Archive of Our Own ^beta

In retrospect, having three avatars might have been slightly unreasonable. It had made sense during the whole Ignis debacle, when Aoi was still struggling to find a balance, a solid identity among the small crowd that saved Link Vrains, and each avatar had helped her go forward, defining a role for herself that was clearer and clearer. But by the time things quieted down, and Duel Links appeared in Link Vrains, Aoi didn't need as many anymore; she felt like she had a good grasp on who she was and what she believed in.
She still kept her three avatars, though, out of sentimentality as much as out of convenience. It was not like having multiple digital identities was a crime, and it came in terribly handy when she needed to adjust her appearance to what she aimed at achieving in Link Vrains—like that time she had put on her retired Blue Angel avatar and made an apparition on stage noisy enough to lure Playmaker out of his hiding place.

Aoi had grown rather confident in these different aspects of her personality. She was Blue Angel as much as she was Blue Girl or Blue Maiden, and all of them were Aoi Zaizen. It was simple enough, right?

And yet.

It only took one messy update for everything to collapse again.

She’s so confident, and I’m only pretending to be it. Why would she even look at me? I’m all bubbly and sparkly, noisy and way-too-cheerful. She’s like the serene, quiet strength of water, undisturbed. I’m so messy compared to her! She’ll never look at me.

Oh my god, this is a nightmare.

Ema found it hilarious, of course she did. And why wouldn't she? After all, her own avatar was a perfect reflection of her real life self—there was nothing for her to complain about.

“Let me get this straight: they tried to force-merge the code of Duel Links into Link Vrains, without even understanding the code?”

Aoi shrugged. “That’s what my brother said, at least. But it looks like no one really knows what happened.”
“Yeah, I can tell,” Ema snorted. “What a beautiful mess. Who would have expected that people could have so many avatars?”

Anyone, Aoi thought. Why would you be surprised that people want to switch between appearances when even you encouraged me to do it? Of course people don’t want to stick to one skin if they have the freedom to be whoever they want whenever they want!

With a sort of morbid fascination, Aoi’s eyes remained glued to the screen, where, among a chaotic amount of colourful avatars yelling at each other, Ghost Girl was excitedly waving at her real-life counterpart.

“Of course you’re not complaining. It’s like you have a new colleague.”
Ema winked. “And I already know she's the best in her field!”

Urgh.

I'm so boring. She’s here, cheering and getting the crowd fired up, while I stand in the corner, barely noticed. Aqua has always had faith in me, but she was the one lending me her strength. Now, how am I supposed to be strong enough to even catch this angel’s eye? She already has so many admirers.

Someone put me out of my misery.
Please.

“So what happens if… say, I try to log in and stop them?”

Akira winced. “Please don’t do this.”
“I didn’t say I would! Not without checking first. I figure it’s a bad idea?”

Akira’s grimace was enough of an answer. Of course it couldn’t be that simple, no matter how much Aoi wished she could just create a new avatar and use it to knock some sense into her virtual counterparts. She’d been hearing them chattering since the confusing merge between Duel Links and Links Vrains, their personalities interacting and clashing in a surprisingly uncomfortable way.

“Do you remember what you all found out about the functioning of Duel Links, Aoi?”
“The Neuron Network? That thing about connecting people’s thoughts and emotions?”

Akira hummed. “I can’t say I fully understand it myself, but it goes much farther than what Link Vrains is able to do. New data material was a rarity in Vrains, something very few players were able to interact with. In Duel Links, though… it’s like anyone can create anything, just with the power of their mind.”

“So what you mean,” Aoi tried not to sound accusatory, but the circumstances didn't make it easy, “is that your team merged a system that uses real-life physical senses in a fixed digital environment, with a system that uses real-life thoughts allowing the digital environment to evolve in ways that are impossible to predict or control. And a system that might also be a gate between dimensions, because last we discussed it, Ghost Girl didn’t seem quite sure about the actual nature of Duel Links.”

Aoi loved her brother. She respected him a lot. She often admired him, who had become the head of one of the biggest technology empires at not even 30. He’d worked so hard, given so much of himself.
That didn’t mean she couldn’t find him a little bit stupid when she saw him cringe under her barely-masked reproaches.

