Chapter 29: The Asuna Special

POV - Kazuto

Before I knew it, I was descending a dim, stone spiral staircase that seemed to go on forever.

My arms brushed against the narrow walls—hardly wider than my shoulders—as I kept moving, my feet falling rhythmically. I felt no fatigue, only a strange, hollow focus.

By the time I realized this must be a dream, a long corridor stretched out before me, ending at a pair of heavy double doors.

I pushed through the doors—which had likely been waiting there for me to notice them—and stepped inside.

The sound of music drifted toward me.

In the center of an antique movie theater stage, a single figure stood, playing a violin with a melancholic air.

The silhouette swayed passionately, then sorrowfully, against the backdrop of a blank, illuminated screen. It was a performance that seemed to cry out, "This is what it means to be human."

"Ah, you’ve arrived, Newbie."

"Asuna..."

"I’m sure you have plenty of questions, but let’s change locations first."

She gestured with her bow toward an emergency exit beside the screen. Leaving her violin resting on a seat, she walked toward the faint light leaking through the exit.

I followed her through the door and found myself in a nostalgic, old-fashioned fast-food joint. We sat across from each other in a booth. The shop was empty—no other customers, not even a clerk—yet the table was already lined with a variety of freshly prepared dishes.

"Man, Zaizeria... this brings back memories. Back in the day, you could stuff yourself with 100% beef for less than 700 credits."

"Is this... your memory, Asuna?"

For an answer, she picked up a metal spoon and lifted a mouthful of risotto dripping with cheese.

"Yeah. This is exactly how it tasted."

"Where are we?"

"A fragment of my Soul Field. I really wanted to talk to you, Newbie, so I took the liberty of dragging you in here."

"That’s fine, but what did you want to talk about?"

"Well..."

The way she looked at me with expectant eyes felt restless. To break the tension, I took a sip from a dark glass on the table. A mismatched flavor of tea-like bitterness and a sickly, refreshing sweetness hit my tongue, practically destroying my taste buds.

"The A37 Special!"

"Are you a child!?"

"Haha, just kidding. I won’t be able to show my face for a while, so I wondered if you’d get lonely."

"That also sounds like a joke."

"Right... Newbie, give me a light."

"Fine."

I pulled a lighter from my left breast pocket—which was entirely occupied by this one item—and held it out to her.

"What’s wrong? Aren't you going to light it?"

Asuna was looking out the window. For some reason, as she watched two children playing outside, she seemed to be seeing someone else in them.

"Newbie... take care of my sisters for me."

Before I knew it, the shop was bathed in a deep crimson. The tip of her cigarette glowed a dull greyish-red.

She blew a cloud of smoke into my face. In her expression, I saw a flicker of bitter regret, but also the quiet resignation of someone who had decided this was for the best.

My consciousness... snapped awake.

I didn't know why, but I found myself running toward the outer courtyard.

I reached for the door, but my haste made me clumsy; I ended up throwing my weight against the wood before the handle had even turned.

I don't know how many times I slammed into it. I didn't even know why I was in such a panic.

I just had the feeling that if I didn't hurry, Asuna would vanish forever.

"Asuna!!"

She was there.

She was in tatters.

Her body was covered in wounds that looked as if pieces of her had been gouged out. Her signature long, silk-like hair had been hacked into a ragged short cut, with only a few stray locks remaining.

Most striking of all was the gaping hole in her abdomen. It was a clearly fatal wound; dark red fluid pulsed from it without ceasing.

A voiceless scream echoed through the facility.

My heart’s desperate plea for someone—anyone—to help seemed to pull her back to consciousness.

"Cough... Gaah... Commander... if you keep screaming like that, your throat is going to be sore for hours. That’s a critical error for a leader."

"Are you okay!? Can you... can you tell me your name!?"

"My... name is..."

"Mass-produced Phantasm Girl: Lica-series, A46."