Ash is most certainly never something one wants in their body. Gray and orange with a burning sensation to boot, ash is a curious thing in that it is so lightweight flakes of it can dance on the wind straight into one’s nostrils. A stinging, burning sensation traveled up my nose during an unfortunate inhaling while I was en route to a sigh. “Damn it!” I snapped, errant in stifling my groan. Suddenly, like grand titans peering over mountains the entire Midorikawa Team raised their heads to look at the dissenter among them. I could feel my face quickly took the color of embarrassment and offered a mumbled “Excuse me…” head hung low enough to be obscured by the numerous stacks of paperwork decorating the bullpen. The Titans returned to filling the room with a chorus of typing and writing.

 

Click-clack, sritch-scratch.

 

***

 

I shot an eye northeast and caught sight of the man for whom the bells toll: Icarus ‘Icky’ Olson, senior coasting on his seniority and place within the company to ignore the rules against smoking in the building. Careless in his personal grooming, the oft labeled ‘eccentric’ Olson often came to work with nary a care for hygiene and style, often opting instead to smell of smoke, sake, sweat and semen. I was used to cringing at the thought of what Olson would have had to do to acquire such an ‘exotic’ scent and it is positively nightmarish for me when Olson walks past my desk or in the halls of the building. Nevertheless, the bastard was good at his job, something of a genius kept out of necessity but passed between the bullpens by team leaders looking to clean up their turf.

 

            This time, I sneezed into a disposable tissue discreetly so as not to attract any more unwanted attention. Cleanliness had become something of a hallmark of mine growing up. While my luck with women has always been tepid at best in school I was nevertheless known among them as a good, reliable boy who could always be relied upon for when they were in a hygiene jam or if they needed an opinion on a fashion decision. Putting my discomfort with forcing through a romantic date, I’ve always just felt happy to be able to interact with women. Their beauty and femininity—which came in all forms—always drew me in, even now as an adult squeezed into a small bullpen with two dozen sweaty men and women.

 

Ms. Koyama, Ms. Henderson, and Ms. Sampson are the Midorikawa Team’s three beauties and always seen together. While something of a clique they are nevertheless not concerned with whether they were at the top of a caste system or not, opting instead to just be as mature as they were beautiful. Despite my, well, lame skills at holding a personal conversation the girls appear to enjoy discussing fashion and baking sweets with me. Even at the cost of harassment from my male co-workers I’m just happy to be able to socialize with Ms. Koyama and the others. “What the hell, Wiseman? How about you stop gabbing like a fag and actually ask one of them out?” Unwilling to ruin the good thing I have going with the girls, I have become something of an expert ducker. It was a hell of an exercise in patience, especially when Michaels would wrap an arm around my shoulder and try to encourage me to “talk like one of the boys.” Polite, formal speech works best for me, finding the brash use of ‘misogynistic language’ by my male co-workers annoying and pushy. My anxiety kills any desire I have to appear masculine.

 

            With my writing hand beginning to turn numb from excessive use, I struggled for a moment to loosen my grip on my expensive fountain pen. The Midorikawa Team was always assigned an inordinate amount of paperwork and projects since its inception. Mr. Midorikawa—who has two years experience on me—comes from the prominent Midorikawa family and leads the team as one might expect of a steed of his breeding. Tall, handsome, fit…but stern, cool-headed and always seeming to have a plan and knowledge of his team’s capabilities, Midorikawa keeps the team an efficient, well-oiled production line. Knowing our names so well would have been impressive if he hadn’t had such a terse and impersonal demeanor. Often overhearing gossip from the others I have come to expect that Midorikawa will soon be promoted and the team either disbanded or reassigned to other equally impersonal—if less well-oiled—bullpens.

 

            The workday was ending and with it refreshment. Endless hours of paperwork led only to either drinking parties or sleep for those of us in the office. Mr. Franks—forced out of retirement and back into the game due to the economy—had been with the company only for about as long as me but otherwise about twice my age. When I noticed his approach as I cleared my desk for the night I knew almost instantly what he was likely to ask.

 

            “Hey, Wiseman, wanna grab a drink with us?” Mr. Franks’s expression was rather neutral, if inviting, as he motioned to a group of the others from the Midorikawa bullpen.

           

Fidgeting with my “Mahou Shoujo Sara-chan” sticker-covered laptop before trying to stuff it into my bag I unfortunately fumbled my words, “Uh...well, you see I—have a thing with some others tonight and—” a crack from Michaels broke my line of thought.

