Dragon X Two Names

Somewhere along the line, my brain froze up fishing for a response.

If I just said yes right away, would she think I was overly enthusiastic about the idea of accompanying her? But if I made a big deal out of it, she'd just think I was being a creeper. This might have just been a dream, but we were both living in it. The last thing I wanted was to make her uncomfortable when I had only been trying to help out. But why was she even offering this anyway?

...The hand waving in front of my face brought me back to reality. The Exile was standing much closer now, hopping up onto her tiptoes and wobbling back and forth as she dragged me back to reality. Or, well, not reality, per se, but – you get the idea.

“Oi. Hello? Still in there?”

“...You're right,” I said, remembering our previous conversation now that our roles had been reversed. “That really is irritating.”

“Ah. I thought you lagged out.”

“No, I was just – Ehem.” Best not to get into what my thought process was. Rather than fretting overly much about implications, it would be better to just handle this like a mature adult. “I would appreciate having a place to stay, I was just worrying that I'd be imposing on you.”

“...Not really.” She gave another half-hearted shrug. That poker face of hers was as inscrutable as ever, as was her low, calm voice. If she was worried about the same things I was, she didn't show it. “My camp is pretty close to here, and my tent is at least big enough to fit both of us.”

Well now I knew she definitely wasn't worried about it. Had she even realized what sort of invitation she was making?

“And that wouldn't be... inconvenient for you?” I asked, trying my best to put it mildly.

“If you try anything lewd, I can always just kill you and report you for harassment – not necessarily in that order.” Her matter-of-fact response was anything but mild. Didn't this girl have any tact?

“But,” She continued. “Given how scared you were of just giving me a potion when I couldn't even move, I doubt I have anything to worry about.”

...Decisive answer: no. No, she did not.

“I said I was sorry about that...” I grumbled.

“And I'm sorry that helping me got you into this mess,” She answered. Of all the things she could have apologized for, that one was the least of my concerns... Seriously, she was jumping between straightfacedly mocking me and honestly trying to help me so quickly that it was giving me metaphorical whiplash. “It's my fault you used up all your potions, and it's my fault you can't go back into town. So until your penalty wears off, let me help you in return, as your senior Exile.”

...To make a long story short, I accepted her offer. Given how serious she was being about this whole thing, she probably wouldn't have let me hear the end of it if I didn't. Just how much must she have hated feeling like she owed me one, I wonder? Not only did she lead me to her camp, but she even gave me first pick of the items Dain had left behind when he died.

Given the rather pitiful performance of my own weapon in our previous fight, I naturally chose his sword – not that there was much else there to choose from. I would have honestly preferred armor, but it seemed that the items dropped were random, and none of his other gear had been included in the pile – just a few potions and a teleport crystal back to Alharth. That was probably just as well, though. Wearing the uniform of those SPK clods would probably stand out in an even worse way than my PK penalty icon.

While the Exile divided up the spoils of our little battle, I set about dictating a message to SiLVA, and had her send it to Gray and Dairoku. Given that I didn't get an immediate response, I figured they were probably still out in the field on their little expedition. I guess if they were this late too, I wouldn't need to feel too bad about missing our rendezvous myself – and we could always meet back up again tomorrow so that I could explain the situation to them in person.

So, in the mean time, I just followed along with the Exile. But as we wound our way around the outside edge of the woods towards her camp, her earlier words made me realize something.

“...Say, come to think of it, why can't I see your profile when I examine you?” I asked.

“Because I set my profile to private.” That didn't really surprise me, all things considered. She didn't exactly seem like a social butterfly – and given her current circumstances, I could hardly blame her, either.

“Not to mention, your system probably sets me to hostile by default, anyway.” She continued, opening her menu and poked about for a few moments, and then two windows suddenly appeared in the air in front of me. “Try now.”

[Party Invitation] [Friend Request]

“Ah, I was going to say.” I clicked “accept” on both and the windows disappeared – but a second HP bar appeared in the corner of my field of vision, displaying the health and stats of my new companion-in-exile. “It would make working together pretty difficult if we couldn't even party up. Not to mention, I couldn't even see your... name...”

It was around that time, however, that I realized that I now could see the Exile's username, displayed clearly under her health bar. And of all things, it said...

[ImmortalIris]

My breath caught in my throat. It could have just been because she thought the phrase sounded cool. Maybe there was no deeper meaning behind it than that. Maybe. But the way she talked, the way she acted – all of it had felt so familiar that all of a sudden, I couldn't be sure anymore.

She wasn't saying anything, either. Had she seen my username? If so, did she recognize it, just like I had recognized hers?

[HakuryuuK1]. It had been a simple pun – a clever little alias I had come up with when I was a kid, with a little help from a certain someone. It was edgy, cringey, and unabashedly chuuni. But like I said before, you could get at least a little nostalgic about anything once it was over, even the cringey stuff... particularly when it was a codename you had shared with your first friends.

And just like I had made my alias “Hakuryuu” by taking alternate readings of the characters used to spell my own name...

Immortal – Fujimi. And with a slight tweak, you would get a name: Fushimi.

Iris – the name of a flower. A flower which, in Japanese, would be called...

“...Ayame...?!”

 She couldn't be.

But she was. The look on her face wasn't surprised, but rather, almost resigned – as if this was merely the confirmation of something she had suspected all along.

It was only natural, I suppose. To someone who didn't know about how my family situation had changed since we were kids, it probably seemed like a given that I would end up playing this game.

Why wouldn't I, when the one who designed it from the ground up was my father?

“...As I thought. It really is you, Shirayanagi-kun.”