Private - Oratorio Tangram

In the Real World…

It was night time in New York City, seven-fifty by the count of the gray-lined analog clock that hung on the light-blue wall of his hotel bedroom, the Tiffany Suite of the St. Regis Hotel. Inside the chic elegance of the extra-luxurious accommodations, a young, slightly athletic, one hundred forty-pound Japanese-American man sat comfortably in a blue and silver fauteuil while looking out the rain-spattered glass of the full-length window beside his king-sized bed. This young man is Takeo Kazuhara, the twenty-nine year old CEO of the Kazuhara Group, and he was tired.

Takeo looked like a living Greek god sculpted from ivory, with lights from the bustling city streets reflecting in his dark, vacant eyes of stone that peered through silky, ebony hair combed down. A tired frown formed on his lips, a strange compliment to the slightly angular visage of the quintessential example of Asian handsomeness. Nothing of his crisp Armani black business suit of the day remained; in its place, an ash-silver bath robe over his hard, sweaty runner’s physique with lean musculature and nearly-visible four pack abs.

Takeo intended to acclimate his body to the cold before he would take a steaming hot bath to wash away the fatigue, but before anything else, he needed to log in to his recently-acquired pastime and apply himself to something other than making contracts and connections.

Easily stored inside a traveler’s bag on the elevated coffee table in front of him, Takeo’s often-used Augma was replaced by a top-of-the-line AmuSphere FullDive System he had purchased prior to flying from Japan to the United States of America to while away the hours. It was a more practical system when out traveling since it was impossible to use an Augma’s real-time augmented reality interface in cramped or limited spaces like airplanes and hotel rooms.

In addition to that unconscious interface which the Augma is incapable of, another, and more important – to Takeo, at least – advantage of an AmuSphere over an Augma is that it kept unwanted incidents like the ‘Running Man Incident’ (See: ‘So A Whale Walks Into A Bar...’) from happening again. This was a foreign land with foreign customs, after all; suddenly running out in the streets like a man possessed was enough grounds to be detained, or worse – deported. That was something his already shaky reputation as a misanthropic miser could not handle.

Taking the device out from the bag, Takeo ambled over the bed and put the AmuSphere over his head. It was a different feeling compared to the Augma, but he did not dislike it; it was just that he, being an active person, preferred to let his body move his character than let his consciousness do it for him. Still, it had to do since he had no choice on the matter. It was either this or running around the Big Apple.

“Initiate FullDive sequence.”

Inside the Game…

Yuichi oriented himself as he entered the training hall specifically dedicated for hand-to-hand specialists like him. From the stationary corridor, it was easy to see that this section of the training hall rotated – through some magic artifact or enchantment within the stone slabs, most probably – in order to simulate the unpredictability if one’s surroundings during actual combat. The slow rotations gave the circular walls a somewhat disorienting and nauseating gravity necessary to teach those who chose to undergo this wholly optional tutorial phase for Body Combat players how to orient themselves as bare-knuckle fighters – something a runner like Yuichi sorely needed if he wanted to progress further in this strange new world.

Unlike the other portions of the building, however, this section of the training hall was not a large square, but rather a segmented cone which allowed for a more specialized training set for those who were serious about pursuing the rigorous training required in mastering the unarmed branch of the combat spectrum. The outer portion was wider and rotated more slowly, at a constant pace, than the narrower inner portions which started and stopped at random, with the speed and increments by which they did increasing and decreasing, respectively, the further into the cone one went.

All around this vast stone arena, other players who chose to specialize in Body Combat desperately tried to keep their balance while punching and kicking a steady stream of wooden men, tripping and falling over themselves like newborns. The more advanced of the lot, however, used their bodies and their circumstances to their favor – adapting quickly and striking fluidly like real life masters of the martial art. The main difference, as Yuichi observed, was that these players had learned to compensate for unknown variables through creative ways that allowed for creativity in their modes of attack, thereby truly making their entire bodies lethal weapons against anything they deemed as a threat.

Moving past the practitioners on the stone platforms, the brown-haired aspirant’s eyes focused on the small encircling on the outer edges of the rotating floors, were free weights, punching and speed bags, heavy ropes, and other crude apparatuses designed to stretch and tone the avatar’s virtual body. It did not take long for the young martial artist to get into the spirit of things and started with arm curls with a twenty kilogram barbell on each hand. It felt wrong – too light. Hence, Yuichi set the weights down and picked up a twenty-five kilogram set. That felt right. “Good,” he muttered to himself and started the motions to build up his combat stat.

For the last three weeks since he started playing TerraSphere, Yuichi had gone through a daily routine of stretching, isometric exercises, light sparring drills, and lots of in-game eating. Using his own strict regimen during preparations for marathons, Yuichi consumed five high-protein meals a day and worked out immediately thereafter. After every meal, he would go to the local training hall in Dunnstads for a series of multi-routine, high-impact training of his own design. Yuichi was looking forward to getting stronger in order to participate in more parties and more events in the future; as he were now, he was only a liability. He knew better than to rush it.

He missed the Event, that was true, but he had to accept the fact that he was not ready and that he had to go on – he had to recover and prove himself all over again in this virtual world. Yuichi wished that the seller he bought the Augma that contained TerraSphere from had had warned him. He could have prepared instead of learning the hard way that everything he had worked for in real life mattered little to his digital avatar no matter how fit he was outside the virtual world. Maybe that was the trick to the game – to learn to be prepared for anything. He would not let his guard down again.

He took a seat at the leg machine, set it to sixty kilograms in weight, but it felt too light once more. He moved up to another weight category; things felt normal again. Yuichi then continued to work every machine, then moved to a speed bag, a pig-skin leather ball attached to the floor and ceiling by a thick elastic band. There were only certain allowed frequencies at which the bag could be hit, or it gyrated chaotically. He knew it well; it was the same thing he did to improve his hand-eye coordination in real life. Too much power and the ball would fly around; too little and it would defeat the purpose of the entire exercise. So, pacing himself according to his avatar’s statistics, Yuichi began another portion of his regimen.