“The Security team thought it would be safer to merge the two systems together rather than have Duel Links as a wild card in the middle of Vrains. The R&D team provided tools that seemed reliable—”
“Save it for the shareholders, big brother. We both know your team messed up.”

And while the hows and whys were still unclear, the results themselves were plain for everyone to appreciate: Playmaker reappearing in Duel Links with Ai in tow; some events meant to be forgotten being recreated in the network just because people remembered them... and now, apparently, being confronted with the general audiences being completely unable to process how avatars worked as an aspect of the personality of a player and not a full-blown person.

Not that Aoi could give any lesson. She was all-too-aware that she was just as guilty of it as any other player, as she still had time reconciling the blazing Playmaker and Soulburner in Vrains with Fujiki and Homura, her two quiet classmates in real life; or even reconciling her own avatars with herself, sometimes.
She remained silent at Akira’s side as they both watched the chaos unfolding on screen. The central plaza of Link Vrains was already rather impressive when it was only filled with players; now, with the amount of avatars contained in the network, it was more crowded than a beehive, and just as noisy.

“There is more than before, isn’t there?”
“I’m afraid so. We’ve put up notices everywhere, but players keep trying to log in and create new avatars to interact with their other ones. They usually reach the end of the character creation before getting logged off, leaving yet another avatar running loose in Vrains.”

Ah. Hence the long face when she’d asked about going in herself. It made sense.

Her focus shifted back on the data-fed plaza, where the crowd suddenly split to leave room for a virtual Akira Zaizen. As the avatar visibly tried to talk some sense into the mass on screen, Aoi’s attention got caught by her brother’s pitiful whine.

“It’s really uncanny, seeing my avatar move on screen without needing any input from me.“

Well, Aoi thought. Try having three of them at the same time.

Oh no, why is she looking at me like this? Am I inconveniencing her? Quick, Blue Angel, focus on something else, don’t let her see you like this.

Why isn’t she looking at me? Am I intimidating her? How could I, when she’s the one at the center of the stage? Oh no, maybe she just doesn’t want to acknowledge me at all anymore. Maybe she never liked what I was. What could I do?

I’m going to kill them both if Aoi doesn’t do something right now.

“And what am I meant to do, exactly? They're like this! I have no power over this!”

But they're YOU.

“And so are YOU! Why aren't you the one doing something about it?”

Aoi was not a stranger to talking, bargaining or even arguing with herself in her own head. Yelling at someone-who-should-be-herself-but-not-quite in a virtual world, however, was a novel experience she could have done without.

On the other side of the screen, Blue Girl stood, fuming, arms crossed and eyes dark with resentment.

You’re not here to witness the desperate looks they’re throwing at each other. It’s disgusting. Do something, or I swear I’m tying them together and throwing them in a cupboard so I don’t see them anymore.

Aoi sighed. “Listen, SOL said they were working on it.”

Of course they are. It’s always worked out so well whenever SOL say they’re on something.

“Hey, it’s out of my hands, okay? At least you don’t have to listen to their pining in your head when you’re trying to focus during classes!”

On the screen, Blue Girl grimaced.

Yikes.

“Yes, yikes. Now, I don’t know, just go play matchmaker to make them shut up, or go bother some other poor soul. I’m doing my best here, but I have the worst headache.”

I like her hair…

You basically have the same hair. Just untied.

And her eyes…

We all literally have the same eyes!

And her voice! Have you heard her sing?

You have the same—

Blue Girl paused. Actually, Blue Maiden was right. Their voices were pretty different.

—uh.I wonder if Aoi is good at imitations.

What?

Never mind. So are you going to talk to her yet?

I wish… but she’s so unreachable!

Oh, heaven’s sake.

“This is really not helping my headache, you know,” Aoi sighed.

Hey, I’m trying, okay?

“Do you hear them, too?”

