Chapter 189: The Cybercafe "Coincidence" (Izumi's Interrogation)

I slide into my favorite, secluded corner booth at the cybercafe, the familiar scent of stale coffee, instant ramen, and overworked computer fans washing over me like a comforting, slightly grimy blanket. Freedom. Sweet, pixelated, anonymous freedom.

I pay for three hours, log into 'Aethelgard Ascendant,' and my character, 'StarlightKnight01,' materializes in the bustling main city of Aethelgard. I am paranoid. My gaze keeps flicking to my friends list. Is she online? Is 'CrimsonBladeIzumi' lurking, waiting to pounce? The list is blessedly empty. She is not on.

A wave of profound relief washes over me. Thank god. I can actually play in peace. I can grind for that new Paladin shield, I can organize my virtual bank, I can maybe even try some crafting, all without the added stress of a potential psychological interrogation from my mysterious gaming buddy.

I pull up my quest log, deciding on a nice, simple, mind-numbingly repetitive "kill ten rats" quest (except they are giant, mutant, slightly magical rats, but the principle is the same). This is what I need. Simple, achievable goals.

I am just about to head out of the city gates when it happens. The notification I was dreading.

CrimsonBladeIzumi has come online.

My heart does a frantic, panicked little stutter-step. Okay. It is fine. She is online. It is a big game. Millions of players. We are probably in different zones. She will not even know I am here.

A second later: CrimsonBladeIzumi has invited you to join their party! Accept / Decline?

My hand trembles over the mouse. She knew. She was waiting. She must have an alert set for when I log in. This is not a coincidence; this is an ambush. My "sanctuary" has been compromised. The chaos has followed me even into the digital world.

I stare at the flashing invite, my mind racing. If I decline, she will know I am avoiding her, which will just make her more curious (and possibly intensify her trolling). If I accept… I walk right into her trap.

With a sigh of profound, weary resignation, I click 'Accept.' My life is no longer my own. I am but a leaf on the chaotic winds of fate (and a trio, possibly quartet, of determined girls).

Her crimson-armored Warrior materializes beside me with a flashy, particle-effect-laden teleport. A voice chat request immediately follows. I put on the slightly sticky headset, bracing myself for the inevitable.

"Sir Rui!" Izumi's husky, amused voice fills my headset, as cheerful and unconcerned as ever. "Back so soon? Fleeing your adoring fans again? Or just craving more of my scintillating company?"

"Just… needed to slay some rats," I grumble, trying to sound nonchalant. "How did you know I was on?"

"A good warrior always knows where her favorite shield-bearing, heal-botting paladin is," she says cryptically. "Also, you are on my friends list and it literally says 'Rui is online' right here." Oh. Right. "So, running from the Goddess Guard again? Did your interrogation go poorly?"

My blood runs cold. "How did you-?"

"Please, Rui," she scoffs, and I can hear the smirk in her voice. "I saw your sister and her shadow queen charge back into the convention center like they were about to perform a citizen's arrest on you. And I saw you escape the rooftop summit like it was on fire. I am a keen observer of human drama, and you, my friend, are a one-man primetime soap opera."

She knows. She knows everything. The realization is both terrifying and, in a weird way, incredibly relieving. I am too tired to keep lying to her.

"So," she continues, her voice shifting slightly, becoming more probing, more serious. "You were the bait. You survived the dinner with Ichigo. You survived the drone. You survived the public kabedon. You are a lot more durable than you look, Rui-kun."

"Thanks, I guess," I mutter, still reeling from her accurate assessment.

"But now you have a bigger problem, do you not?" she asks, her character idly polishing her giant axe. "The big one. The 'Maybe' bomb."

I freeze. "You… you wanted Haruka to suspect you," I say, the realization hitting me. "That whole confrontation. You did that on purpose."

"Haruka-san is smart," Izumi says, her voice full of admiration. "Sharp. Analytical. She was already halfway there. I just… gave her a little nudge in the right direction. It is more fun when your rivals are intelligent, do you not think?" She is actively admitting to trolling Haruka!