His fist jabbed forward, cobra-quick, and struck. Again. Then again. Then again. Things felt slow and off; a limitation imposed upon the player's vision since he was playing through the eyes of Yuichi, not Takeo. Yuichi huffed a sigh of exasperation and continued again despite feeling off. He would just compensate for this by actually hitting the punching bag later at the hotel’s gym. There, as Takeo, he could push himself as hard as he could in a way Yuichi could not as of yet. After all, it wasn’t the game that was out of calibration, Yuichi was.

“Slow and steady, mate. Just take things slow and steady,” he muttered under his breath and continued diligently with his routine. "Soon enough Yuichi, you will be as strong and fast I want you to be."

 

Harveste had never been to a proper training hall- or at least, she hadn't in game. Having taken martial arts as a child offline, she felt quite at home even though she lacked any real fighting talents in TerraSphere. No, she just fought with a book- a big, bulky, green book.

She hid her grimoire away for a moment, having been lugging it as a form of 'strength training' due to it's heft. Taking out some flowers she'd grown recently with her naturamancy, she wandered inside with hopes of giving the flora as a gift to the training hall's master, who she'd met once recently by sheer fluke. What was wrong with making friends with the master, even if she had no skills to train there? He was a nice fellow.

Sadly, even after having gotten her rogue levels up, she was clumsy in nature. Tripping, she was lucky to protect some of the flowers that tried to fall out of her hands by clutching tightly- leaving only her face and body to hit the ground. As she got up, getting teased by the training hall master when he saw her, she laughed timidly and gave him her gift, but kept one flower to herself as she turned to notice one of the people training. "Sorry, sir...But I have plans for this one."

With a hop, skip and a jump, the lavender haired faerin found her way towards a stranger. "Excuse me. Mister..." She paused, listening to him noting his name without noticing her yet. "Mister Yuichi. I beg your pardon, but I think it might help your form if you do some more breathing exercises first. Also, you're not really projecting your voice. It's normally important to include a battle cry of sorts when you let out a punch or kick. The energy in your breath, and that you let out when you cry out, helps with the energy in your punch."

 

Small droplets of artificial sprayed out from Yuichi’s face every time he made another punch at the double-end speed bag, his pace gradually becoming several degrees quicker once he had gotten used to the wild and entropic movements of the exercise tool. His body moved in tandem with his punches as it should, the muscular physique of the young man an active display of the wonders of natural mechanics as it bobbed and weaved with minute, lightning-quick adjustments that was almost second-nature. Yuichi moved like an amateur boxer on his way to his first professional fight – a picture of almost religious devotion to his craft, with every punch a dedication to the flippant and fickle goddess of victory in the hopes that she would smile down upon him.

Regardless of the artificial nature of the training exercise, Yuichi’s visage was nevertheless painted with calm intensity, his eyes predatory and knife-edged – a murderous gaze fixated on the single thing in the entire room that mattered to the aspiring martial artist. The sheer amount of concentration even caused lesser practitioners to walk away from the pretty-boy who let fly quick and controlled punches with milliseconds in-between blows. The bag was his enemy for that day, and until his virtual body managed to attain a sufficient amount of development points, the young man knew that he would not be stopping his regimen any time soon. He wanted strength – he needed it, to be specific; enough to be able to participate in Events as a reliable member of a party.

In the middle of his forty-seventh repetition of ten-count snap-jabs, his concentration broke when an unfamiliar voice called out his character’s name as if he were an acquaintance, forcing him to stop. He was greeted by the sight of a young girl, a Faerin, if he had remembered the race information on the different game avatars correctly.

A petite and bony lass with the body type of a child, the character model was as underdeveloped as a ten-year old girl, with hardly any toned musculature that indicated a lifestyle with little to no physical activity. Nevertheless, she managed to compliment her look well by curling her smooth purple hair into elegant pigtails tied by red ribbons into a bun, allowing the excess to flow down her body up to her small hips. Her flawless, ivory skin far surpassed his; a trait, Yuichi thought, was common to all Yladian and Faerin character models. To top it all off, she dressed in frilly clothes that showed gratuitous amounts of skin as if blatantly contradicting her childish appeal with a more mature one – one that is far above what her character's physical appearance portended.

A moe character archetype? He thought to himself. This person must have spent a lot of time and effort designing the character model. Definitely an otaku – most definitely.

As if the sight of a child-like character had not surprised him enough, she then began to tell him how he should employ shouts into his routine, explaining in detail how the act of releasing one’s voice would somehow increase the power his punches. This caused Yuichi to raise an eyebrow, mentally pondering on whether or not the Faerin understood what exactly punching on a speed bag was meant to train. Applying too much power would actually be counter-productive on the speed bag since striking the ball too hard would cause it to bounce wildly and out of rhythm. Even so, he noted the advice as something he could try out later once he would move on to the punching bag for strike and power training. After all, she seemed to mean well; that itself deserved a degree of consideration even if her advice was for the wrong fitness instrument.

Motivated by the spirit of appreciation for the kind gesture of making her way to impart soon-to-be useful advice, Yuichi wiped off the sweat from his avatar’s brow and flashed a practiced smile, a small yet genuine one he had learned to do from interacting with characters like Sylpha Astarte and Annabelle Zhang. It was not much, but he hoped that the lavender-haired mite would just accept it as it is without commenting on how strange it looked. He still had to practice the concept of ‘sincerity’, after all.

“Well hello there, ma’am,” he started in a polite tone of voice that spoke American English with an accent almost comparable to that of native speaker. “I appreciate the advice – I might try it out later on the punching bag when I finish up with improving my hand-eye coordination with this speed bag,” explained Yuichi. “Increasing my power with this exercise would actually cause the speed bag to go in all directions – the trick is to apply ‘just enough’ to cause the bag to swing into a steady rhythm.”

Yuichi nodded respectfully then retook his stance before the double-ended speed bag once again. As if to indirectly thank the girl for her kindness, the pretty-boy let out a full-power right hook followed by an audible “Hiyah!” for emphasis, which caused the speed bag to violently swing in all directions while its straps twanged like broken harp strings. The fighter then craned his head slightly towards his petite benefactor and winked at her. “Well look at that, ma’am; your advice worked like a charm,” said Yuichi with a chuckle before he continued with his coordination exercises.

