Chapter Text
Chapter XXIV: Adagio
March 18th, 2024
Usually, after a boss raid, most of the clearers involved took at least a few minutes to just sort out the loot in the boss room itself. Maybe even just sit and rest a little, after the invariably grueling experience. A small party, most times, would be sent ahead to activate the Teleport Gate in the new floor's main town.
Most boss raids didn't come in the wake of an experience as traumatizing as Aincrad's Fifty-Seventh Floor had been. As soon as [Vestar The Necromaster] had fallen, the entire raid group had practically stampeded in their rush to get out of the boss room and up the stairs.
After the diseased, half-dead gloom of the Fifty-Seventh Floor, Kirito thought he'd never been so happy to see a wide, open grassland. In all his time in the Steel Castle, the rolling green hills and distant pine forest were almost the most welcoming sights he'd ever seen.
Almost, he thought, glancing quickly at Kizmel as they led the clearers up onto the Fifty-Eighth Floor. I'd be even happier to see Yofel Castle, or Moongleam. …But only a little.
“Fresh air, finally!” With a laugh that bordered on hysterical, Klein broke into a run, heading straight up the closest hill. “No more zombies! No more gunk!”
“No more familiar faces,” Kirito heard Sachi murmur, as she and the rest of Fuurinkazan followed at a more sedate pace. “…Until tonight, anyway…”
Yeah. He understood that all too well. In the couple of nights between finally stopping Laughing Coffin's scheme and taking out the Floor Boss, he'd had all too many nightmares of his own. And he'd never faced any of the Doppels that the Fifty-Seventh Floor had seemingly tailored to the players encountering them.
No. Just Revenants. And… Kuze's attempt at the biggest PK incident in history.
Kirito spared a glance at the DDA contingent, just coming out of the stairway. They were all looking subdued, but none more so than the lancer-tank, Schmidt. He'd been allowed to participate in the boss raid—forced, almost—for lack of manpower; now, his borrowed lance had been taken away again, and it was plain he was virtually a prisoner among his guildmates.
He's got questions to answer, one way or another. I don't think he was a willing participant in Kuze's scheme, but he knows something about Griselda's death. …I'll have to trust Lind inherited enough of Diavel, or what he thinks of Diavel, to handle things right.
The other two players Kuze had controlled via Necrosis status were also with the DDA group. Kirito didn't think they'd be staying, though. While Krueger and Kumari had taken part in the boss raid, and both were clearers, neither were usually raid clearers, and both were obviously badly shaken by the whole thing. He wouldn't have blamed them if they both decided to abandon even mapping the frontlines, after all that.
He wasn't surprised to see Heathcliff, leading the KoB teams up, looking as calm as ever. A little disturbed, maybe, but not surprised. The Paladin had held off Vemacitrin by himself for ten minutes; if there was one man in Aincrad who was unshakeable, it was Heathcliff.
“Well,” the next person up called out cheerfully, “here we are. This is as far as I go, I'm afraid, and I can't tell you much, but I can say this floor is a lot closer to form than the last one was.”
What everyone had bizarrely started to call “Team Kirito” turned to face the lavender-haired girl, and Asuna gave a formal bow. “Thank you, Strea,” she said. “We couldn't have done it without you.”
True enough—though Kirito wasn't going to forget any time soon how the “agent of Cardinal” had almost gotten them all killed in a train derailment. A chilling reminder, that, that Kizmel was unusual among AI in how close she was to human. It was a lesson he didn't intend to forget, either.
“Well, I do what I can,” Strea said, scratching the back of her head. “Just remember: Cardinal's priority is system stability. We won't always be allies, guys. …Good luck, anyway!”
With a jaunty wave, the NPC turned back to the stairway—passing a small group of Dark Elves, led by a tall young woman with a ponytail. “I'm going to have to return below, as well,” Vanel said, raising a hand to her chest in salute. “Thank you, Swordmasters, for stopping the crisis on the Fifty-Seventh Floor.”
“I fear it isn't quite over,” Kizmel told her, returning the salute. “You'll like as not have Necros roaming for some time to come. And we were… too late to save the human settlements.”
“You still did the best you could, under the circumstances, Lady Kizmel,” Vanel replied. “The Necro threat has at least been blunted, and it won't spread to the rest of the Steel Castle now. Given what the rogue Swordmaster was planning, that's better than we might've expected. And so…” She turned to Kirito, accepted a bundle from one of her knights, and held it out to him. “Swordmaster Kirito. Your reward for leading the efforts.”
Wow, he thought, taking the odd package. I'd almost forgotten what it was like, getting an ordinary quest reward. “Thank you, Lady Vanel,” he said aloud. “…What is it, anyway?”
He wasn't sure if he deserved the elbows to his ribs. Asuna or Kizmel, maybe, but not both. His slip in manners wasn't that bad… was it?
Luckily for Kirito, Vanel didn't seem to notice or care. “Material for leather armor. It'll take a Dark Elf tailor to work it properly, but from the reports I've heard of you and your wife, you're sure to run into one sooner or later.” She smiled, a mysterious expression Kirito didn't quite understand. “Assuming you don't find yourself back in Moongleam Castle sooner, of course.”
She nodded to the team as a whole, then, saluted once more, and turned back to the stairway.
“…Okay?” Bemused, Kirito turned back to his team. “Well, that was probably the most normal thing that's happened lately… Philia? I don't suppose you could tell me what all this is?”
Philia took the package with the eager look of a treasure hunter finding good loot for the first time in far too long. That it wasn't “her” loot didn't seem to dampen her enthusiasm any—if anything, it grew when she brought up its status window. “Oh, cool! This is genuine dragonhide, from the Blackwyrm Angorock! And… ooh, pure adamantine.” She read further, blinked, and whistled. “…And it says here you need a tailor with a proficiency of at least Nine Hundred to work it.”
“Probably not Moongleam Castle,” Rain said wryly. She shook her head, red hair flashing in the welcoming sunlight. “Vanel's right, though, we're bound to bump into Dark Elves again somewhere. I think you attract 'em, Kirito.”
“Oh, he does,” Kizmel murmured, turning a smile on him that made him shiver. “He has a talent for that. Don't you think?”
Kirito didn't know quite what she meant with that last, beyond that he was pretty sure there was subtext he was missing. Which, given that he did catch the more blatant subtext, made him way too nervous to ask for clarification. Spending most of his time surrounded by girls, even before he married one of them, had taught him it was sometimes far safer to just smile and nod.
