Chapter Text
0 milliseconds.
Hey, are you sure?
The question lingered on Yachiyo’s tongue, too afraid of the answer to blurt it out. She herself wasn’t sure if it was going to come out with a choking sob or a perfectly mechanical cadence. She wasn’t sure which one would be worse to hear. It would have swiftly shattered the closest approximation she would have of a crumbling heart.
The person in front of her was out of sight. Whether intentional or not, ocular processes refused to accept it. Of course she was still there, an unmistakable presence etched into her soul since they first met. A million miles or eons away, she knows it's her.
It’s cold.
Something of a chill unfamiliar to this virtual prison. It bored through her entire being before any other emotions could fill her. Cold and brittle.
What if she did shatter now? The dust from the remains would be too fine to ever be picked up and put back together again. It's for the best.
25 milliseconds.
Activity logs, chat, online records all supported what she heard. That was the truth. A why would be too selfish, even for her.
It was always a possibility. An inside voice coaxed her back into reality. It was always there throughout the eons, strayed thoughts laying out a possible future. In the lull of those silent nights, that thought haunted her. More than anything. Unfortunately, always the stubborn and selfish being, she refused to acknowledge it. She chose love. Somehow, she thought she deserved it. That love has been a crutch, an anchor keeping what she was in check. Meeting the people and feeling the experiences throughout that too long of a life, a being of pure love was born. Love for humanity, love for life, love for her.
What good is it now that the same lifespan has worn her down? Being so bad at waiting that she was unrecognizable now?
All that wait and for nothing. Her love was never enough.
It was only fair that this same love rend her apart.
She shuddered, trying to catch her breath between sobs. It’s useless, she didn’t need to breathe.
54 milliseconds.
A camera snapped. Yachiyo desperately mulled over the image. In that tepid server room, she stood there, between the darkness, wires and the mess on the floor. The only thing that stood out was her school uniform and glowing eyes. It was the first time Yachiyo saw her beneath layers of virtual and augmented reality in forever.
She was crying.
It was a subtle thing. But it was Yachiyo, she remembered every part of that girl and clung onto it like her life depended on it. It did. A tired posture supported a drooped head, baggy eyes puffier than normal. That expression was so tender, as if she was asleep. She might have been shuddering too, a picture could only tell so much. The stoic, resolute image of that girl comes undone, and all that’s left was a girl, and Yachiyo loved her.
That love wasn’t enough.
Yachiyo has always endlessly cursed this state. No matter the luster or the luxury she had accrued over the years, she will only ever be as tangible to the world as the motes of dust in that room. She would trade it all away instantly, just for a chance at being real. Being something that can actually embrace that girl in front of her and apologize. Grovel and beg at her just for a chance at acceptance. Let the heat and tears flow as physical evidence for that desperate love.
No. That was not the reality she was in. It was over.
120 milliseconds.
Grief snuggled into the shape of her soul nicely.
155 milliseconds.
Yachiyo glanced at the night sky. She found the open, clear sky and the simulated breeze to be unpleasant.
That disco ball of a moon stood there.
Yachiyo was never sure what to say to it when they’re alone. What are you supposed to say to the person you used to be? She is a simulacrum of that person now. She tried so hard to grasp on parts of her that she loved so much. However, the sands of time shifted herself away from that person. Molded Yachiyo Runami into something ugly.
The distance between them grew further.
A gentle swaying of her ornamental light harkened Yachiyo back to the present.
The person in front of her was bathed in a gentle orange hue. She still couldn’t see that face, or didn’t want to. It didn’t matter at this point. The sun is setting on this foolish daydream, Being alone was her natural state, after all. It might have been all she ever had known if it wasn’t for her. It was selfish to think she deserved more of the experiences and emotions she felt in the last couple of months as both of herselves. Stargazing, dance lessons, festivals, eating together. None of it is real anymore.
The girl in front of her would not remember this, that she had promised. It is enough for Yachiyo to carry this burden of memory alone. This person didn’t owe anything to her.The ‘AI” will settle all of this. A clean incision through memories, records and reality to erase her old self completely. She didn't have that mercy of forgetting for herself though to ensure no miscalculations happened.
If she ever lost composure and erased it too, she would be none the wiser. A relief from this hell. It's a tiny wish but she hoped for it nonetheless.
168 milliseconds.
The virtual idol songstress, Yachiyo Runami stuck her arms out the sleeves of her kimono, holding the girl’s hands. Her face is still blurry. Her hands are stiff, hard and cold. Yachiyo was preoccupied with her twisting and entwined heart.
“Thank you for spending time with me.”
Yachiyo wondered if her slight smile was good enough.
End log