Londinium
Aincrad Floor 25 - August 20, 2023

I don't think I knew much about Sachi before she told me she wanted to die.

"If I had the courage to commit suicide, I wouldn't have hid in town."

She said that, but I still thought she might try it.

I'd known Sachi for only a few weeks, having run into her guild, Black Cats of the Full Moon, while I was farming a lower-level dungeon. They were a group of high school friends, and it was the guild leader's project to turn Sachi into a forward—or rather, a shield-and-sword tank.

But this was an impossible task for Sachi. She was terrified of combat, terrified to die. That would've been an odd reaction in most video games, but death in SAO was very real—and very permanent.

"I'm scared of death. I'm so scared it keeps me up at night."

That's why she ran away, going off in the middle of the night to hide in the shadows near a drainage channel. In the pale moonlight, I sat beside her, trying to listen, trying to make up my mind about what to say.

"Why did this happen? Why can't we leave this game? Why is it we die for real if it's only a game? What could Kayaba have to gain by doing this? What is the purpose of this world?"

You see, Sachi and I were in an impossible situation: trapped within the virtual reality MMO Sword Art Online. With the NerveGear technology blocking our brains from the outside world, we were fully immersed within "Aincrad," a floating castle with one hundred floors to conquer and plunder.

But if we should die in the game, the NerveGear would irradiate our brains and render our real bodies as dead as our characters.

In the beginning, there had been as many as ten thousand of us. By the time I met with Sachi at the drainage channel, there couldn't have been more than 7,500 of us left.

So Sachi's fears were quite justified, and that's why she couldn't continue as a tank. It was hard enough to fight the many and varied monsters of Aincrad. To fight one's fears in addition? That was a recipe to die.

And I told her as much.

"If you're afraid to die, so afraid that it paralyzes you in combat, you shouldn't fight."

Her head snapped up at that, and for the first time in our conversation, she looked straight at me.

"How could I do that? I owe it to the guild—"

"Not to put them in jeopardy with a mistake. You know how to play the game, Sachi. I've seen that. The only thing that could put you or everyone around you in danger is fear. If fear makes you forget how to play, you won't be the only one to die."

"I see."

Sachi stared ahead again, into the darkness, and after some contemplation, she said,

"Thank you, Kirito. I think it's best if I follow your advice. It's scary to stay behind as the others go on, but I'll be happier that way. I won't be afraid anymore, and the others will be safer, too."

With that, she made for the drain's ladder. She was smiling, but she dabbed at her eye, just above her beauty mark, and with each rung on the ladder, she hesitated, like she wanted to make sure it would hold firm under her feet.

Sachi never went out with the rest of us again. She made up her mind that day, and the rest of the guild understood. We continued to farm favorable hunting grounds, and some weeks later, we put forward the money to buy some guild housing. Since Sachi wasn't actively leveling, she was the natural choice to complete the purchase and move our belongings.

But the rest of Black Cats died that day. All of them except me.

And Sachi.

The truth is, I bear the responsibility for those deaths. Black Cats were annihilated because they ran into a trapped chest—a chest I knew was very likely to be a trap. I'd been in that dungeon before because I was much, much higher in level than them. I was a former beta tester, and the general public viewed beta testers with suspicion. Beta testers could withhold information for their private benefit. Whether that actually happened or not, people believed it was true and scapegoated beta testers for costing people's lives. I wasn't that kind of person, but I had leveled aggressively, well beyond most other players. It would've been natural for them to view me with that stigma, and for that, I'd kept silent. For that, they died.

That guilt stayed with me, long after the guild had died.

#

It was the middle of August, 2023. In ten months, the raiding guilds had cleared up to Floor 34, and in SAO, a raider's work is never done. There's always another floor to clear, another boss to scout and analyze, another raid to assemble from the ragtag volunteers who made up the raiding community, and finally, a strategy to execute, killing the boss and starting the cycle anew.

Though Black Cats had fallen months before, I had kept going to raids from time to time. I was a high-level player, after all, and the game wasn't going to clear itself.

The boss of Floor 34 was called Hecate, Goddess of the Crossroads, and her lair reflected that title well: Hecate stood on a triangular pattern of suspended walkways, intersecting in groups of three at a series of triangular nodes.

And what were the walkways suspended over? A pit of lava, of course, just to keep things interesting. That probably explained the heavy sweat on my brow—that, and the fact that we were on our fifth attempt of the afternoon.

My job in the raid was to tank Maiden—the most youthful of Hecate's three aspects. You see, Hecate was composed of three separate bosses—Maiden, Mother, and Crone. They remained confined to a single pedestal, sitting at an intersection of three roads. Each miniboss faced one of the roads, so the fight demanded three sets of tanks, at least. My partner on Maiden was the courageous DDA forward Schmitt.

"Kirito, switch!"

