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He didn't wake up in the hospital.
Truth be told, Kirito was kind of expecting not to wake up at all. Kayaba Akihiko had been incredibly vague when he'd spoken to them just moments before, on whether or not he and Asuna would be spared the final deletion of the game, and he had been content to just fade away with his hand in hers, dissolving ephemeral into the nothingness.
But this didn't feel like being dead.
It felt very much... like another VRMMO.
He blinked in the artificial light, a construct of a pleasant summer day, looked with confusion around at the golden birdcage set high in the branches of an enormous tree.
And then the cage door opened and a strangely-clad man with shimmering wings entered and the nightmare began.
-SAO-
Her stomach roiled every time Sugou looked at her. The leering, eager look in his eyes. She could tell at a glance what kind of vile, lurid things he was thinking about her.
And then there was was how he spoke to her.
"Now now, Asu-chan, darling," he chided, talking down to her like she was a child. "Is that any way to speak to your future husband?"
The names were always the worst. Familiar, intimate, cutesy, and diminishing. He addressed her alternately like she was a pet, a doll, a silent domestic servant, or a feisty wild horse that he was trying to tame.
She ground her teeth. "You aren't my husband, my fiancé, or anything else. And if I have anything to say about it, you never will be!" she spat at him.
The glint in his eyes was dangerous now. "I wouldn't be so mean, my sweet. After all," he said, his hand creeping down towards the unconscious boy lying in the hospital bed between them, tracing a slow, lingering finger up his jawline, "you wouldn't want anything happening to your precious Kirito-kun, would you?"
She watched his hand, dangerously close to closing around Kazuto's neck, and felt helpless fury from head to toe, her hands clenching on the umbrella she held.
Sugou drifted out of the room, taking her angry silence as a sign of compliance, but not before reaching out a hand to run slimy fingers through her hair, and whisper a breathy, "I'll see you later, little bird." with lips too close to her cheek, his breath hot and uncomfortable.
Asuna held herself together until the man was well out of the room, and then her knees gave out and she sagged to the floor, overwhelmed and feeling on the verge of puking.
-SAO-
His fists clenched in the golden manacles he hung from, his mouth clamped tight down on a scream as the electricity tore through him.
His feet tried to find better purchase, his bare toes barely touching the floor from how uncomfortably he was stretched.
The fairy king in the corner tutted, lazily taking his thumb off the remote trigger to stop the shock. There was nothing else in the birdcage but him and Kirito, all the comfortable furniture and the trappings of a bedroom had been removed, and even the view outside had been pixelated inside the cage, leaving him with nothing to focus his eyes on but his captor, the strange man who called himself "Oberon", who seemed to enjoy nothing more than hurting him mercilessly.
"Trying to be stubborn again today, little hero-kun? You're not making this very fun for me. Come on, give me a scream. Let me hear your pathetic voice."
Kirito inhaled with shaking gasps, the pain lingering in his limbs, sharp, icy. Oberon loved this torture for the way it made him writhe in the chains; he liked to call Kirito "his little worm on a hook". Other times he'd nicked Kirito's skin with blades, over and over, watching the red pixels float up with a sadistic glee.
The names were always the worst. Degrading, mocking, full of venom and loathing, or a false admiration so sarcastic it bit like acid. Kirito could tell the man's moods apart from which sets he used. "Worm", "brat", "filth", and "roach" for when he was angry, when something out in the real world must not have gone his way. "Hero-kun" and "Kiri-chan" for when he thought he was winning his little mind games.
"My boy" and "honey" were some of the worst. Oberon liked to bring the nicer names out towards the end of his torture sessions—for when he'd pushed Kirito to the point where the boy was too tired or hurting to snark back at him—along with a faux concern as he let Kirito down from the chains.
"After all, it won't do to let my favorite toy break so easily," he would say, patting Kirito's cheek indulgently in a manner that made his skin crawl.
Kirito's chest shuddered as he inhaled in stuttering halts, trying to focus on the floor as his head hung. His vision swum a bit, ears still ringing from the latest shock.
Oberon's hand snaked under his chin, gripping his jaw hard and forcing him to look up. Kirito blinked up and hardened his eyes on the man suddenly out of the corner and up in his space, towering over him.
The fairy king sneered with a mouth long and wiry, sadism gleaming in his eyes. "What's the matter, Puck?" he asked. "Come on and give your king a song."
"Don't call me that!" Kirito snapped, jerking his chin out of the hard grip. His glare intensified, defiant and hateful. "My name is Kirito!" he emphasized.
