+ + +

A clink of wine glasses could be heard over the soft din of a formal ballroom event.

"Cheers."

"Fabulous work with the restoration, Mr. Kurotora. The Austrian ministry is thoroughly impressed."

"The Wikimedia Foundation is honored to have been entrusted with this task," the dark-haired man replied.

"It is truly a shame that the original Schloss Leopoldskron was lost in a fire centuries ago. However, these furnishings are truly impeccable. I never fail to be impressed by the continual advances of technology. Giving the green light to virtual reality was the best decision our administration made this past fiscal year. I dare say, I think we should raise a motion to permanently hold our conferences here too."

@Kurotora2 bowed apologetically with a smile.

"Unfortunately, our organization's policy is to avoid political affiliations. Collaborating with your government to restore a cultural landmark exists within our scope, but we cannot provide infrastructure to support your regular administrative operations."

"A shame. This classical style is far more tasteful than our new avant-garde neomodern architectural stuff."

"All of the Wikimedia Foundation projects are open source. If you wished, you could likely find a contractor willing to adapt these models for your state server. That said, it will probably require a security upgrade."

"Haha. I certainly know an expert when I see one."

+ + +

Kiu shifted uncomfortably on her feet as she stood next to Kurotora on the ballroom floor.

For some inexplicable reason, she was dressed in an elaborate dark blue evening gown that draped loosely off of her bare shoulders. The rich midnight colors contrasted starkly with her pale skin, and the dress was speckled with splashes of white that gave the impression of a curtain of stars. An inner slip made of semi-translucent white gauze spilled out underneath the hem, and it fluttered ephemerally over Kiu's feet. Her hair was done in a loose perm, while her neck was adorned with pearls.

Kiu actually had no idea how she had gotten here.

This was absolutely not her style, and the prospect of wearing feminine formal attire was a terrifying idea if to say the least. It was something she would have never willingly agreed to, and it was practically a thing of nightmares. Kiu would have refused stubbornly to the very ends of the Earth.

Her head drew a blank.

What was she doing here again?

She felt so bare and exposed with so little fabric covering her shoulders.

+ + +

"Who is this sweet young lady that you have next to next you, Mr. Kurotora?"

"Ah, thank you for reminding me! This is @Fallilee1 — our contractor and the architect behind the restoration of the palace library. It was a truly daunting task, and she really pulled off a last-minute miracle for us. I can't thank her enough."

@Fallilee1 was the username that Kiu used for her primary account on the wider Internet. It was a pun of her first name ("Kiu/Qiu",  秋, or "autumn") combined with her last name. This in itself was nothing out of the ordinary.

"Incredible work. The texture of the parchment — how did you replicate it? I'm a connoisseur, you see? I've never seen such fine detail dedicated to the collection of any virtual library. The wood prints and velum bindings are historic reproductions, I'm presuming? Remarkable. So much personality, vibrancy, and authenticity to such careful work. If you don't mind, do you have a business card? I have clients who would be enthusiastic to have such talent on their teams."

"Um..."

Kiu seemed to shrivel up even smaller as the spotlight of attention turned onto her.

She hadn't exactly been prepared for this, and was surprised by the sudden line of questioning. A small crowd of five or six men dressed in impeccable suits and tuxedos surrounded her, and a gaudy waltz quartet of musicians played in the background. The high school student was introverted to begin with, and the absurdity of this situation and her glaring outfit made her even worse than usual.

Her knees felt especially weak, almost as heavy as lead. She wobbled unsteadily in her platform sandals, and a haze floated across her brain. Kiu hadn't felt this ill in a long time. Her stomach churned disagreeably. A wide array of various refreshments, sweets, and finger food were laid out buffet-style, but the black-haired girl had little to no appetite. Instead, she had a bit of a throbbing headache. 

A caffeine headache, in all likelihood.

"Pardon us, Senator Wiesinger." Kurotora jumped in to the rescue. "Lilee stayed up all of last night toiling to complete the exhibit. I'm afraid she must be exhausted. Perhaps another time?"

"A pity indeed. And a beautiful dress as well."

The chattered droned on as the crowd gradually dispersed.

—Lilee.

Kurotora's words echoed in the fog of Kiu's mind.

Now that was new.

Odd.

Very strange.

He had never used such an affectionate "pet name" to refer to her before. Instead, it was always "you" or "miss" or something nonspecific.