"But why?!" I demand, my frustration boiling over. "Why all this? The Ichigo act? The hints? The games? What is your endgame here, Izumi? Or Ichigo? Or whoever you are!"

There is a beat of silence on the other end. Just the faint hum of the cybercafe. I think I have finally gone too far, pushed her too hard.

Then, she laughs. A low, genuine, rumbling laugh. "Oh, Rui," she says, her voice full of an exasperated fondness that makes my stomach do a confusing flip-flop. "You are so busy trying to figure out my game, you are not even paying attention to your own."

"My game?!" I splutter. "I am not playing a game! I am trying to survive!"

"Exactly," she says. "And you are doing a terrible job of it." She sighs. "Forget me for a second. Let's talk about you. The actual protagonist of this ridiculous light novel. You are caught in the middle of a classic three-way (arguably four-way, if you count me, which you probably should) romantic conflict. So. Spill."

"Spill what?!"

"The truth," she says, her voice suddenly serious again. "You cannot keep playing the terrified, clueless handler forever. It is getting old. And frankly, it is not fair to them. Or you." She proceeds to interrogate me. "So, let's break it down, RPG-style. Route One: The Sister Route. Rina. Fiery, passionate, possessive. Deeply forbidden and dramatic. High risk, high reward, potentially results in a 'Bad End' involving social ostracization and possibly jail time. But the emotional connection is clearly there. How do you really feel about her?"

"She is my sister!" I protest, my face burning. "It is… complicated!"

"Complicated," she repeats thoughtfully. "Right. Route Two: The Rival Route. Haruka. Cool, sophisticated, tsundere. The 'Ice Queen Who Thaws' archetype. Very popular. She is challenging, intelligent, and clearly finds your particular brand of awkward heroism appealing. A power couple. What is the analysis there, 'handler-kun'?"

"She… analyzes me," I grumble. "Like a science project. It is creepy."

"And Route Three," Izumi continues, ignoring my complaint. "The Childhood Friend Route. Aiwa/LUNA. The shy, gentle girl who is also a secret goddess and your long-lost promise girl. That is a potent combination, Rui. The destiny angle is a classic flag. Plus, she kissed you. Twice, if you count the accidental-on-purpose one. That is a clear sign of romantic aggression."

"It was… complicated!" I insist weakly.

"Everything is complicated with you," she laughs. "So? Rina, Haruka, Aiwa. The fiery sister, the cool rival, the shy childhood friend. You are the protagonist. You have to make a choice eventually, or the story cannot progress. Who is it going to be? My money is on the childhood friend. The 'promise' angle is always a powerful narrative driver."

She is actively, gleefully interrogating me about my own disastrous love life, laying it all bare with the casual skill of a seasoned therapist… or a master manipulator. I am so flustered, so completely disarmed, that I cannot even form a coherent denial.

"I… I… I do not know!" I finally burst out. "It is a mess! Rina is my sister! Haruka is terrifying! Aiwa is… Aiwa! And now there is you! The confusing, trolling, possibly-male-cosplayer-in-disguise gamer girl who keeps asking me out on dates!"

There is another beat of silence.

"So," Izumi says, her voice dangerously smooth and full of amusement. "You do think they were dates."

I have just accidentally confessed that I thought our takoyaki outing was a date. My brain is a traitor.

"And," she adds, her voice dropping to a low, husky purr that is pure, unfiltered Ichigo-flirtation, "you are forgetting Route Four, Rui-kun. The 'Mysterious Older Woman' route. The one who understands the game, thinks you are cute when you are flustered, and is not afraid to break the rules." She pauses, letting the implication hang in the air. "That one is always the most fun."

She is openly, blatantly flirting with me. My brain, already on fire, simply dissolves into a puddle of molten goo. I am completely, utterly, hopelessly screwed.