2. Tu■orial

Before I could even get a proper grasp on reality, another word from Linea sent my thoughts spinning again.

...I abandoned her? Did Linea remember the previous playthrough?

No, more than that. How on earth was Linea so certain that I was the player? The user playing the game was never supposed to be ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a character appearing directly in it—just an operator with no physical form, someone who only gave orders. That was how it was supposed to be.

Linea, who had been pressing her lips shut as if waiting for an answer, added another word at the sight of me still hesitating.

"Say something. Make an excuse or whatever. Hm?"

"......"

No proper answer came to mind, so my lips just fluttered uselessly. Judging by that look, it was clear Linea knew me—but that aside, in a situation riddled with questions, there was no way my head could manage a coherent thought.

Then, one step. Linea's steps drew closer to me, and a single tear trailing down her jawline came into sharp focus.

"...Try saying you're sorry, at least."

Another step.

"Anything will do. Just explain some reason I can actually accept."

"......Linea."

The moment her expression—a mix of fury and sorrow—caught my eye, her name spilled reflexively from between my lips. At the same time, Linea flinched, then as if swallowing down her anger, closed her eyes briefly and lifted her eyelids with a deep breath.

"You're not going anywhere now, right? You'll stay by my side, keep... keep staying, right?"

Resignation? Forgiveness? For a moment I wondered at her slightly softened tone. Then a thought struck me. Maybe Linea was telling me the right answer right now.

...Think. If this wasn't some vicious dream but reality, then wasn't what I needed to do right now already decided?

"......I'll stay here. Always."

"...You'd better. Someone who's performed an Oath, vanishing without a word... this is the last time I forgive it."

"......"

A sudden chill running down my spine sealed my throat shut. From what Linea had just said, I could also tell this world had faithfully implemented even the game's systems.

...Among them, the Affection System. Naturally, every item related to it had been gifted to Linea—there was nowhere else to use them, after all. At 100 Affection, the Oath unlocked, and that feature included stat increases and various buffs. As a player, naturally, there was no reason to refuse it.

But the problem was that in this game, where growth stats had no cap, Affection had no cap either. And mine had reached a staggering 1500. The number matched exactly, so I remembered Linea's Affection with perfect clarity.

And now, this wasn't a game. It was reality. Which meant no one knew how that abnormal Affection value would manifest...

"It's been 340 hours since you disappeared and showed up like this. How do you think I survived that time? No—don't you think you should be comforting me right now?"

Along with the cold voice bursting straight out, Linea's utterly frigid gaze fixed directly on me. Looking back now, her anger hadn't subsided—it was closer to her emotions having burst open instead. Her motionless face lay eerily still, as if she no longer had the strength left to be angry.

"...I'm sorry. I really won't go anywhere from now on."

Even if she pointed fingers and called it pathetic, there was nothing I could do. One way or another, what I needed right now was Linea's strength and knowledge, not some petty pride. If this really was the world inside the game, then combining the information I knew with Linea to survive came first.

So for now, I had to somehow soothe Linea's anger—

"If you disappear one more time, know that you'll die then. You, and me both."

"......Yeah."

Linea wasn't holding any weapon at all, yet somehow the weight of that threat landed with certainty. ...And with that expression, it was no lie either.

"Then, hold me now."

Suddenly, Linea spread both arms wide open. Her expression remained just as frigid as before.

...Still, this was too much. She was just a game character. How did it make sense that I was being robbed of the initiative like this? For a moment, I even thought that against tutorial-stage Linea, I might actually win in raw strength.

The moment I saw Linea's brow twist at my hesitation, every stray thought clouding my head vanished in an instant. ...I might actually die. It seemed better to do as she wanted for now and sort ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠out my thoughts afterward.

So the distance closed, yet Linea herself didn't stir an inch, reading my expression all the while. Right up until I stood before her. Silently, I embraced the cold-eyed Linea. And then, the moment I pushed my face past the nape of her neck, trying to avoid that frigid gaze—

Only then did Linea let her voice slip out.

"...You're warmer than usual."

With that single short phrase, Linea's arms, which had been hanging in the air, wrapped around my back. At the same time, a hollow breath escaped my lips at the sensation of my lungs being crushed. Rather than saying Linea pulled me close, the word binding fit better.

Linea pressed into me so hard my breathing nearly broke. Paying no heed to the ragged breaths spilling from my mouth, she whispered into my ear.

"I wanted to die. No—should I say I already died once?"

At Linea's ominous words, questions bloomed in my head—but only for a moment. I felt like I'd suffocate and die right here, but I couldn't exactly ask her to let go either.

"But you came back, so I suppose it's fine now? Both you, and this Shelter of ours."

With that chill laugh boring into my ear as the finish, Linea finally, slowly, released the arms binding me. I quietly steadied my breath without letting it show, and before long, Linea's eerie smile followed me.

...Apparently, now wasn't the time to be clearing up my questions. For now, reassuring Linea came first. Under that strangely piercing gaze, I polished my questions over and over before finally letting out a single line.

"I'm sorry. Something came up, and I was late. But from now on—"

"I know. We'll be together forever."

"......"

As if she'd predicted the very words I was about to say, Linea cut me off, the corners of her mouth twitching.

"Am I wrong? You said you loved me. You said I was all you needed."

One corner of her mouth twisted up eerily as Linea raised her frigid eyes, as if craving an answer. Unlike her calm eyes, the shape of that warped mouth stirred an inexplicable unease.

"Why aren't you answering? Was all of that a lie?"