Fujiki looked at Aoi, tilting his head as if he didn’t understand the question.
What she really meant to ask was, do you also experience the weirdness of having your own voice echo in your brain, with thoughts that should be yours but are not?
But Aoi wasn’t delusional enough to believe that Yusaku “monosyllabic sentences only” Fujiki would care for a question so elaborate.

At first, Aoi had thought Fujiki was (as usual) the one with the good idea and only one very distinct avatar. Unfortunately for him, this whole mess brought the knowledge of the existence of Unknown to the general audience, who was endlessly pleased with this unexpected development.
Despite being very similar to Playmaker in appearance, Unknown was rash, proud, borderline cruel and more than a little savage with his words. While Playmaker still had a horde of supporters, Unknown had, in a very short time, grown a small fanbase. It turned out his ruthlessness appealed to an edgier audience, who were delighted to see this version of Playmaker “let loose and go apeshit”. The memes were overflowing.

“Playmaker and Unknown. Do you hear their thoughts in your head?”
“Ah.” Fujiki simply shrugged. “Yes,” he nodded, and turned back to his tablet.

Right. Monosyllabic, as expected.

But Aoi needed to know, and Fujiki was someone who shared the same predicament as her: having multiple avatars with larger-than-life personalities. Maybe he held the answer.

“Do they… do they sound like yourself, or do they sound like their own person? Does it also feel like for you that they… they seem to have their own ideas and needs?”

Fujiki brought up a finger to his chin, as if deep in thought, but his eyes never left the screen, where both Playmaker and Unnamed seemed to be vehemently discussing… something. Something that had Playmaker’s right hand wrapped around the arm of Unknown, who let his fingers trail on the other one’s cheek, with a dangerous smile on his face.

“I suppose they do have ideas I wouldn’t have had. That doesn’t mean it’s, hum, bad. I think.”

And even Fujiki, detached and composed, “couldn't care less” Yusaku Fujiki, looked a little overwhelmed when his brasher alter-ego, as if having heard him, turned to face the screen and blew him a kiss.

“They can be intense. But it’s fine, I don’t mind.”

Aoi’s eyes narrowed, suspicious at his tone.

“Fujiki, are you… enjoying the attention?”

Not for the first time, Aoi wished she could time travel. Even five minutes in the past would allow her to erase the knowledge of what a bashful smile looked like on the face of her most stoic classmate.

…Hey, Blue Girl?

Mh?

Ghost Girl taught you to be all cool and confident, right?

Uh… I’d argue that being the one who does shows before audiences of hundreds and thousands, you are the one meant to be confident?

It’s not the same!

Yeah, I guess there’s a reason why Aoi never really had close friends.

“I can still hear you, you know.”

Good. Maybe this will be a wake-up call for you to go and talk to other people rather than always talk to yourself.

“I resent this, considering the situation.”

See if I care.

…Hey, Blue Girl?

Yes?

Do you think Maiden would like me even if she knew I was not as confident as I pretend to be?

Blue Girl’s sigh echoed in Aoi’s head.

How about you just go and ask her?

The thing, Aoi mused while nursing the coffee Kusanagi had given her on the house when he’d caught Fujiki and her zoning out at the table by the food truck, both of them mildly struck by the beginning of a migraine, the thing was that she didn’t really hate herself.
Not anymore, at least.

She wouldn’t go as far as to say she loved every part of herself, but she felt like she at least knew herself better.

Now, though…

“It’s causing a talk and a half on social networks, you know.”
“Hm.”

Aoi knew. People were speculating over who the other pretty girl was, who tried to speak to Blue Angel and very clearly caught her attention.
To be honest, Aoi was beginning to wish she knew who they were, too. It felt like she had completely lost control. She didn’t recognise the girls she saw on screen, as if they were their own people. And wasn’t it a concerning thought.
She shook her head, turned back to her interlocutor.

“What about you, Kusanagi-san? Didn’t you have a Vrains account too?”

Kusanagi shrugged, a hint of a sour smile on his usually cheerful face.

“I used to. His name was Unnamed. But… I deleted him. Or rather, I never restored him.”
“You—oh.”

Right. His defeat against Playmaker. Maybe that had been a little insensitive of her.
But still, deleted?