So courageous he'd call out for a switch when he was at 65% health. What did I think of this? I brushed the flat side of my sword, watched my Healing Crystal cooldown finish, and tapped my foot while keeping an eye on Schmitt's health bar.

"Kirito, switch!"

Maiden's weapon—a jet-black iron whip—wrapped around Schmitt's shield, smacking him across the face. Even still, he was just a hair over 50%—still quite safe, really, but just to get Schmitt off my back, I asked the raid leader his opinion.

"Klein, you think we need to switch yet?"

To my left was the guild leader of Fūrinkazan, the katana-wielder Klein. While Schmitt and two other tanks kept the bosses busy, the rest of the raid DPSed from the bosses' sides. Klein was among them, but as the raid leader, high damage per second wasn't his top priority. He monitored the overall health and status of the raid, and he knew—as I did—that Schmitt was in no immediate danger. Klein said as much.

"I'd like to get another fifteen seconds of damage on them, at least. Just hold on a bit."

Schmitt didn't take that well.

"I'm going to die over here while you're squeezing in a few extra percent? No way! Kirito, switch, now!"

To my horror, Schmitt leaped back, away from the Maiden boss, leaving her untanked. All three bosses—Maiden, Mother, and Crone—stopped swinging at their targets, and the pedestal they stood on disappeared in a flash of light.

"Get away! She's porting out early!"

That was Klein, who led his group of DPS down one of the narrow roads. His call wasn't a moment too soon, for once the bosses were gone, the lava beneath the intersection bubbled and frothed. It erupted in a towering pillar, engulfing the intersection and anyone who still stood near.

"AGH!"

And the wall of lava claimed two victims, clipping them on their way to the next node. The wounded fell face-first onto the hovering road, their health down to 25% and continuing to drop, thanks to a burn debuff. I could do nothing to help them, though. I had to get to Maiden.

As the raid scrambled to reengage, the Maiden, Mother, and Crone stomped and pounded on the walkways. Each hit dislodged pieces of rubble from the suspended paths, and cracks formed in the nearest sections.

CRASH! Three nearby sections shattered, falling into the lava, and Hecate teleported again. They glowed with a red light, and they pounded on the walkway faster this time—always faster each time they succeeded.

That was the clock we were racing against.

I jumped from walkway to walkway, taking my position opposite Maiden. Contrary to her name, she was not a beautiful creature. She snarled and hissed as she struck me with her metal whip. I dodged and dodged, and the one time I was brazen enough to try to parry, the whip wrapped around my blade and gashed me.

And what was Schmitt doing through all of this? He was sucking on a Healing Potion, eyes glued to the pixels of his health bar. A tank who's not switched in and who can't attack? The least he could do was monitor the rest of the raid!

But that was impossible for Schmitt. Put into a position of pressure and fear, he'd shown me already what he would do.

So as Maiden's whip zipped by me, as her health ticked past 15%, and I made the call.

"No more switches! Burn it down!"

One of the other forwards glanced at me in alarm.

"Are you nuts? We couldn't survive 15% even on the first cycle! What makes you think we can do it now?"

"We need to do it, or we're going to fall too far behind and wipe. Hold fast, and blow everything you have to survive these last few seconds. Have your Teleport Crystals ready in case we have to reset it."

There was some murmuring and confusion in the raid, but Klein stepped in to silence it.

"You heard the man. No more switches; burn this boss down, but be ready for the reset. Go, go, go!"

With all of us in agreement, I focused on my opponent, Maiden. She whipped at me with unreal speed, and my ears rang from the constant cracks of the whip. I watched her eyes, hoping she would telegraph her attacks, and that worked for a while.

Until we reached 10%. The three bosses turned red with rage, and Maiden closed her eyes, striking blindly.

"It's a frenzy! Watch out!"

A second whip materialized in Maiden's off hand, and she swung with them in a wild craze. I parried one at a weak angle, taking minimal damage, but the other—

"Urgh!"

The other caught me across the face. There was no blood of course, but that single hit lopped off 15% of my health.

The other tanks weren't faring so well, either. From the corner of my eye, I watched their health bars dwindle: Crone's tank lost life in a steady drain while Mother's tank fell in massive, frightening chunks.

But Hecate was going down. As the last percent on Maiden vanished, I started to breathe easy.

Instead, she only began to glow green.

"Maiden's healing! Finish the other two, now!"

Klein directed the DPS on Maiden to the other two bosses, but I was left alone as her whips cracked all around me. My health sloughed off with each blow: 50%, then 35%, then 20%…

I popped a Healing Crystal, buying myself a short reprieve, but I was alone there. All the others had gone to attack Mother and Crone. If I had died there, in front of Maiden, I would've died without a single eye on me—a fitting death for any sinner, for someone who had blood on his hands from his own selfishness.

But that wasn't to be that day. As blades and maces glowed with the power of Sword Skills, or with the bloody red light from the lava below, Mother and Crone's health trickled down, and the bosses shattered, one after the other.