"...No, you're right. My head's a mess."

"......"

At my half-forced answer, this time it was Linea who fell silent. Along with the corners ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of her eyes, which had warped into something sinister. Before I could even read the meaning behind her twitching brows, Linea let out a voice gone ice-cold.

"You've never once told me you loved me. Let alone said you liked me."

......My heart lurched. What on earth was this supposed to mean? No—no. Where was I supposed to start retracing my thoughts? What was that question, and what had she just said? I groped desperately through my thoughts.

Interaction with in-game characters happened only through fixed responses. And the dialogue attached to the Oath event naturally included the words I love you. It was, after all, equivalent to marriage.

But there was something I'd overlooked. Linea was a 1-Star character, and not one I'd invested that heavily in. Meaning there had been no Oath event—no, not even the most common cutscene.

Linea, who had been firing glares gone stone-cold, tilted her head slightly.

"You were never this kind before. You used to ignore my questions, too. But now... you're a little different, aren't you?"

Her words trailing off, Linea was looking up at me with doubtful eyes.

I hastily scraped together fragments of memory. Interactive dialogue with characters definitely existed. But as a 1-Star, Linea's lines were so sparse they were practically nonexistent. On top of that, player dialogue for issuing commands or giving gifts had never been implemented. In the end, there was nothing strange at all about Linea harboring those kinds of doubts.

"I guess a lot happened while you abandoned me and disappeared? Or did you finally decide to be honest?"

Was this another leading question? Or a genuine hope?

Right now, Linea was accepting me as a person. In other words, Linea recognized me as a character—that is, as a human being. Plenty of unanswered questions still remained, but right now there was something I needed to confirm first.

Should I keep playing the taciturn player, like Linea said? ......Or, if not that—

"Linea, can I ask you just one thing?"

"......A question?"

"How much do you remember about me?"

Linea's eyes narrowed at once. As if suspecting something. Or as if trying to read the intent behind the question.

The reason I pulled out a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠question like this, out of all the questions I could have asked, was simple. From Linea's perspective, I must have looked like a strange person, surely. But to avoid repeating my mistakes, I needed to find out where our information overlapped. What I remembered was the story inside the game—not the me that Linea remembered from now.

"What kind of person I was. What I did to you. What I said to you."

"...That's a strange thing to ask. You were never the type to ask questions like this."

A brief silence followed. Linea, slow to pick the thread back up, tilted her head slightly and parted her tightly sealed lips.

"You'd toss gifts at me without a word, silently treat my wounds when I was hurt, vanish every night and return by morning, then disappear again, over and over."

Linea laid it all out point by point, then suddenly grimaced and cut herself off. Her eyes, which had swept once around the shabby Shelter, met mine again, and her sealed lips parted once more.

"You'd drive me to the brink of death, then only show up to save me the moment I tried to die. Sometimes you'd strip off all my clothes and dress me in different ones without asking. And through all of it, you never said a single word."

"......I'm sorry."

At that single word, Linea's eyes—which had been biting down on her lip—began to tremble precariously, on the verge of breaking into tears.

"Does saying sorry now fix everything? Every day you'd vanish without warning, then suddenly reappear with a gift or slide a ring onto my ring finger. Did you ever, even once, think about how I felt waiting for you every single day?"

Finally, a single droplet clinging pitifully to the corner of Linea's eye slid slowly down her jawline.

...A game and reality are different things. Even if the same hours passed, even if the same actions were taken. Could I ever fully understand what Linea had felt?

Faced with such a contradictory relationship, no fitting answer came to me, and my useless lips just kept working.

"What do you even think I am? You bring me gifts I like, every single time—so why have you never once said you like me?"

The voice that had started like a shot grew weaker and blurrier toward the end. The sharp glare that looked ready to explode into rage had, at some point, crumpled completely.

"I......"

Linea forced the corners of her mouth upward. But it was an expression far too fragile to call a smile.

"I thought... you liked me."

"......"

"Even without the words, I believed it. That's why I waited. I thought you'd come back even when you disappeared. I thought someday you'd tell me."

Emotion seeped into her voice, pitch rising and falling, and the tremor in it deepened.

"But no matter how long I waited, you never said it."

Linea's fingertips slowly curled in.

"Not that you liked me. Not that you missed me."

Her fists clenched, nails digging into her palms, trembling so hard it went beyond that.

"Not a single word. Not even once..."

With that small, almost pleading whisper as her last, Linea dropped her head low.

What explanation could I possibly give that would make Linea understand? Those feelings that had only ever flowed one way—I couldn't even explain that it was because of the game, that there'd been no other choice. What words was I supposed to pull out?

It wasn't as if I felt nothing for the character. Should I tell her I liked her, even now? ...But wouldn't that be far too irresponsible? Liking Linea as I watched her through a screen, and liking the person standing right in front of me now, were entirely different things.

Caught between the dissonance of facing a game character in the flesh and an inexplicable hesitation, my silence only stretched longer.

But Linea showed no intention of waiting for my answer. She slowly raised her head and let her voice slip out.

"...So, from now on, I'm changing my approach."

Before long, Linea's expression began to come slowly into view. The sorrow that had lingered there moments ago had vanished without a trace, replaced by a cynical smile gone utterly cold.

"Until you tell me, you're not going anywhere."

Ding—.

I barely had time to be thrown by Linea's sudden shift before an alien sound jabbed at my ear. At the top of my vision, something in a familiar shape glowed a pale grayish white. The instant my gaze was stolen by instinct, I could only stand there, dumbfounded.