed the room and opened a cupboard. Inside: a sad lineup of instant noodles, protein bars, and a single half-eaten chocolate bar that had seen better days.
The puppet jumped up beside him.
"This pantry is why you're single."
"This pantry is why I'm alive," Kazuto shot back. "You ever tried cooking after logging 40 hours in GGO PvP?"
The puppet sniffed the protein bar.
"Bro, even the calories gave up on this one."
Kazuto sighed and pulled one out anyway. He bit into it with the defeated crunch of a man who hadn't grocery shopped in two weeks and wasn't about to start now.
The puppet slid back to the edge of the counter and gave him a very serious look.
"Okay. Listen to me. Before we deploy the 'Rika Shinozaki Fluster Protocol' tomorrow, we need to calibrate your energy."
"Calibrate?"
"Test drive the new you. Try some low-level flirting. Just to stretch the muscles."
Kazuto gave him a look.
"With who? I'm not texting Asuna 'hey girl, you're hotter than my GPU.' I want to survive to see tomorrow."
"No, no, no. You test on low-risk targets. Practice dummies. People who won't punch you."
"Like who?"
"The pizza delivery girl. The next-door grandma. Hell, flirt with your fridge. You just need to loosen up."
"I'm not hitting on the elderly and my kitchen appliances."
"Fine." the puppet pouted. "But if that toaster gives you bedroom eyes, don't say I didn't warn you."
Kazuto turned back toward the couch and flopped down again. He stared at the ceiling for a long, long beat.
"This is the dumbest thing I've ever done."
"You fought a floor boss with 12 HP left and no healing items. You almost married a girl inside a digital death trap. This? This is tame."
"That was different. That was heroic."
"This is heroic. For your love life."
The puppet leapt down and paced the coffee table like a TED Talk speaker on Adderall.
"Look, this isn't about seduction. It's about liberation. You've got too many repressed feelings, too many almost-moments. We're breaking the chains, Kazuto. We're unlocking your potential."
Kazuto raised a brow.
"...With compliments about thighs."
"Strategically deployed compliments about thighs."
The puppet stopped pacing and struck a dramatic pose.
"You're not just hitting on Rika. You're giving her the moment she's been waiting for. The realization arc. The spark that makes her rethink everything she thought she knew about you."
"You make it sound like I'm seducing the Avengers."
"Bro, these girls are the Avengers. Asuna's Captain America, Rika's Iron Man, Sinon's the sniper from a spin-off movie, and Leafa's the little sister who's lowkey a tank."
Kazuto blinked.
"...Okay, that's not bad."
"Right? Now you, you're like, the emotionally constipated Spider-Man who needs to stop apologizing and start web-slinging."
"You're mixing metaphors."
"I'm mixing success, baby."
Kazuto couldn't help it, he laughed. Just a little. It came out in one of those exhausted snorts, the kind that slips out against your will.
The puppet froze, one fuzzy arm halfway through a karate chop.
"Wait. Was that... laughter?"
"Don't push it."
"Was that a chuckle of hope?"
"It was a laugh of 'what the hell is happening to my life.'"
"It's happening, people!" the puppet shouted, spinning in place. "He's cracking! The broody facade is crumbling!"
Kazuto chucked the empty soda can at it. The puppet dodged with an acrobatic flop and rolled behind a couch cushion like a plushie action hero.
Silence fell for a beat. Kazuto leaned back again.
"...You really think she'll react?"
The puppet popped its head up like a gopher.
"Rika? Bro. That girl has been one eyebrow raise away from kissing you since season one. You give her a real look? A real line?"
It grinned.
"She might just kiss you."
Kazuto stared at him with an unimpressed expression plastered across his face.
"And what if she punches me instead?"
The puppet winked.
"Then we flirt harder."
Kazuto let the puppet's last words hang in the air like a landmine he didn't want to step on.
"She defintely will kiss you."
'Or she might weld me into a sword and sell me on Etsy.' Kazuto thought.
He rubbed his eyes and muttered, "You're unreal."
The puppet clapped its fuzzy hands and jumped off the coffee table with surprising grace.
"Alright, Romeo. We've locked in Rika as Target Alpha. Time to plot the full campaign. Operation: Bed 'Em All! uh, I mean, Win Their Hearts and Possibly Their Pyjama Time."