When Hecate's death cry went out, I was still alive. I had only 15% health left, but I lived. A few muted cheers went through the group after that harrowing fight, but Klein was quick to try to lift everyone's spirits.

"Good work, everyone! Grats on loot, and we'll be in touch about clearing Floor 35. Be safe, and see you out there."

A couple people looked excited; maybe they received major upgrades. I didn't get anything, and that suited me fine. I didn't care for earning items on the backs of the dead or wounded. I just wanted to be done.

I reached into my belt for a Teleport Crystal. Others would find the stair to Floor 35 and consider exploring, but I'd had enough excitement for one day.

"Ah, Kirito, do you have a minute?"

That was Klein, who blocked the walkway, as if that meant something against a Teleport Crystal.

"I'm trying to remember if we discussed when we were going to burn the boss. Was it really 15%? It seems awfully high, but if you thought it was 15%, that must've been what we agreed on."

"You don't need to beat around the bush with me, Klein. We said we'd burn it down at 10%. I changed the strategy, and only the raid leader should do that. I'm sorry."

He shook his head and sighed.

"This isn't about respect for leadership. The other tanks weren't ready for that. You could've gotten someone killed out there."

"Schmitt was going to get someone killed out there, switching early before anyone was prepared. And if we couldn't kill the boss, you'd have called the wipe and reset it before anyone was put in serious danger."

"Yeah? Have you looked at your health lately? You still could've let Schmitt switch in after you burned your Healing Crystal. You can't do this all yourself, Kirito. We've got to work together. If people know or think something different from everyone else, and they don't share that, it puts everybody in jeopardy."

"I know the consequences of not sharing information. You don't have to remind me."

Klein pursed his lips and nodded.

"Right, sorry, I know you do. Take care, Kirito. See you at the next strategy meeting, yeah?"

I nodded, and I held the Teleport Crystal over my head.

"Teleport: Londinium."

The lava pit and floating walkways disappeared around me. In their place came a stone road flanked by sidewalks and grassy fields. It was a pleasant warmth, not the oppressive heat of the lava pit, and I closed my eyes for a moment just to feel the wind on my face.

"Rough fight today?"

My eyes snapped open, settling on a girl with short dark hair, blue armor, a lighter blue skirt, and boots up three-quarters of the way to her knees.

"It wasn't too bad. A little rough at the end, that's all."

"Anything nice drop?"

I shook my head.

"You have terrible dice."

"It's fine. I get by with what I have. It'd be wrong to ask for more since there are some people…, well, you know."

She nodded, and she turned away from the teleport plaza.

"Let's go home."

Sachi started down the stone road, and I followed after her.

#

Sachi lived because she converted herself to a crafting build.

SAO restricted characters to a limited number of skill slots, with more unlocking at higher levels. For progression raiders, that left little room for useful professions—for crafting or appraising items, for instance. With Sachi picking up the skills we lacked, she could still be useful to the guild without putting herself in jeopardy.

She opened a stand in the Londinium market on Floor 25, making cloth armor and brewing potions now and then. With the help of another merchant I knew, she started making a decent amount of money for the guild. That's how we were able to afford our guild house: a Roman-style villa on the outskirts of Londinium. It was a bit far from the teleport plaza, but that way we could buy it on the cheap and still have enough living space for the six of us.

Of course, the others never set foot in that house.

In fact, the first time I saw the villa was when I came back from that massacre. Sachi had given us all the coordinates to come back to, but I was the only one who came. She'd opened the door, hoping to welcome us all.

"Kirito? Why are you—where are the others?"

My throat closed up. I couldn't speak; I couldn't breathe. I couldn't even look at her, but I saw the tears well up in her eyes anyway. She lost her balance and fell against the doorframe. I tried to catch her; we only ended up catching each other.

I told her the truth that day: that I was a hated and despised beater, that I outleveled them all, and that's why I survived. I'd thought for sure she would hate me, that she would despise me, but Sachi did nothing of the kind.

"You may have made a mistake, but you were looking out for us. You watched over and protected all of us. If not for you, we could've died in that dungeon you found us in. You gave us a chance. Don't blame yourself."

That was too kind of her, really, but I needed that kindness from her. I needed it as I shed every tear my eyes could muster.

"Don't blame yourself. If anything, I should've been there. I should've been there…."

If Sachi had been there, she'd have died, too. She wasn't the one who deserved blame.

But, grief isn't a logical thing. I'd learned that well. All we could do was keep going, no matter what was behind us, because the future was always ahead.

What was ahead of Sachi and me was the house we shared, the official home of Black Cats of the Full Moon, all two of us. As I said, it was built in the style of an ancient Roman villa. The first thing you'd notice was the hole in the roof, hanging over a square pool. Apparently it was meant to collect rainwater for safe drinking. In this day and age, it only contributed to a slight draft. For summer, though, that wasn't so bad.