Kiu wasn't sure how she felt about it. It sounded almost intimate.

She felt... very...

...very...

+ + +

They were on the balcony.

It was just the two of them alone.

"Are you okay? Hey. Are you alright?" There was the sound of serious concern in his voice.

Kiu's eyes were somewhat glassed over, and she stared somewhat blankly up at Kurotora's jawline.

It was very angular. The bone was shaped in such a way that was quite aesthetically pleasing. She could watch the tempo-mandibular joint shifting as he opened and closed his mouth at an angle of 37.6 degrees, which was very interesting because his sternocleidomastoid contracted ever so slightly whenever his lips parted.

"Lilee. You really don't look good. Damn, I should have never asked you to—"

"—Kuro."

She interrupted him with the first intelligible thing she said all night.

The dark-skinned man stared at her.

"Kuro, I have a headache."

He was silent for a moment.

He seemed to be processing her statement.

"Well, you don't say."

"Kuro." Kiu repeated it again immediately, wobbling dangerously unsteadily and close to the ledge. She extended a hand to support herself on the railing.

"Yes?"

Her eyelashes fluttered as a gentle night breeze lifted the hem of her dress a few lively inches off the ground.

"I have a headache."

"Right."

The older man reached over and took the glass of golden liquid out from her hand. Kiu's arm was swaying slightly dangerously, and the black-haired girl looked as if she was threatening to drop it at any moment. For that matter, she almost looked like she was about to keel over herself.

He raised the glass and stared at the carbonated drink half-incredulously. He even sniffed it just to make sure.

"This definitely isn't alcoholic," he muttered under his breath. "It's just lemonade."

"Kuro, I have a headache. I'm really tired. My back hurts. I'm also cold."

The dark-haired man sighed and drew the girl into his arms.

She appeared content as she sighed into the cloud of warmth.

She didn't complain about a headache after that.

+ + +

Kiu was in a bed. They were in Kurotora's micro-server, a tiny apartment room that was barely any bigger a small studio office. There had been a brief tossing of stray clothing as Kuro removed his suit jacket and tie, and Kiu had crawled her way underneath a sea of brightly colored quilted comforters.

A water boiler was going in the background.

Kurotora was making tea.

"Kuro, I don't know what's going on. This is weird. I feel weird." Kiu was still rambling half-nonsensically.

"Mhm."

"I feel warm."

"Lilee, I'm worried you might be sick."

"I don't think I'm sick."

"We pushed you too hard. It's my fault. I should have made you go home last night."

"Then you should pay me, then." Kiu's voice was suddenly frivolous.

"Huh? I thought you said you didn't want to be paid."

"I don't want to be a prostitute. A slut."

"What?"

"My back hurts. It feels tight. I've been hunched over making books for days, and I'm literally dying here. I could sue the Wikimedia Foundation for occupational safety and workplace injury."

"...You've totally lost me."

"Gimme a back massage! At least take responsibility for an exploitative relationship!"

"...Fine. But only ten minutes."

"Cheapstake!"

"Ugh."

The weight of the dark-haired man sitting down on the bed caused the mattress to groan. It sank slightly in a depression on her right side, and Kiu's heart skipped a beat, racing faster.

She felt so foggy and so hot.

The girl wiggled sideways in bed so her back was pressed up against the gentle figure. The contact felt electric and satisfying, and she wanted to push harder against the sturdy wall even though she barely had any strength.

"You know I can't give you a massage when you're in that position."

"Mm, but this is okay too."

"..."

"Hey Kuro, can I ask you something?"

"What?"

+ + +

( The following scene is deleted )

+ + +

Kiu woke up in the real world gasping with a body soaked with sweat.

He was unbearably hot, like the thermostat had been turned up a hundred degrees. His bed was drenched. Someone might as well have dumped a bucket of a lukewarm water all over the mattress.

His heart was still pounding. He sat up and leaned back against the headboard.

He was silent except for the sound of his chest thumping.

Total silence.

It took him a few moments to piece together everything that had transpired.

+ + +

It was all a dream — an especially vivid dream.

Or more accurately, it was a nightmare.

Kiu felt something sticky in between his legs.

He buried his face in his hands, trembled, and suddenly hated himself so much. 

He felt disgusting.

He wanted to cry.

At that point he sneezed, and then realized he was sick.

 

∎