Oh, well, he thought, even as his friends broke out into utterly inexplicable snickers, I can live with it. We're away from the zombies. I can take a lot for that.
While his party had been seeing off Strea and Vanel's Dark Elves, the other groups of clearers had been talking amongst themselves. Now Lind turned to face the raid group as a whole and cleared his throat. “Obviously, I can't speak for anyone but the DDA,” he began. “But for our part, we're going to be taking at least a full day off from clearing, to recover and regroup after the last floor's events. Quite honestly, I suggest the rest of you do the same.”
Still planted on a hill, though now collapsed in a sprawl with his guild, Klein raised one eyebrow at the blue-haired guildmaster. “Y'know, Lind, any other time I might accuse you of trying to hold the rest of us back.” He cracked a rueful smile. “Today? I think you've got a point, man.”
There was a chorus of assent from Fuurinkazan—and if there was a low-voiced curse at Kayaba Akihiko mixed in here and there, Kirito wasn't about to call them out. He'd said some nasty things about the gamemaster himself, the past week. Especially after the Revenant Lodge.
Asuna was looking at Heathcliff, then, and after a moment the KoB leader gave a subtle nod. “The Knights of Blood will likewise take a short sabbatical,” he announced, as calm and confident as ever. “We'll regroup in the Fifty-Eighth Floor's main town this time tomorrow. A day or so after, I would suggest the clearers as a whole meet to discuss the fallout from the last floor. The unusual mechanics may have been unique to it, but the ramifications of how they were used still bear discussion.” He waited a moment for the other leaders to nod, then finished, “KoB, dismissed!”
Kirito almost sagged in relief. Truth be told, he was in no more mood to progress than anyone. Even with his own need to stay ahead of the curve, well, he and Kizmel both were still riding the intensive grinding they'd done after the Black Cats fell apart. They could afford to take a couple of days off, easily.
“Check out the main town for a bit, then go back home?” he suggested to his team, as the raid group began the walk to the nearest town. “I don't know about you guys, but I miss my own bed.”
Weird, after being a wanderer for the first sixteen months of the death game, to have a bed he could specifically call “his”. But nice. Very nice. Especially since it's not just “my” bed, he thought with a smile, and a faint blush. Still feels weird, but in a good way…
“Sounds good to me,” Asuna said, smiling wearily herself. “Do you guys mind if I stay over tonight? I… kind of don't just want an inn, tonight.”
“Of course you can, Asuna,” Kizmel said at once, without bothering—or needing—to ask the others. “But,” she added, with a smile at odds with her suddenly stern tone, “not until after we've availed ourselves of the bathhouse!”
The town of Harmonia, nestled amid grassy hills between the edge of a pine forest and a sparkling lake, probably would've lived up to its name under any circumstances. To players traumatized by the Fifty-Seventh Floor, it was the next best thing to paradise. Simple dirt roads winding up, down, and between the hills, cozy wooden buildings—and friendly, ordinary NPCs.
Klein expected he and his guild would enjoy the place a lot, when they had the chance. Half of them, he was sure already were. Dynamm and Sachi, though, had insisted on accompanying him to the barn the DDA had co-opted, and he hadn't been able to bring himself to deny them.
Lind probably feels the same way. Guess I should be glad he was smart enough not to argue with me, 'cause this time I was not gonna take no for an answer.
Most of the DDA contingent that had participated in the boss raid was upstairs. Lind's favorite party was with him and Klein's little group on the first floor, sitting on bales of hay. Klein himself was sitting, if only to keep himself from doing something stupid. Lind… Lind was standing straight and stiff, staring down the man sitting in the middle of the barn.
“All right, Schmidt,” the blue-haired guildmaster began, his tone surprisingly mild. Klein could hear the tension in it, though. “Start from the top. You knew Kuze, and the woman Fuurinkazan and Team Kirito reported seeing. How?”
Out of his usual heavy armor, arms limp on his thighs, head bowed, Schmidt didn't look half the tank he generally managed to be in a fight. “…The top, huh? That's… a long story, Guildmaster.” He sighed. “Sorry, I'm still pretty shook up… right. Kuze. He and I… we were guildmates, once.”
Klein forced himself not to glare at Lind. Not everything was the stuck-up man's fault, after all. “Before the DDA, right? 'Least, it didn't look to me like any of your buddies recognized the guy.”
Lind tensed, then sighed. “No, he definitely wasn't one of ours. We've been… careful… since early problems with PoH's group.” He turned his attention back to Schmidt. “Golden Apple, then? You never did say much about what happened to them.”
“Because I was scared,” Schmidt said, wincing. “I'm always scared, really, that's why I'm a tank… but I mean, really scared. 'Cause I didn't know what really happened, and I still don't quite get it now. But yeah. Kuze and I were both in the Golden Apple guild… and Griselda was our guildmaster.”
Was. If Klein didn't have a sneaky suspicion the man in front of him had had something to do with it, he'd have been feeling really bad for the guy. He'd gotten Fuurinkazan through almost a year and a half in the death game without a single casualty. He knew most guilds weren't that lucky.
“We were a good crew,” Schmidt went on, still staring at the straw-covered floor. “We weren't clearers, but we got by. It was… fun. As much as anything in this crazy place is.” He took a deep, shaky breath. “Then one day, we took out an event boss on the Forty-Third Floor. And we got that damned armlet.”
“The Necromaster Armlet,” Lind said evenly. “The one Kuze was using.” His mouth tightened. “How did he get his hands on it?”
“I… look, I know it looks bad—hell, it is bad—but I don't have a clue how Kuze ended up with it.” Schmidt's head came up, looking at his guildmaster for the first time. “I said we weren't clearers. A key item for a quest on a floor even the clearers hadn't reached yet? Crazy.” He shifted his shoulders uneasily. “Not everybody saw it that way. So we put it to a vote: keep it and see how things were when we got to the Fifty-Seventh Floor, or sell it to the clearing group for a lot of Cor.
“I think Yoruko actually wanted to just leave it up to Griselda. I just didn't want anything to do with the damn thing, and I know Caynz didn't, either.” The tank closed his eyes. “I thought Kuze was the same. Now… I gotta wonder about that.”
“Meaning?” Lind said sharply.
“The vote went for 'sell'. So, Griselda went to the frontlines to find a buyer. And… never came back.” Schmidt swallowed and hung his head again. “I swear, I didn't know that would happen. I was stupid, I know that, and I was a damn coward—but I didn't think she'd die!”