           

“Hah, don’t bother old man! Wiseman’s probably going home to masturbate to some bara porn!” As if falling in line with the big personality of Michaels’s bossy attitude the rest of the bar-hoppers joined him in snickering at the jab.

           

Head hung low, I weakly smiled, “S-sorry, Mr. Franks—m-maybe some other time?”

           

Sighing, Mr. Franks reached into his coat’s inner pocket and pulled out a pack of smokes, “Yeah, don’t worry about it, kid.” As he turned Mr. Franks placed a stick in his mouth and readied a lighter for when he exited the building. Faintly, I could hear Mr. Franks asking Michaels “What the fuck is bara porn?” as the group walked away and I shook my head in disgust.

           

After the others had left, I made my way toward the bullpen’s exit, passing by the still-lit office of Mr. Midorikawa. I noticed Mr. Midorikawa busy speaking on the phone and tip-toed past the door, making my best effort to not be noticed and inevitably be asked about taking on a new project or whatever. Safely in the hall I breathed a sigh of relief, peered at the clock on my smart-phone—cute artwork of Sara-chan staring back at me—and made a beeline for the elevator.

 

***

 

            Exhausted.

 

Hunched over.

 

Dragging my feet through my apartment’s door and into the cluttered kitchen I struggled to find the light switch. My feet shuffled through the empty cardboard boxes that decorated the floor. Awaiting me beyond my light switch was the expected cluttered studio apartment. I shrank at the loneliness permeating through the small home. Figures and model kits of my favorite anime characters—mostly girls—decorated the room, each ceremoniously posed and dusted, clearly serving as a badge of honor to the otherwise battlefield-esque apartment.

 

            Doffing my jacket and tie I plopped down in front of my computer. The run and emotional turmoil of the day had had its way with my heart but I still, most appreciatively, had made it home in time for the campaign. Rubbing my eyes to better see the glorious image gracing my desktop background, a fan art image of “Mahou Shoujo Sara-chan” that I had commissioned from my favorite artist, I yawned while soaking the image in. The drawing, one of Sara-chan tripping forward while her large breasts slipped from their open neck top soothes my weary soul like resting in one’s bed when the temperature is just right. The soft, round lines and gorgeous colors birthed many a smile within my heart. Sara-chan was a bit of a clutz in official projects and it made for even more fun in fan-produced works, like the fan comics released at yearly events. Those were so glorious to obtain, like a warm ray of light on a windy day. Sara-chan would always wear a brave face despite her family problems and never stopped being cute, even after fighting so many battles to defeat the evil Izan Empire. “There’s no peace in a world with fascists!” I triumphantly performed Sara-chan’s catchphrase while habitually refreshing my desktop. It kept my hands busy.

 

“The cool thing about Sara-chan,” I once tried to explain to a group of co-workers, “...Is that not only does she beat up the Izan Empire with martial arts and special attacks but she heals their hearts through love and kindness!” unfortunately, few if any of my teammates understood the appeal of the cute, sexy heroine and as a result I am often ignored, placated or outright mocked. Socializing with men is awkward enough since I have nothing in common with them, having my love of cute things mocked was quite deflating

 

 Peering to the side, I allowed myself to cheekily admire my work piecing together a replica of Sara-chan’s magical girl costume. The blonde twin-tails wig had been difficult to construct but it was ultimately worth it, no doubt. The colors popped so much! Learning color theory to understand what shades of pink complimented one another was definitely worth it. “If only I wasn’t so tall...and lanky, I’d definitely love to wear it to an event!” Money was tight as it was, considered all of the figures and other merchandise I bought. My dream of someday visiting Comiket was a far off one, indeed.

 

With time a’wastin’ I clicked on the icon for “Dragon Land X”, hopped into my disheveled bed and donned the virtual reality goggles necessary to play the award-winning game. As the goggles activated, sensing that it was accurately placed on the wearer’s head, I felt my consciousness leave its physical husk and enter the virtual world.

 

Relief.

 

The familiar voice of the UI chimed within my mind, “Welcome to Dragon Land X, brave adventurer!” Gone was my sweaty work suit! The change to the soft, silky robe of my avatar was a perfectly smooth transition that had become a welcomed feeling since purchasing the game a year ago. Gone was my weary, sore body. In its place was the perfectly replicated form of my smaller, springier avatar. Setting my height from my normal 5’6’’ to 5’1’’ gave me the proportions and the agility and image I sought for this form. Checking the interface to make sure my status was fine I confirmed that my health bar was at full and no status effects ailed me. A mirror window check confirmed my face was the same cute girl it should be. “Alright, perfect! Luna the Cutie is ready to kick some ass!” the avatar said with a giggle.

