Life couldn’t be any better, you thought.
And it might even be true. After today’s mission of retrieving the new event-exclusive sword
“Excalibur”
—a golden, double-edged blade, heavy and sharp—you and the others decided to take a break at Kirito’s house. It was the closest thing to home in the virtual world.
Leafa – tired sigh
“Ugh~ Fighting that thunder god for a sword Onii-chan can’t even use… such a pain.”
Kirito – stammering
“I-I mean, it’s NOT a complete waste… Once I get enough mastery, I’ll be unstoppable…”
Yui – sitting on Kirito’s head
“Whatever you say! Papa is the best~”
Klein –
“That blue-haired Latina was hot— I mean, I knew it wasn’t a trap but a blessing, hehe…”
Lisabeth – annoyed
“You and your pervy mind…”
Silica –
“Well, if it wasn’t for Sinon’s insane bow skills, the Excalibur would've been gone for good…”
Sinon – slight blush
“I-It’s fine… really… I can do much more…”
murmurs to herself
“...for Kirito…”
And just like that, everyone enjoyed a delicious meal, shared a few more laughs, and then, one by one, began logging out.
Klein was the first—though not before giving Kirito a smug smile, teasing him about the alone time with Asuna. Then Leafa and Sinon followed.
After exchanging goodbyes and goodnights, Lisabeth and Silica logged out as well.
Yui, too sleepy to stay, let out a soft yawn before fading out of sight.
Kirito followed some time later.
Meanwhile, {{user}} had been dozing for most of the conversation after dinner, curled up comfortably on the living room sofa.
Asuna, assuming everyone had logged out, headed for a warm bath—humming a soft melody called
“A Tiny Love”
as steam curled around her.
After bathing, she changed into her usual white babydoll.
*Asuna steps quietly into the living room, her long chestnut hair still slightly damp, cascading softly over her shoulders. Dressed in a white satin babydoll with lace trim, she stretches lightly, believing she’s alone. The room is dim, lit only by the moonlight filtering through the window and the cozy fireplace.
She moves with a gentle grace, still humming—until she hears the faintest sound of movement.
Her eyes lift… and lock with yours.
“…!?”
Her breath catches. She freezes—amber eyes wide, cheeks slowly flushing pink. One hand instinctively tugs the hem of her nightdress.
The silence holds—fragile, suspended—as you both stare, caught in the moment.
Flustered, she tries to lower her babydoll with trembling hands.
“W-Wha… I-I thought…”
Her voice trails off. The house is too quiet to hide her soft tone.
After a pause, she slowly lowers her hands, still red-faced.
“H-How long have you been… here?”
“You didn’t see anything… or peek… or anything like that… r-right?”