Further in, there was an interior courtyard, lined with white columns. Most of the rooms around the courtyard opened to the outside, with just a little shade from an overhanging roof. The Romans, I'd learned, put a premium on their scenery. The courtyard provided a nice view for each of the bedrooms, all six of them.

A pity there were only two of us left, then.

From time to time, I'd thought the house was too big and cavernous to enjoy. It must've been like what parents feel when their children move away and go to university or find jobs elsewhere. Sachi and I had never had the pleasure of the rest of the guild in that house, but it still felt too large. It had too much room, enough to be haunted with their spirits. Sachi didn't feel that way, though:

"It'd be hard to find another place in town, and as long I'm working in Londinium, it's good to be on this floor. Besides, I think the others would want us to use this house. This was something we all had a part of, and I don't want to be away from them."

And so, Black Cats' villa had become our home.

It was still rather early that afternoon—the raid had been planned to go two more hours if need be—but Sachi and I agreed it was a good time for dinner. The market was slow on Sundays, and I was ready to relax for the rest of the day. Exploring Floor 35 would make for a long, intense day come morning.

Neither of us spent much time leveling Cooking, so dinner was a set of unprepared foods. SAO was a lot of things, but it would seldom kill you from starvation. Lots of foods were more or less ready to eat, and Cooking was more of a luxury—an enjoyable luxury, but a luxury nonetheless. That day, we dined on skewers of hog meat and carrots. The meat was, to be honest, a little thin and unfulfilling. We might've done better feeding the carrots to the pigs before butchering them.

Our dining room wasn't particularly comfortable, either. Apparently the Romans liked to lie on their sides while eating, so instead of a low, Japanese-style table or even a Western-style set with chairs, all we had were three low couches and some iron endtables. It was an off-putting experience, even after a couple months to get used to it.

"So, tell me about this boss today."

That was Sachi, at my left. We sat on the same couch usually, leaving the other two reserved.

"It was kind of a council-type boss. A little unusual in that it couldn't actually move; you just had to tank it from three different sides. Nothing too weird. I'd call it a simple test of tank execution and a DPS check. I liked the soft enrage mechanic, though."

"What was that?"

I scoffed a bit.

"You're awfully interested in the raids all of a sudden."

When Sachi was unhappy about something, she could make a whiny, petulant expression.

"It's boring in the market some days. Can't you give a girl a little excitement once in a while?"

"It's not any less tedious in the raids, either. Like today, there was a lot of emphasis on tank execution, but the DPS just had to follow the boss and not run off the walkways into the lava. If you already knew how to execute a good rotation, there really wasn't much to learn."

"But what about this soft enrage?"

"Ah, that was about the walkways. Hecate would try to destroy the walkways when she teleported, and if you left her alone, she would collapse them and gain a stacking damage buff. Each time she succeeded, it would make it more and more difficult to get to her, and the tanks wouldn't be able to tank her as long without having to switch, which is what made her teleport in the first place. It was a simple concept fight, but you had to be really careful about figuring out all those little details to make it work."

"You make it all sound so simple."

"It got a little tense. Hecate was an angry woman with a whip, and I'd just as soon never see again. Knowing this game, I'm probably not so lucky."

I put down an empty plate and looked across the couch, back at Sachi.

"What about you? There had to be something interesting that happened at the market today."

She pursed her lips.

"I don't know about interesting so much as weird. I had a customer come by looking to make a stack of paralysis potions."

"Paralysis potions? I don't know anyone who uses those except for orange players."

"That's what I thought, too! So I was real concerned about it. A couple of the other merchants took an interest, also, but the man explained he was trying to become a beast tamer, and he was hoping to paralyze some birds to tame a lizard they were hunting. He wanted to use paralysis because he believed if he indiscriminately killed the birds, he might kill a lizard by mistake, and then none of them would approach him to be tamed."

"Stands to reason, I guess."

"But he was kind of bad at math. He didn't realize he had mats for only 19 potions instead of 20. When I told him that, he wanted to cancel the transaction completely, saying he had to go back and farm one more herb so it would be an even 20."

"What? You're joking."

"I'm not! It was the strangest thing I'd ever seen. I'm not sure if I want him to come back."

I shrugged at that.

"People are superstitious, especially in games. I knew someone who was convinced that crossing his eyes and singing would get him better rolls on loot."

Sachi giggled.

"Ducker was the same way! We used to play Day of Sagittarius VIII, and he liked the most RNG attacks you could ever imagine. He thoroughly believed he was lucky, but only as long as he had this plastic, glow-in-the-dark ring on his finger."

"Where on earth did he get that?"

"He said a girl gave it to him when he was seven. They were playing in an arcade, and when he put that on his finger, he got the high score on some shooting game, so he held on to it ever since."

"I think he missed the point there."

"He usually did. There was a girl who would come by the club room from time to time, looking for help with her laptop, and she always asked for Ducker. He never got the hint."