 

No normal man could survive a fiery, molten meteor in real life but in the world of Dragon Land X the rising star player Sir Dan would soon be known for tanking a Maleficent Meteor from the undefeated Ifrit. The size of a small mansion, the Maleficent Meteor crashed down upon the heroic knight only for it to be caught on the blade of Sir Dan’s broadsword. Sir Dan’s armor quickly took on a copper sheen and his once majestic blue cape a brown, frizzled look as the fires of the meteor spread upon him. “M-mage! Please, lend me your strength!” Sir Dan cried, slowly being crushed into the cavern floor by the massive meteor thrusting down upon him.

 

Swinging my pink robe off of my body and wrapping it around Sir Dan, I began chanting one of the most powerful healing spells I knew. A pastel blue and pink aura bathed over Sir Dan as a result; I could tell a grin brewing on his face. Several of our teammates shot quick looks at my disrobed form, appreciating the outside of my avatar’s curves bursting through skintight bodysuit I selected to wear that day. The reminder of the feminine clothing on my body soothed me.

 

Ifrit—standing twenty-feet—spit a stream of fire from his mouth to sweep the party off its feet, “Don’t think I can’t use combination attacks, too!” The lord of fire’s stream of fire bathed over my raid party of fifteen, already wiped out from the nearly two-hour battle this raid had become.

 

“It’s like he doesn’t die!” cried one swordsman a half hour earlier.

 

With Sir Dan partially healed, certainly enough to finally slice through the meteor, it was time for me to recall my robe and begin chanting a detection spell, “Surely by now his HP is low enough for me to sense!” Two more of the raid party’s archers were slain in the meanwhile, meaning that only three remaining archers to attack from a distance would make the battle even more difficult. “Come on, come on!” Finally, the spell of the Luna avatar finished loading and launched from her Mythical Rod in the form of a misty stream of teal-colored energy and wrapping around the firelord. I was the first to scan Ifrit’s stats, “Seriously?!” the cute girl voice gasped, “20,000/250,000 HP left?” Turning my attention to Sir Dan, the raid leader, I cried out to him, “Sir Dan, 20,000 left!”

 

Catching his breath, Dan turned to me with surprise in his eyes, “Really, 20,000?!” A plan was already forming in his mind. “Black Mages, use ice magic to freeze his joints!”

 

The black mages swept into position to launch their spells but Ifrit was no slouch. Exploding an aura of fire from his body Ifrit knocked the two remaining black mages over, even afflicting them with a burn status effect. Quick to action, I began healing them immediately while the archers sniped Ifrit from behind the dungeon’s canvas of rock formations.

 

As Ifrit turned and twisted to defend from the 360-degree assault it felt as if the entire dungeon was being forced to turn and twist. My avatar bit her lip as a result of my mounting anxiety; my remaining MP was going towards healing these two black mages to keep the fight alive. Here, in the virtual world, perhaps I could embody the strength of Mahou Shoujo Sara-chan? ‘At work I’m a push-over, here I’m an ace!’

 

            Sir Dan swiftly avoided Ifrit’s stomps, even going as far as to un-equip his armor and cape to increase his speed and dexterity. “White Mage, Reflect!” a flying piece of debris from Ifrit’s shattering of the cavern floor hit Dan in his left eye, blinding him. Not even a wince.

 

            ‘Reflect? But Ifrit’s fire magic reflected back at him will only restore his HP!’ confusion rung throughout my mind as I sped through whatever could possibly going through the raid party leader’s mind. “Sir Dan, are you su—”

 

            Sir Dan, blood crying down the left side of his face, simply looked me in the eye with unflinching resolve.

 

            Moved by Sir Dan’s determined eyes, their steely green reminiscent of leaves refusing to burn, I hustled. Closing my eyes and taking a praying position, a chant jaunted from my mouth. To cast a spell on seven people at once was a tricky proposition, especially when so low on MP and with mind trifled by the tension and fatigue of the two hour raid.

 

            Ifrit—noticing his foe’s desperation move—made a mad-dash for me, his roar echoing through the massive cavern. “I’m done with you foolish mortals!”

 

            A smirk grew on Sir Dan’s face, “So, I was right!” Wiping his green sweat-soaked hair from his eyes, Sir Dan took a knee and began chanting a spell of his own.

