Chapter 0:
Dragon X Digital Dream
I still wasn't used to the new ceiling.
The galaxy of lights all too close to Earth that danced and shimmered just outside my window was new, too.
Well, new was the wrong word. I had always known Tokyo was a large city, and that I'd been living in it for well on a year now. It was just that all the particulars of its size and scale had been lost in the nebulous void of “the outside.” It wasn't as if my long confinement to a hospital bed had made me forget there was a whole world out there. I just hadn't been able to see it, is all.
Now that I was at home – or what passed for it, anyway – I could see it, and the flashing, flickering glow of the skyline kept me from falling asleep.
...A lot of things kept me from sleeping, actually. Sinking under the covers with nothing to hold me up felt like I was drowning – a void of sensation that made so much as rolling over seem like a herculean task. Even after all this time, my body still felt... wrong – and the scariest thing was that I couldn't even remember what right had felt like.
So it was that I found myself staring at the ceiling – staring at the lights filtering between the blinds – staring at the school uniform I hadn't even bothered to take out of its packaging, still hanging by itself in the closet – and finally, staring at the old photos strewn haphazardly across my bedside table.
My own smiling face stared back at me. There I was, holding up a bug net and a captured beetle, looking invincible. Yuuto stood beside me with a grin to match my own, slinging one arm around my shoulder and brandishing his own net like it was Excalibur with the other. Proud friends whose names I scarce remembered huddled in all around us – and one whose face I couldn't forget sat coolly off to one side, feigning disinterest.
We'd had to retake the shot at least three times. Ayame had kept trying to wander off and go back to searching even though it was already almost dark, bitter that she hadn't been able to find any prize, insectoid or otherwise, worth memorializing. Yuuto, always eager to keep everyone pleased, had eventually managed to coax her back by offering her his own catch, too young to realize that unlike us, she'd held no fondness for things like stag beetles. She probably just hated feeling like she'd lost at anything – and that was surely why even in this photo, she refused to look directly at the camera.
Things had been so much simpler back then. The world was wider, brighter, and full of treasures. I felt like I could go anywhere or do anything – like the people around me in the there and then would surely be with me in the here and now, too.
And in some sense, they are. The stupid games you play, the secret bases you make, the dreams you think up – those things will stay with you no matter how old you grow, shaping the person you become.
But you do grow. And as you get bigger, your world gets smaller. How many of the names and faces of your elementary school classmates do you remember? How about middle school?
Yeah. Me neither. That's just the way it is, right? When you're really little, you don't really understand how to make friendships that actually last. Sure, you play together, you go to school together – but what happens when you stop doing that? One of you moves, maybe you make the occasional phone call, play some online games together, or, heaven forbid, actually write some letters once in a while – but then you both make new friends, and before you know it, you can't even remember what the old ones looked like unless you're looking right at them.
And then if you do happen to run into them again, what do you even talk about, exactly?
I didn't know. And tomorrow, when I woke up, finally unwrapped that uniform, walked into class on my own two feet, and at long last stepped onto the stage of my so-called “youth,” I still wouldn't know what to say to her. Just like how I hadn't known what to say for the last year. Was it weird for me to want to talk to her again in the first place? I mean, she probably didn't even remember me. I was probably the only one even worrying about these kinds of pointless things.
Of course, all that had nothing to do with why I was still awake. The lights shining through my window just made it difficult to sleep. That was all.
I just needed to take some time to adjust. Sure, I was starting my high school social life a year late, but it wasn't like I'd had any choice in the matter. And as for Ayame – no, as for Fushimi-san, I just needed to mind my own business. We were just going to be normal classmates now. Trying to be anything more after all this time would just be –
Ugh. I needed to stop thinking about all of this.
I'd had enough. If sleep wasn't going to come to me willingly, I'd just bring it on by force. I shut my eyes, took a deep breath, then reached up to the thin metal choker fastened around my neck, and flipped a switch. A jolt like lightning ran up my spine, and the black behind my eyelids faded to an endless expanse of white. What little feeling I still had of the world around me steadily slipped away, leaving me floating in a void of perfect stillness.
...Until, that is, a familiar voice echoed in the back of my head, and a small, winged geometic display appeared in front of me, flickering in time with the words that entered the base of my brain.
“Oneiric Link established. Good evening, Young Master Keiichi.”
“Hey, SiLVA. Been a long day, but here we are again, huh?” I greeted back. The Simulation Logistician and Virtual Assistant gave a warm and welcoming glow, hovering backward as several view-screens appeared between me and her.
“What dreams would you like to have tonight?” She asked, one of the open windows floating forward as she offered it to me. “Would you like to continue your playthrough of Mystic Odyssey?”
“Oh, right, I did have another run of that going... Nah. Let's not. I've already beaten it three times anyway.”
“So you do have limits.”
“Hey, you implying something there? It's not like I've had much else to do lately.”
“Nothing at all, Young Master.~ Then, I recall you mentioning that you wished to play STARCHILD again. Shall I start it for you?” The fantasy game that had appeared before vanished, replaced by a sci-fi action game which I was all too familiar with. But while I had enjoyed completing it once, I had other plans. I shook my head – or at least, I tried to; my body wouldn't actually be rendered until I stepped inside some program or another. Still, she seemed to get the idea.
“Refusal acknowledged. Did you have another game in mind?”
“I did, yeah. Seven Kingdoms Online.”
“Oh? Could it be that you are finally taking an interest in –“
“That's got nothing to do with it,” I said decisively, cutting her off before she could even start. “A couple of my friends from school were asking me to join them. I just didn't have anything better to do, is all.”
“...I see. Very well then, I'll start it up,” The AI replied placidly, though I could have sworn a hint of smugness crept into her simulated voice. Let her think whatever she wanted. I was just bored of playing the same things over and over, is all.
Still, while I did enjoy role-playing games, MMOs weren't really my thing. With such a huge world and such nebulously defined goals, you couldn't really say you had beaten the game – just that you had experienced it. Plus, they were designed around the idea of working as a team, and apart from the acquaintances who had invited me to join them, I wasn't very keen on just partying up with people I didn't even know.
I'd give it a try, of course, but I doubted I'd bother sticking around once the novelty wore off. This was just a little virtual walk to clear my head – get a look at some new scenery for a change, and maybe whack my way through a few monsters with a big sword while I was at it. I wouldn't need to hang out with my classmates online anymore come the start of the new school year, anyway, since I could just keep in touch in person instead. So, it wouldn't feel like cutting some of my precious few remaining ties, even if I got bored and quit.
But, if nothing else... Well, I hoped it would at least make for a pleasant dream.
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