Chapter Text
They stay for a while cuddled together, drawing comfort from each other. After the third alarm, Argo shook Kiriko off and stood up.
“Right, so one more thing before I head out- pronouns.”
“Pronouns?” Kiriko echoed.
“Yep. You’re gonna develop a reputation quickly if you use male pronouns with that body. A lot of attention and questions. Granted, you’re going to attract attention either way. Maybe one in ten players in SAO are women. But the guy in a girl’s body? I don’t think you’ll like the crowd that will pull. But, it’s your body and your life. If it wasn’t for this weird bug and your shortsighted typing you’d be in a male body going by Kirito. So, if you want to insist on male pronouns I understand. What’s it going to be?”
Kiriko weighed the decision. The thought of other people seeing him sends a shiver down his spine. It feels like lying to pretend to be a girl when he’s not, but the flip side is even worse. He might hate the subterfuge, but he knows exactly the type of player who would hear rumors of a boy in a girl avatar and come running. He knows what they’d ask, the things they’d say to try and justify it. Unbidden, and unaware of his reaction, Kiriko starts shaking. The fear swirls and builds, thought and images running through his mind. The sense of safety and belonging he’d made for himself here dwindles like embers pulled from the fire.
“Female pronouns.” he chokes out, curling in on himself.
“Alrighty then, Kii-chan. I’ll-” Argo turned back from the door she had been walking toward without looking away from her menu. Now, looking back, she couldn’t abide leaving. Kiriko was shaking on the duvet, caught in the throes of an overwhelming fear.
“Kiriko? Are you okay?” She asked, swiftly crossing the room to be by his side.
“Y- yeah. I’m fine.” he lied, arms tucked around his knees and head pressed into the hollow between them, hair cascading around in a soft curtain.
“Darling, no. You're not okay.” Argo challenged, gently taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “Come here, I’ve got you.” she cooed, tugging the swordswoman into her lap. After a moment, Kiriko uncurled and shifted. As Argo’s arms wrapped around her shoulders, Kiriko tucked her face in the crook of Argo’s shoulder, hands fisting on the information broker’s tunic.
“Shh, shh.” Argo soothes, tracing a hand up and down Kiriko’s back as she rocks back and forth. As if the pebble that sundered the dam, Kriko’s composure breaks and Argo can feel wet sliding down her neck to wet the collar of her tunic.
In the quiet of the room, Argo hears the muffled sobs of someone pushed so far beyond their comfort zone, desperate for someone to hold onto. For someone they can trust and rely on. It’s gratifying and a little scary that the fearless and stoic swordsman she knew in the beta had chosen her as a source of comfort. That she had been deemed someone safe enough to see beyond the facade of competent dismissal and be allowed to see how deeply wounded he was.
Scary, because it was a lot of weight and pressure to put on her. Argo didn’t feel prepared for any of this, but she refused to shirk this responsibility, unasked for or not. It was scary, but also incredibly affirming. Kiriko leaning on her like this, allowing her to see the girl shatter and be trusted enough to not hurt her while she was so vulnerable- that level of trust was so amazing. It left her feeling more confident in who she was, more aware of how she acted and presented herself to the world, and paradoxically, more supported than before. Sure, Kiriko was leaning on her now, slowly letting go of the hurt and fear that had dogged her steps for days or more- but it also was an acceptance of Argo for who she was. Someone saw her, her mercenary prices and devil may care attitude, her abrasive teasing and lack of tact and still saw her as someone valuable and wanted. Someone who was safe and warm. Someone Kiriko trusted not to cut and run when things got tough or weird.
“Love you, you idiot egg.” Argo whispers into the girls’ hair, leaning her cheek against the crown of Kiriko’s head and closing her eyes. She’d hear or feel when the girls’ outburst had run its course.
When the girl in her lap started to fidget, Argo let her tight embrace loosen. After one last squeeze, Kiriko drew back. Not leaving her lap, but putting a few inches between them.
“I’m sorry.” Kiriko sputtered, face red.
