I have to bring Asuna up here, Kirito thought, almost grinning as he wiped wet drops off his face. They have a shower!
Whoof. Right now, he wished he could dive under hot water himself. He didn’t feel really dirty, but two years under a helmet had left his hair – well. Yuck.
I don’t think I have time to try and figure out a shower that doesn’t have a touch menu.
But the steamy air was nice, and the shower curtain had to be at least +10 concealment against passing encounters-
Not in Aincrad. Not. In. Aincrad.
The gown came off with some fumbling and a few tears. He glared at the laminated bar-code bracelet on his right forearm, but left it alone. It might be important. Sweatpants-
Well. It was a good thing there was a ledge to sit on by the shower. That was tricky.
The t-shirt and sweatshirt went on a lot easier, though they were much more loose than he thought his mother would be happy with. But they were clothes, and they were gray and black, and that was so much better than helpless white paper.
Straps back over his shoulder, he stepped down from the shower niche into the main bathroom-
Dark shadow in the fog.
Hands shot up to parry and block, as he faced the-
Kirito heaved a sigh, and wiped fading mist from polished glass. There just weren’t that many mirrors in Aincrad….
Not his avatar. This was a thin, pale teenager in gray and black. A real face, with real limp black hair, and all the little imperfections of skin and veins that never made it into the rendering.
I’m not Kirito anymore. I’m Kirigaya Kazuto. Again.
Then why did it feel like typing in someone else’s screen name?