Even Klein flinched from the sudden shout—but the brief shock turned right to anger, and he almost snapped at the tank. Sachi grabbed his shoulder, though, and slowly shook her head. “What did you do, Schmidt?” she asked. Quietly, and a lot more gently than Klein would've.
But there was a bite in her voice, too, and he made himself sit back. She'd had an even rougher time in the whole zombie mess than he had, he could let her get some of it out of her system. Especially if it worked better than him picking up and shaking the guy. Again.
“I found a note in my room, the night Griselda left,” Schmidt said, voice low again. “A note, and a Corridor Crystal. It… asked me to take the crystal to where Griselda was staying, and then… then put it in the guild storage. And if I did, I'd get a lot of Cor for it.” He swallowed. “I did it. And none of us ever saw Griselda again.”
For a whole minute, maybe two, the barn was silent. It didn't take a genius to figure out the implications of that. And if Schmidt genuinely hadn't figured it out himself at the time—
“You damned idiot,” Dynamm said, disgusted. “I've been seeing you on the front for, what, two months? This would've been about three months ago, then, right when the sleep PKs started. And it didn't even enter your head setting a Corridor Crystal to her room was a bad idea?!”
“I told you, I was a coward!” Schmidt snapped back, head coming up to look at the pirate. “I am a coward! That much money, it meant I could get the best gear, and maybe not go to bed thinking the game was gonna kill me the next day! I—!” He deflated abruptly. “Yeah. Damn stupid of me. This place scares the hell out of me every day, but that's no excuse.”
“You're right. It's not.” Lind's expression was cold, his eyes narrow. Klein didn't like the guy, but damn if he didn't look the way he acted for once. “Someone used a Corridor Crystal, killed Griselda, and took the Necromaster Armlet. You got paid… and then the whole guild fell apart.”
“I don't think we lasted two days after she died,” Schmidt said heavily, looking back down at the floor. “Grimlock was her husband, in-game anyway, and he said he couldn't stand to be around without her. Caynz and Yoruko split, and I haven't see 'em since. I thought Kuze freaked and ran. And me?” A short, humorless laugh. “Put the crystal in guild storage? I knew one of us must've done it. No idea who, though. So… I went, bought the armor and a nice lance, and you know the rest.”
“You joined us, never telling us you'd helped destroy your own guild.” Lind shot a glance at two of his own party members, Shivata and Liten. If Klein remembered right, Liten had been a tank in the Aincrad Liberation Force, before the guild was practically wiped out on the Twenty-Fifth Floor. “You've put me in a very awkward position, Schmidt. Because the truth is, we never have enough people on the frontline. And you are good at tanking.”
“But he's also an accessory to murder,” Shivata pointed out with a wince. “And how do we know he won't do anything like that again?”
“…I don't think he would,” Liten said hesitantly. “I… I want to believe him. And we do know it was Kuze who really betrayed Golden Apple…”
Klein grimaced. His own first instinct was to kick Schmidt out the door, preferably without opening it first. On the other hand, one thing that was for sure was that the frontlines had plenty of DPS, but not quite so many tanks. When he forced himself to think rationally, he thought the guy was probably telling the truth. SAO's emotional expression system was damn near foolproof, from what he knew, and Schmidt was pale as a ghost. He might've been a coward and an idiot, but he didn't seem to be a murderer.
Not that we're likely to convince anybody else. And I'm not sure I'd ever trust the guy not to break in a boss fight. We need tanks, yeah, but we need ones with guts.
After a long minute of silence, Lind let out a sigh. “You're dismissed, Schmidt. Go upstairs, explore the town, do as you like. Just don't go too far. I need to think about this.”
“…I understand.” Schmidt pushed himself shakily to his feet. “I'll… be around, Guildmaster.” Wearily, the tank trudged out of the barn.
“Well,” Klein said, when he was gone. “That's one of the uglier things I've seen, since I hit the frontlines. A guild destroyed from the inside? None of them even knew who the traitor was till now? Gaah.”
Lind dropped onto a hay bale, suddenly losing his usual air of Stoic, Heroic Guildmaster. “Unfortunately, it's tame compared to some of what I've seen out of Laughing Coffin. Ask Kirito to tell you sometime about the upgrade scam from the Second Floor. And the Elf War quests on the Third. Don't forget the premature boss raid on the Fifth…” He shook his head. “Picking the weak link in guild, after infiltrating it with one of their own? That's Laughing Coffin all over. They're into open killing these days, but PoH's always favored trying to make us destroy ourselves.”
“Like Kuze's scheme,” Sachi said softly, looking down at the floor. Klein had a feeling she wasn't really seeing it. “Or… what was done to the Black Cats.”
“I admit, that one surprised me.” The DDA leader barked what might've been a laugh. “Cross the Rat? Sooner or later, she'll make Laughing Coffin pay for that.” He looked up, meeting Klein's eyes. “We had our differences, during the Christmas Eve event, Klein. I still think I was right. But if Argo had been there? I would've given up. She can make life miserable without ever risking going orange.”
Klein nodded ruefully. Well before Fuurinkazan reached the point of joining the frontlines, he'd known Argo and her reputation both. She never lied, and that was the only break she ever gave. He had no doubt at all she'd have been able to make the DDA pay if she'd really wanted to.
More, his guildhall had been her first stop the night the Black Cats died, after confirming “Joe's” disappearance. He'd heard her vow revenge on the man. He believed it.
So far as Klein knew, Kirito remained the only player who'd resorted to lethal force against Laughing Coffin. After his own, and his guild's, experiences on the Fifty-Seventh Floor, he believed Argo would be willing to follow that example. I know I am. This isn't Japan, dammit. There's no law in this world except the system. If we want justice… there's only one way to get it.
“Speaking of Argo,” Lind said then, shooting a curious glance at the door. “Where is she? I'd honestly hoped to get her input on Schmidt's story.”
“She split right when the raid group reached town,” Klein said with a shrug. “Said she had something to take care of. Then she smiled at me, so I didn't really feel like asking questions…”
Lux wasn't a clearer. Had never been a clearer, and saw no possibility she could ever be a clearer, now. She had absolutely no business being anywhere near the frontlines, let alone on the Fifty-Eighth Floor itself. Were she to encounter any mobs, she'd likely die in moments. Unless she was lucky enough, somehow, to break and run.
I'm not that lucky.