“Isn’t it strange, though? Don’t you wonder what happened to him?”
“Honestly, I’m just grateful I don’t have to find out. And it’s not like I’m about to get bored, with everything that's going on for everyone else.”

He pointed at the screen, the smile back on his face. On the virtual stage of the central plaza, Blue Angel was finishing a small routine in a playful pose. She winked, her finger pointing straight at the front row of the audience, where Blue Maiden was standing, cheeks as red as her hair was blue.

Aoi groaned.

Aoi?

“Mh?”

Have you ever fallen in love, in the past?

Aoi took a moment to think. Her memories were hazy, but as far as she went, her bonds always stopped at friendship—tentative friendships with her classmates, or her very deep friendship with Miyu and Aqua. But falling in love?

“I don’t think so. Not that I remember, at least.”

So what is wrong with them?

“...Wrong?”

Aoi glanced at the two girls making eyes at each other on screen, slightly farther from focus than Blue Girl was, but never too far. Interesting, how they seemed to never really stray, always remaining close enough for their IRL counterpart to follow.
Sure, the whole blush-and-stars-in-the-eyes was grating, if not to say frankly annoying. Maybe mildly disturbing, too. But…

“Is it really wrong?”

Well. It’s not like you. Or me.

“Couldn’t it be that we’re just learning new things about ourselves?”

Or it could be that the three of us are not really you anymore.

Oh.
That was…
Aoi wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or upset at the thought.

“Oh, will you two just behave!”

The unexpected outburst threw Aoi out of her musings. Sitting on the other side of the table, his eyes focused on his own tablet, the usually cool, calm and solemn Revolver—no, Ryoken Kogami—sounded at his wit’s end.

While it had become a common occurrence to see him around, Aoi always found his presence somewhat uncanny. He was Revolver. Sure, he’d also become some sort of reluctant ally since then, but…

Slam!

Aoi flinched. Kogami had dropped his tablet and put his face in his hands, muffling a scream that sounded eerily out of character.

Uh.

“Are they being… difficult, too?”

Kogami snorted and let his hands fall back on his lap in a defeated slump.

“That is one way to put it, I suppose.”

Aoi marvelled at how he managed to keep his voice leveled no matter how disheveled he looked. She wished she had as much control over her IRL self. Although, come to think of it, that didn’t sound very healthy; no wonder his avatars were… Aoi risked a glance at the tablet abandoned on the table, to which Kogami was throwing a very stinky eye. As he eloquently put it, his avatars were misbehaving. On the screen, Revolver 2.0 was being very vocal towards Revolver 1.0, who seemed extremely intent in pulling his older counterpart’s hair.

Right. With his deep voice, it was sometimes easy to forget that Revolver’s first avatar had been created when he wasn’t even 13. Apparently, there were remnants of it. Aoi tried and failed to swallow a chuckle.

“Of all people, I didn’t expect you'd be the one most likely to relate.”

Kogami’s eyes narrowed.

“What do you mean?”

“The avatars. Mine are terrible too, I have no control over them, they won’t listen to me. Well, one does, but not the others. I don’t know why.”

Kogami hummed. “I tried to communicate with these two, but either they won’t listen, or they can’t hear.”
“But you can hear them both, right? In your mind. I can hear all three of mine.”

A pained look crossed Kogami’s face. “I have the misfortune of knowing what goes through their heads. Consistently. I really wish I could remain ignorant, like they seem to be.”

Yeah, tell us about it.

Kogami’s eyes widened. Blue Girl was apparently done with eavesdropping on their conversation and eager to take part in it instead.

“Oh. It looks like this one can interact with you, at least.”
“She does, but she can’t hear my thoughts. I need to speak out loud when talking to her.”

Still better than the two idiots who won’t listen and just won’t speak at all. Aoi, please, do something.

Kogami raised an eyebrow.
“You don’t want to know.” Aoi drily answered his silent question. “But yes, Blue Girl has been communicating with me. Blue Angel and Blue Maiden, though…”

They’re no better than your two Revolvers. Less violent, maybe.

“Thankfully, they are. I wish they were more aware of their surroundings, though. Or anything, really. At least Fujiki’s avatars are conscious of his existence.”