The backhand to the left side of his face was expected, but no less sharp, and a pained yelp escaped him despite Kirito's attempt to bite it back. The boy scrambled to get his feet back underneath him, swinging in the chains.
"I'll call you whatever I like," Oberon said, unperturbed. The hand returned to his chin, squeezing harder this time, firm with possessive pressure. Oberon brought them almost nose to nose, breath foul and hot even in VR. "I am god and master here in this world. You only live because I allow it. I own you, Puck. Never forget that."
Oberon released him and Kirito tried to rub the feel of the man off his face, scraping his cheek against his sleeves. His stomach turned over with revulsion and humiliation. He hated how the man talked about him.
"Besides," Oberon said airly, pacing around Kirito slowly, "that's not even your real name is it, Kazuto?"
Ice entered Kirito's veins and his breath hitched through his teeth.
"W-what?" he stammered.
The fairy king bent at the waist, leering down. "Oh yes, I know who you are," he bragged. "Kirigaya Kazuto. The Hero of Aincrad. We have a mutual acquaintance out there in the real world, you and I. Perhaps you've heard of them? Silly girl used her own real name as her character avatar's."
Kirito had been panicking a bit internally, wondering for a split second who he had pissed off enough in Aincrad that could have somehow survived, somehow found out about his real name and trapped him here, until the last words pierced with a horrible clarity.
"You... you know Asuna?" he strained, voice warbling fearfully.
"Our dear Titania was looking so lovely the other day when she came to visit you in your hospital room." Oberon's voice was pleasant with a breathless edge. "You should have seen her face when I told her I knew exactly where you were." He savored every word. "That your life was in my hands."
Kirito felt his arms shaking above him. Mingled relief and horror flashed through him—Asuna was alive and awake in the real world, but she was being blackmailed and threatened by the man who held him prisoner now.
"So, you know... you should play nice, hero-kun," Oberon told him. "Otherwise I might get too angry and kill you, and accidentally lose my bargaining chip."
His captor let that hang for a pregnant moment, moving back in front of him. He extended the shock remote in one hand expectantly.
Kirito stared back, breathing with fearful anticipation, shame crawling through him at the unspoken ultimatum.
But when the trigger was pressed and the electricity coursed through him, he didn't actively stop the scream that came from his mouth, pained and shrill. God it hurt.
Oberon seemed satisfied with the noise he'd made, and released the trigger again.
"That's a good boy," he crooned.
He turned the electricity on two more times, drawing out more pained cries from him. Finally Oberon was done, putting away his remote and swiping through the menu to dematerialize the chains.
Kirito's arms strained in relief as the manacles disappeared from around his wrists. His feet couldn't catch him in time, and he toppled forward onto his knees, his palms smacking the floor.
His locked elbows trembled, his breaths hard, drawing insufficient air. He could already hear Oberon's mocking comment in his head about him being right where he should be, on his knees before his king, but he couldn't make himself get up, his limbs wouldn't move, he was so tired.
Oberon was already at the door, inputting the code to unlock the cage. Kirito had tried to glimpse the numbers a few times, but like the rest of the outside around the cage the number pad was pixelated for him, blurry.
"Your sister came by to see you again," the man was saying.
Kirito's breath gave a sudden hitch, his head shooting up.
"She's actually really cute," Oberon told him. He licked his lips perversely. "If I wasn't holding out for Asuna I could go for a girl like her."
Horror and terror and fury went straight through him, and Kirito used all his adrenaline and strength to stagger to his feet. He wobbled a split second, unsteady, and then lunged.
Oberon had already shut the cage, stepped back in amusement as Kirito made a clawing grab for him through the bars.
"You leave her alone!" the boy snarled. "Bastard! Don't touch her!"
"Tsk tsk," Oberon chided, one finger wagging at Kirito like he was a naughty child. He was the only clear game asset beyond the cage, horribly detailed from the sharpness of his canines down to the oil in the pores on his skin. "Don't get too excited, Puck. You'll damage yourself." He turned with a dismissive wave. "I won't hurt your sister if you behave, so don't worry about it." He stalked away, fading into the pixelated blur that surrounded Kirito's vision. "Until next time, hero-kun!" he called.
Kirito clenched the golden bars tight, shaking, until the last trace of him had vanished.
His knees gave out and he sagged to the floor, still clutching the bars, wishing he had his Aincrad strength and fortitude, because he felt like crying and puking at the same time right now.
"Asuna..." he breathed. "Wait for me," he begged the open air. "I'll get out... somehow."
But even as he said it the promise felt hollow and void, and Oberon's voice lingered in the empty space.