 

As the man tried out the punching advice, the girl clapped a bit, trying to clap to the beat of his punches. Her head continued to sway from one side to another, and as he seemed to finish his repetition, she held the flower she'd kept to him. "Martial arts come with a great deal of tradition. Even on a speed bag, you should keep an eye on things like your form. I may not have the skills in this world, but back home, I had some practice." Okay, so calling herself any sort of master would be a total lie- but she was't saying she had any real 'mastery' in it even in reality.

"I took a little tae-kwon-do and karate when I was young. They always told us even with speed, the most important thing is form and power. If you don't put your all into each punch, even the fastest punch could be useless. However, what's also important is the strength of your mind, spirit and heart. So, have a flower to help soothe your soul, so that it may remain pure and strong as the bloom."

She had to admit, she was feeling embarrassed by her words. Sure, they really were things she'd been taught- but her way of wording it was likely a bit awkward, even if slightly poetic. As a writer, she was showing her wisdom poorly, apparently having taken too much of her work thoughts into the game when she logged in that day. "I know it probably sounded weird the way I put it but...Did I at least make some general sense?"

 

Words of an enlightened mind graced his ears, although Yuichi would have to admit that the message it contained needed a few simple tweaks to help convey the thought through. Even so, the Faerin did a fairly decent job of explaining her side of the story and sharing a wonderful philosophy regarding one’s own development through the practice of the martial arts. Yuichi’s player was not one who had any experience with any art of self-defense, but even he understood the importance of form, power, and technique. They were the three integral beats in the deadly waltz of any self-defense style; a common denominator that equalized all types of fighting from Aikido to Street. With it, men and women who have learned to dance to the beat have carved out legends – something Yuichi wanted for himself as well.

For the second time in that instance, the brown-haired aspirant stopped his punching routine and turned to the Faerin who presented him with a flower. It was a quaint little thing; a gesture of fellowship that seemed to lead down to intentions Yuichi had no desire to explore. He tried to ignore it at first, but with how this connection was being railroaded into something more than a casual meeting raised warning flags and alarm bells inside. While there was a possibility that the player-character before him was genuinely trying to forge a bond from nothing, he had to be sure. Trust was not something he could easily afford to give freely. So many times he had done so, and for each and every single time, he was met with disappointment and heartbreak.

Never again, he said to himself mentally. If he were to trust again, he needed to be sure that the person actually deserved it. He was tired of casting pearls before swine.

“Yes, I understood it perfectly – would you care to correct me if I made a mistake?” Yuichi answered, plucking the offered flower from its offeror’s petite hand and beamed his practiced smile as if it were genuine. He placed the flower near his face and twirled it in his fingers, allowing his digits to familiarize themselves with the digital construct as if they were real. “In short, what you are trying to say is that I should remain humble in my pursuit of martial perfection, like how even the most beautiful flower blooms in silence and solitude. To that end, in giving me this flower, you hope that it would serve to remind me – an aspiring fighter – to place virtue before vice, values before vanity, and principles before personalities. Did I get that right?”

A thorough analysis of vague motherhood statements to be sure, but drawing from Takeo’s own knowledge of culture, philosophy, and semantics, he was fairly confident that he elicited the intention behind the Faerin’s explanation. He could be wrong, but that was the best interpretation he could manage. He hoped it would be enough – or, at least, correct enough – to merit the Faerin’s approval.

Having finished evoking a mental double-take on the Faerin’s own words, Yuichi then proceeded to snap the flower given to him at the stem, leaving behind only a small portion of the same. He then extended his hand and placed the flower into the young lady’s ear – a simple gesture in itself, but one that seemed to fit the situation at hand. Besides, the flower suited her more than it did him as he had to admit; the child-like avatar looking quite charming with the additional floral accessory nestled within her beautiful violet locks.

“Ma’am, I have no idea what motivated you to choose me over anyone else in this room and I have no intention to pry,” he said, his voice still retaining an amicable tone. “However, I think that you would find associating with me so openly to be far more trouble than it would be worth,” Yuichi explained. “I thank you for your helpful words, the gift of a beautiful flower, and for the time you spent attending to me. But trust me, ma’am, even I would consider myself as unworthy of your precious time.”

The admission was candid and without reserve; a truth laced in honeyed words that offered mercy to whomever controlled the Farin and for whatever reason she chose to interact with him. Being the CEO of an emerging medical device manufacturer, it was to be expected that he would have dozens of people wanting to get some leverage on him for their own nefarious ends. It would be inevitable that such third parties would ruin whatever safety he had in TerraSphere unless he was careful and kept his close contacts to a minimum. It was not hard for a misanthrope like Takeo, but even so, he knew he still needed to let people in to help overcome his social awkwardness. Hence, he only chose those who truly wanted to get to know him better into his inner circle. This was a test to see the truth behind the Faerin’s seemingly altruistic intentions.

Having left the conversation of a cliffhanger, the avatar walked away from the elfin girl towards the punching bags to apply what he had been taught by the girl. He shook his head free of any guilt – it was better that way. He did not need people whom he saw as merely fair-weather companions or insincere fops who caroused with anyone on a whim. Takeo’s intention for TerraSphere was for social rehabilitation. Nothing else mattered.

 

As he reiterated her words in more a logical method, the small girl smiled and nodded in agreement. "That's right on target! Well done, sir! The important thing for a fighter is to have both a strong body and mind. If you keep working hard, you'll surely do great things."

Her words rang true in her mind, buts as the man seemed to deprecate himself, acting as if he weren't worth the time of anyone, let alone a young girl with nothing better to do, Harveste could only frown. Her eyes were soon cast downward, a small embarrassment on her face from having a flower she grew put in her own hair, when it was something she'd intended to give to someone else.

"I don't believe anyone is unworthy of friendship. There's no harm in associating with someone, especially someone who is clearly working hard. If anything, don't you think hard-workers are the ones that are the most gainful to meet? For people who aren't so energetic or motivated, it can help them learn the essence of ambition."