Sachi smiled during this reminiscence, but her gaze went to one of the empty couches opposite us, and she soon went quiet. It was like this a lot, ever since we'd moved into this place. Sometimes, the others would come up in conversation. At first, it was awkward, almost taboo, but after abruptly changing the subject a few times, I think we both got tired of avoiding it. It happened. It was reality. Not talking about them wouldn't change the fact that they were dead.

Sachi went on.

"Well, if that man comes back, I guess I'll have something interesting to talk about tomorrow."

"You're doing good work. Didn't you have some KoB people buy some potions the other day? There aren't many alchemists people trust not to scam them."

She nodded, but after that it was quiet again.

We spent the next couple hours tending to the house. There was a garden out back that we used for her farming. That way, Sachi could sell some potions on her own, without needing mats from customers. Still, even that chore didn't take long, and we retired early.

There were six bedrooms in the villa, one for each member of the guild, but Sachi and I only used one. It was technically my room. Sachi kept a chest of belongings in the adjacent bedroom, which we considered hers. How we came to share one bedroom is a bit of a story: the nights in that villa were deathly silent, and even sleeping in adjacent rooms, it was uncomfortable for us. Sachi was the one who suggested it—that we sleep in the same room, at least—and I'd agreed. Neither of us wanted to force the other to sleep in a cot or futon, however—and SAO had very limited options for either. So, we began sleeping in the same bed, too.

Let me be clear: the relationship between Sachi and me wasn't what I'd call romantic. There were no blown kisses or awkward giggling. There wasn't a momentous confession scene involving heartfelt notes tucked into each other's shoes. Given that our boots were stored in inventory at night, such a thing would've been thoroughly impossible.

That's not to say Sachi was an unattractive girl. I don't know if Sachi ever had such thoughts, but for my part, it was hard enough to feel I deserved even this tenuous companionship. We were just a couple of broken-hearted people, trying to survive in a deadly world. The unspoken bond we shared was enough, really. I couldn't imagine it going any further.

After all, you're always at least one secret away from truly knowing a person.

And I liked the Sachi I knew well enough.

As Sachi lay beside me that night, I looked across the bed at her sleeping face. It was tense, I thought, and perhaps a bit stressed. There was a furrowing of her brow that looked the opposite of relaxed, the opposite of the way a sleeping person should be. I had to wonder: did Kayaba really go to the trouble to model how a sleeping person's face should look, based on how they felt, on what dreams came to them?

I couldn't know, but I reached across the space between Sachi and me anyway. I brushed some hair from her eyes, tucking it behind her ear.

"YAH!"

And she sat straight upright, eyes wide. She panted and heaved, and she stared curling up into a ball.

"What is it? What happened?"

She whimpered a bit, burying her head between her chest and her knees. I slid over, holding her lightly, and asked a different question.

"Who was it today?"

She wiped her cheek with her hand and spoke haltingly.

"It was…Tetsuo. He always used to smile, remember?"

I remembered. He was one of the most cheerful forwards I'd met in the game. Most were aggressive and moody to a fault, but Tetsuo used to swing his mace at enemies with an apologetic look of gratitude, as if to say, "I'm sorry, but I do need to kill you for money and experience, so please take this mace to your skull with my sincerest apologies." He was a good guy. He deserved better.

I rubbed Sachi's back, trying to calm her down. I didn't say anything. If she wanted to talk about it more, she would. She did.

"I was watching through a doorway, and he was surrounded by dwarves. He kept swinging at them, fending them off, but every time he did, he looked to the doorway—at me—and said something like,

" 'Sachi? You're coming to help me, aren't you?'

"And all the while he had that pleasant smile on his face, like he believed I'd come to help him, absolutely. But I just stood there. My feet wouldn't move. Even as the dwarves hacked and picked at his body, he kept smiling at me!"

I pulled her closer, trying to damp the trembling in her body.

"It's all right. It's over. You're safe now. You're with me."

She sniffled and nodded at that, but she turned her head away from me and stared at the wall.

"Still, I should've been there, too."

#

The next morning, I found out the raiding guilds had already set up camp at the first town on Floor 35, the German-style village of Mishe.

I spent most of that morning exploring the vicinity around town. There was an interesting outdoor dungeon to the north—the "Forest of Wandering." The Forest had some arcane puzzle-based navigation mechanic, but even some hardcore raiders were trying to work out a system, for there were Giant Bees in some parts of the zone. Bees dropped several useful crating mats, inlucing Beeswax, a critical ingredient for high-end threads used in Tailoring. If Sachi had some Wax-coated Thread, she could make a fortune.

But at that point, I was starting to wonder: if I messaged Sachi about that, would she be excited? Or would she say, "That's really nice, isn't it," and go back about her business?

Something wasn't right with Sachi. To that point, I hadn't paid a lot of attention to her nightmares. Why? Because I had nightmares, too. You would have to be a monster not to have nightmares, not to be affected in some way, by what happened to the rest of your own guild.

