![]() ![]() Maybe you could make the envious itch scraping around in the back of your skull go away. What could you do, but pretend you lived as someone else? It’s not like you would ever be your ideal self, whoever that might have been, but maybe you could shake off the cramped feeling of living as Kazuto. The whole problem of being-alive-as-Kazuto-Kirigaya. You always had to do something about your problem. ![]() It’s probably all just petty rationalization, anyways.īecause your problems cut deeper than just being some no-life video game addict. How… hopelessly new age and quaint of you to ever put it like that. And, well, rather than build a bridge back down to the real world, you dragged yourself higher and higher upwards into abstract fantasy. Detached and confused, you always were the type to cloister yourself away in academics instead of flesh-and-blood activities like the swordplay you were once good at. To cut a little closer to the heart of the issue, maybe you just never connected with anything in the real world. But skill doesn’t mean much without the inclination to use it, does it? In retrospect, your fascination with virtual reality and video games was probably inevitable.įrom the beginning, you were always a little unrealistically skilled with computers, an unbelievable electronic prodigy. Maybe you still kind of are, though, aren’t you? God, you were a real selfish asshole back then, weren’t you? Because even though you didn’t care about your blood ties, you still rankled at the lie you had been told. Years later, that discrepancy would niggle in your mind - without reason, really, because what boy wouldn’t grow up like their father? But still, it itched and drove you - alongside a dozen other things - to hack into databases and census reports like the fucking moron that you are, and discover that your parents were really your aunt and uncle. Why on earth would you grow up looking like your father, instead of growing up to look like her? She might as well have been speaking in English for all you understood of her words - she didn’t look anything like him. ![]() But it wasn’t like you understood what she was saying, either. It wasn’t like she expected you to remember that moment, years down the line. “You see this?” your ‘mother’ asked, holding up a picture of the person you would later learn was actually your uncle. The light schnck of scissors against paper like a rasp against your mind. SWORD GIRLS ONLINE ROSA SKINWhen you were just emerging from the fog of toddlerdom - or more specifically, when you first formed memories of that time - you sat underneath the window of your living room, feeling the sun kiss gently against your skin while your ‘mother’ watched reruns of poorly-made anime and doggedly compiled her scrapbooks and photo albums. Not a very important day in and of itself, but the atmosphere of the surrounding month grew on you with every birthday, taking a shape like autumn chill, broken leaves, and depressingly American costume parties. You were born in 2008, on October 7th, the prelude to Halloween. Even if it took you dozens of close brushes with death to realize your folly. To tell the truth - something you truly don’t do often - your life before SAO, before the death games and virtual worlds, it wasn’t that bad. ![]()
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