Kazuto groaned like a man physically in pain.
"We agreed on PG-13."
"PG-13 in public. Privately, we manifest results."
Kazuto stared blankly at the ceiling.
"No. You don't get to say things like 'manifest results' like this is some kind of dating sim endgame."
"This is your dating sim endgame. You've been stuck in limbo for a while. It's time to start picking dialogue options that lead somewhere... horizontal."
Kazuto rolled onto his side, shoving a pillow over his head.
"I'm not listening to this."
The puppet, undeterred, dragged a notebook off the coffee table, one of Yui's from her project log, and flipped it open like a general preparing a war map.
"Okay, let's break this down by target."
"Stop calling them targets."
"You're right. 'Potential lovers' has a softer ring."
Kazuto mumbled something into the pillow that might've been a curse. The puppet continued anyway.
"Asuna. The queen. The standard. You've got the most history with her, but you've been in emotional maintenance mode for, like, years. Too comfortable. We got to bring back the heat."
"We don't need heat," Kazuto grumbled. "We're fine."
"Bro, the last time you flirted with her was by offering her a healing crystal and apologizing for existing."
Kazuto peeled back the pillow just far enough to glare.
"It was a support item."
"It was a support cry for help." The puppet underlined something furiously with a crayon. "Tomorrow night, you text her this: 'Remember the Aincrad inn? I still think about that night sometimes.' Boom. Emotional throwback. Bedroom subtext. Tears and kisses incoming."
Kazuto sat up halfway, looking physically betrayed.
"That sounds like I'm emotionally manipulating her!"
"No, it sounds like you finally remembered she's into you! We're just stirring the soup."
Kazuto blinked. "...What soup?"
The puppet ignored him.
"Sinon. Ice queen. Dead shot. Secret softie. She likes confidence, controlled, unshakeable energy. Next time she makes one of those sarcastic remarks? You lean in, smirk, and say, 'You keep teasing me like that, Shino. Starting to think you want my attention.'"
Kazuto's jaw dropped slightly, just the thought of him saying that made him cringe internally.
"She'd shoot me."
"With affection."
"With a gun."
"Semantics."
The puppet flipped to another page, now covered in surprisingly neat doodles of the girls' faces labelled with "fire." and "wet" emojis.
"Leafa. The wildcard. Sweet. Loyal. Absolutely not just a little sister."
Kazuto froze, he wanted to interject to make it a point to call her by her real name but decided against it.
"Don't. Start."
"Listen, I didn't write the accidental VR-sibling-lust plotline, I'm just saying: she's always looked at you like you hung the moon. Maybe try... looking back."
"I do look at her."
"Like a brother. Look at her like a man who's seen thighs in motion."
Kazuto grabbed the pillow again.
"I'm going to choke you with this pillow."
"You say that." the puppet said, hopping back onto the table, "but tomorrow you'll be whispering 'you look cute when you're flustered' into someone's ear, and you'll thank me."
Kazuto stared at him for a long moment.
Then looked back at the ceiling.
"You're insane."
"I'm free. You? You're still living in emotional jail. Maximum security. Life sentence for Crimes Against Rizz."
Kazuto couldn't even respond. He closed his eyes, trying to tune it out. Mentally retreating. Thinking about sword combos. Health potions. Anything else.
"La la la, not listening," he mumbled aloud, purely to drown it out.
But the puppet kept talking. Always talking.
"Oh, don't worry. We'll start small. Flirt light. Smile more. Maybe touch her wrist when you hand her something. Then boom! Domino effect. Shirtless sparring session. Accidentally tumble on top of her. Classic anime tension. Eyes meet. She blushes. You don't move. Then you lean in..."
"STOP!" Kazuto shouted, sitting up so fast the pillow launched off the couch.
The puppet raised both fuzzy hands in mock surrender.
"Sheesh, relax. I was just getting to the post-confession snuggle loop."
Kazuto collapsed again, the young man couldn't help but sulk into his pillow as he questioned his life choices up until now.
"I hate this timeline."
"You love it. You just don't know it yet."
{Scene Change}
The next day.
The sun was out, the streets were dry, and Kazuto was filled with dread.
Not the usual kind of dread, like "you're about to fight a boss with a rage phase."