She had no business being in Harmonia whatsoever. But there, in a watch tower on the lakeside of town, was about the only place she could think of where she wouldn't run into anyone from Laughing Coffin for a few hours. They could track her, she was still—she shuddered at the very thought—on PoH's friends list, yet as long as she was in a frontline town, they couldn't come after her.
PoH would know why she was staying away. The scary thing was, he accepted it. Encouraged it, even. For her to be able to function as one of Laughing Coffin's conduits to the regular playerbase, she had to be able to relax sometimes. Always being tense and withdrawn would make things too obvious, as sensitive as SAO's emotional expression system was.
Gwen was the only friend Lux had, among the loose alliance of orange and red players. That PoH understood something Gwen didn't was a horror all by itself.
It wasn't enough to stop her from taking advantage of it. Alone atop a tower, looking out over the sparkling lake, Lux was gladly accepting the first chance to relax she'd had in a week. Zombies, she thought, shivering in the March chill despite her coat. Zombies that looked like players, and those Revenant things. And those weren't even the worst of it.
Nor was Kuze, really, in the brief times she'd interacted with him. He'd been an enthusiastic murderer with a mad plan that she'd been certain was doomed even before the Black Swordsman had dismantled it, but manic crazies were something she'd gotten used to in the three months since Laughing Coffin gave her an offer she couldn't refuse. Gleeful malice, so help her, she'd learned to take in stride.
No. Tia was what had really bothered her. The way the AI girl had taken at face value the plan as outlined to her by PoH… to Lux, it had been like watching a little girl be fed comforting lies by a parent. It clearly hadn't even occurred to Tia to doubt a word of it.
Tia was with Laughing Coffin out of self-preservation. She'd been told Kuze's zombie outbreak plan had been meant to delay clearing. Even without the private briefing PoH had given her later, Lux would've realized quickly what the real plan was—to force the game to an early end, not prolong it. Kuze's efforts had gone far beyond mere delaying tactics. But Tia… hadn't thought through the logic. Hadn't even tried to.
Lux had thought, when she first met the NPC, that it was because her reasoning wasn't capable of it. Now she understood it was that she could, but only if given the right starting point. Tia was a Turing-class example of “garbage in, garbage out”, who'd been fed nothing but garbage.
The result was horrifying, in a way even the zombies hadn't been. Just as horrifying was the realization of just how good PoH really was at manipulating people.
Even then, looking out over the peaceful lake, Lux couldn't help but shiver in horror, and no little fear. The clearers had stopped Kuze's scheme by a thread. Sooner or later, she couldn't help but fear more with each passing day, PoH would find the right crack, in the game or in the people trying to clear it, and Laughing Coffin would win.
She was amazed she could still sleep at night, and she had never yet lifted a finger against a fellow player. The worst she'd yet done was play courier for the quest items Kuze had needed—
“Well, well. So you're the one, eh?”
Lux almost tumbled off the tower in shock. A part of her was disappointed she didn't, knowing that would at least end things; more of her was caught up in trying to figure out who'd just spoken. Spinning to face the ladder that had brought her to her perch, she at first didn't see anyone at all.
Then the air rippled, revealing a brown-clad figure in a hooded cloak. One bearing a cheeky grin—and a distinctive set of whiskers painted on her face.
Argo the Rat. …I'm dead.
The Rat tsked. “Hey, now, you don't need ta look so scared, girl. I ain't gonna hurt ya.”
“Really?” Lux licked suddenly dry lips. “I hear just talking to you ends up costing people Cor. What could you possibly want with me?” Besides the obvious, oh, please, don't be the obvious—
“Besides wantin' ta know what a girl like you was doing with LC in the middle of a zombie apocalypse?” The Rat chuckled. “Oh, don't gimme that look! I'm gonna give you the benefit of the doubt. I'll even pay ya for yer services! C'mon, everybody knows the Rat tells it straight!”
“You can't pay me enough,” Lux whispered, backing toward the tower's edge. Maybe if she jumped, she might survive it… “If you know, then you know what they'll do if I tell you anything. And I know they'd find out, I don't know who it is, but they've got sources in the clearing group itself. Please, just… just go.” She had a sudden, wild thought. “Or lock me in the Black Iron Castle! Please—!”
The Rat tsked again. “Now, now, take it easy.” She dropped into a crouch, smiling a cat's smile. “See, here's th' thing, girl. I'm not gonna ask you anything. An' yeah, if you really want, I can send ya to the Black Iron Castle—but I think we both know that's not gonna solve anything. So I'm gonna make a deal with you.” Teeth poked out from her grin. “It ain't gonna be safe… but if ye're up for it, sometime you can gimme a hand. Ya don't have to tell me a thing. Just… be ready.” She extended one hand. “Think ya might hear me out?”
Staring at that hand, Lux trembled, heart racing. She was terrified—more terrified, even, than she'd been in the middle of Kuze's plot—but not just at being found out. Most frightening of all… was the faint hope.
“Ahh… moontear wine really is nice, after the last week or so. Do you and Kirito-kun always keep a supply of this in your storage, Kizmel-chan?”
“But of course, Asuna. I've enjoyed many a human drink, but there is simply nothing like a taste of home, even now. …Though I admit, before we leave this floor I'd like to try the local specialty. It sounds delightful; not at all the sort of thing my people would have thought of.”
“Chocolate liqueur? I dunno, Kizmel, I think that'd be kinda overkill right now. I mean there's such a thing as too much chocolate, and if chocolate liqueur in a bath like this isn't it, I don't know what would be.”
“Philia's got a point. I know the last time I had too much chocolate, I was sick to my stomach all day. Never made that mistake again.”
“Actually, Rain, that shouldn't be a problem here. It's our brains receiving the NerveGear signals, not our stomachs, so there really isn't anything in Aincrad that should cause nausea. Well, except getting spun around too much, I guess, I've noticed the inner ear interacts kinda weirdly with the redirected nerve impulses—”
“Kirito-kun? Shut up and enjoy the moment.”
Obediently, Kirito stopped talking at once. If there was one thing he'd learned, the past year and a half, it was when to just be quiet and accept a girl was right, because sometimes the technical answer wasn't the correct one. And because girls could be really scary.
Especially in a situation like this, he reflected, taking a sip of his own elven wine. How did this become my life, again?
The log-walled room was surprisingly warm, given the spring temperatures the Fifty-Eighth Floor otherwise had. A long rectangle, one end of it was taken up by a sitting area with couches, a table, and a couple of padded benches. The other held a broad, deep tub, more than big enough to stretch out in and comfortable for a half-dozen people.