At the very least, Harveste often thought about it that way. While she was a hermit in reality outside a few book deals, she was actually quite adventurous in the virtual world. Meeting new people, seeing new things- experiences were great for a writer to get their hands on. And, when she met such interesting and devoted people, why wouldn't she try to learn from them?

The man slowly walked away to go through his own training program once more, leaving the small girl alone with a pout on her face. Sighing, she hummed softly and wandered to a nearby planter, snipping a gladiolus she'd purposely chosen to grow from it's soil. She lurked to find the man's belongings, before finally opting to hold it out to him at the punching bag.

"I know not your name, but I see a bright future for you. So, have a flower that suits you better...After all, the gladiolus is a flower that in floral language implies strength of character and heart. If you accept it, I'll have been able to do what I came here for, and be able to leave with the joy of a new encounter within."

 

Various fighters of different sizes and strengths lined the portion of the hall where the punching bags were placed, their bodies the best evidence of their labor in improving their martial arts prowess in-game. The pretty-boy could not help but stare at the effort put forth by the others of his chosen specialization, their ideals being slowly transformed into reality with each and every strike they placed onto the swinging person-length burlap sack that acted as a medieval punching bag. He did not mind that he had to wait for several minutes to be able to use one once it became available; he had nothing better to do anyway, having finished his speed bag routine with only one other exercise left to do.

Just when the aspiring fighter was about to push himself into yet another regime of rigorous training, he was met with the young elfin girl yet again; this time waving a particular kind of plant she referred to as a gladiolus. He did not know anything about horticulture to be able to tell flowers apart so her explanation about what it was and what giving one to another meant in the language of flowers was rather helpful. Nevertheless, her manner of explaining her reason for what he could only deem as a somewhat obsessive desire to befriend him – a complete stranger at that – to be wary of. After all, with his profession to consider, he could never be too sure about anyone, especially the overtly friendly ones.

Mustering his previous politeness from the interaction before, Yuichi addressed the elfin yet again; this time becoming more direct and confrontational since subtle hints to make her reveal her true intention – or, at least, what Takeo could accept as truth – for wanting to make a connection where there was none before. Logic dictated this seemingly insensitive, if not outright rude, plan of action, but seemingly altruistic people like the girl who offered him the flower actually worried Yuichi the most. As to why, it was simple: he saw himself in them – covering up a darker, sinister persona behind one of smiles and giggles; a ditzy façade to conceal a heartless monster lurking beneath. He saw that in her, and for that reason, he was expectedly reluctant in accepting her.

“Ma’am, do you know what a tangram is?” he began, wholly ignoring the offered flower in favor of the purple-haired Faerin offering it. He continued, the question purely rhetorical since he knew that only a good few people knew of it. “A tangram is a shadow puzzle where you try to fix seven differently-sized blocks together to recreate the shape of the shadow presented. Not a lot of people know about it, but it is quite an entertaining game meant to exercise the mental capacity of a person tasked with solving it. For me, however, a tangram is something far more useful than just an old parlor game.”

Having given up on continuing his routine for now, the young man walked back and took a seat on a nearby bench. If he was going to play this little game with the Faerin, he would at least give himself a comfortable place to conduct it. He was due for one anyway since she had already curled his brain by having him interpret the message behind her words of wisdom. It was only fair that he be allowed to do the same thing to her.

“I may not look it, but I actually like classical music,” Yuchi confessed. “Brahms, Mozart, Beethoven, and the old masters – they took time to produce their craft, and it shows; hundreds of years have passed and their compositions are still a staple in any sound track or sound bite.” The avatar raised his left hand as if to present an idea in material form. “However, out of these, I prefer the music of George Frederic Handel. As such, let me explain to you the current debacle I am having right now. Help me resolve it, and we shall see if your flower truly deserves to be in my possession. What I am asking for you to do is simple – relay your thoughts and imaginations to be as I present you lines from Handel’s oratorio, Judas Maccabeus. But I urge you to leave whenever you feel this is beginning to become a chore.”

The words left him with the calm confidence only a cultured man could have, his expression brimming with readiness to perform as if a conductor before a grand orchestra in London. This was where Takeo thrived; a public scene where he captivated and manipulated his audience with the sheer force of his adopted persona. Fake and artificial, it nevertheless allowed him to catapult to the top of his game along with hard work and dedication. Now he was going to use it to attempt to explain himself in a way that was both entertaining and, for himself, a small step towards a more candid interaction unlike what the Faerin wanted to impose through a simple gesture.

“♪♫~So will'd my father now at rest
In the eternal mansions of the blest:
"Can ye behold," said he "the miseries,
In which the long-insulted Judah lies?
Can ye behold their dire distress,
and not, at least, attempt redress?"
Then, faintly, with expiring breath:
"Resolve, my sons, on liberty, or death."~ ♪♫”​

Yuichi’s voice was translated perfectly in digitized form, the operatic quality of his singing voice a proper homage to the great tenors who graced the stage to sing their bombastic arias as if singing to the heavens themselves. It was not professional, but it was nevertheless beautiful – yet hiding a facet of himself that he doubted the curious elfin would notice. Not unless she listened in its whole, disregarding all pretenses of a quick and easy bond like some cheap trinket one could buy anywhere.

 

When asked if she knew what a tangram was, the girl stared rather idly. "Of course I know what they are. I love puzzles!" Giggling, she added, "I actually have a tangram app on my phone for when I'm stuck in traffic. Some of them are easy to me and I can do them in under a minute. Others are harder and can take at least five. But it's pretty amazing, how the different shapes all combine, right? Just like how a team requires different types of people to work, because we cover each other's different skills and weaknesses that way."

Wile she wasn't sure how good that was compared to other people, Harveste took pride in her puzzle skills...Most of the time, at least. Even she had puzzles she was bad at. Sudoku? Crosswords? She loved them, but she was far from skilled. Give her a word search, tangram, anagram, or a jigsaw though...It'd take time, but she'd complete it with excitement.