No, this was the special, what-the-hell-am-I-doing-walking-into-this- kind. The kind that came with the knowledge that today, he wasn't visiting a blacksmith friend.
He was visiting Target Alpha.
Rika Shinozaki. The flame haired, hammer wielding, sarcasm spitting blacksmith who could probably break his kneecaps and then forge a katana out of the pieces. And for some reason… He was about to flirt with her.
Because a puppet told him to... Yep, this is where Kazuto really was now.
'This is my life now...'
He thought grimly as he approached the small workshop tucked between two cafés on a quiet street.
The bell above the door jingled as he stepped inside.
The air hit him instantly: hot, metallic, thick with the smell of molten ore and sweat. A glowing forge roared at the far wall, and over it stood Rika! Her tank top soaked with effort, hair pulled up, goggles sitting in a messy halo on her head. Her hammer came down with a rhythmic, almost hypnotic clang.
'She looks good.' Kazuto thought before he could stop himself.
"Better than good..." the puppet whispered from inside his coat pocket. "She looks like a snack AND the main course. Engage target. Initiate casual entry." The puppet spoke
Kazuto cleared his throat.
Rika turned, surprised, and then broke into a smile.
"Well, well. Kazuto, out in the sun before noon? Did the servers go down?"
"She's bantering. She's relaxed. GO." the puppet hissed.
Kazuto managed a crooked smile and stepped closer, hands in his pockets.
"Thought I'd stop by. See what you're working on."
"A commission for some ALO try hard who wants a dual element blade. Keeps calling me 'milady' in DMs. I'm this close to forging it wrong out of spite."
"Sounds like you're his type," Kazuto said smoothly, "but I don't blame him. Must be hard concentrating around here with someone looking like you."
The hammer missed the anvil by about three inches.
Rika blinked.
"Excuse me?"
Kazuto took a breath, ignored every single warning bell in his brain, and walked to the edge of the workbench.
"You're hotter than your forge. I'm just calling it like I see it."
There was a clank as Rika gently...very gently, set the hammer down on the table. Silence lingered in the air for a brief while, movement stopped between the two.
She then walked over slowly, wiping her hands on a rag, expression unreadable.
"Okay." Her voice was cautious. "What the hell is this?"
Kazuto shrugged. "Just figured it's about time someone told you."
Rika narrowed her eyes. Unable to fathom what her friend had just said, she wondered if she was talking to the real Kazuto, her breath was caught in her throat temporarily.
"Since when do you say stuff like that?"
"Since I started meaning it."
That... was smooth. Even he was surprised.
"THAT'S MY BOY!" the puppet screamed in his pocket, muffled but enthusiastic.
Rika stopped in front of him; arms crossed over her chest. She looked him up and down like he was a suspicious looking customer, Kazuto put up an unreadable fortress of an expression as he looked over at her.
"Did Klein put you up to this? Is this some weird bet?"
"No bet."
"Did Yui program you with romance dialogue trees again?"
"I'd be using way worse lines if that were the case."
Debatable, the puppet muttered.
Rika squinted at him like she was trying to detect Photoshop on his face. She couldn't believe what she was hearing from who she was hearing it from.
"You're not usually this bold."
"Maybe I got tired of waiting."
Her mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again. Unable to speak she let out a small gulp.
And then, the unthinkable happened.
She blushed.
Not full tomato red of course. Just a light, unmistakable flush creeping into her cheeks. Her lips twitched like she wanted to smirk but didn't trust her face to stay cool.
"...Okay," she said, folding her arms a little tighter. "That one was decent."
"Just decent?"
"You're going to have to work harder than that to impress me."
Kazuto smiled. Hidden behind the smile was a faltering teenager regretting his actions.
"Good. I've got time."
"OH MY GOD, YOU'RE COOKING." the puppet screamed internally.
Rika turned on her heel and marched back to the forge.
"Try that again and I'm charging you double next time you break a sword."
"If you smile like that again, I'll break one on purpose."
Rika whipped around, eyes wide. Kazuto just raised an eyebrow and gave her his best innocent look. Kazuto tried his best to remain calm and composed, inside he felt as if he was crumbling like a biscuit in a cup of tea.
She pointed the hammer at him.
"Okay. Now I know something's wrong with you."
"Maybe," Kazuto said, shrugging. "But it's kind of fun."