Up to his chest in warm, melted chocolate, Kirito wondered what it said about his life that his first reaction to the Harmonia bathhouse was mild wistfulness that it didn't have the grand view of Yofel Castle's bath. It did have a window—one-way; he'd checked—overlooking the nearby lake, but it just didn't quite match the caldera in which the Dark Elf castle sat.
But it's nice, anyway. I know I never wouldn't tried something like this back in Japan.
Back home, of course, he never would've been in this situation at all. Not bathing in chocolate, and definitely not doing so with four very pretty girls, one of whom he'd married. That it was starting to feel oddly normal made him wonder, distantly, just how his life had gotten to this point.
Kirito was trying very, very hard not to wonder how many of the girls were bothering with swimwear. He'd gotten in first and politely looked at the ceiling when the others joined him, but he could make some guesses. He was fairly sure Rain, at least, was; she was more bashful than the others, he'd noticed before, and he thought he'd spotted a strap on her shoulder when she lifted her arm to take a glass of wine. Philia, he wasn't so sure about. She was up to her neck in chocolate, and he remembered from the Fifty-First Floor that she was pretty blasé about showing skin. Her misunderstanding about Asuna the other day aside, he figured she might've gone either way.
Asuna herself, he couldn't begin to guess. While she was up to her chin in the chocolate, he honestly wasn't sure if it was for modesty or just because she enjoyed the bath that much. Once he would've been certain; after her own carefree attitude after the train wreck, it was more questionable.
About Kizmel, Kirito had no doubts at all. She wasn't, surprisingly, sitting next to him, but rather directly across from him—which if anything made things more obvious, giving him a clear view. She was far enough out of the chocolate to be draping an arm on the lip of the tub. Which, just incidentally, meant enough of her chest was above the surface to make it perfectly plain she was naked, with only molten darkness preserving any semblance of modesty.
She seemed blithely unconcerned about the whole thing, much as she had when he'd first met her. He knew better, from the half-lidded glances she kept sending his direction, not to mention the way her body moved whenever she brought her glass to her lips almost lifted her chest free of the chocolate.
That dark, thick concealment was about all that kept him from reactivating the Ethics Code out of sheer self-preservation. That kind of open flirting, bordering on outright seduction, right in front of the other girls was startling, and admittedly very hard for him to resist.
Though right now, I'm not going to complain that much, Kirito admitted to himself. Which is the other reason I'm not turning on the Ethics Code. We could all use the distraction.
He had a feeling Fuurinkazan wouldn't be visiting the chocolate bath any time soon. From what they'd reported, it would probably remind them too much of the sludge that had spawned the Doppels in the Dead Workshop. Lucky for his team, they had no such baggage, yet what they did have was bad enough.
“You know,” Kizmel said then, lazily moving her free hand through the chocolate, “for all that I said the other day my people have a greater mastery of baths than yours, I must admit this is one concept that wouldn't have occurred to me.” She cupped that hand then, lifted it to her mouth, and poured in some of the chocolate. Swallowed, slowly and deliberately. “A bath both soothing and delicious?” She licked her lips clean, a process Kirito found absolutely mesmerizing. “A wonderful idea, indeed.”
Rain, face as red as her hair, coughed. “It, um, it's definitely nice,” she said, quickly looking away from the elf girl. “Though I really have to wonder what this is even doing in SAO. This seems a bit… well. Not the kinda thing I would've expected Kayaba to include.”
“If we learned one thing from the Fifty-First Floor, it's that Kayaba understands the need for breathers,” Kirito pointed out, managing with some effort to drag his attention away from Kizmel's… snacking. “Even if the Fifty-Seventh had gone as planned, it still would've been a nightmare. Something like this distracts from the zombies pretty well, don't you think?”
He knew he was distracted. All the girls were attractive enough, and he couldn't help but remember what Asuna had looked like back in the hot spring in Castle Galey. More than that, it was really hard not to notice how the dark chocolate complimented Kizmel's dusky skin…
“There's a rumor going around, too,” Philia said, breaking Kirito's near-hypnosis. Glancing over at her, he noticed she was wearing an expression that was a little too casual. He'd know, having used that bland smile a time or two himself. “Supposedly, somebody on the dev team had the idea to use SAO as a test for a Full-Dive eroge. Story goes they got kicked off the team and the code dummied out, but… well, if Kayaba was trying to make a world, wouldn't it make sense for him to add that back in?”
The chocolate around Rain was suddenly even more molten that it had been already, and Kirito thought his own face was probably just as red. Kizmel, on the other hand, only raised one eyebrow, took a slow sip of wine, and said, “Eroge? I don't recall that term being in the guide Argo gave me, when I first gained Swordmaster privileges—”
“Don't ask!” Asuna broke in, her face steaming. “Or if you have to, ask Kirito-kun later! Not while the rest of us are here!”
Kirito could only nod quickly in agreement. That was just… He was getting used to Kizmel's forwardness, he really was, but not in front of others. And I have no idea if she's serious with that question. I wouldn't put it past Argo to have already told her… wow, I'm glad the Rat isn't here.
From the evil chuckle Philia was indulging in, her part at least was completely intentional. “Okay, okay, I'll stop. But,” she added with a grin, “you really should ask him, Kizmel. Just for the look on his face.” As certain others sputtered, the treasure hunter snagged a cracker from a plate next to the tub, dipped it in the chocolate, and ate it with obvious relish. “More seriously… I didn't get a chance to ask about this before, Kirito. You can use Elucidator now?”
Torn between a flinch at the reminder of the previous floor's events and sheer relief at the change in subject, Kirito nodded. “The level I gained finishing that Revenant—” he refused to use the name it had been made in mockery of “—finally did the trick. Actually,” he added, bringing up his menu, “I wanted to ask you to take a look at it?”
Philia accepted the sword, its blade a shade darker than the bath, and blinked at the weight. “Wow. I knew you liked heavy swords, Kirito, but this one… Right. Status, status…” She whistled. “The flavor text says it was forged from the purified bones of some kind of metal demon, and I can believe it. Passive boosts to STR and AGI—ha, that's funny, how heavy the thing is—and… would you believe a max of fifty upgrades?”
“Fifty?!”
The chorus of exclamations included Kizmel—who'd had player privileges more than long enough to understand the significance well enough herself—and brought Rain high enough to confirm she was indeed wearing a bikini. Not to mention for Kirito to notice a suspicious lack of straps on Asuna… But this once, his focus really was on the sword.