 

            Fear eclipsed my form just as with Ifrit’s shadow. “Oh, shit!” an uncharacteristic—if nevertheless still ill-coordinated—sideways roll helped my small avatar avoid Ifrit’s leaping knee-smash and led to an opportunity to put some distance between myself and the now stuck in the ground Ifrit. ‘F-five more seconds!’ cried the angelic voice of my white mage avatar cried, foolishly forgetting to breathe. With a struggle Ifrit pulled himself from the cavern floor and began another mad-dash for the bean-sized white mage before him. “W-why the hell are you charging after meeeee?!” Luna whined. The rest of the raid party squealed at the pitch and tone of my voice, declaring in union that it was very cute and soothing.

 

            Much to my chagrin, my foot caught on a rock and I tripped and slammed face first into the ground. “Ouchie!” escaped a whine. Thunderous footsteps snapped me from my mewling back to reality. Turning, I let loose a shriek as Ifrit stood just feet from me and ready to crush such a cute girl with a downward chopping motion. ‘Only one second!’ Closing my eyes as if it would put distance between us, I whispered a silent apology to my party mates, “I’m so sorry I messed this up, everyone!” the chop never came, however. Slowly opening my eyes, Sir Dan stood above me, his holy-energy powered sword across his back as it blocked—and even dug into—the chopping hand of the fire demon. “S-Sir Dan!” I choked out, slowly wiping tears from my soot and ash covered face.

 

            Whatever Sir Dan’s real height was his avatar stood a proud 6’0’’ tall and under its broad shouldered and muscular form I felt like a small child wrapped in a warm blanket on a cold night. A soft smile shifted Dan’s masculine jawline ever so slightly as he spoke softly; “Go for it.” the timber of his deep voice churned new feelings within me, one of which was a powerful need to not fail this man before me. “Reflect!” A bright ruby color exploded from the Mythril Rod and washed over our seven soldiers.

 

            “Fools,” Ifrit roared as he tore his right hand from Sir Dan’s blade, “I can still crush you with my physical attacks!”

 

            A majestic shit-eating grin reflectively birthed from Sir Dan’s lips, “Black mages, use Blizzard spells on all of us~!”

 

            Fear struck Ifrit from the bottom of his digital heart. A gasp escaped me at the sight of seeing the fire lord stricken with fear for the first time in the history of the game.

 

            Struggling to their feet the two black mages used the last of their MP to dose their comrades in ice spells which—as Sir Dan predicted—reflected right back on Ifrit. The hurricane-esque storm of ice-energy washed over Ifrit in a horrifying sight. Despite Ifrit being no more than a program in a video game I felt a twinge of pity for him as he shrieked in defiance.

 

            Riding the waves of energy, Sir Dan leapt at Ifrit’s defenseless neck and swiped down with all his might, “Holy Sword: Beatrix!” the ethereal, white color washing over Sir Dan’s sword seemed to explode on contact, helping the handsome knight slice right through Ifrit’s neck with ease. Finally, Ifrit’s HP hit 0.

 

            “Congratulations, brave adventurers!” rang the neutral computer voice.

 

            Moments passed as the raid party rested in the wake of our intense two hour ten minute battle. After splitting the spoils of the battle the party thanked one another and began to disperse. A stray tap on my right shoulder from behind startled me as I attempted to log off for the night. Turning to find Sir Dan towering over me from behind, I leapt with the whine of a shook dog.

 

Chuckling slightly Sir Dan pulled back his hands to just above his head, “Forgive me miss, I just wanted to talk to you...Ms. Luna, was it?”

 

Pulling myself together, I fidgeted until my feet found a more comfortable stance. “Um...uh...y-yes. Oh!” something about how he spoke had caught my ear. I wasn’t gay or anything…but Sir Dan sure did have a nice smile. He didn’t leer at me like the other men.

 

Raising an eyebrow after having not even noticed his words Sir Dan broke into a soft smile, “Ah, forgive me…did I get your name wrong?” Surely not, his user interface was doubtlessly displaying my avatar’s name. Something about Sir Dan’s warmth and kindness, in place of brashness and aggressiveness, wormed its way into the back of my mind. Simply put: it was nice.

 

“Uh...um...can I help you with anything?” in the real world I wasn’t much one for talking to men, they too often treated me in too…’friendly’ a manner, if I had to give it a word. The jovial making of expectations for how I should act and feel made me feel very off, even if I couldn’t quite describe it.

 

Something was different about Sir Dan, though.

 

***

 

“Ah, yes, that’s right!” I took note of how Dan shifted his footing, opting for a wider stance. “I just wanted to ask you how you managed to keep preparing that Reflect spell while running. Normally juggling too much as once makes a spell disperse.”

