By any reasonable standard, a man should have been thrilled to spend a late-winter evening in a small, warm apartment, sharing dinner with two young women instead of hurrying through the dry cold outside. The fact that they were not in a restaurant only made the situation better.
Satoru could tell at a glance how different Shino's apartment was from his own. There were no empty beer cans piled in a corner, no cigarette packs or ashtrays on the coffee table, and no dusting of ash that returned to the tabletop no matter how often he wiped it away.
A home always carried traces of the person living there. In his case, that meant the faint smell of tobacco clinging to him and the plain detergent scent of clothes washed too many times.
Shino's room was not the kind of aggressively girlish place where even the air seemed pink. She was a high school girl who rarely wore more than light makeup, and while there was softness in her body and emotions, there was nothing weak about her. The furniture and decor were clean and simple. Her girlish tastes only showed in little details.
Details like the pink bunny slippers currently squeezed onto Satoru's feet.
They felt strange compared to his usual flip-flops. Whenever convenience won out, Satoru wore those at home all year round. If it got cold, he put on socks and kept wearing them, angling his feet so the straps would not get in the way.
The bunny slippers were too small for him, but that was not the only source of his discomfort. He also felt strangely out of place.
The last time he had entered Shino's apartment, he had been there to save her. He had charged straight in and beaten Kyouji senseless. Appreciating the atmosphere of a girl's room had not exactly been a priority.
Tonight was different.
Shino sat on his left and Saki on his right. For reasons beyond him, neither one had taken the seat across the table. All three of them were crowded along the same side, forcing him to keep his movements tight so he would not bump either of them while eating. The familiar smell of his cooking filled the warm room, mingling with the scent of the two girls beside him.
Perfume, probably.
Anything else would have been a very rude assumption.
And yes, Satoru was still only human. Some small, instinctive part of him was perfectly happy with the arrangement.
Unfortunately, it made eating a nuisance. Shino had to lean across him to reach a dish in front of Saki, and Saki, apparently without noticing, kept pulling the plate farther away.
"Why doesn't one of you sit across from us?" he finally asked. "Three people on one side of a coffee table is a little cramped."
"I was thinking the same thing."
Saki chuckled.
"She can move."
That would not do. They were guests in Shino's home. Asking their host to make room for them would be rude. Saki was young and still lacked tact; she was lucky Shino was not the sort to take offense.
Satoru shook his head.
"Why don't you move instead?"
For a moment, the look Saki gave him held nothing but contempt.
"Wow. Look at you," she said, her voice turning cool. "You've changed."
He had no idea where that disdain had come from, or what her remark was supposed to mean, but she clearly had no intention of moving. Saki had grown up in a wealthy family, and considering how fiercely Hidemura doted on her, she had probably been treated like a princess all her life.
She was still young. A little stubbornness came with the territory.
But Shino was their host, so asking her to move was out of the question.
"Then I'll sit over there," Satoru declared, pleased with the elegance of his solution.
As the older friend, it was his job to keep the peace. If someone had to draw the short straw, it might as well be him.
"No!"
"No!"
Their simultaneous refusal left him staring.
"...?"
What was wrong with his perfectly balanced plan?
He frowned and instinctively began weighing the costs and benefits.
Then his thoughts shifted from hopelessly dense Satoru to Yurnero, the Sword Saint, and he finally noticed something odd about this supposedly idyllic dinner with a beautiful girl on either side of him.
The rice in Shino's and Saki's bowls had barely been touched. Most of their time was spent reaching for food, yet their chopsticks rarely returned with anything. Some perfectly timed obstacle always got in the way. Saki would casually slide a plate out of reach; Shino would flick a vegetable from the tips of Saki's chopsticks without changing expression.
Once Satoru stopped eating and watched more closely, the truth became impossible to miss.
Their chopsticks were not aimed at the food.
They were aimed at each other.
Every jab, tap, and sweep was meant to send the other girl back empty-handed. Neither would admit defeat, but each clash ended after a single exchange. Anything longer would make the duel too obvious.
That restraint only made every strike faster, sharper, and more vicious.
Clack.
This time, Saki knocked a piece of meat from Shino's chopsticks. They met each other's eyes, withdrew in silence, and pretended to eat something else. Seconds later, the battle resumed over another plate.