A maximum of fifty upgrades? The average by that point in the clearing was no higher than thirty, even for high-end weapons. Kirito's own beloved Anneal Blade, broken so long ago, had topped out at eight, and even Asuna's old Chivalric Rapier had had sixteen.
Asuna abruptly dropped back into the concealing chocolate, arms crossed over her chest. “W-well,” she said, “it was the LA Bonus from the fiftieth boss. And Kirito-kun couldn't even use it until just a few days ago. But still… wow.” She chuckled; and if the sound was a bit forced, Kirito wasn't going to comment. “At least you won't have to worry about getting a new sword for awhile, right, Kirito-kun?”
“That one will last me probably twenty floors, if nothing goes wrong,” he agreed, taking Elucidator back from Philia with an almost reverent expression. “That means I can stop risking Andvar. I was really worried I'd break it.”
Visual representation of binary code be damned. The sword meant something to Kizmel, and as a swordsman it was about the most precious gift Kirito could imagine. As soon as they were home, he was mounting it on the wall of their bedroom, and always making sure he had a spare sword in his active storage.
“That's certainly good news, indeed,” Kizmel murmured. Settling back into the warm black herself, she idly brought another handful of chocolate to her mouth. “As much as it honors my father's memory to take it to the battlefield again,” she went on, between slow sips, “I'd rather one of the few mementos I have not be lost.”
She ran a hand through her hair then, brushing a few stray locks out of her face—and just incidentally smearing some chocolate on some of those lilac strands, and on the edge of one pointed ear.
Kirito scrambled for a distraction, before she—or he—did something more inappropriate. He found it in putting away Elucidator, and materializing the Baneblade in its place. “Anyway!” he said loudly. “Philia? I was wondering if the description of this sword's changed any. Going by the source material, I think opening the hand guard should be the final stage, but…”
Philia chuckled, obviously seeing right through him, but took the shining sword anyway. “Well, let me just take a look then.” She tapped the blade—just incidentally getting some chocolate on it, which oddly seemed to melt right into the mythril—and brought up its status window. “Hm… That's interesting. 'Returned to its ancient glory, the sword stands restored. In darkness it may yet blaze a path to the future by the light of the stars.' I wonder what that means?”
“Another quest, probably. Somewhere.” Sighing, Kirito sank deeper into the bath. “I'm not sure what the clue is supposed to mean, though. Hyrus' Forge was easy enough, battle with true Evil was disturbing but not surprising, and at least the Well of Life was obvious the second we found the right quest. This? What darkness? What 'light of the stars'?”
“I suppose it might mean something up on the Hundredth Floor,” Asuna said dubiously, finally relaxing her posture. “That's the only place in Aincrad you can really see the stars… but all that's supposed to be up there is the Ruby Palace.”
The treasure hunter shrugged. “Beats me. I guess we'll find out when the time comes. In the meantime?” She handed the Baneblade back to Kirito. “Stats are up again. You should be good for another five or ten floors, at least.”
“Great.” He tucked it back into storage again with a sigh. “An LA Bonus and an anti-orange player weapon. I might as well be walking around with a target on my back.”
“If Laughing Coffin doesn't already see you as a mortal enemy, husband,” Kizmel said wryly, “they never will. And if they are so foolish as to underestimate you—as with Titan's Hand—or even somehow fail to recognize you, well, who are we to complain?”
“I guess you've got a point there.” That kind of underestimation had, after all, been exactly how they'd gotten the drop on Titan's Hand. And that encounter, unlike the recent mess with Kuze, had ended peaceably.
Well. Without fatalities, anyway. Huh… I wonder how they're doing down there. Is Rosalia still deluding herself, or has the time locked up with nothing to do but think gotten her to the point of facing the truth?
Kirito didn't know. Frankly, he was just glad not to be in her position. They'd both killed, yes—but at least he had the consolation that he'd only taken the lives of those who preyed on others themselves. Whatever blood was on his hands, it certainly wasn't innocent.
There was a long silence, as the five of them just enjoyed the bath, the wine, and the snacks. It was probably the most relaxed any of them had been in over a week; maybe longer, given that it had only been a few days between the drama surrounding The Geocrawler and the ascent to the Fifty-Seventh Floor. Though Aincrad was usually providing fresh hazards from day to day, the Fifty-Sixth and Seventh Floors had been far worse than usual.
At length, Asuna polished off her current round of moontear wine, and stared down into the empty glass. “What do you suppose will happen with Schmidt now? Or the other two controlled players, for that matter? What Kuze did to them… I can't imagine what that must've been like.”
Kirito shrugged, gaze drifting to the lake view. “I heard Krueger and Kumari were going to drop down a few floors for awhile. Something about helping about mid-levels, while they get over the shakes. Maybe they can get together with Agil, if he's not being too mercenary… Schmidt, I don't know. Whatever the story is with him, he definitely screwed up, and I don't know if he's got the nerve to keep going.”
“…I kinda hope he does,” Rain said quietly, looking down at the chocolate covering her. “We do need all the clearers we can get, and I think what he went through is worse punishment than anything the DDA could arrange. Isn't it better if he makes up for things by helping keep other people alive?”
“There's merit in that,” Kizmel agreed. “Though it's been some time since we lost a Swordmaster against a Tower Guardian, we can hardly afford to become complacent. Too many have died already.”
The soft, melancholy comment brought Kirito's attention back to her—and between the dark train of thought and the way she was stretching, almost lifting her chest clear of the bath, he scrambled for a change in topic. “Speaking of Swordmasters and losses,” he said quickly, “what do you think was up with the green player Tia had with her? She didn't look… well, she looked like she wasn't really happy to be there.”
“Indeed.” Kizmel paused mid-motion, a millimeter from exposure, and for a bare instant there was a knowing smile on her face. Then it was gone, and she was sinking back into the black with a sober expression. “Tia did not seem to treat her as an equal, either. Were I to guess, I would suspect she was somehow coerced into aiding Laughing Coffin.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” Asuna put in, leaning forward and drawing up her legs to hug her knees. “When I saw her… she reminded me of the Qusack guild, actually.”
“'Qusack'?” Philia repeated, frowning. “Wait… I heard about them a year or so back, I think. Quest-focused guild, right? But what do they have to do with this?”