"In reality, I'm not as much of a listener as I could be. I have strange hearing, so for me, I'm very picky about what I listen to and when. My volume is always pretty low. But, in terms of classical, I always have had a love for Beethoven. His music is so shocking at times, and yet so inspiring. It's great to write to!"

With a grin, she kept her eyes on the man and his form, when he started singing himself. Unlike her, his song wasn't inbued with magic- but it was sung in such a well produced manner, his voice carrying well, his breathing so careful and precise. "Did you take vocal lessons as a kid too, mister? Your diaphragm breathing is well practiced, and I can tell you'd be great in a chorus. Can we sing that together next time? It's not a song I know well, but I'll learn it. I'm a bit of a low soprano or high alto myself, so I think together we'd blend well!"

Though she'd stayed his entire song, she hadn't actually answered his challenge yet. The words to the song were too much for her to think about him himself, but rather simply focusing on the story within. There was a part of her that more than wanted to just give him a hug from hearing it, though- his voice, along with the song itself, was a bit of a sad one to her. Singing to him her answer, she felt her smile tug tightly with sadness, her words projecting it unintentionally, flowers blooming and drooping, as if wilting in her grief.

"♪♫ When one we love passes by,
Not a word of solace can provide
The warmth we long for, nor the warmth we need.
You try your best to earn your keep,
You try your best just not to weep,
But no matter who, death will always seek you.
Still, you mustn't waver~
Still you must move on~
Even if your heart is shattered,
The song will still live on~. ♪♫"​

She wasn't sure he'd understand her message. That she felt his song showed longing and loss, troubled by a hole that hadn't healed up from being told such a cruel, sad fate. To be told by a parent or teacher to either find your freedom or die was far from comforting- but at the same time, it was a true fact in life, she knew. "I may not know your true intentions, but I know that, just from your voice alone, I can at least hear your heart. It still beats, and is still warm, so surely you'll find your answer someday soon."

 

A slight guffaw escaped him, noting the sadness inherent in the lyrics being a complete opposite to the honeyed tones of a well-practiced singing voice. Every syllable the Faerin uttered was charged with emotion, deep and genuine, yet it was that incredible singing skill that made the young man wonder whether or not the emotions he thought he was hearing were real or merely a tone adopted by the singer like how an actor dons a mask for a role. In a way, they were both the same in that they shared something that spurred them to withdraw into a made-up fantasy world where they could leave their troubles behind, even if but for a second. He could be wrong though, and if he was, he would be more than happy to admit to it; he had no reason to keep up faces with a complete stranger like the elfin.

With her latest comment, he shook his head while entertaining her suggestion out of courtesy. “No, I have not – never had. I just listen to classical music a lot and go to opera performances once in a while as a formal thing; a requirement, even, in my line of work,” Yuichi confessed. “Most people in high society go there just to put on airs of sophistication, you know – fakers who think that attending a simple performance would offer them the je ne sais quois they sorely lack. New money insecurities to be sure; a trivial matter, but one that lowers the standard of the art since it becomes a mere accessory to increase one’s appeal than a thing to be appreciated admired.”

He continued. “Also, I do not think I would be choir material since I have no time for anything else outside of gaming within TerraSphere. Too much to do in real life, and about things I would rather keep to myself since I do not want to burden you with things that do not concern you as of yet.” He smirked and patted his chest. “As for my heart – I doubt that. I sincerely doubt that, ma’am. Then again, that does not concern you, too; you already have a lot on your plate as I could assume.”

Then he pursued the train of thought he thought she was trying to express through her melodic words. “My guess is that you had been through the wringer, it seems – loss, family problems, societal anxiety, and maybe even a hint of depression, maybe? Yet you soldier on, despite the pain, because that is all you can do as you are, a simple human being outside this enchanted world filled with impossible things you could only dream of.” He nodded in agreement to his own off-hand assessment of the song. “This is just me, by the way; piecing together the shattered picture behind your song’s lyrics. Sweet as they may be, I think that those honeyed words of yours hide a bitterness from the pill you had to swallow just to remain sane.” The fighter snickered. “Or maybe you are just that good of an actress.”

Yuichi turned his eyes squarely at the purple-haired Faerin with a gaze that held pity and confusion at the same time. He had no idea how these ‘first-time interactions’ were supposed to go since the ones he had with Sylpha and Annabelle were not exactly by-the-book. Still, from what the recovering misanthrope could gleam from such strange, yet elucidating experiences, he had a working template on how ‘typical’ human interactions would go – candid and honest. Thus, this elfin girl presented some sort of an enigma, in that she seemed to be one thing yet presented another; two images reflecting from a single mirror: one a cheerful and open bubble of energy, and the other, a sad existence trying to eke out a normal existence, even if it meant grasping at straws in a virtual world.

“So, I wonder which one are you, madam? Such a strange thing you are,” the pretty-boy blurted out; a rhetorical question to be sure, but one that seemed to invite an answer that was just as vague as the query presented. Regardless, it was his turn to pose another portion of the puzzle in the form of another portion of Handel’s oratorio.

“♪♫~Be comforted, nor think these plagues are sent
For your destruction, but for chastisement.
Heav'n oft in mercy punisheth, that sin
May feel its own demerits from within,
And urge not utter ruin. Turn to God,
And draw a blessing from His iron rod~ ♪♫”​

His voice descended deeper into a low tenor-to-bass tone, emphasizing every syllable that were related to sin and punishment. It was Yuichi’s way to paint a much clearer picture of his circumstances, although it could be argued that he was simply trying – and failing – to match the other’s angelic singing voice. It might have been an inherent skill from the player behind the character or, as this game has proven, an artificial method of improving the player-character’s skill through certain acquired Masteries. Still, he felt obliged to do so, just so he could say to himself that he tried to. That and it seemed like there was not much else to do than sing with a seasoned songstress like some Disney movie.

 

Harveste giggled a bit as he explained high society a bit to her. She'd heard many nobles, whether in game or in the real world, were fond of things like opera and the like. Did that make the writer less cultured, since she'd never been?

"I used to go to the city to see musicals with a friend sometimes- she was older and had good work, so she paid for me to go with her sometimes. But...I've never been to operas or anything like that. They seem too awkward for me to think about, even, based on TV. I find musicals rough because they're kind of loud at points, too. Same with movies."