Rika arched an eyebrow, hammer still raised like it could double as a lie detector.
"Seriously. What's going on with you?"
Kazuto shrugged again, trying to look chill.
Internally, he was combusting.
'What am I doing?! WHY am I following this damn puppet's instructions? She's going to throw me into the forge. I'm going to die in a puddle of my own awkwardness and melted ego.'
"Deep breaths my friend... deep breaths..." the puppet whispered like a cult leader in his pocket.
"Now hit her with a curveball. Something bold. Something spicy. Something that says: "I notice you. Not just your stats. But those curves in that tank top too." The puppet said, Kazuto let out a gulp.
Absolutely not, Kazuto thought back.
"DO IT, COWARD."
Kazuto gave Lisbeth a small, dangerous smile.
"Maybe I'm just seeing you differently these days."
She blinked. "Differently?"
"Yeah. Like… how you bite your lip when you're hammering. Or how your goggles always leave that little red mark on your forehead. Kind of cute, actually."
Rika's face did something strange like it couldn't decide between blushing harder or entering Fight Mode. She turned away fast, back to her anvil.
"You're insane."
"She didn't say no!" the puppet hissed triumphantly. "She pivoted. That's emotional dodgeball for 'I'm flustered but don't want to show it.' You've got her. Keep going. Go subtle. Go sweet."
Kazuto took a few slow steps closer.
"It's not a bad thing, you know. Being noticed."
She started hammering again, but way off rhythm now. Like her mind was somewhere else entirely.
"You're really pushing your luck, Kazuto."
"Push harder!" the puppet said. "Risk the TKO. Say something she'll think about at night." His partner insisted.
Kazuto's throat felt dry.
'Oh, screw it, we're here now...' Kazuto couldn't help but think.
"...I think I've been noticing a lot about you. Stuff I didn't let myself think about before."
The hammer paused.
"Direct hit. Shield break. She's down to 30% composure. FINISH HER!" the puppet shouted like a fighting game announcer.
Rika set the hammer down again and turned back toward him. Her arms were crossed again, but this time... it felt more like she was holding herself together than pushing him away.
"Like what?" she asked, voice quieter. A little rougher. "What kind of stuff?"
Kazuto blinked.
'NOPE. TOO FAR. ABORT. I'M NOT EQUIPPED FOR THIS.' Kirito thought
His brain kicked into emergency override. His mouth moved before he could stop it.
"Like how you always smell like metal and fire and... somehow that's really kind of hot?"
'WHAT DID I JUST SAY?!'
Rika's eyes widened. Her mouth opened, no words. Then a sound that was somewhere between a scoff and a laugh escaped her throat.
"You're unbelievable."
Kazuto leaned back, smirking now, not because he was confident, but because if he didn't, he was going to pass out, he knew himself he had to mask it.
"Not denying it."
She walked right up to him again, close enough that he could feel the warmth from the forge still clinging to her skin. Her expression was half challenge, half smirk.
"Okay, Mr. Confidence Build. You really want to impress me?"
Kazuto swallowed. "That's the idea."
She tilted her head. "Then help me lift that crate of steel ingots over there without pulling something."
Kazuto blinked. "...Wait, that's it?"
"BRO, THIS IS A SIDE QUEST." the puppet whispered. "ACCEPT. LIFT. DOMINATE. FLEX THOSE BICEPS LIKE A CHAD." The puppet ushered him on.
"Deal," Kazuto said aloud, before he could think better of it.
He marched over, grabbed the crate, and—
'OhgodwhyisthisheavierthanIremember!'
He managed to hoist it without looking like a total idiot, which, honestly, was a personal win. Rika watched him, arms folded, one brow raised. He was relieved he managed to grab the crate otherwise he would look more of an idiot than he already was.
"Hm. Not bad."
"So... I passed?"
She smirked. "You passed phase one."
"There's a phase two?"
"If you survive phase one, yeah."
Kazuto felt something tighten in his chest. This was going way too well.
"Because you're finally playing to win, buddy!" the puppet whispered, sounding almost emotional. "I'm so proud I could cry... if I had tear ducts." The puppet said.
Rika turned back to her forge, lifting the hammer again. "You sticking around?"
Kazuto hesitated.