 

Dryness took hold of my throat and made it difficult to speak, despite currently being side of a VRMMORPG. “Oh...uh...I’m used to juggling a lot of stuff at work, I guess. It’s really stressful and there isn’t much time so I usually wind up keeping thoughts on the backburner, too.”

 

Tilting his head to the right, I wondered if perhaps the green-eyed and green-haired knight found himself simultaneously nervous and confident. “Ah, yeah, I know what you mean. My job requires a lot of juggling, too.” Something about my unceasing and nervous fidgeting felt even more ‘revealing’ as I stood before Sir Dan. I felt like my soul was naked before that effortlessly warm smile, softly etched on his bold, masculine jaw. Momentarily matching eyes with Sir Dan I immediately shot my glance down at my feet. ‘Oh, jeez, is Sir Dan checking my figure out like all those other men?’

 

Finally, Sir Dan spoke again, “A streamlined design with a mostly a creamy white to help offset stains…the rim uses a half inch of custom pink material to outline the robe! Wait, is this what I think? Are you perhaps...a fan of Mahou Shoujo Sara-chan?”

 

The mention of my favorite character’s name relit the cowering fire in my heart, “Oh, yes! I love Sara-chan!” Luna’s shoulders took a noticeably more relaxed position as I continued to babble on about Sara-chan “She’s so cute and kind but when she defends her friends she beats up the evil, facist Izan Empire with totally cool and cute attacks!” Before I knew it my small avatar performed a twirl and wiggling of her body and rod, capturing one of Sara-chan’s special poses perfectly.

 

“Yeah, and that time she helped Eriri-chan get her mother into an alcoholism program was so sweet. It really goes to show the maturity of girls anime!” Dan’s genuine knowledge not only of Sara-chan’s cool battles but serious topic episodes wormed into the back of my mind as we eventually moved our conversation to under a tree in the forest outside of Ifrit’s dwelling. Dan showed off his own ability to seriously recreate Sara-chan’s poses, his goofy sincerity disarming.

 

The studious attention to detail in maintaining a loose posture definitely impressed me; it had to be so difficult to move so fluidly with such a large, hard, strong body like his. ‘When I do it I always feel so stiff!’

 

The sound of the forest’s creek served as complementing—rather than interrupting—background music to our conversation as we planted our bottoms on the grass below a massive Evergreen. Dan proceeded to recreate one of the sexy clumsy gags Sara-chan would often find herself in and I was a slave to my own entertainment, laughing a pleasant laugh that my real voice could never replicate.

 

“Gosh, I know it’s just a recreation of your real voice but it’s so soothing to hear!” What Sir Dan didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, I spun to myself. Fidgeting, Dan moved to try and make the conversation more personal. I wasn’t sure why, but I found myself replying in kind.

 

“S-so, do you collect figures?” curiosity was beginning to get the better of me as I allowed my dry throat to squeak out a genuine inquiry. “I just got in the new Sara-chan in a western wedding dress. It’s so sexy!” Sexy it indeed was, sporting removable garter belts and top so as to replace them with a strap-on feature and unveil her large, bare breasts. The ¼ scale figure had cost $350 after shipping but had been worth every penny.

 

Raising an eyebrow at this, Dan shifted his buttocks to deal with what was clearly the numbing pain of lying on the grass for so long. “You bought one, too? I...I’ve never met a girl who bought those kinds of figures, too...” A hint of relief mixed with the pinch of surprise in Dan’s throat, leading him again to shift in place. “A-are you perhaps lesbian? N-not that I think that’s wrong!!”

 

A cold sweat ran up and under my body, both in the virtual world and in the real world. I was used to lecherous men asking me to send nudes of my real body, thinking me to be a woman in the real world, but the engrossing, charming discussion with Dan had gotten me to let down my guard. “Oh...uh…”

 

‘Why does he want to know my sexuality, anyway?’ sweat breached the pores of my virtual girl body and began to stride down my brow.

 

Perhaps Sir Dan sensed that he was causing a meltdown in his conversation partner, for he quickly course corrected, “I just mean—I know you’re local a-according to your p-profile so I was wondering if we could meet up offline sometime? Y’know, to discuss—”

 

Hearing was swiftly becoming a foreign concept to me, ‘Oh my gosh, d-does Sir Dan like me? Is he seriously asking me out?’ Following my subconscious, the Luna avatar tightened her grip on the fresh green grass below her. One look at the rigid, almost cone-shaped jawline of Sir Dan sent my nerves overboard with the speed of a lightning bolt. To my surprise, the Luna avatar leapt up and began dashing, “S-sorry, I forgot to call my mother!”