As he continued about his interest in classical music, she couldn't help a faint smile that lingered at her lips. "Classical music is wonderful, since it tends to be milder and easy on the ears...Though Beethoven, one of the greats to me, can be a little rough on my head. But classics are fun to try to play on the piano. The only one I'm particularly good at is Neko Funjata- or rather, The Cat's Waltz...It's rare I get to hear it outside my own playing. Do you know that one?"

With a mild curiosity, she began to hum the tune- a somewhat polka-like melody the way she timed it, her fingers acting as if she were playing a keyboard without having one around, just to memorize the enchanting tune close to her heart. As she ended her unintended display, she felt her hand move to scratch at her neck idly.

She hadn't actually meant to do that- it was just a reflex to the song's name.

"You're pretty perceptive in a few ways, aren't you, sir? But there's some parts you're a bit off on. I do have the anxiety and depressive tendencies, but my anxiety isn't social- it's just generalized. I'm actually doing well with the family issues at this point, but when I was young, it was much more troubling. I do play games a lot to help me experience things more, though. If I don't experience lots of things, it's hard to write about them."

Oops! She was talking about the real world- and more importantly, work- in a place where it didn't really fit. Another fit of anxious giggles left her throat, the flesh of which was becoming somewhat dry from use. She'd have to find a sip of water soon, most likely. There was likely some in the training hall, right? Hydration was important for training...

Shaking her concerns out of her mind, she listened once more to his words as he began to sing from a song she had to learn in the near future once more. The new piece of the puzzle was a bit more distant feeling- a spiritual portion that somehow didn't feel like it quite resonated the way the earlier moments of the tune had. "The question to me in that section is...Does that imply sinners punish themselves without thought, since heaven doesn't intend to do so? And if the plagues aren't sent for our destruction, just what are they sent for? Makes me think a bit of that poem from one of the anime I like...The waves of the Epitaph of Twilight somehow sound similar to me. Perhaps they were inspired by this song, as you are."

 

That was it – that was what Yuichi had been waiting for, a glimpse of the truth behind the smiles and the seemingly random acts of charity. It had only been for a fleeting moment brought about by lapse in judgment or a simple slip of the tongue, but that sudden onset of candidness and vulnerability allowed Takeo to see the small fraction of reality behind what was otherwise another cookie-cutter, make-believe interaction – a dream within a dream that ended as soon as he would log off.

He nodded his head for the first time in their meeting, genuine interest in what meager parts of the elfin girl’s real life she had mistakenly shared with the stranger. It drove home her point with more effectiveness than any of her previous attempts did, and for once since their interaction, actually elicited something from the avatar other than off-hand comments, analyses, and oratorios.

“I would not say perceptive would be the right word – more like practical,” he admitted with a hum, allowing his right hand to rub his chin in contemplation. “I have had a lot of practice with all sorts of people, from simple customers who try to hide the financial strain of buying our products to high-powered board room bullies who push their way around just because they have a higher gross annual income than everyone else. But in the end, I can only try to make sense of the real you from the things you share, like trying to arrange a tangram’s different shapes to form the shadow on the wall. That is, after all, the purpose of ‘meetings’ such as this one; or so I can gleam from the scant few I have had since starting with this game.”

The words left his lips with a note of nostalgia and a faint, unpracticed, but genuine smile etched on the avatar’s lips as he reminisced of his interactions so far. Ever since the first few hours he had played in TerraSphere, he had met a well-endowed Yladian with height issues; had been savaged by Kobolds countless times to the point of near-death; met a Felin with whom he had strange, morally questionable interactions with; chased by crabs; chased by muscle-bound naked men with murderous intent; pitched an entire tavern into a frenzy; and formed a bond with a ghost whale – all within a span of a day of creating his character. At that point, he had quite a realization to deal with—

—TerraSphere is insane.

Yuichi laughed off the zaniness he had experienced thus far and turned back to the elfin girl. She seemed rather off now compared to how she was before. Her face somewhat showed it, but there was really no way to tell since Yuichi was only good at reading in between the lines, but not so much with faces. He had to work on that, Takeo noted; for now, it would be an exercise in ‘consideration’. Thus, without waiting for the Faerin to explicitly blurt out her needs to him, Yuichi took the initiative and asked her outright, flashing his practiced smile once more.

“♪♫~Hey you there, come on,
Little girl, come on;
Let us go get something good to drink;
Like some orange juice,
Or some cold iced tea;
Maybe just a glass of cold water~♪♫”​

His song this time was an invitation, sung to the tune of Neko Funjatta – indirectly answering her question posed earlier, and even going to far as incorporating his own spin to the notes by lyricizing what he wanted to say. Then, making good on the little snippet’s lyrics, he got up from his seat and motioned for the elfin to come along; it was the least he could do for someone who was willing to sit through his little games for as long as she did. Still, as Yuichi was still in the mood to play, he was not about to let things off despite the fact that this was supposed to be an intermission, or so it would seem.

“♪♫~Wise men, flatt'ring, may deceive us
With their vain, mysterious art;
Magic charms can ne'er relieve us,
Nor can heal the wounded heart.
But true wisdom can relieve us,
Godlike wisdom from above;
This alone can ne'er deceive us,
This alone all pains remove~♪♫”​

The oratorio’s tune was now mellowed out to an almost upbeat tune, but never once swaying beyond the bombastic rhythm of its previous incarnations. Upon this melody did Yuichi lead the way towards a small tavern inside Dunnstads’ training hall where those who have, or will work up, a sweat come to quench their thirsts before anything else.

At the Dunnstads Training Hall Tavern…

The training hall’s own little tavern, the Stone Fist Bar, is a favorite spot of most training hall patrons for its cheap drinks and traditional log cabin vibe. Decorated in grand décor from animal skins to mounts, the lodge-like atmosphere is directly accented by its all-wood furniture since every bar stool and table is made with high-quality Thunderwood Oak, straight from the stormy peaks of Pormont. Bartenders and servicers in period-appropriate attire serve its seemingly endless streams of customers of all shapes and sizes. While occasional hanky-panky may happen here, courtesy of the unrulier patrons who pay a visit every so often, generally, the Stone Fist Bar the place to be for a one-of-a-kind experience.