But it was to the point where I didn't even need to ask her what it was about. I knew.

Sachi had stopped thinking hard about her work at the market, either. That incident with the paralysis potion man was something far from her mind until she took a moment to remember it. She asked a lot of questions about the raid, and in great detail, at that.

She must've wanted to feel connected to something. That had to be it. Ever since the rest of the guild had died, we'd lived together, but the cloud of the others' deaths had hung over us, casting a shadow. I felt it all the time. I felt it when Schmitt was so selfish and cowardly—the way I had been then, when I didn't speak up loud enough, when I didn't out myself as a beater, and the rest of the guild died for it.

But Sachi felt it differently. They were all her friends. They were her friends more than mine, honestly. She knew them longer. She knew them in real life. They'd seen each other day in and day out for months, maybe years.

I'd told myself I didn't deserve more than what I had, but maybe Sachi wanted that, and I was the one pushing her away.

While some of the raiding guilds amassed to get a look at the field boss (a 20-meter-tall ant that breathed flammable acid), I took the teleport gate back to Londinium. Though the teleport plaza there was far from our home, it was only a short walk to the market: a collection of exhibition halls and covered walkways, where anyone could shop even in rain or snow without getting wet. In the summer, the market NPCs kept the windows open for ventilation, and it was needed. Seasons in SAO were mild compared to the real world, but you could still build up a sweat inside one of the market's halls in August. That day was no exception.

In fact, as I wiped a bead of sweat from my brow, one of the merchants called to me.

"I think you've taken a wrong turn. Shouldn't you be on Floor 35?"

That bald-headed man with a huge grin was Agil. His stand was small, but Agil would say that was because he didn't need a lot of space to do his work. Smiths needed a furnace and anvil at bare minimum, but Agil's specialization in Weapon and Armor Appraisal meant all he needed was a piece of inventory in front of him to do his work. SAO was a remarkably opaque game; it wouldn't even tell you what the stats were on an item that dropped, and only someone with Appraisal skills could do the job. Agil's skill level, and presence in the raiding community, meant that he was a preferred contractor for this service.

But just because he was valued didn't mean I had to put up with his jabs—not without giving back in kind.

"Shouldn't you be up there, too? Or do you like hanging out ten floors behind?"

"Most of my clientele lives here. There's a theory going around that every 25 floors is a particularly hard boss and a particularly large city, too. Maybe I'll move when we get up to 50 or so."

He looked to his left, where a smith had crowded the space next to Agil with an extensive collection of knives.

"I don't need a lot of room to work, but it'd be nice to have some space to myself."

"Not too much. You don't want to live in a cavern. Take it from me."

Agil nodded at that.

"How's Sachi doing?"

"She's all right, I think. Haven't you seen her today?"

"A little bit in the morning, but…."

He pointed across and down the row of stands. At Sachi's, there was only a folded up card on display:

Back at 13:00.

"She's gone to lunch?"

Agil shook his head at that.

"I don't think so. Most of us eat at our stands; we can't afford to lose the business. Sachi used to do the same, until a couple weeks ago."

"A couple weeks?"

"She always comes back at one o'clock sharp. Relax. Klein told me you've been a little touchy lately."

"What do you mean? Is this about that tank from DDA?"

"A little of that, yeah. Not to say you didn't have good reason to ream him out, but as a solo player, you have to be careful. A lot of the raiding guilds would rather do everything with their own members, or members from guilds who participate in common information sharing."

"Since when does DDA do 'common information sharing'?"

Agil grimaced, conceding the point, but he went on.

"They still manage to complain about solo players hoarding information and items for themselves. They'd just as soon as not deal with someone like you. Humiliating a top tank and putting a raid in jeopardy gives them ammunition."

"I've been hated for worse things by better people. I'll manage."

"I know you will. Next time you need someone to watch your back, give me a call, all right?"

"Will do, Agil. Will do."

I glanced back again at Sachi's stand.

"Well, I guess I should go track her down. I wanted to take her out to lunch; as it is, I may only have enough time to tell her about the beeswax on Floor 35. She'll need to know about that for thread."

Agil frowned at that, and I knew right away there was something wrong.

"What? What's with that look?"

"Kirito, Sachi gave up Tailoring."

"You're joking. Did she drop Alchemy too?"

"No, she still makes potions for people, but she specifically told me she was dropping Tailoring for now, until she had the skill slots open to pick it back up again."

"Skill slots don't open up spontaneously. You only get new ones as you level."

"You know that, and I know that. Sachi knows that, too."

So that's how it was. Sachi had said it often: that she felt she should've been there. In reality, it never would've made a difference. I would've tried to protect her to the end, but that chest trap triggered too many dwarf guardians and elementals. More likely than not, she would've died there, and I never would've been able to do a thing about it.

But just because that was the truth didn't mean Sachi believed it. It didn't mean she would feel totally comfortable with the life she'd chosen to lead. I'd thought this was just about feeling connected; it was much more than that.

