Pontocho was a narrow stone-paved alley tucked between Kawaramachi and the Kamo River. During the day, it looked quiet enough to miss if one was not paying attention, but at night, the little restaurants lining both sides would open their doors and light their lanterns, and the whole street would suddenly feel unmistakably Japanese.
At least, that was what Satoru had read.
"There are a lot of good places hidden around here," he said as if reciting from memory. "This must be what people mean when they call something a hidden gem."
He and Shino had found one of those small restaurants. It was so quiet that it almost seemed closed for the day. They were the only customers, yet the server welcomed them without surprise, brought water, and took their order as if everything were completely normal.
"The area from Karasuma to Higashiyama is basically Kyoto's busiest commercial district," Satoru continued. "There are shops, restaurants, traditional Kyoto sweets, modern department stores, cafes, Western-style restaurants... drugstores and convenience stores too."
Most of this information had come from Kenna.
"There are still plenty of places we can visit afterward. I'm sure we'll have a good time."
He kept talking like a tour guide who had studied the script the night before.
"Is that so..."
Shino did not sound particularly enthusiastic. He had planned the route, looked up every location, and already promised to cover all the expenses. She should have been happy.
Instead, ever since they had entered the restaurant, she had felt a nagging suspicion that he was trying much too hard to please her.
Inside FullDive games, the man could only be called a monster. His ability to control every detail made her wonder what his brain was made of. As a working adult, he understood basic social etiquette too.
But the instant girls entered the equation, that monster disappeared and left behind a blockhead made of solid wood.
And this restaurant seemed to be his real first destination. After parking, he had headed straight here without the slightest hesitation. For some reason, the place was also nearly empty. Shino had first assumed it was closed, yet they had been welcomed as though nothing was unusual.
"There are plenty of famous sights worth visiting too," Satoru said, pausing to take a sip of water. "Kiyomizu-dera, for example..."
Shino rested her chin on one hand and watched him.
She did not know much about Kyoto, but even she knew Kiyomizu-dera was popular with couples. There was also Jishu Shrine, where people prayed for love. Supposedly, anyone who could walk between its two love stones with their eyes closed would find true love.
This blockhead was definitely up to something.
The elite ice sniper of GGO quietly surveyed the restaurant. It was spotless, decorated in a traditional Japanese style, and filled with a pleasant aroma. Faint sounds of cooking drifted from the kitchen. They had started preparing the food as soon as the order was placed, which meant the ingredients had been ready. The restaurant was not closed for renovation either.
There was no reason for it to be this deserted.
Unless they had kept everyone else out.
After all, she and Satoru had been seated without the slightest trouble.
"Fushimi Inari Taisha is another good option. The Senbon Torii are beautiful the first time you see them..."
"Suzuki-kun."
Seeing that he was about to list every attraction in Kyoto like a professional guide, Shino gently cut him off.
"You're trying so hard to act casual that it's impossible not to notice."
Satoru paused.
Then, at last, he gave up on the speech.
For a moment, he said nothing. His hand started toward the cigarettes in his pocket, then stopped halfway. Apparently, he had decided against smoking in front of a minor.
"Shino, I invited you to Kyoto partly because I had business here. The other reason has to do with you."
"Me?"
Shino blinked. She looked down and tried to think of any connection she might have to Kyoto, but nothing came to mind.
She was about to ask another question when she looked up and met his eyes.
For the first time that day, the man across from her was not the awkward Satoru from the street.
He was Samuro.
The blockhead in front of her had vanished. His gaze was sincere, sharp, and utterly serious.
"Wh-what is it...?"
She looked away without thinking.
"I owe you an apology," Satoru said quietly.
"...For what?"
"It's about what happened at the post office when you were a child."
"..."
Of course.
Once his eyes changed like that, he never eased into a subject. He went straight for the most vulnerable place in her heart.
"That incident?" Shino still managed a faint smile. "What about it?"
"You're taking this more calmly than I expected. I thought you'd at least give me the cold shoulder."
"I've already told you most of it, haven't I? And... I don't really mind talking about it with you."
She drew a small breath.
"But girls can change their minds, so you should probably get to the point."
"Then I'll get straight to the point."
Satoru met her eyes.
"With help from Seijirou Kikuoka, the civil servant you met before, I looked into the post office incident."
"Why... did you have to dig that deeply?"
Shino leaned back against her chair, no longer resting against the table. Without meaning to, she had put distance between them.
"Because I think it's time this ended."
His voice did not waver.
"Defeating Death Gun, another nightmare like yours, wasn't enough to put an end to the one that's haunted you for so long. Sinon fought her battle and won. Now it's Shino's turn."
He added, almost matter-of-factly,
"And I don't pick fights I can't win. We're not losing this one."
"I have no idea what you're talking about..."
Shino could only stare at him.
"One of the women involved in that incident eventually moved to Kyoto. She and her husband opened a small restaurant here."
"Could it be...?"
"This is the place," Satoru said.
He offered nothing more.
As if they had arranged it in advance, someone stepped out from behind the kitchen door.
She was a woman around thirty, with chin-length hair, light makeup, and neat clothes. She looked less like an office worker and more like a mother. A patter of little footsteps immediately confirmed that impression as a girl too young for elementary school came running out behind her.
The child looked so much like the woman that they had to be related.
But that only left Shino more confused.
Who were they?
What did any of this have to do with her?
The woman looked at Shino, sitting frozen in her chair. Her eyes welled with tears, yet she smiled and bowed deeply. The little girl beside her bowed too.
After a long silence, the mother and daughter sat across from Shino. The man who had been watching quietly from behind the counter came over and placed a cup of coffee in front of the woman and a glass of milk in front of the child.
He was probably the owner.
Just looking at them gave Shino no clue how this woman could be connected to the victory Satoru had described.
