You could call it a measure of consideration for Kirito, too—when he spoke with him, Kayaba Akihiko had talked in riddles, and only Kirito could see the strategy guide, so that day only a handful of people caught the true meaning of what Kayaba Akihiko had wanted to convey.
But choosing to go into seclusion at a time like this was extremely unwise. Kirito had already become something of a legendary-hero figure, and for him now to take the strategy guide and vanish into seclusion without a word was bound to saddle him with a mountain of blame.
"Quit talking nonsense! Didn't you hear what Kayaba Akihiko said—beating the final boss at any point counts as clearing the game. Knowing this guy, he's most likely worked out the optimal route and wants to take on the challenge by himself; there's nothing he loves more than shouldering everything alone."
There were those like Klein who spoke up for Kirito—by and large, they were all his friends.
Because they had outright lost Heathcliff, Asuna, and Kirito—the three greatest combat forces—the Knights of the Blood's presence within the Clearers had plummeted, and likewise the whole of the Clearers had fallen into a leaderless state.
Even though plenty of Yimi's cooking was still in reserve, in a situation like this hardly anyone went off to explore new floors for the time being. Everyone seemed to be waiting for something, though it wasn't clear exactly what.
"That may be so, and we do trust his character enough that he'd stake his life on a challenge—but what reason does he have to go alone? And if something happens to him, the server's one and only strategy guide really is gone for good."
"Yeah, and Vice Commander Asuna has vanished too, and taken little Yimi and little Yui with her..."
"Come to think of it, that kid looked pretty cute dressed up as a girl. You think there's a chance—I mean, maybe she's actually a girl who's just been dressing as a boy this whole time...?"
Before he could even finish, the man he was talking to cut him off, ignoring him. "Anyway, there really were a lot of suspicious points that day. The Floor 65 boss's behavior was just too bizarre—that was the first time ever, wasn't it?"
"That can only come down to Kayaba Akihiko himself. Who else could design garbage like that?"
A player with a rather hot temper picked up the thread. "Didn't he say something earlier about this game being his childhood dream? Then it's obviously all made the way he imagined it as a kid."
"I get it—Kayaba Akihiko was walking through a maze as a kid, ran into a ghost, got slapped by the ghost, and somehow it felt pretty good, which is why we ended up with that earlier mechanic where the boss slaps you and heals you instead."
"Then how do you explain the floors before that?"
"Floor 1 was a reflection of Kayaba Akihiko as a kid being chased down by a dog wielding a horse-cutting saber..." The doubts that should have turned toward Kirito had inexplicably become malice aimed at Kayaba Akihiko himself.
Kayaba Akihiko, watching them from his god's-eye view: "..."
...
Floor 22 was a fine place to live in seclusion, with green woods and a lake; the settlement was less a town than a hamlet.
The cabin among the trees, bought with the savings Asuna and Kirito had put away together, wasn't large in scale, but it was more than roomy enough to house four people.
Squeak~ squeak~
"You—! I just bought that sofa and you've already clawed it up!" Asuna, who'd been cooking a moment ago, scooped Yimi up off the sofa and raised her ladle in a pose that threatened to bonk Yimi on the head.
Run, run!
Yimi hurriedly wriggled free and darted off to hide behind Yui.
Asuna wasn't really angry, though—a game sofa couldn't actually be clawed to ruin like that anyway.
"Good morning."
Kirito came walking out of the room with a yawn.
"Morning. Are you going fishing again today?"
"Yeah. I made plans with the old-timer." Kirito sat down at the dining table, giving himself a little time to wake up.
Where there was social contact, it meant that sooner or later an information broker would track down their location, which was probably rather unwise—so when he went out he wore another outfit with an effect like the Life-Steal Outfit's, one that likely made him look like nothing more than an ordinary little girl.
But being found was, in truth, only a matter of time; he had to think through what to do from here on out.
It was only now, too, that he realized: when a person sets down one heavy burden, what they try to shoulder is often another heavy burden. Apart from the several thousand players he'd effectively abandoned, out in the real world he still had a mother and a little sister who looked after him—and that was his greatest guilt of all, as well as...
"Asuna, tell me about your life in the real world?"
"Eh? Sure."
The forward question didn't make Asuna uncomfortable; she sat down across from Kirito and took his hand.
Only she could understand just how much resolve that boy had summoned when he said the word 'seclusion.'
Three days had already gone by. To carry a burden in her heart on one hand and savor happiness on the other—if not for that selfish guilt, how wonderful it would be for days like these to go on forever. Right now, Kayaba Akihiko was surely off somewhere letting out a sly, triumphant snicker.
"My father is actually the CEO of RECT Inc...."
"RECT? Isn't that—?"
"Don't interrupt me." Asuna gave his foot a light stamp.
"Sorry."
"My mother is a university professor, a woman who became a true social elite by her own effort—but she's far too strict with me and my brother, so strict that she's already mapped out our future schools and maybe even our marriages... Come to think of it, I actually got into this game by borrowing my brother's gear."
By unspoken agreement, the two of them didn't talk about what would happen if they couldn't return to reality; that was a selfish, terrifying topic.
Flop~
Discovering that Asuna had no intention of disciplining her after all, Yimi popped back out again, planted both hands on the table, and looked up at them, puzzled.
"You don't want to go home anymore? Didn't I already tell you—it was the backstage shit-cooker?"
Yui ran up behind Yimi and gave her a tug.
Asuna and Kirito exchanged a glance and smiled helplessly. "What lies before us happens to be a canyon that simply can't be crossed."
And that obstacle had never once been a difficulty of numbers.
"It's getting late. Play with Yui for now; tonight I'll bring the two of you back a big fish." Kirito tousled the two little girls' heads and, fishing tackle in hand, walked out.
"Take your breakfast!" Asuna hurried to fetch it for him.
"Mmh..."
Yimi glanced at the system, already 47% reassembled.
It was Kirito himself who'd told her that as long as there was a road in front of him he would keep walking it—so why had he suddenly given up? Was it because he couldn't win?
After she'd finished seeing off breakfast, Asuna propped up her cheek and watched the two little girls. "I can keep you two company the whole day today. Is there anything you'd like to play?"
"Nope." Yimi walked glumly back into her own room.
Asuna watched the tail swishing behind her until the door closed, then let out another helpless sigh.
"I'll go check on her, Mama." Yui chased after her; the two of them shared a room.
The moment she stepped inside, she saw Yimi take out a Teleport Crystal, that symbol of troublemaking.
"What are you about to do, Yimi?" Yui hurriedly seized her by the wrist.
"I'm going back to find the backstage shit-cooker, and then finish him off." Yimi channeled her magic straight in.
"You can't—we—"
Before she could even finish, the scene in front of Yui switched away.
This time it even skipped the step of traveling there; they arrived directly inside the GM Emergency Login room.
"What are you trying to do? As b— as programs, the two of us have no right to interfere with this."
But last time, Yimi had operated this very thing.
The next moment, The World's fist slammed without the slightest hesitation onto the stone platform.
They'd given up, so the kitty would beat the bad guy for them!
Under Yui's stunned gaze, no warning window popped up—exactly the same as the random mashing from before.
But on the program's side, the earlier developer log was locked onto, and Kayaba Akihiko—who held the highest authority in the entire game—was, with a wholly blank look on his face, dragged directly up in front of their faces.