The plaza roared with chaos. Understandable—such a glitch on launch day was a disaster. Hachiman felt a gnawing unease about Kayaba.
(Kayaba, kicked off the project? No way…)
He recalled last night's phone call with Kayaba.
"I was hesitant, but I'm starting Sword Art Online. Exams mean I can't go hardcore."
"…I hope you find something real."
"Kayaba, stop. It's embarrassing…"
"Haha. Are you really that alone? Your stories make it hard to believe."
Two girls' faces flashed in Hachiman's mind, but he hadn't sent them friend requests yet. He brushed them aside, unaware he'd thought "not yet."
"Yeah, just Totsuka's my friend."
"I see… Well, I'm glad your issues are resolved."
"Thanks. I don't fully grasp what I'm seeking, but I'll try not to run and get to know others."
Kayaba's unexpected reply: "…I'm a bit jealous of you now."
"No way. Nothing about me is enviable."
"At my age, chasing dreams is tough. But I made SAO to pursue my truth."
"SAO will go down in history! I'm sure of it!"
"History, huh? Yeah, I think so too."
"Absolutely! I'll aim to clear it at my own pace!"
"Clear it? Nothing would make me happier as its creator."
Hachiman sensed Kayaba holding back but chalked it up to pre-launch stress.
"Gotta sleep for tomorrow. Let's talk again sometime."
"Yes… Hachiman, I believe you'll reach me, no matter what."
"Reach your level? I'm a humanities guy, you know."
"Right. See you… Hachiman."
"Later, Kayaba."
Amid the plaza's din, Hachiman reflected.
(That "see you" felt heavy… And that message: "No apologies—you'll understand.")
A chill hit him. Looking up, he saw the second floor's underside morph into crimson checkers. Stunned but hopeful for an announcement, he relaxed—then it appeared.
A towering, twenty-meter figure in a crimson hooded cape. Hachiman knew instantly: Kayaba. Their eyes met for a fleeting moment.
"Players, welcome to my world."
Kayaba's words followed: no logout. Death in-game or tampering with the NerveGear meant a lethal microwave burst. Ten minutes for power cuts, two hours for network disconnection.
(So, get our bodies to a hospital? Clever, Kayaba.)
Oddly calm, Hachiman thought of loved ones.
(Komachi, sorry for making you sad. Totsuka, don't get chummy with Zaimokuza. Will Yukino and Yui mourn me? Kawasaki, ace those exams. Orimoto, we could've been friends. Sensei, sorry for being a lousy student. Yukinoshita's sister will get me to a hospital, I'm sure.)
Survival first. Hachiman steeled himself as Kayaba instructed everyone to check their item storage. A hand mirror appeared. Light engulfed the crowd, and their avatars morphed—likely to their real appearances, per nearby chatter. Hachiman's look barely changed, so it didn't matter. The real issue was…
(This could turn into a riot. I'd manage alone, but I can't abandon Asuna. He's a newbie—I've gotta step up.)
Kayaba revealed 213 players had already died, showing footage. The crowd erupted. Hachiman yanked Asuna's hood down, hid his face, grabbed his hand, and bolted.
(There's an inn with unlimited milk and a bath. Let's hide there and plan. Can't leave Asuna—he's like a little brother. Siscon mode on, but brocon's fine for today.)
"Sorry, Asuna, think later. I know a safe inn. This place is dangerous—we might die. Let's run."
"…Okay…"
Asuna, dazed but driven by survival instinct, followed. Meanwhile, Kirito and Klein fled in the opposite direction. The paths of two boys and a girl, tied to Aincrad's fate, diverged for now.
(He's keeping up with my speed? No way a newbie's this good. A real genius?)
Praising Asuna inwardly, Hachiman kept running. A painted face caught his eye—Argo. Their gazes locked.
(Argo… Can't be too paranoid now. Cooperation's smarter. She's a girl IRL? Sorry for assuming otherwise. Painting her face in this chaos? Weird, but fast.)
While sprinting, Hachiman sent Argo a sloppy message: "To bath-milk inn." Clumsy, maybe suggestive, but his messaging skills were poor. He trusted Argo's smarts to get it. He wasn't the same isolated loner anymore, though he hadn't noticed.
At the inn, Hachiman secured it as their base. Collapsing onto a sofa, he spoke to Asuna, face-down.
"Sorry for making you run."
"…Yeah."
"This is a hidden gem. Unlimited milk, first-floor bath, only 80 col a day. Safest, comfiest spot. Let's plan here. Guy-to-guy, privacy's limited, sorry."
"…What?"
Asuna's voice was faint, barely audible. Worried he was shaken, Hachiman pressed on.
"Once we're calm, we'll plan. Together or solo, I'll support you. I'm shocked too, but don't dwell on bad stuff. No need to think—just don't go negative. I'll listen, so stay positive."
Encouraging Asuna, Hachiman wondered, Am I this kind of guy? Komachi's influence, maybe, plus the Service Club duo. Swallowing his urge to cry, he suggested a bath to relax.
Then Asuna blurted, "Bath! I want a bath!"
(He's perkier than expected, but why this bad vibe? Am I sweating?)
Reluctantly, Hachiman turned, forcing a casual tone. "Yeah, a bath'll wash your… soul…"
Before him stood an unfamiliar girl, staring curiously. Mesmerized yet confused, he scrambled to think.
(Asuna, right? But he's a guy, like Totsuka, a brother… Wait, what?)
Still reeling, he managed, "Uh… Asuna? -san?"
"Yeah, why?"
Puzzled, Asuna checked herself, realizing her true form had replaced the boyish avatar.
"Uh, Hachiman-kun, how about we sit seiza?"
"Any chance I can refuse…?"
"Nope."
"Right, sorry…"
Dragging a girl to an inn, even unknowingly, was a fact. Overwhelmed by Asuna's presence, Hachiman hadn't yet noticed he couldn't look away from her beauty.