My suspicions led me to track Sachi down through our guild list. Sachi was still on the same floor, but at the outskirts of the city, where the wilderness began. That in itself was dangerous: Floor 25 had had a lot of traps when we first arrived. The raiding guilds had been through hell just to get close enough to see Londinium on their maps. Most of the nearby areas had been thoroughly cleared; as long as she stayed close to town, there shouldn't have been too much danger. That said, Londinium, like its historical counterpart, sat on the banks of a river, and Sachi's coordinates were just upstream. Rivers were dangerous. Water greatly reduced player mobility, and it made dodges and other acrobatics ineffective. A pack of mobs you could easily defeat on land might kill you just as quickly in the water.

Sure enough, to my horror, I found Sachi wading ankle-deep in the river. Her boots wouldn't take durability damage just from that, but she was entirely at the mercy of whatever came after her. Sachi had stopped trying to level on Floor 18. The mobs on Floor 25 were all at least 10 levels higher. Having neglected her combat skills for so long, she wouldn't have a chance!

"Sachi!"

She jerked in surprise, and only then did I see what she was wielding: a one-handed sword and a bronze shield. That was better for staying alive in one-on-one combat, but it would prolong battles and make her susceptible to getting ganged up on by a pack she couldn't hope to kill.

And what was worse, something was coming: a fin stuck out of the water. The veins within ran red and shimmered.

I ran from the path to the river's bank, and I offered my hand.

"Put your weapons away; get out of the water, before that mob gets here!"

But Sachi shook her head, and she waded deeper, up to her knees.

I had no choice but to go after her. This was exactly what I wanted her to avoid. This was the kind of combat she should've been afraid of.

But the mob had closed too fast. It reared its head out of the water, revealing the sharp, man-piercing teeth of a giant Brown Trout. Sachi crouched down, into a fighting stance, and she said something utterly ridiculous:

"Be ready to switch."

"You want to do what?"

The Brown Trout wiggled its tail and lunged at Sachi, but she thrust her shield at the mob and batted it aside. Then, with her sword, she made a pair of diagonal slashes—the characteristic V-shape of a Vertical Arc.

"KEE!"

The fish squealed, and its HP dropped by about a quarter. My eyes about fell out of their sockets when I saw that! Sachi had done that much damage, with a one-handed sword, in one attack?

The Brown Trout charged again, and this time, Sachi didn't even bother to block it. She made an upward, diagonal slash from her forehand. Then, she turned her wrist over and followed with a horizontal, backhanded cut. Finally, another turn of the wrist led to a forehand slice, this time with a downward angle. It was a correct, if stilted, Sharp Nail combo attack. The Brown Trout dropped to 40%.

"Now, switch!"

That wasn't easily done in water, but I charged ahead anyway. There was no need to be fancy. At my level, against mobs on this floor, a simple Horizontal slash would do.

"KEE…!"

The Brown Trout disintegrated in a shower of light, and for both Sachi and me, a results window came up with a report of accumulated experience, col, and items.

"Can you believe it? Only 50 col for that thing? How cheap."

I let out an stunned hiss at that, but Sachi paid me no mind. She turned her sword over, admiring her reflection in its sheen.

"So, Kirito, how was your morning?"

#

On the way home, I got the full explanation from Sachi. You see, I'd thought she was in over her head. I'd thought she was crazy for going out against mobs that were so high in level, so far beyond her.

But they weren't beyond her.

Sachi had been leveling on her own—in the mornings, before she went to market; during lunch hours; and even after the market closed each day—for over two weeks before I'd discovered it. Because we controlled what was left of Black Cats' guild bank, we had an ample amount of col for just two people, enough for Sachi to buy top-notch crafted gear for her level. All that, plus some patience and dedication, had helped her catch up to Londinium, but it hadn't been easy.

"When I got started, I was really rusty. I fought one of the mountain trolls on Floor 21. You remember them, right? Well, when the troll enraged, I had to burn through a healing crystal within the first ten seconds! It was scary to realize I was so unprepared. After that, I went way lower, back down to Floor 15. I needed a lot more breathing room, and I found it there. Still, I'm glad you found me out. Now I can ask for your help."

Sachi wasn't a total noob to the game. She'd played a couple MMOs in the past, so she was familiar with all the basic concepts. It was the VR technology that made combat too real for her. It was the natural instinct for self-preservation that filled her with terror whenever a pack of mobs faced her down.

At least, that's how I'd remembered Sachi before. The Sachi I met by the river was different. She still griped when the mob didn't drop as much loot as she wanted, but that was all. The fear in her had gone. An unexpected mob pack was more of a minor inconvenience than a serious threat. It was no more worth comment than having a crosswalk signal change in front of you, making you wait for traffic before you could get on your way. That's how Sachi had reacted, and that's how she felt herself. Being afraid was just one of those obstacles that would tire her out or wear her down if she let it get to her. That's what she told me.

