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Slum Online

Page 19

by Hiroshi Sakurazaka


  > Lol. What R U talking about? I have no idea.

  > That is acceptable.

  > So what? U want me to make an apology or something?

  > There is no need.

  > ???

  > You need say nothing. I will have the trophy returned to Pak. I will keep your identity a secret.

  > How do I know you’re telling the truth?

  > Tetsuo asked me merely to solve the case, not find the thief.

  > U going to protect me? Why?

  I saw the snake boxer’s body twitch. A stray finger on the controller, perhaps.

  > Consider it a consolation prize, for both of us.

  > What? Th is is a prize? What does this have to do with prizes?

  > Everything.

  > lol. What’s that supposed to mean?

  The nameless snake boxer was strong. If it was true that he was still in elementary school, then in two or three years, he might even be stronger than Tetsuo and Jack. But by trying to tie a Versus Town fight to RL, he had proven himself an unworthy opponent for Jack in the first place.

  On one day, at one time, there had been a place within this illusory town meant only for Jack’s player and Etsuro Sakagami to see. Hashimoto hadn’t received a ticket to that show, sadly enough. The key to solving the mystery of Jack had slipped from my fingers at the last moment. I realized now why it had been better that way. While there might have been some meaning in the act of catching Jack, nothing would have come from it. The miracle that Jack brought to Versus Town was meant only to be shared with Tetsuo, and only once. I finally realized this. Hashimoto’s yearning for Jack had been one-sided.

  Clearly this snake boxer had also been chasing after the Ganker. No doubt it gave the Fates a good chuckle to bring the both of us—two also-rans—together like this. Our meeting was like a bonus round in an epic battle, one which had meaning for only us. If Hashimoto was Tetsuo’s shadow, then this snake boxer was Jack’s. The snake boxer hadn’t been fated to fight Jack, or even Tetsuo—he’d been fated to meet Hashimoto. Of course, it was probably only me who thought that. The snake boxer was almost certainly disappointed to find himself facing not the Ganker of Sanchōme returned, but a nosy rumor-mongering ninja.

  I backspaced away what I had just typed, and instead I sent my usual catchphrase. It seemed to sum up how I was feeling nicely.

  > It means I am ninja.

  > Whatever, dude.

  > Farewell.

  As consolation prizes went, it wasn’t bad. I would probably remember this meeting between me and the snake boxer for years to come. Maybe even for the rest of my life. It would please me if the snake boxer remembered it too, yet I had no guarantee he would. Perhaps this too was a one-sided affair, which would also be suitable for me, a shut-in playing a character who walked in the shadows of a virtual town.

  > Thanks, man.

  It was nine o’clock in the evening on the following day when I rejoined Tetsuo on a corner in Sanchōme. Tetsuo hadn’t complained when I told him what had taken place, and he agreed to return the trophy to Pak…no return address. As I had been gearing myself up to persuade him, his nonchalant attitude was a bit of an anticlimax. Or perhaps it was just that he had nothing to say to Hashimoto and was simply happy to be done with the whole affair.

  > Do not mention it. It was a simple task for one of my resources to accomplish.

  > No, you really helped me out.

  > I require no praise. Though I certainly don’t mind it.

  > Right, er, you’re the best. Oh, that reminds me, there was something I wanted to ask you.

  > What might that be? I regret I won’t be able to supply you with so much as a hint regarding the identity of the thief.

  > Not about that.

  > What then?

  Hashimoto put his hands at his hips. Tetsuo did not move. When I saw the next block of text displayed above his head, I had to blink twice before understanding it.

  > Would you mind giving me your email address?

  > Why would you need such a thing?

  > I just thought it might be nice, now that we’ve met here and all.

  > But I am Hashimoto, and you are Tetsuo. We need nothing else.

  > I was afraid you’d say that.

  > I have said it before.

  > Well, you stick to your guns, I’ll give you that.

  > Our Versus Town characters are not us. They are an enhancement of parts of our personalities. Though we might become friends here, it is no guarantee we could be friends in RL. If you have time to be friends with my player, spend that time instead with your RL girlfriend, or other friends. Ah . . . you have no friends, right?

  > I wouldn’t say that.

  > But you did say that before.

  > Yeah, but when I started thinking about it, I realized I did have this one friend at university. Haven’t seen him since he quit and went home, though. I’d still call him a friend—no idea whether he’d say the same about me. Haven’t talked to him in forever.

  I lay half in my futon, hands trembling. I checked the screen. Hashimoto’s face remained an impassive blank. I began to type, painstakingly, one letter at a time.

  > Why would you still consider him a friend, then?

  > Well, I don’t know. I just thought about him recently because of all this. Made me want to talk to him again. Tell him about what had happened, you know?

  > And you still consider this person a friend?

  > Yeah, though like I said, it’s probably pretty one-sided at this point.

  > I would not be so sure.

  > Well, maybe I’ll try dropping him a line one of these days.

  > I would think that most acceptable. I’d expect him to be pleased.

  > Or maybe he’s had it with Tokyo and would rather not be reminded I exist at all.

  > I think not. Reach out, and you are sure to make contact.

  > Heh. Then I suppose there is still a point to RL after all.

  > Quite.

  As I pressed the enter key, it occurred to me that save for Versus Town I had spent the last half-year doing absolutely nothing. If my friend were to suddenly call out of the blue, what would I talk with him about? I hadn’t the faintest idea.

  This would be a far more difficult problem for Hashimoto to solve than had been the mysterious misfortune that befell the karateka Tetsuo.

  HIROSHI SAKURAZAKA

  Born in 1970. After a career in information technology, he published his first novel, Wizards’ Web, in 2003. His 2004 short story, “Saitama Chainsaw Massacre,” won the 16th SF Magazine Reader’s Award. His other novels include All You Need Is KILL, available from Haikasoru, and Characters (co-written with Hiroki Azuma).

 

 

 


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