“And we are here,” Yuichi said, opening the wooden double-doors to let his petite companion in. Ladies first, after all.

 

As the man chose to ad lib his final song to her favorite tune, the girl returned the attempt in kind. For each line he said, she sang one not nearly as planned out or rhyming. She merely sang her heart, watching it waltz on the wind of her breath.

“♪♫~Thank you sir,
Kind soul you are
To offer a glass of ale~
Small I may be,
But I hope you will see,
I am of age to be your ally~♪♫”​

Even as he began to sing amidst the intermission to leave as a pair, Harveste was somewhat slow following him, eyes darting around the room for moments at a time, taking in what she'd missed when entering before the mental sketches were enough. She knew she'd forget much of it later, but the general ideas would surely stay in tact. Similarly, his words had rung through her very core as she neared him, exiting the building before responding with her timed rebuttal.

“♪♫~No man or lady is pure
They're full of ills with no cure
They have sins and have doubts,
In their minds, famine and droughts
But even the impure are pure~
In this I can be sure.
Purity is a myth from long ago,
But civility lasts a lifetime, no?~♪♫”​

She knew how rather abstract her choice of phrases were, but they fit things she used to say quite a bit. To Harveste, many things were 'myths'. Perfection? That was a definite myth (one she still tried to find regularly, but a myth!). Life itself, in many ways, was the biggest riddle or myth she'd gotten her hands on from youth.

Now that she thought about it, what other puzzles did this man like...?

---

Entering the Stone Fist Bar as the man held the door for her, she bowed politely to thank him, a small smile on her face. "I haven't been to this one yet myself. Do you frequent here? Actually...I can't recall getting your name. Oh my...I followed a stranger into a bar, but I felt so at ease. You're quite the smooth operator, as they're called, aren't you?"

Small giggles left her thin lips as she ran ahead to find a good seat. She opted to take one of the tables near the windows- there were a lot of plus points there, in her mind. Sure, there were awkward people outside, but the stools were lower, making them easier to sit on. To top the cake, there was the lovely plants just outside in her view! To share a lovely view and a nice meal- wasn't this quite the day?

"Sorry...I just rushed to a table I thought I could reach. Small limbs and all, hard to get up to the bar. Is this table okay? Then I can finally try to get your name."

 

A flash of purple streaked in front of Yuichi as the elfin girl darted clear across the room and reserve for herself and himself a table near the window with a clear view of the various flowers and other plants that were part of the scenery that made the port city shine in the sunset. It was supposed to be a romantic scene hailed by lovers near and far as one of the most perfect places to spend special occasions in, but Yuichi himself only considered the stunning visuals a mere replication – a phantasmal copy – created within the dream called TerraSphere. Reality trumped, and shall always trump, fantasy as far as the aspirant was concerned, but he would allow the Faerin to her own devices as a courtesy. It was but proper considering all the hoops he was having her jump in for his own reasons – fair was fair, after all.

When the comment came about the pretty-boy being a smooth operator invaded his ears, the young man could only roll his eyes. The street jargon fell dead upon him, as if such Takeo had time to acquaint himself with such things; he could understand what it meant context-wise, but the brutal and perverted meaning behind such an implication only caused the martial artist to cringe in his shoes. If the girl had mistakenly pegged him for someone he knew for a fact he was not, he would no doubt make every effort that was within his power to do in order to rectify that view. There was nothing worse than unsubstantiated gossip anyway; it was only his misfortune that a majority of people would allow themselves to be fooled by such without ascertaining the truth for themselves.

“I am not as smooth as you think, ma’am,” defended Yuichi in the hopes of correcting the elf’s point of view. “Actually, I am just equally curious that you repose your trust in a stranger so easily despite having barely known them. Strange as it may be, I am envious of that – to almost instantly be capable of exercising the paradox of faith and logic known as ‘trust’.” The martial artist then turned around to grab some food and drink from the bar counter, but not before making it known that he did not mind wherever she wanted to go. “Go on ahead, ma’am; sit wherever makes you comfortable. I am personally fine anywhere.”

10 Minutes Later…

Yuichi returned to the table with two mugs of frothing butterbeer while a waitress followed close behind with a large plate of assorted foodstuffs seemingly fit for a king. It was only when the pretty-boy and the pretty maid unloaded their hefts did the contrast of offerings give a homey elegance to the somewhat crude, yet undoubtedly delicious-looking feast – more than enough to satiate the gastronomic needs of two people and then some. This might be their first meeting, but as far as Yuichi was concerned, a gesture of this level was nothing. After all, in real life, Takeo was used to treating others to ostentatious displays to show off his power and wealth, so he – now as Yuichi – thought nothing wrong of his virtual avatar being the same when he could afford it—

—and it shows.

A giant slab of boar meat glistened in the center of the platter, its crispy brown skin and perfectly-browned meat bathing in its own mouth-watering juices, enticing gourmets into partaking of it like a beautiful river nymph bathing in the open. Potato wedges and vegetable sticks surrounded the main course as entrées, each piece of potato, carrot, and celery arranged in a way to mimic a lotus pattern, complete with generous drizzling of ranch dressing and honey mustard, each in equal portions, so as to create a stark contrast yet harmonious taste with every bite. Accenting this large platter were the two mugs of butterbeer, their golden liquid adding a casual sophistication to the meal to be shared, and more importantly, a smooth drink to wash down all the calories to be taken in that day.

“Here you go, ma’am, please help yourself,” said Yuichi before he lowered his head to his chest and clasped his hands in prayer.

“♪♫~From mighty kings he took the spoil,
And with his acts made Judah smile.
Judah rejoiceth in his name,
And triumphs in her hero's fame. ~♪♫”​

His voice this time was more solemn to reflect a prayerful vibe, the subtle changes in rhythm with every uttered syllable like a processional march towards the altar of God during a Catholic mass. His manner, too, reflected a regal tone; a small yet essential detail that held a deep meaning to those who notice it and decipher what it meant when taken in with the lyrics. Thus, when he finished his song-prayer, Yuichi too, returned to his calm and casual mien and flashed his companion the small smile he had been presenting to her since he had met her.