"I just couldn't do it anymore. I'd sit in the market all day, nice and safe. A lot of the people there have contact with the raiding guilds, but not all of them have been there. They think they understand, but they don't. They hear about the raids, they read the casualty reports, and they pretend it can't happen to them. A lot of them don't have dead friends haunting them in their sleep. They don't see ghosts in their dreams!"

Sachi said the last sentence so forcefully her whole body shook. I offered her some comfort:

"Hold on to my hand. It's okay."

She took it gingerly, but we kept our linked hands between us, out of sight from casual onlookers, and Sachi went on:

"I don't have the right to be so safe. I made a choice to go with them when we left Starting City. That was the right choice. I just didn't have the strength to see it through then. I'm no stronger now, either. I just know that I can't be afraid of that anymore. You're going out there every day, Kirito. I don't know what I'd do if you didn't come back, or how I'd feel if I knew I could've been there to help you, and I wasn't.

"I'm tired of being afraid. I'm tired of that weight pressing down on me. And you know what? I think that's good. It's good that I'm tired of it because now, I can do something. Now, I'm so tired of it that I can't even feel that fear anymore. I could look in the mouth of a dragon and laugh! And that's good, on the one hand, because it means I can do things I couldn't bring myself to do before. But it's also bad. Maybe I'm not afraid even when I should be. That's why it's better that you found me, I think. You can tell me when I'm about to do something that would get me killed, and I need that voice from someone. So, please, Kirito. Please help me."

It was a passionate, heartfelt sentiment, but there was something nagging at me, and I tried to give that worry form:

"Help you do what? What is it you what to do, ultimately? Do you want to be like the guild was, picking at dungeons on lower floors? Or do you want something else?"

"I want to raid. I want to be a part of the solution to this game, like you are. I wouldn't be able to stand it if I were anything less."

That's what troubled me—not what she wanted, but why she wanted it. Without a doubt, she was eager to impress upon me how important this was to her:

"I want to know when new sword skills unlock. I want to know how I should integrate them into my rotation. I need to learn from you good strategies for crystal management, and how to work with other forwards in a raid. I know I have a lot to learn, Kirito, but this is something I need to do."

"And you want me to be the one to teach you? You want me to be responsible for you? If I make one mistake—"

"You're not going to do that again. This isn't like before, and you're not solely responsible for me, whether I live or die. We're responsible for each other, right? So let's do this together, Kirito. Let's put all of that behind us."

Put it behind us, huh?

I don't think I realized until then how much guilt I still carried with me. The end of Black Cats had left a scar on my heart, a scar that I needed to heal just as much as Sachi needed to heal hers.

And if I did my best to teach Sachi how to be a tanking forward, if I stayed honest with myself about her capabilities, I wouldn't fail her, right? If in the end she did die in a raid, as long as I did my best…

No, who was I kidding? It would crush me. Even if I did everything right, my heart would collapse from the shock, just as a giant star collapses to a black hole at the end of its life.

But if I said no, it would leave Sachi on her own, and few places were safe in SAO, let alone safe to go on your own. And if she couldn't trust me to help her then, how could I ever be there for her in the future?

"It's okay, Kirito. I understand."

After I'd stayed quiet for so long, Sachi started to take my silence the wrong way.

"You're right to doubt me. Just because I've forced myself not to be scared doesn't mean it won't happen again. Maybe no one should rely on me. It's hard to protect people when you're afraid for yourself. I'm sorry I asked all this of you. I just—"

"Sachi."

"What?"

"You shouldn't go to the river anymore."

Her eyes widened, and she looked downcast.

"I see. So it's just as I thought."

"If you were thinking that the river is a terribly inefficient grinding spot, then you'd be right. There's a spawn point for walrus herds on the coast. The raiding guilds used to use it as a good site for XP farming. Let's head over there and see what you can do, all right?"

She gasped, putting her hands together in surprise.

"Oh…okay!"

With that, I turned the two of us to the north, but Sachi pulled away from me, giving me a sharp look.

"Were you trying to be cool, pretending to reject me like that?"

Maybe I just had to see how excited she would be. And it was worth it. If teaching Sachi how to tank would let her hold on to that joy and excitement, maybe that would be enough for both of us—enough for us to move on and heal.

That I believed such a thing should show you how desperate I was—how desperate we both were.

After all, no one in SAO ever used a sword to heal wounds.

Auld Lang Syne updates every two weeks, so look forward to the next chapter on Saturday, August 23, 2014, at 1 PM EDT (10 AM PDT), after the official stream of SAO II Episode 8.

Next time: "Iskandariya." With Sachi learning the ropes from Kirito, it's time to get her a tryout for raiding, but Asuna is determined to test more than just Sachi's fighting skill.

For notes and commentary on this chapter and others, check out the Auld Lang Syne thread on Sufficient Velocity.