“You’ve nothing to apologize for, dear.” Argo soothes, reaching up and wiping away a tear with her thumb. “You’ve been through a lot in the past few days. I’m not surprised that something had to give. I didn’t expect you to-”
“Sorry, I’m sorry, I-” Kiriko whimpers.
“Shh, no.” Argo shook her head, pressing a thumb over Kiriko’s lips. “I’m not upset; you’ve done nothing wrong. I didn’t expect that you’d feel comfortable breaking down in front of me. It’s fine, I’m upset or anything. Kind of confused and a bit awestruck, really. I-”
Kiriko’s arms come back around Argo as she pulls herself back into a hug. “You cared about me when no one else did. You tracked me down and offered to help without doubting or making fun of me. You make me feel safe. Like as long as you’re here, nothing bad is going to happen to me.”
“I take it this hasn’t just sprung up in the past few hours.” Argo prodded.
“No one else talked to me during the beta. Not outside of coordinating raids or dividing loot. You’re the only one who cared about how I was doing. Even-” he takes a deep breath, “Even after logging out and going back to the real world, there was only my sister who would sometimes ask. I can’t describe how it felt to be so invisible, so unimportant. Every message you’d send, I’d drop everything I was doing to answer. And every time I saw you, every time, you’d ask.”
“Hey, Kii-bou, how’s it going? You still living under that raincloud?” Argo echoes softly.
“The only one who cared, who saw me.” Kiriko explained in a soft voice.
“I’m sorry you were going through that.” Argo says after a comforting silence, “I didn’t know how important my teasing was to you.”
“Ask me again.” Kriko suddenly says, sitting up and scrambling back a few inches, out of Argo’s lap.
“What?” Argo asks.
“That introduction, ask me again.” Kiriko says with a barely hidden grin.
Argo shakes her eyes fondly, “Hey Kii-chan, how’s it going? You still under that raincloud?”
“Nope,” Kiriko chirps, “Not now that my sunlight is here.” she beams, bouncing into another hug and bowling Argo over.
“You’re ridiculous.” Argo laughs, seeking out ticklish spots on the girl’s sides.
“Ah-ha,” Kriko pants, trying vainly to escape from Argo’s clutches. “Stop, please, I-”
“Nope! Silly girls get what they deserve.” Argo crowed, getting a few more sweeps in before slowing and allowing the other girl to escape.
“Argo,“ Kiriko whines, “I’m not a girl.”
“Kii-chan- No. Kiriko, stop for a moment and think. Ask yourself, what do you really want? How do you feel in this body? What makes you convinced you’re not a girl?”
“I- I don’t know what I want. This body feels, I don't know, lighter? Less bogged down. Smoother and more responsive, more freeing. I- it feels nice. Good. But I can't, I can’ be a girl. Outside of this magical world, I’m a guy. I have a- a- You know what. I’m not a girl.”
Argo leans in close, “What if you could be? Shooting star, fairy in a bottle, poof and you’re now a girl. Or you’ve always been a girl. Would you be upset?”
“Of course not. Who doesn’t want to be a girl?”
“Kii-chan, I’m pretty sure you’re a girl. I’m pretty sure you’ve always been a girl, just stuffed into a mismatched body.”
“But, but. But I. I can’t.”
“Why not?” Argo asks.
“Because then I don’t know who I am anymore. I don’t know how to go back to being a boy, how to do any of the things you’re supposed to do. I- I’m a terrible girl.”
“Eh, femininity is mostly performative, and not much of a blocker. Hell, I don’t shave my legs or put on makeup most days.” Argo admits.
“Oh.” Kiriko says quietly.
“Look, I’m not saying it’ll be easy. Heaven knows trans people have a rough existence IRL. There’s a lot of uncertainty. But, answer me this- are you happier being a girl?”
“I- yeah, I am.” Kiriko admits. “I’m happier. I am happier like this. I am a girl, aren’t I?”
“Yeah, Kii-chan. You’re a girl.”
“Fuck. I’m a girl.”
“... did I use that right?”
“Perfectly. 10/10, imouto.”