Had he made a mistake?
No.
Something flickered deep inside her memory.
The woman was a stranger, and yet...
The woman bowed again, then introduced herself in a trembling voice.
"You're... Shino Asada, aren't you? My name is Sachie Oosawa. This is my daughter, Mizue. She's four."
Neither name meant anything to Shino. She should have had no connection to a mother and child of their ages.
So why did something buried inside her still ache?
Sachie watched Shino's blank expression, drew a deep breath, and forced her voice to come out clearly.
"When I first moved to Tokyo, I was already pregnant with Mizue. Even so, I kept working."
Her fingers tightened around the cup in front of her.
"My workplace was a small post office in Tokyo. The one where the robbery happened."
"Ah..."
A breath escaped Shino's lips.
That post office.
That place.
Five years ago, Shino and her mother had walked into that small, ordinary neighborhood post office, and Shino's entire life had changed.
The armed robber had first shot the man behind the service window. Then he had hesitated between the two women behind the counter and Shino's mother, trying to decide whom to shoot next.
Shino had thrown herself at him, wrestled away the gun, and pulled the trigger.
Sachie had been one of those two employees.
So that was it.
Satoru had tracked her down after she quit her job and moved away from Tokyo. He had contacted her, arranged this meeting, and brought Shino here.
She understood that much now.
But the largest question remained.
Why had he done this?
"I'm sorry."
Sachie's voice broke.
"I'm so sorry, Shino."
Shino had no idea what the woman was apologizing for. She could only stare as Sachie struggled to speak through her tears.
"I should have found you sooner. I meant to. I really did. But I wanted to forget what happened. Then we moved away from Tokyo because it was closer to my husband's work, and I kept telling myself I would do it later."
Her tears gathered faster now.
"You must have suffered so much. I should have realized that if I'd stopped to think about it at all. But I never came to apologize. I never even thanked you."
The tears finally spilled down her cheeks.
Mizue looked up at her mother with concern, and Sachie gently stroked her cheek.
"When the robbery happened, I was pregnant with her. So you didn't only save me, Shino."
Sachie looked at her daughter, then back at Shino.
"You saved Mizue too."
Her voice trembled.
"Thank you. Thank you so much."
"I... saved a life?"
Shino repeated the words.
At that post office, eleven-year-old Shino had pulled the trigger three times and taken a life.
That was all she had ever known.
For five years, that was the only way she had understood what happened.
But the woman in front of her had said something else.
She had saved someone.
"Shino Asada didn't lose that battle," Satoru said softly.
Shino looked away from him and back at Sachie. She wanted to say something, but no words came. She did not even know what she was supposed to feel.
A soft patter of footsteps broke the silence.
Four-year-old Mizue climbed down from her chair and came around the table. Her braided hair shone beneath the restaurant lights, color warmed her cheeks, and her wide eyes were clear and guileless.
Mizue reached into her little bag and pulled something out.
It was a sheet of drawing paper folded into quarters. She opened it with both hands and held it out to Shino.
The picture had been drawn in crayon. In the center stood a smiling woman with long hair, clearly Sachie. Mizue was on the right with her braided pigtails, while the man with glasses on the left had to be her father.
At the top, in newly learned hiragana, she had written:
To Oneechan
Shino accepted the picture with both hands.
Mizue smiled, took a deep breath, and carefully recited the words she had practiced, stumbling slightly but speaking one word at a time.
"Shino-oneechan, thank you for saving Mommy and me."
Colors blurred across Shino's vision as tears filled her eyes.
It took her a moment to realize she was crying.
She had never known tears could feel this gentle, this clean, as if they could wash something away instead of tearing it open.
She held the large drawing in both hands and let the tears fall freely.
On the hand marked by that small powder-burn scar, a tiny, soft palm settled against hers.
It trembled at first.
Then it held on tight.
It would probably take a long, long time to accept everything that had happened.
Even so, I still love this world.
Life is hard, and the road ahead won't be easy.
But I can keep walking.
I know that now.
Because the little hand holding mine and the tears on my cheeks are both so warm.
...
Satoru had already moved to the restaurant entrance to give them space. He leaned against the wall and was about to put a cigarette between his lips when another appeared in front of him.
He looked up.
The man offering it was the owner, Sachie's husband, his face warm with gratitude.
To him, Shino was the girl who had saved his family, and Satoru was the man who had finally brought the incident to an end.
They lit their cigarettes together.
"Thank you."
"No problem."
Satoru drew quietly on his second cigarette of the day.
"Thank you," the owner said again. "Everything's all right now. My wife has carried that incident with her for years, but even when she wanted to do something, she didn't know where to begin."
He let out a long breath.
"That girl must have suffered terribly too. This finally gives both of them some closure."
"It was always going to end well," Satoru said with a small smile.
Of course it was.
It could not have ended any other way.
He had told Shino before. He only cared about victory. In games, in battle, even in things like this.
He had brought her here because he was certain he could untangle the knot in Shino's heart. If Sachie and Mizue could not give her hope, he would never have arranged the meeting.
Or rather...
If the real Sachie and Mizue had been unable to lead Shino toward a better tomorrow, he would have hired a mother and daughter to play the parts and followed his own script until Shino finally smiled.
One way or another, he would have given her a happy ending.
What was wrong with hope born from a lie?
He had learned that much from a certain girl who hid her true identity and never stopped calling him Nero.
He had failed to save Shinkawa. He had done nothing for the players Death Gun murdered.
But today, he had truly saved someone.
And he had not even needed the worst-case option: a rescue built on a lie of his own making.
I guess I really am growing up.
Satoru looked up at the sky.
Now you can't pout at me, can you?
Don't worry.
I'll keep carrying victory with me until the day I can stand before you again.