When Akimi opened his eyes again, he found that dusk had already fallen, and the surroundings had turned into a forest—completely different from Cross Hill.
Or rather, he wasn’t at Cross Hill anymore at all.
Most importantly, Asuna was nowhere to be seen, which made him feel uneasy.
After surveying his surroundings, Akimi’s expression grew even darker, because he realized a serious problem—he felt that he wasn’t even in Aincrad anymore.
He wasn’t inside the game of SAO at all.
Although he suspected at first that this might be because of triggering that so-called “dreamlike labyrinth within the game” event, Akimi quickly dismissed the thought.
No matter how dreamlike it was supposed to be, according to Argo’s description, it should still be inside the game—it shouldn’t make the system menu impossible to open.
And there was another very important point: SAO didn’t seem to have any kind of “dreaming” function.
At least up until now, whenever Akimi slept in SAO, he had never once had a dream.
“How strange… Forget it, the urgent thing now is to find Asuna first.” Akimi shook his head, suppressing that strange sense of dissonance in his heart, and started walking forward.
But after only a few steps, he stopped, staring at his legs, then crouched down and placed his hand on the leaves of a low shrub nearby.
The leaves were oval, with tiny droplets of water gathered in the grooves of the central veins, looking like morning dew.
The texture of the leaves was completely different from SAO’s unchanging artificial feel—he could even sense the almost imperceptible ridges caused by the twisting veins.
And when his body brushed against branches just now, the feeling of them being pushed aside and springing back, the rustling sound of leaves colliding, the friction of fabric against his skin—every single detail told Akimi one thing: this place was real.
He swallowed hard in disbelief.
His mind told him this was fake, but his body screamed the opposite, insisting this was reality—and he was left at a loss.
“If I’d really woken up from SAO, there’s no way I’d be in the wilderness.” Akimi scanned the area, taking deep breaths, muttering to himself, “But this feeling…”
Bang! Screeech—screeech—!
Just as Akimi was lost in thought, a heavy crash sounded from ahead, followed by the sharp, piercing screech of metal grinding under pressure.
The noise startled him, and he instinctively reached for his waist, intending to draw his Nichirin blade—but grasped at nothing.
“So it’s really… all gone, huh.”
His tone carried a trace of clenched-teeth frustration as he muttered, but he had no time to dwell on it.
He quickly ran toward the source of the sound—he couldn’t just wander around aimlessly.
At the very least, he needed to find some kind of clue.
————-
When Akimi arrived at his destination, the sight before him made his throat tighten—a black, old-fashioned train had overturned on a clearing at the edge of the forest.
Some flesh-colored, slime-like growths clung to the train, but they were quickly disintegrating into ash.
Ahead of him, two figures who looked like teenage boys were locked in a standoff.
One held a long blade, a haori draped over his shoulders like it was burning with flames.
The base color of the haori was buried beneath countless bloodstains and dirt, only a sliver of white showing through the gaps.
His medium-length golden hair was clearly visible even in the darkness, the tips tinged with a sunset-like red-orange, glowing like the sun itself.
His wide eyes paired with his fluffy hair gave him the impression of a large owl.
Facing this “owl” was a man with deathly pale skin and short pink hair.
He wore a light, short jacket that matched his hair color, leaving broad patches of solid muscle exposed.
Blue-green markings wound across his torso, arms, and even his face.
Unlike the slightly battered “owl,” he had not a speck of dust on him, and an arrogant grin played across his lips.
At that moment, Akimi fully realized where and when he was—
Japan, one hundred years ago, on the night of the Flame Hashira, Kyojuro Rengoku, versus Upper Rank Three, Akaza.
“…I must be dreaming… Maybe staying in SAO too long has scrambled my brain.” Akimi muttered in disbelief.
Just then, Rengoku slowly raised his Nichirin Blade, laying it across his shoulder, and shouted:
“I will fulfill my duty! I will not allow anyone here to die!”
An overwhelming aura burst forth from him as he murmured:
“Flame Breathing, Secret Art…”
That aura made even Akaza tremble in awe.
Fixing his eyes on Rengoku, he marveled:
“Such astonishing fighting spirit… Even with those grave injuries, to still have this vigor, this mental strength, this flawless stance… Hahaha! Become a demon, Kyojiro!”
Even from his distance, Akimi could clearly feel the crushing pressure radiating from Rengoku.
His own breathing grew unsteady—he knew what the outcome of this battle would be… and yet, he also felt like something was missing.
As he stepped forward, intent on stopping the looming tragedy, his foot found only emptiness.
A violent sense of freefall seized him, his eyes widening as the ground beneath him gave way like a sudden sinkhole.
Before he could react, he was plummeting into the abyss.
During the fall, strange scenes flashed before Akimi’s eyes: burning, collapsing streets; shattered, crumbling villages; wooden city-states that warped one’s sense of space…
No matter the setting, each carried a strange sense of incompleteness—something crucial was missing, and it was always the same thing.
When both the weightlessness and the hollow feeling faded, Akimi crashed into the grounds of a traditional Japanese courtyard.
There, three people were talking.
Two looked a little older, while the third was a child, no more than ten years old.
“Sanemi, Giyu,” the child said gently to the two before him, “today is the final Hashira meeting. Though only you two remain as Hashira, and many of the others’ children are gone… I’m grateful the demons have all been eradicated.”
“So… as of today, the Demon Slayer Corps is disbanded.”
After speaking the word “disbanded,” the child gazed at the cherry blossoms drifting down into the courtyard and smiled.
The scene left Akimi dumbfounded.
While it matched what he knew in part, he still felt strongly that something was off—that this was not how things should be.
He opened his mouth, but no sound came out, leaving him frozen in silence.
Then the child suddenly turned his gaze toward Akimi.
His lips moved faintly, and his smile grew even brighter.
Unfortunately, Akimi had never learned to read lips, so he had no idea what the child was saying.
But that didn’t stop his astonishment—up until now, no one had noticed his presence.
Not even Sanemi or Giyu, who stood right beside the child.
Just as he was about to step forward and demand answers, the world shattered like glass.
————–
After casually pulling up the system panel, Akimi shook his head and murmured:
“Sure enough, it really is a dream, huh? But I guess that makes sense. With NERvGear being able to send electrical signals to the brain, making someone dream wouldn’t be hard at all.”
After getting up, he stretched lazily and then glanced over at Asuna, who was lying on her side on the grass.
A faint smile rested on her face, like a sleeping beauty straight out of a fairy tale.
“Honestly… no sense of caution at all. If you’re going to sleep, at least wake me up first. This isn’t exactly a safe zone.” Akimi gave a helpless chuckle and whispered, “Though, judging from just now, whether you could wake me up is another matter altogether…”
As he spoke, he slowly sat down, gazing at the sleeping Asuna.
The corners of his lips curled upward, and he softly added:
“Get some good rest, my dear Asuna.”
— The end of the Chapter–
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