Ah! That’s the least you can say. I think that if they could drag him into Vrains, they’d—

“Of course they are conscious of him.” Kogami interrupted with a bitter look on his face. “It’s not like it’s his first time dealing with a product of his subconscious falling in love with him.”

Oh, there was history in that tone, and Aoi really, really didn't want to go there, she had enough going on by herself. She decided to focus on the second part of his remark instead.

“A product of our subconscious, then? Do you think that’s what they are?”

Kogami shrugged. “By merging the virtual network and the neuron network, SOL Technology basically gave an independent virtual body and free rein to products of the collective unconscious. It’s not farfetched to imagine that it can go beyond this: avatars may not be born from the collective, but rather unwittingly set free in the virtual world by their own users.”

“But does that mean…” Aoi worried at her lips, finally letting out the question that had been bothering her since her chat with Blue Girl. “Does that mean they are sentient? Like, are they just individual parts of the user interacting in weird ways, or have they become their own persons?”

At this, Kogami’s eyes narrowed. For a second, he looked like he was weighing the possible meanings behind her question.

“Well, were you able to predict how your avatars would react? Or did they end up doing things you didn’t expect at all?”

Aoi made a face, mirrored by Blue Girl on the screen. As if on cue, Blue Angel and Blue Maiden both approached, walking not quite side-by-side, but not far enough for it to be inconspicuous.

“Hoh?” Kogami raised an eyebrow and smirked. “I see. I suppose Playmaker’s not the only one whose avatars have interesting interactions and affects.”

Like you’re one to talk.

Blue Girl sardonically pointed at the side of the screen opposite to the one where Blue Girl and Blue Maiden looked to be struggling to strike a conversation. Kogami lowered his gaze just in time to witness Revolver 1.0 launch Topologic Bomber Dragon’s attack at Revolver 2.0. He recoiled and swallowed a groan. “It’s a good thing I grew out of these pathetic methods.”

Aoi wisely kept silent, but Blue Girl let out a loud snort, unaffected by Kogami’s glare.

Angel? Can we talk?

Hum… yes, Maiden?

They were facing each other now, nervous tension obvious in both of their frames.

I just wanted to say I really like—hm, I really like your shows!

Oh?

Yes! You make everything seem so easy up there on the stage. It’s no wonder the audience is always cheering for you!

But—no, I mean—you’re the one who makes things seem easy. You’re so confident when you duel!

Ah, well, Aqua helped me a lot, so—

No! I think it comes from you! And you made a friend in Aqua. I don’t… really have friends myself. So when I see you so comfortable with people… It makes me…

Oh. I’m not really comfortable, you know, I’m always so unsure…

You know, Maiden, I think you’re really strong. I also really like you—your confidence, I mean. Even if you say you’re not sure, you manage to stand up for yourself. It’s admirable. I really admire you.

You really think so? Oh…

The light blush under Blue Maiden’s teardrop make-up mirrored the one surrounding Blue Angel’s clover make-up.

Angel, I hope you know I really admire you too.

For once, Blue Girl swallowed her sass and remained sagely silent on the side.

“Wow, they’re really struggling, huh?”

Aoi sighed and looked up at Homura, who had managed to sneak behind her and catch a glimpse of what was happening on her screen.

“It’s not easy, seeing them like this,” she confessed. “Or seeing myself like this. I don't know anymore.”
“Aren’t they just three different parts of you?”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure that any of them is the real me.”

Soulburner tilted his head, visibly confused. “But… the three of them; the sum of them, I mean. Put together, they are all you, right?”

Aoi shrugged. “Revolver said they were different people.”
“Yeah, and Revolver is full of shit.”

Aoi was the first surprised by the chuckle that rose from her throat. Kogami’s analysis might have been more accurate than Homura was giving him credit for, but her classmate's immediate reaction to it was like a breath of fresh air. Aoi would have had a hard time expressing her relief at how normal Homura was acting about this whole mess.

“Zaizen, think about it. Does it really change anything? Who they are, I mean. Maybe they’re different people, maybe not. Who cares? Didn’t you already figure out who you are yourself?”
“You sound like you’re familiar with the feeling.”