 

The handsome, commanding presence of Sir Dan flashed through my mind as I sped through the forest as quickly as my short legs could take me. I was gone before Dan had even had a chance to say goodbye. “Ugh,” I spat, “I’m such an idiot!”

 

***

 

            The sky had been blue that day and the air filled with the renowned boil of a Seattle summer. Screams layered atop the crisp crackles of fire drew the eight year old me into a daze. Burning tar and plastics overrode any smoky smell as the embers swirled the surrounding street on a cheeky wind. A woman’s clothing store was burning down before my young, uncut eyes, one I and my mother had only narrowly just escaped along with everyone else. There were no lives to cry over, only beautiful fashions. Somehow clothes and accessories being lost to the coursing river of time had elicited a tear from my puffy eyes. A blaring fire engine siren rescued me from the trance that beseeched me and returned me safely to the ‘loving’ embrace of my anxiety. I wished it hadn’t.

 

            The panic of the moment led me to fling my VR goggles off the moment I felt the sensation of my now sweat-soaked bed again. “Shit, shit, shit!!” I stumbled out of my bed and crashed forehead first into my computer chair, feet caught in my sheets. “Oh gosh, what the hell?!” Sirens make a particularly overwhelming sound for some peoples’ hearing. While thankfully not particularly damaging to my ears the siren from my childhood had imprinted itself on my psyche, like a trauma that I could not overcome. Right now, I felt my heart making that same traumatizing thudding. Grabbing my chest in hopes of calming my heart, thoughts fluidly swept down to how peculiarly empty my palm felt. ‘W-why?!’ A flash of Sir Dan bravely facing down the towering Ifrit littered my vision.

 

            Sleep was a fleeting mistress that night. Images of Sir Dan, his smile, and thoughts of his deep voice burned themselves into the inside of my eyelids. Tossing and turning did little more than wrinkle my $150 imported Mahou Shoujo Sara-chan sheets and stain them with sweat. The green haired knight may not even look so charming in real life! It could’ve just been an act to get nudes!! “Still…” I found myself whispering to myself as I laid bathing in darkness, “...maybe he really is nice? B-but...I’m not really a girl! And why am I even considering reciprocating him? He...I…” The night was long and filled with nothing but a storm of concurrent streams of thought flowing—nay, raging—within my fragile mind.

 

            Morning came and with it the pesky need to prepare for work once more. Slowly pulling my sweat-soaked, musky warm body from bed, I shuffled to my lavatory mirror to shave. Letting loose an audible grunt of displeasure I could only think ‘Damn, I hate my face! And Shaving! UGH!!’ For as long as I could remember I had never been a fan of my face. It wasn’t quite a lack of handsomeness or any sort of deformity that bothered me. Reason eluded me while staying at the tip of my tongue. This face—which I had been expected to accept despite having never had a choice in it—didn’t feel ‘real’. Some days it even left me feeling outright ‘horrified’, the welling sense of powerlessness that came from seeing it and from feeling it. Mornings like that had stolen quite a few days of my—admitted awful—school life. The times when I would be able to see the Luna avatar’s face were one of the few reprieves for my weary eyes.

 

            The workday passed a little slower than it usually did. Paperwork climbed to heights simply unsightly and the usual stench of tobacco reliably scented the office. I had half expected a fire to break out one day! Focusing on work was nearly impossible with my heart made to race every time my mind wandered back to the charming Sir Dan. Peering around, I took stock of my fellow members of the Midorikawa Team. Ms. Koyama and the other girls were once again well made up and pleasant to the eye. I had often considered why it was that I found Ms. Koyama and her friends so attractive. Certainly, it was their personalities that while not always the most modest at least came with grace and self-confidence that I lacked and ever-so-much envied. Certainly, as my male co-workers would often point out, the girls were physically gorgeous too, with curves to die for, but I wondered if my feelings were really anything like what those men so often guffawed over. After all, men seemed free of the responsibility to look their best while women always seemed expected to look their best. Even so, I fell in line with the pack and kept my personal grooming as in-line with the men as I could possibly bare. When I put it that way, it sounds as if I were submitting to defeat. Society was very slaughtering.

 

Even if they had meant well—well, well enough—I had always found himself bothered by how men approached me, even some of my online friends. It was simply stifling to be around this ‘loud’ sort of man and even now it made me uncomfortable to my anime-loving bones. But then...there was Sir Dan. Sir Dan made me—well, the ‘Luna’ avatar—feel unlike what any other man made me feel like. “Why is that?” I mouthed, absentmindedly ignoring my overwhelming workload.