Even Satoru had never imagined chopsticks could be used this way.
Women truly were beyond him.
Still, a warm satisfaction spread through his chest.
My cooking must be incredible if they're willing to fight over it.
The former chef in him swelled with pride. Few things felt better than seeing his work so enthusiastically appreciated.
His frown eased, and he returned to his meal, happily enjoying the twin satisfaction of being a dependable older friend and an excellent cook.
Meanwhile, the tension simmering over the coffee table was close to boiling over.
After Shino intercepted her yet again without so much as changing expression, Saki's smile began to stiffen.
This is her home ground. Even that idiot took her side earlier, and they only met recently, so the novelty is still working in her favor. She has every advantage, and she has already caught on to me. A direct attack won't work. I need to take this slowly.
She glanced at Satoru, who remained blissfully unaware as he ate.
Then I'll attack from another angle.
Her chopsticks moved.
"Here. Have some meat."
Saki placed a piece in Satoru's bowl.
Shino's chopsticks, which had been moving with the speed of sniper fire, stopped. She had no way to intercept that attack.
Satoru blinked at Saki's beaming face.
Could it be...?
Had this prickly girl finally taken his patient advice to heart and learned how to get along with people?
Good. This was exactly how she should treat others: with a little kindness and courtesy. Then perhaps she would not spend every day at school with no one to talk to. A beautiful girl's smile was a powerful weapon, after all.
Appreciating someone else's work and expressing goodwill were both excellent first steps.
Grow up right, Saki.
Don't become the sort of chuuni idiot I used to be, convinced society wasn't worth the trouble.
"Thanks, Saki."
He smiled.
Aincrad was behind them now. Back then, Argo had been a troublesome information broker. Today, Saki was simply a mischievous girl who never tired of dragging him out to do things. Deep down, he cared a great deal about her.
Besides, he was hardly immune to a lively, charming girl's kindness.
To Shino, however, Saki's innocent smile looked like the triumphant grin of a victor.
"Suzuki-kun... the vegetables turned out well too, but they might be a little salty. Try them."
Satoru looked down and found Shino's chopsticks in his bowl.
"Did I use too much seasoning? That can't be right."
His pride as a cook instantly overrode everything else. Instead of eating Saki's meat, he tried Shino's vegetables first.
"Hmm... They seem fine to me. Maybe you prefer lighter seasoning?"
"Maybe that's it."
"Then I'll use a little less salt next time."
"Sorry to make more work for you."
"It's no trouble. Cooking for other people is satisfying, especially after working in the field. And since you want to learn, we'll probably be doing this again."
"You're right."
Shino smiled.
Beside them, Saki stared at the piece of meat that had arrived first and been eaten second.
Somehow, she had lost.
How is that fair? I was here first...
Back in Aincrad, selling him information.
Even now, serving him food.
"Yurne-whatever, try the tofu too!"
She dropped a spoonful of mapo tofu into his bowl.
"Oh."
"Suzuki-kun, the chicken turned out great too."
"Mm..."
"This soup is delicious. I'll get you a bowl!"
"Do you want more rice? I'll serve you."
Satoru stared at the mountain of rice, food, and soup piled into his bowl. It had grown so heavy that even his left hand trembled. He was hardly strong, but he could at least toss a wok once or twice while stir-frying. Now he could barely hold a rice bowl.
And things were only getting worse.
He wanted to tell them he had enough, yet every instinct warned him not to.
Whatever else he might be, Satoru knew when to be afraid.
He looked from Saki's bright smile to Shino's guileless expression. Neither was doing anything openly threatening, yet he felt the same survival instinct he had once felt before a deadly Floor Boss.
The pleasure of dining with two beautiful girls vanished. Even the fragrance of dinner seemed buried beneath a sudden chill.
At some point, the pink bunny slippers had slipped from his feet.
He swallowed.
"I need to use the bathroom."
"Have a little more."
"..."
That soft voice no longer sounded gentle.
It sounded like something baring its teeth.
Then the Banana X Plus in his pocket began to ring.
Divine intervention.
He set his bowl and chopsticks down with a thump and shot to his feet.
"I need to take this."
Satoru fled toward the bathroom.
Tch. He escaped.
Saki's sweet, well-behaved smile vanished in an instant.