“Eh…” Homura’s smile turned sheepish. “Yeah, I guess. I mean, it wasn’t easy to reconcile the hero I wanted to be, the delinquent I became, and the lost child within myself. I’ve gone a long way. And I didn't need any virtual avatar for this.”

Aoi sighed. “I thought I had reconciled all these aspects of me, too, but this… affection, this is new.” She winced. “I don’t fall in love. It’s just something I don’t do. But they…”

Homura focused again on the two girls on the screen, hovering awkwardly over each other.

“Well,” Homura scratched his head. “Then maybe you fell in love with the concept of falling in love, enough so that your avatars would want to try it by themselves without implicating you? Would it seem absurd?”

Put this way, Aoi found it actually made some sort of sense. But…

“I’m not sure how to feel about it.”
“Well, I, uh, I guess you could say you’re finding new ways to learn to love yourself?”
Aoi grimaced. “Yes. Maybe a bit too much.”

Oh finally.

On the screen, Blue Angel extended a shy arm to Blue Maiden, who caught her hand and brought it to her lips, before pulling the other girl into her own arms. Both wore smiles wider than Aoi had ever seen on her face in the mirror.

Ew.

Blue Girl mimicked puking. Aoi just felt a strange sense of pride and warmth at the sight.

The pride and warmth didn’t last long.

“Well, well, Blue Girl. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Yes, thought Aoi bitterly. Me neither.

Oh no, not him. Do you know his avatar is just a carbon copy of him? It's creepy. No, not facing this now, nope, we’re out.

Aoi could only agree as she turned to meet Spectre’s eyes. After a full night spent without catching any wink of sleep, kept awake by constant giggling, soft-spoken chatting, terribly mushy declarations and the uncomfortable noise of happy sighs swallowed in kisses, Aoi was just not equipped to deal with Spectre’s sardonic face right now.

She held his gaze for a second, then, without any word of acknowledgement for his sarcasm, she turned around. Spectre's caustic laughter followed her as she walked away.

Hey, Aoi.

“Mh?”

At least it’s sorted, right?

“Yes, I suppose.”

What do you think will happen when SOL technology fixes the problem?

“You’re coming back within me, I guess?”

Even them?

“...I don’t—”

We wouldn’t mind, you know.

!!!

Yes, we would still be together, wouldn’t we?

No matter whichever face you decide to wear, the fact that we’re together wouldn’t change.

It might make kisses more difficult, though…

Yeah, well, it’s not like we really needed the kisses.

Speak for yourself!

“Hum…”
Aoi’s headaches had gotten better as she had grown used to hearing their three voices. But now, with the full force of all three of them actually focusing on her, she could feel the thrum at her temples come back stronger than ever.

Ah, sorry. I suppose it’s a little much.

We realised that it wasn’t fair of us to not share with you.

“Well… I appreciate the sentiment, but it may be... slightly overwhelming?”

It could be worse, you know.

“What do you mean?”

We could be ten.

“What? Who even has ten Vrains avatars?”

Blue Girl pointed at something off-screen, behind Aoi. She turned and was met with the sight of a very vexed Shima Naoki.

“Man, what is SOL doing?! I’ve been logged out again! It’s been nine times already!”

Aoi winced as her classmate shook his tablet in evident frustration. From where she stood, she could hear voices rise from the device.

“Brave Max will not be deterred! I’ll show that Unnamed guy who pretends to be close to Playmaker that I am his soulmate!” “Excuse you, I am his soulmate.” “No, I am Playmaker’s soulmate!” “How dare you, we all know that I—”

“STOP SPOUTING NONSENSE! I’M GOING TO LOG IN AND TEACH YOU ALL THAT PLAYMAKER ONLY HAS ONE SOULMATE.”

Aaaaaand now they’re eleven.

That eleventh one is lucky!

Yes, it’s ten more chances for him to get kissed, isn’t it?

Aoi and Blue Girl fondly turned a blind eye as Blue Angel giggled and let herself be dragged into a kiss by Blue Maiden.