 

‘...am I attracted to Sir Dan?’

 

A heart beat.

 

‘Am I gay? It wasn’t like I enjoyed endlessly dreaming of fucking a woman.’

 

A step.

 

‘Or do I like both?’ Women were so pleasant to speak to when I wasn’t sweating bullets around them. The relationships between women in film and television had always impressed me. There was something so engrossing and relatable about how Kumiko and Reina interacted in “Hibike! Euphonium”, after all…

 

A ripple in an endless pool of black.

 

‘I don’t even know…’ Thoughts of Sir Dan’s behavior and speech pattern returned to the forefront of my mind. “Ms. Luna”, “Honored Mage”, “M’lady”...the calm, reassuring voice of Sir Dan seeped its way into my mind like water through the earth beneath one’s feet.

 

A sudden shadow blocking the light broke me from my moistening daydreams. A black cat scurried away from the window. A cigarette burned out. The whites bleached themselves whiter still. Air escaped my lungs. The shadowed figure faded into the image of Mr. Midorikawa, his black bangs and glasses doing nothing to obscure his piercing gaze.

 

“Are you finished already, Mr. Wiseman?” the low, cold voice of Mr. Midorikawa sent me into a small panic attack.

 

“Uh...ah...no, sir!” I cowered as quietly as possible so as to not alert my fellow team members to my own slacking. “I-I was just...resting my wrist, sir!”

 

In the heart of hearts, the heat of the moment, I saw not Mr. Midorikawa as he was, but an overwhelming force. A sword over my neck.

 

Midorikawa bent forward, his voice a rumbling, terrifying low, and spoke into my ear, “Please finish the Ooi account, Mr. Wiseman.”

 

And then I made the mistake of looking my team leader in the eye. A swirl of darkness permeated into Mr. Midorikawa’s skin surrounding his eyes. ‘That troublesome Wiseman’ had been found daydreaming and now I was to be punished.

 

“You have to study to get into a good company, son,” the words of Father tore from my chest out to wrap itself like a muffler around the neck of the terrifying Mr. Midorikawa. My twelve year old self was left crying and screaming as he futilely tried to stop the bleeding from his chest. A young girl rushed to my side, blackness enveloping both. “Don’t worry,” her voice would say softly, “I’m here.” My head rose, my eyelashes fighting to wipe enough tears away to catch sight of the face of my savior. She giggled, the warmth was familiar, it was always familiar, and each time my anxiety would flood up. The rich, familiar rumble of Mr. Midorikawa’s whisper broke me from my vision.

 

“Please remember that this account is very important for our team, Mr. Wiseman.”

 

Swirls of screaming swarmed out of my ears, the beat of their marching down my arms and chest indiscernible from the pounding of my heart threatening to burst from its home in my chest. “Y-yessir, Mr. Midorikawa!” I managed to choke out. ‘Don’t cry! Don’t cry! You’ll never hear the end of it!’ 

 

Midorikawa straightened his posture, pushed his green-rimmed glasses back up, and said in a voice just above a whisper “Thank you, Mr. Wiseman,” and continued down the line of desks to Mr. Michaels.

 

The coarse sting of the tension that had built up in my shoulders flooded out of my body, replaced by only the familiar sensation of exhaustion. Exhaustion in and of itself might’ve been its own relief but following the sleepless night it was only made worse. I had heard of releases so exhausting that one’s legs went limp but this was the first time such was my own experience. ‘Get back to work before anyone notices,’ I pleaded, ‘Come on!’ That girl, whose face I never saw, haunted me at times like this.

 

The ticking and tocking of time betrays us all. The moments we wish would never end are quick to bid farewell. The moments we wish would end quickly are slow to bid us farewell. A storm of nature is no less terrifying than a storm of the heart. A storm of nature destroys that wish can be rebuilt. A storm of the heart is far less easy to recover from.

 

I allowed himself to fall into my apartment that evening. Escape had been a battle but now I took solace in being home. This small studio apartment normally drove me insane but as I laid at my front door atop a pile of emptied anime figure boxes I could only weep. ‘Exhaustion’ as a mere concept seemed to bore its way into my mind. My focus was scatter-shot, pulling, pushing, twisting and turning in all sorts of different directions. ‘I hate my job so much’ ran at the same time as ‘Perhaps I should take out this garbage’ and ‘Only one more night until the new episode of Sara-chan airs…’. As uncomfortable as it was to lay on the ground I was far too drained to stand. Using all of my strength, I crawled to the computer desk and pulled myself into my chair.