...
"Hello?"
"It's me. Souji."
"Oh, hey. What's up?"
"Why do you sound like that?"
"Do I...?"
"Yeah. Like a hamster that just escaped from a cage full of wolves."
Souji let that hang for a beat, then moved on.
"Anyway, it's been almost six months. What have you been doing? Playing anything lately? Have you eaten? If not, come join us. The old studio crew is having a reunion in Ginza, and the boss is paying."
"I'm eating now."
"Then we'll do it another day."
A sudden burst of shouting came through the phone.
"Why is it so loud over there?"
"Oh, a couple is having a fight. Looks like a full-blown love triangle. Here, listen."
Souji must have held the phone toward the commotion.
"Avrora? Why are you here?" a man asked.
"Why shouldn't I be? You said you were only meeting a classmate, so I came to see for myself. A very pretty classmate, apparently."
"Akishinomiya really is just my classmate," the man said wearily.
"She may be your classmate now. Give it a few days. I used to be your senpai too, Zhang-kun, and now I'm your fiancée."
"D-Don't make things up! I don't remember agreeing to that!"
"Oh, so you got what you wanted and now you're walking away? What exactly did you tell my father?"
"He only asked me to look after you! Stop making it sound filthy. We're coworkers. That's all!"
"Now you're talking back to me? I bet your pretty classmate doesn't know about all the other women you've been stringing along."
"They're my subordinates! How does a superior-subordinate relationship count as that?"
"Fine. I'll call every other ship you've got a foot on and bring them here. Especially the one named Shoukaku!"
"Don't you dare!"
"What? Are you going to hit me now? You've learned to bully girls?"
"...You? A girl? Don't flatter yourself."
The shouting immediately became much more violent.
Satoru had no idea what he had just heard. Then Souji brought the phone back.
"Holy shit, they're actually fighting! Whoa, she went at him with a dinner knife! No way. Did he just take it from her bare-handed? That was incredible!"
"Then get out of there," Satoru said flatly. "And stop treating their private mess like entertainment."
"Private mess? What kind of family argument involves a knife? Besides, it really does look like this guy is tangled up with several women. The two here are both stunning. And Avrora? Don't let the crazy threats fool you. She's a perfect ten."
"Fine. Enjoy yourself. I'm hanging up."
...
Ginza, inside a restaurant.
Zhang ended up being carried out after all.
Not by paramedics or the police.
Several of his female subordinates arrived soon afterward. Once everyone had calmed down enough to talk, they apologized to the manager, paid for the damage, and carried him out the door.
"I never thought I'd live to see a 'You're All My Wings' route actually work."
Souji Yae looked genuinely awed.
"Did you see the ID he showed the manager? Navy." Sakuya Miara shook his head. "Successful career, thriving love life... That man has everything. I cannot understand why someone so gifted would waste himself on the real world. Think of all the gacha he could fund."
"No. You don't understand."
Ichiro Narita narrowed his eyes.
"That was the look of a man who has faced death. He must once have been a formidable warrior, and now he is enjoying the peace he earned afterward. My bosozoku years taught me to recognize his kind. That man used to be dangerous. A genuine shura."
"If my familiar, the mighty Grannis Darkhammer, says so, then it must be true."
"Fuck. Stop saying that name!"
"But it is your name, Grannis Darkhammer."
Sakuya sighed.
"My many wives across the fantasy worlds aside, the two of you are still single. It worries me. A pity my Sword Saint could not come tonight. Perhaps he would have wanted my limited Anne Quines card. Then at least one of my followers' romantic troubles would be solved."
"How do you know he doesn't have a girlfriend?" Ichiro shot back.
"Impossible."
"You never know. Maybe he's having dinner with a beautiful girl right now. More than one, even."
"Do not make me laugh, Grannis Darkhammer. My Sword Saint is destined to master weapons, not women. And among all the weapons in existence, only one lies beyond his ability to handle."
"Which one?"
"A kitchen cleaver," Sakuya answered gravely. "I even visited that new fortune-telling shop the other day to have your futures read."
"Oh, give it a rest. Did you at least ask about your own love life?"
Sakuya waved the question away.
"Women from the 3D world."
"Applause! Everyone, applaud! It looks like our boss might make it out alive after all!"