"SAY YES. SIT ON THE WORKBENCH. WATCH HER WORK. PULL A 'CAN I BORROW YOUR RAG' AND WIPE HER FACE. I SWEAR TO KAMI-SAMA IF YOU MESS THIS UP—" The puppet raged on.
"Yeah," Kazuto said softly. "I'll stay."
And he did.
He sat there in the heat and glow of the forge, watching her work, casually tossing in comments, stealing little glances, and occasionally...
Catching her glancing back.
The forge crackled louder now, the air hot enough to toast a marshmallow midair. Kirito sat on the edge of the workbench, watching Rika work, and every now and then, she looked back.
They were dancing. Not literally. But every shared glance felt like a step closer to something.
She wiped her brow with the hem of her tank top, just a little. Kazuto's brain stuttered. The puppet in his coat pocket gasped.
"Bro… bro… she's showing midriff. Do you know what that means?"
'Danger?' Kazuto thought weakly.
It means the time is nigh. "THE WINDOW IS OPEN. I REPEAT: THE WINDOW. IS. OPEN."
Kazuto swallowed. His heart was thumping way harder than it had any right to.
He stood up.
"Want help with anything?" he offered, voice calmer than he felt.
Rika arched an eyebrow. "Since when do you offer to help in the forge?"
"Since now."
"SMOOTH. GO IN. STAND BEHIND HER. TOUCH HER SHOULDER. WHISPER SOMETHING. I DON'T CARE WHAT. JUST WHISPER."
Kazuto walked up beside her, close enough to feel the heat of the forge, and her.
She handed him a pair of tongs. "Here. Hold this piece steady."
Their fingers brushed again. She didn't move away this time.
"YESSSSSSS."
Kazuto adjusted the tongs, his hand next to hers, close enough their knuckles nearly touched again. Their shoulders brushed. Her breath hitched.
She glanced sideways at him. "You're getting cocky."
He tilted his head just slightly.
"Only because I think I'm getting somewhere."
Rika stared at him, and for the first time… she didn't reply.
Just stared.
And that's when the puppet screamed:
"SEND IT! KISS HER. NOW. JUST FREAKIN' GO FOR IT. IF YOU HESITATE, YOU'RE DEAD TO ME."
'Oh god oh no oh no oh NO!' Kazuto's brain spiralled as his body leaned in,just slightly, barely an inch...and his eyes met hers full on.
She froze. Eyes wide.
Time stretched.
His hand was halfway to brushing a strand of hair from her face—
And then—
WHAM.
Pain exploded in his shin as Rika kicked him—not super hard, but enough to make him yell and hop backward like a startled cat.
"OW—LIZ?!"
Her face was scarlet. Not pink. Not blushing. Scarlet.
"I—YOU—WHAT THE HELL, KIRITO?!"
He opened his mouth. Nothing came out.
Rika backed up, face in her hands, stammering.
"I wasn't—I mean—you were—and then you—!"
Kazuto blinked.
She screamed wordlessly and then did a complete 180 degree turn and bolted out of the forge, leaving only a lingering scent of heat, metal, and complete romantic disaster.
The door slammed behind her with a clang.
Silence.
Long, brutal silence.
Kazuto looked down at his shin, still wincing.
"…What just happened?"
The puppet poked his fuzzy head out of the pocket, sunglasses slightly askew.
"…Okay. Not the result I expected. But I respect the drama."
Kazuto stared.
"You said kiss her."
"I didn't say get kicked in the soul," the puppet replied, patting his leg. "Still. Gotta hand it to you...You sent it."
Kazuto groaned. "I think she dislocated my pride."
The puppet hopped down to the bench and struck a proud pose.
"Let it be known we have achieved phase one Fluster break. She cracked. She blushed. She ran. That's progress, baby." The puppet cackled.
"She kicked me!"
"She kicked you because she FELT SOMETHING." The puppet pointed dramatically toward the door. "That was a shin-shot of panic-fueled lust. You're in. Deep."
Kazuto sat down again, wincing. "You're insane."
"And you're making memories."
He groaned into his hands. "If this is progress, I'm terrified of what Phase Two is."
The puppet grinned.
"Oh buddy… you should be."
Leave a review if you want more chapters!
Let me know if there are any issues you spot or anything you think I can take into account.
-Kano.