“An early effort by PoH's group—way before they were 'Laughing Coffin'—to screw up clearing,” Kirito told her, thinking back to that too-innocent group he and Asuna had first met on the Sixth Floor. “Really, after that mess I shouldn't have been surprised when Laughing Coffin went after Kizmel and me in an Elf War map…”
As he told that particular tale—one of the hairier messes he'd been through in the early days; in hindsight he shuddered at how close the Elf War quest had come to being completely derailed—he found himself idly wondering about Qusack. At the time, they'd only said they were abandoning the Elf War itself, yet he and Asuna had never run into them again.
Of course, we never encountered them before that, either. We probably just outpaced them. …Huh. Maybe I'll ask Argo later? No, wait, he corrected himself, better make it Agil. He charges for goods, not info. And I don't want to see Argo until today is a few days behind us.
“Wow,” Philia said, when he'd finished. “Everything I hear about PoH and Laughing Coffin just makes them sound even crazier… and scarier. It wouldn't even have occurred to me that quests could be derailed like that, and still keep going.” She hesitated. “Um… you know, that kinda makes me think of what you and Kizmel said about the original Baneblade quest. Do you think maybe Griselda's ghost was like that? The system using a player's image to move a quest forward?”
What little could be seen of Asuna above the chocolate turned pale at the reminder. She rallied quickly, though—maybe helped by downing her entire glass of wine in one gulp—and said, “I… don't think it's quite the same thing, actually. What Kirito-kun and Kizmel-chan saw sounded like Kayaba meddling with them, specifically.”
“Yeah, sure,” Rain agreed. “But we already know Cardinal was trying to push us toward solving the problem Kuze was exploiting. Why couldn't Griselda's ghost have been the same?”
“Because she only talked about Schmidt's involvement,” Kirito said slowly, thinking back to both their encounter with her and Fuurinkazan's. “That didn't really have anything to do with stopping Kuze. And we know the system doesn't care about individual PKing events. Kizmel and me, I can see why Kayaba or Cardinal might get involved. Asuna and I broke Kizmel's original quest, and then Kizmel came up to the frontlines on her own…”
“And a good thing, too,” the elf girl said with a smile, idly stirring the chocolate in a way that almost pushed too much of it away from her chest. “Without Asuna, someone had to keep you in line.”
…Right now, I don't think I'm the one pushing things too far. “Anyway,” he said, deliberately turning his gaze back to Rain, “all things considered, I don't see any reason for the system to have drawn attention to the Golden Apple guild. If anything, it was more of a distraction from what we really needed to do right then.”
“Then what was she?” Philia asked, dipping and crunching another cracker. “I mean… Aincrad doesn't really have ghosts… right?”
Asuna let out a strangled whimper. Kirito could only slowly shake his head. “I… don't really know,” he confessed. “But there's one thing that still bothers me, whatever Griselda's ghost really was.”
Kizmel nodded, the playfulness gone—for now—from her face. “Considering how Swordmaster storage works—how did Kuze receive the Necromaster Armlet?”
Back in Japan, staying in a bath—even a chocolate one—too long wasn't exactly healthy. In Aincrad, there was absolutely no reason not to soak all day, if there wasn't anything better to do. On a day the clearing group as a whole had decided was one for rest, “Team Kirito” did exactly that. Chatting about whatever came to mind, once the heavy topics were out of the way, and idly speculating about what quests the new floor had to offer; anything to relieve the tension of the past week.
The sun had set, finally, when most of the group finally left. Rain and Philia went first, using single-purpose Teleport Crystals not so different from the one Kirito had for the Dark Elf Royal Capital to return to the team's cabana. He couldn't help but notice, before they left, that Philia had indeed been wearing a swimsuit—just a strapless one, as if she'd been deliberately trolling. Which, knowing the treasure hunter's sense of humor, she might've been.
Asuna departed not long after, climbing out to leave the bathhouse by more conventional means. At her sharp look, Kirito averted his eyes until she was out of the tub and past. Despite that, he couldn't help noticing her back was tellingly bare; though he did manage not to look any lower, for propriety and fear for his life.
After that, only when he was absolutely sure Asuna was gone did he risk looking away from the lake, sparkling as it was in the odd light of Aincrad's night. Only then did he turn back to the dusky elf girl still in the tub, and look at her through narrowed eyes. “You've been doing that on purpose.”
“Have I?” Legs crossed such that her knees were above the chocolaty surface, wineglass in one hand while the other idly stirred the bath, Kizmel smiled lazily. “And what is it, husband, that I've been doing 'on purpose'?”
“You know what. I thought you said you weren't an exhibitionist?” And isn't this just a perfectly weird conversation to be having. Even weirder, it's starting to feel completely normal.
She chuckled, low and throaty. “Well, with even Asuna finally willing to forgo those ridiculous swimsuits you humans insist on, at least among friends, why should I not be as relaxed?” The elf girl sobered, though she was still smiling in a way that made his heart race. “Mm… perhaps I was indulging myself more than usual. But I believe we all needed that, don't you?”
“…I won't deny that.” Sighing, Kirito slipped deeper into the bath. “Zombies, fighting in Safe Havens, towns destroyed, a train wreck… I've had worse weeks. I think. But not lately.”
“Indeed.” Violet eyes shadowed, Kizmel poured more wine into her glass. If it had been back home, they both would've been quite drunk by then; as it was, Kirito thought he was starting to feel a bit strange, and wondered what exactly the NerveGear was doing. “All of those… and battling foes wearing faces of the dead.”
He winced. Their group had been spared fighting any Doppels, and the twisted depiction of Morte in the Revenant had been just off enough to let him keep fighting with only a brief shock. Even so, it certainly hadn't been easy, and knowing what Sachi had faced had hurt even second-hand.
“I have to admit,” Kizmel continued softly, gazing down into her wine, “I am relieved it was my father the quest chose to imitate. If it had been my mother, Klaris… I don't know that I could've raised my blade against her. Even knowing the truth.”
Coming to a quick, inevitable decision, Kirito scooted around the tub, settling back in to her left. Putting an arm around her shoulders, he pulled her in close. “I'm sorry,” he whispered into one long, pointed ear. “I know the whole floor must've been hard for you.”
She leaned into him, shifting so that she was in the crook of his arm. “It… wasn't easy, no. Seeing what I had not even a week before believed to be people as alive as you or I so cruelly twisted, right before my eyes… Perhaps if I had had some distance, rather than facing it so soon after learning the truth of the people of this world, it might've been easier.” The elf girl sighed. “But perhaps not.” She looked up at him through chocolate-streaked bangs. “Certainly there were other tests of the spirit there, isn't that right?”