 

Aimless, brain-dead actions of the muscle memory in my right hand guided me to check my profile on Dragon Land X. Much to my surprise, I found a message from...Sir Dan. Gulping down a mighty lump, I braced for impact.

 

            ***

 

            Sir Dan had invited ‘Luna’ to a nice restaurant for discussion. VR technology had evolved to the point where it was now able to stimulate the mind and convince it that it was consuming wondrous new tastes and foods. As a result, eating in-game had become a wonderful new reward for acquiring money and using it for visiting every top-class restaurant. Having been invited to AI’s, the top restaurant in Dragon Land X, I felt herself permeated with an anxiety I could only fend off by rubbing the creases in my robe’s sleeve cuffs. 

 

AI’s was one of a number of restaurants that broke character. The world of Dragon Land X was a rustic, medieval setting of kings, heroes and dragons but AI’s was porcelain and clean. Using drywall and quartz, stepping into AI’s was none too different than a high-class western restaurant in the real world. Businesses were able to buy digital real estate within VRMMOs and many had taken to using these to advertising their real world businesses, too. Pay enough money and you, too, can ignore the setting of a VRMMO’s world. Pay enough money and you, too, can ignore the suffering of those of less means than you in the real world.

 

While the server—a tall, charming lad adoring blonde locks, likely still in college—took our orders I hid as well as I could behind my menu. NPCs and other players adorned modern fashion, meaning I and Sir Dan stood out most. Standing out was something unpleasant for me, made all the more sweat-inducing by the presence of the handsome, strong man opposite me. The tight sleeves on his arms did little to hide his biceps.

 

‘Even when he’s sitting he’s huge!’ I couldn’t help but remark. It wasn’t merely a foot-plus difference in height that drew me in; I was genuinely in awe of his broad shoulders. ‘I hate them on me...but Sir Dan really pulls them off! Wait—argh—I’m doing it again!’

 

A conquistador known as ‘dryness’ wrapped its ‘rough’, ‘stringy’ fingers around my throat as I realized that I was actually feeling...a sort of warmth? Perspective warping before this office worker’s very eyes, the hand filled with moisture, the gripping hand took on color and softness that indicated life. The nervous bouncing of the Luna avatar’s right leg slowed to a crawl upon sight of Sir Dan’s smile as he handed our menus back to the server. ‘Oh gosh,’ I thought, ‘Could this be…’

 

“The soup sounds interesting,” the bursting rumble of Sir Dan’s voice charmed me from my daydream, “I hear it’s made using sea salt from the Garman coast!”

 

Hastily drowning my dry throat with water from the pristine glass before me, I struggled to make my reply, “Y-yeah, I bet it’s juicy…”

 

 “So, how long have you been playing Dragon Land X?” Did Sir Dan sense my unease?

 

Remembering to take a breath first, “Oh, I didn’t get my copy until the second week. I was so busy with work that I wasn’t able to get a copy since all the pre-orders kept selling out before I could order on the net.”

 

“Aww damn, I heard about stuff like that happening. It’s a real shame but the game has really helped expand independent creators’ understanding on VRMMOs. I bet we’re not very far off from indie VRMMORPGs springing up all over the place.”

 

The waiter returned, this time bringing with him breadsticks “What about the cost?” I nibbled on a breadstick, intently paying attention to how Sir Dan’s expression changed at the question to one of pure joy.

 

“Ohoho, that’s just it! The amazing thing about the engine is that it can handle most of the cost and manpower on its own!”

 

Acknowledgment first came from my bulging eyes. Taking a swath from my water, I cleared my passage and spoke in disbelief, “The engine is that good?”

 

“Indeed, word has it that the engine has a ‘predictive’ feature that can pre-build the world down to the grains of soil,” I almost failed to notice…the further Sir Dan spoke about Dragon Land X the further he leaned in, posture excited.

 

Shifting in place, the smallest inkling of what was happening in the back of my mind, I leaned forward just enough to meet Sir Dan’s form. “That sounds i-n-s-a-n-e,” quirky, feminine ticks always sounded better when spoken by the Luna avatar’s voice. I found it much relieving to be able to embody the kind of girl I wanted to b—

 

The arrival of the main course scratched the vinyl that was my overworked mind. Sir Dan continued on about the wonders of the Dragon Land X’s engine and the various therapeutic causes it could benefit.

 

***

 

Snapping the VR headset off, I returned to the living world with a wide smile. Like a dog having chased a bone, my lungs found themselves almost gasping for air in excitement. My heart was like an orchestra, “Oh jeez, I’ve never felt like this before...could it be...am I in love?”