The Real Thing

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/8041201.

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: Gen
Fandom: Sword Art Online
Relationship: Asada Shino | Sinon & Kirigaya Kazuto | Kirito
Character: Kirigaya Kazuto | Kirito, Asada Shino | Sinon
Additional Tags: Past Torture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, GGO Arc,
Recovery, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder -
PTSD, Flashbacks, POV Second Person, Present Tense, very short
chapters
Series: Part 2 of Gilded Hero
Stats: Published: 2016-09-15 Chapters: 6/6 Words: 953

The Real Thing

by dakre

Summary

A year on, and Kirito still hasn't talked about it.

Notes

Sequel/Epilogue to Gilded Hero

(Please read Gilded Hero first, or this won’t make any sense.)
 //December 7th, 2025

You approach Kikuoka about giving insider info on SAO because you can't let yourself (or Asuna)
be beholden to anyone ever again.

You don't have money in this world, and no skills in a trade Kikuoka wants. You feel like a hooker,
lifting your skirts to leave yourself bare and naked. Take me.

These dealings with Kikuoka have been as hidden from Asuna as you can make them. If she knew,
she'd try to take some of the burden. You can't let her. You can't you can't you can't. (You're
ashamed.)

When Kikuoka calls on you to help with a murder case, it's a relief.
 //December 13th, 2025, 14:00

When you log into GGO the first thing you notice is the weight. It's a familiar weight that you
haven't felt in half a year and you can't help but look.

The walls around you are mirror smooth and you almost know the person staring back at you. Long
black hair, crisp white clothes, soft eyes on soft cheeks.

A hand on your shoulder and you spin into the cold wall behind you. He towers over you and asks
about your rare "F-1300" avatar and you can't bring yourself to object. Does it matter if you're a guy
here? Did it ever matter?

You run.

The floor isn't granite and the tap of shoes to ground isn't the slap of bare feet, but the whistles and
calls all come in the same tones and you can't breathe.

You slam into hard muscle hidden under green cotton and you crash to the ground in a tangle of
limbs and hair. Weight presses down on you, hair in your mouth, cold floor beneath you. Metal
clinks above your head and you can't see anything but green. You can't move.

"Are you alright?"

That...isn't Oberon.

"Do you need anything?"

Soft knit brushes against your skin, the winter sky above you now choppy bangs framing chips of
sea ice with cat-slits of pupil.

"I..." You had needed things, hadn't you? "I need. Gear. And the G...Governor's Office."

Your voice is all wrong and you almost fall apart again but her eyes are slit like a cat's and you cling
to that. It's not the same. You're not trapped. You can leave.
 //December 13th, 2025, 15:00

All through the shopping mall and the streets of SBC Glocken to the Governor's Office you ground
yourself in gun-smoke and concrete, light-screens and combustion engines.

With the glares of the whole preliminary arena on you you can't stop from clutching Sinon's coat,
head down, shoulders hunched.

You don't let go until Sinon pulls free of your fingers, changing room around you, to put on her
clothes. The cold steel floor only touches your feet for a moment before armour adorns you and you
only turn back around when Sinon tugs you toward the door, focus sharp and deadly on the
tournament ahead.
 //December 15th, 2025

When you'd logged into ALO for the first time, you'd picked a Spriggan because it was black.
Because of your personal preference, but also because it was as far from white and gold as you could
get. You'd been fine.

Now the sky is too blue, the grass too soft. Each gust of wind pulls on too-short hair, too-long ears.
Head to your knees, hands to your ears, you still hear that horrible, familiar background music.

"Oi."

You can't be hearing that right.

"Kirito."

You press further into your knees. A cool shadow covers you and you cringe.

...Fingers card gently through your hair.

"I'm not angry, Kirito."

Not? But you lied to her. She should be angry at you. And pain always follows that.

You look up and all you see in her eyes is sadness. Why?

The arms that wrap around you are warm, and smell of cat hair.
 //December 20th, 2025

You come back to GGO when you can't handle hearing another windchime or seeing another
wingspan. Sometimes you can't breathe ALO's air without tasting blood.

Sinon finds you and drags you by the sleeve back to her hole-in-the-wall apartment.

Guns line the walls and extra medkits pile next to the mini-fridge. Reflected neon light from the
window and the smell of old grease overtake the room.

You clutch your drink, sitting on Sinon's bunk, the one piece of furniture in the room. And you can't
speak.

"Why do you keep coming back here?"

Because of the smog. Because of the gunfire. Because of the desert. Because nothing reminds you of
then.

You can't talk to Asuna, or Suguha, or Klein. You can't. You can't handle them telling you nothing's
changed, can't handle their hesitant touches. You can't handle more pity.

But.

Sinon isn't someone who knows the hero, the black swordsman. She only knows Kirito, the killer
and lightsaber-wielder. It helps.

She's seeing who you are, after. And finds you still strong.

You breathe.

And you start to talk.

 //December 28th, 2025

Cold floor under you. Iron bars before you. Gold hair on white skirts on hard ground.

Your legs shake, your fingers numb. You can smell flowers. Hear leaves rustling.

"...the Smith and Wesson M’n’P15S is a semi-automatic rifle that shoots .223 Remington
ammunition..."

A flash of blue-and-green.

"...on average, this round has a muzzle velocity of 3,220 fps rifle rounds..."

A creak of bowstring.

"...weighing 6.63 pounds unloaded, with a barrel length of 16 inches and an overall length of 35
inches, this gun is relatively small for a .223 Remington rifle..."

The smell of cat hair and ozone.

Sinon standing next to you listing gun specs, corridor of ice behind her, cat ears flat to her head as
she glares at the woman in the cage in front of you.

You grip her coattail tight and when her eyes meet yours, you smile.

Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!