He shifted uneasily, half-distracted by the feel of her bare skin against him in the motion. “Well… yeah. Though it shouldn't have been that hard. From now on, I'm going to make sure I've always got a backup weapon with Paralysis poison, just in case. Fighting off Schmidt and the others would've been a lot easier if we could've just paralyzed them and been done with it.”
“Mm-hm.” Kizmel ran a hand through her hair, smearing it and her left ear with more chocolate, and lifted one eyebrow. “Though of course, you would not have used such on Kuze. Would you, Kirito-kun.”
Kirito gave her a small, bitter smile. “You really do see right through me, don't you, Kizmel?” He sighed heavily. “No. Against Morte, I might've. If I could've stopped him before he forced me to use Dual Blades. But Kuze? …He admitted he was going to use what he learned in Aincrad to kill people in our world. Locking him up here would've just guaranteed he lived long enough to get out, and nothing would've stopped him then.”
“You don't believe your justice system would punish him for his crimes here?” Not disbelief, he noticed. More like curiosity—and a sense of resignation, leading him to suspect the Dark Elf society Kayaba had created around her had its own miscarriages of justice.
“No. I don't. I miss my home… but I know what my society is like.” He chuckled; a far more humorless sound than what Kizmel had indulged in earlier. “If anything, being here in Aincrad has let me see more clearly. In this world, you can't look away from the truth. Not if you want to live. In my homeland… if he killed there, and was caught, that'd be one thing. But any crime committed here? I'll be pretty surprised if it isn't all blamed on Kayaba, just so that people don't have to think about it.”
His people were good at that, at ignoring anything that didn't fit. He'd used that himself, to hide away, after he learned the truth about his family. In hindsight, Kirito found that nothing less than horrifying. Worse, he could see perfectly well that he'd happily take advantage of it again, if he ever returned. The person he'd become, the things he'd done—they would never understand. And among those who didn't understand, he'd be just as glad to accept that social invisibility.
No wonder he felt more comfortable right where he was, with a beautiful elf tucked against him. In that moment, in the Steel Castle in the endless sky, with a girl who'd never known anything else, he knew exactly where he stood.
A chocolate-covered hand stroked his chest, startling Kirito out of his introspection. “Sad,” Kizmel murmured, fingertips tracing the vestiges of kendo muscle he still retained, outlining them in darkness a few shades deeper than her skin. “You come from a world of wonders, and yet… well. I suppose any world is flawed, else you never would've dreamed of this one.”
“It's not all bad,” he said quietly, letting himself enjoy her touch. “There are things that I couldn't really appreciate before, that I will once I can see them again.” He stroked her hair, neither of them caring the lilac was getting darker with each touch. “…I want to show you everything.” I just don't know how yet.
“Then you will.” She smiled up at him, warm and welcoming. “And until you do, we'll see the wonders this world still has to offer. As great a nightmare as the Fifty-Seventh Floor was, you and I have seen beauty here, too.”
“…Yeah. We have.”
The Forest of Wavering Mists, where they'd first met. Yofel Castle, with its amazing bath, and breathtaking caldera lake. The cliff fortress of Castle Galey, and the shining darkness of Moongleam Castle at night. The forests of the Thirty-Eighth Floor, and the eerily beautiful ruins of the Reliquary. The seas of the Fifty-First Floor, which they now claimed as home.
And… well.
Over a year before, Asuna had given him a very speaking look when declaring her—correct—assumption as to which elf he'd chosen to side with in the beta test. At the time, he'd claimed it was because she was dark, not because she was a lady. After all, anybody who looked at him could see he favored dark colors.
But looking back… it's not like Asuna was wrong. I thought she was just a mindless NPC, but even then I thought Kizmel was the most beautiful sight in Aincrad. …Nothing I've seen since has changed my mind.
Looking down at her now, tucked against him like it was the most normal thing in the world, Kirito fixated on one of Kizmel's long, pointed ears. One of her more exotic traits, which had grabbed his attention from that long-ago day in the beta and still drew his eye now. A dusky ear, now coated in an even darker layer.
Decided, he leaned in close, and slowly, deliberately licked the chocolate from her ear. From the base, around the lobe, all the way up to that exotic point. He closed his mouth over that sharp tip—and very gently, very deliberately, sank his teeth in.
Maybe it was the NerveGear doing its job too well. After all, real dark chocolate was a mild aphrodisiac.
Kizmel shuddered in the crook of his arm, breath hitching at his ministrations. “K-Kirito-kun,” she got out, hand suddenly clutching at his chest. “You… you…”
He let go of her ear, chuckling. “You admitted you were doing it on purpose,” he pointed out, tracing the edge of that ear with his finger. “Turnabout's fair play, right?”
“…Yes. Yes, it is, Kirito-kun.” For a few moments, she only leaned against him, fingernails digging into his chest, as her breathing slowly evened out. Then, abruptly, she pulled away from him, pushing herself to her feet.
“Kizmel—?”
Kirito suddenly found himself at a loss for words. Standing over him, up to her thighs in chocolate, Kizmel was indeed naked. Up and out of the bath, the liquid darkness clung to her, emphasizing rather than concealing her body, supple muscle and soft curves alike.
Looking up, past the chocolate dripping from her fingers and breasts, he met her eyes—and couldn't look away, transfixed by that smoldering gaze. “Kirito-kun,” she said, low and breathy. “This is the first time we've been alone in over a week.”
Kirito swallowed. “I…”
He had no idea what he would've said. Kizmel was sinking back into the bath, straddling him, bare skin separated only by a thin, slick layer. “I believe, Kirito-kun,” she whispered, pressing her chest to his, “that you owe me a… reward.”
Then there was no more talking. Her mouth was against his, taking advantage of his surprise to quickly deepen the kiss. Deep, and hungry, with the sweet and sour bite of the moontear wine and bittersweet of the chocolate bath. Her arms went around his neck, holding him close; his hands roamed her back, savoring the softness over taut muscle that was the elven swordswoman.
This is where I belong, a sane corner of Kirito's mind thought, as the rest abandoned reason in favor of battling Kizmel's mouth for dominance. Right here, right now. In the Steel Castle—
Kizmel locked her legs around Kirito's waist, shifted her weight back, and pulled him down on top of her, toppling them both beneath the chocolate surface. Reason fled.