“Why is it that you desire to know a name?” he inquired, offhandedly adding to the Faerin’s last train of thought in the form of musings. “Would it bring you fame? Fortune? Maybe a sense of relief in knowing for knowing’s sake? To give a name just to be forgotten, for in the sea of names and the sea of experiences, one would ought to forget one in exchange for the other. Such is a sad yet irrefutable truth – hence, would it not be better to just live in the moment without names? In that way, you can take away the memory of an experience, not the memory of a name that would soon be forgotten.”

He nodded, affirming his conveyed idea to add emphasis to his words. Then, upon finishing his piece, Yuichi sought his mug and raised it to his companion, all the while waiting for dialogue, if any, from the Faerin, in case he had not wrung out any intention for her to do so with his reasoning.

“To memories, not names,” exclaimed the pretty-boy then took a swig of the virtual beverage, letting the sweetness of the butterbeer coat his throat.

 

"For someone like me whose memory is quite intermittent at best- I admit already that I've aged poorly- I find names quite important. As a writer, as well, the meaning of a name can show me a lot about a person. Besides, I'm only asking a username in this case. If I just keep calling you "you" when I see you, wouldn't that feel to...I don't know, rude?"

She avoided the meat for the moment as she found herself carefully putting together a plate of the food brought to them. She was unusually specific with how her plate was set up. Vegetables were kept near each other, separated slightly, and never touching the meat on the other side. No piece of her personal meal was to touch each other, if she could help it.

As she ate, she picked at them quite similarly. She finished one piece of her plate first before going to the next. With food, Harveste was a purist- she wouldn't eat things mixed, only separated and struggling to keep them such. There was far too much food for a person, and probably even for two. That this man opted to choose such a lavish menu only made her worry.

"Isn't this a bit much, even for a toast? You'll have to tell me just how much it was so I can at least pay for half. If I can even afford such." She laughed a bit timidly, lifting the mug of buttery broth that he had lead to lift for a cheerful toast. His reasoning confused her slightly, but she joined his chant of memories anyway, before taking a small sip of the liquid.

There was a mixture of warmth and sweetness that surprised her. She'd never had such a drink, but could easily enjoy it thanks to the texture making her feel like it was a warmed milkshake. The warmth was likely from something she knew she'd struggle with later, but she opted not to complain, since the sweetness overpowered any concerns she might entertain. "You seem fond of memories, don't you? What memories do you treasure the most, I wonder?"

 

Mental notes were once more jotted down, piecing together a working picture of the elfin from Yuichi’s point of view. He listened intently when she explained notions of etiquette from her point of view, and justified the same as things which are important for her to know and act upon if only for the reason of maintaining a modicum of civility. The idea of adhering to manners inside a game that allowed the most perverse and extreme acts to be done without any kind of lasting repercussions viciously amused him; a farce, at best, in a world where anything went so long as one had the power to back it up. Thus, the game inherently followed the universal adage: only the strongest survive while the weak shall be food for the strong.

In TerraSphere, that harsh truth was clear – power was everything, and as long as you had power, you can do anything you want without consequence. This virtual world was built for that kind of freedom, so the notion of a player sticking by to societal rules was absurd to the martial artist. Still, he could not deny that he still adhered to some extent to his own principles in real life, so he had no say; they were both idiots to some extent, he and the player character before him. As such, the pretty-boy found it only proper to support his previous train of thought with some experiential justifications.

“I personally do not find it rude, so if it satiates your desire, feel free to call me by whatever name you want no matter how derogatory such a name may be,” invited Yuichi, his smile sliding into a sly grin. “You see, my dear girl, names just do not matter to me unless they fall under two distinct and mutually exclusive categories. Such is the way this game has taught me, and for my purposes, it shall continue to be until I am done with what I have obligated myself to do.” He nodded and reached out for a piece of crisped pork skin, pulled out a generous amount that nearly fell off from the bone, and then devoured it. Meat juices fell from the edges of his lips, but the martial artist licked them up before they went too far and reach his chin.

The fighter continued. “As to this little meal, please, this my treat,” he assured, “because believe it or not, I occasionally do the same for people in real life. Money is not a problem for me, and as far as I am concerned, people are an investment that are worth any price.” Yuichi let out a small grunt upon finishing the last sentence; ‘worth any price’ – a literal confession of the lengths he would go to for those he deemed worthy of his time and effort. It was just unfortunate that the understanding of the phrase was something he could not convey to the Faerin; not without disclosing just how much Yuichi was willing to cross the line for those select few he deemed as almost his own.

“You yourself have your own manner of investing in people, as is readily apparent,” Yuichi added, “and in that sense, we are similar, despite the fact that we are vastly different in the ways by which we do so for our own ends. You place importance in names, and I place importance in memories, for I believe that if a memory would be strong enough to have an impact on you, it would become something that would force a change in you – mind, body, and soul – irrespective of all other pieces of information. To prove that point, let me ask: would you need a name to love someone? Because if you agree, you would refute the honeyed words of every romance writer from Samuel Richardson to Nora Roberts. Would you need a name to hate someone? If you do, then you deny your humanity since hatred is as primal as fear itself.”

Yuichi held back another round of words as he did not want to give the elfin the impression that he was forcing his own ideas and notions upon her. She was free to decide, as she had always been; what he did was nothing more than provide his thoughts which the Faerin could accept, refute, or analyze at her leisure. It was nothing as serious as an intellectual debate to be sure; rather, or at least from the young man’s point of view, it was simply being fair and candid with his thoughts so that the other could make whatever assumptions about him as she so desired, negative or not. To that, Yuichi once again let out another line of Handel’s oratorio for her cerebral pleasure.

“♪♫~We come! Oh see, thy sons prepare
The rough habiliments of war;
With hearts intrepid, and revengeful hands,
To execute, O sire, thy dread commands. ~♪♫”​