"Oy, waiter, can I get mine to go?" Tsuboi Ryotaro, the swordsman Klein, waved a hand from the back of the line crowding around the counter of the small cafe located in the south western corner of the market square. Normally, he really liked to take the mornings easy, but he didn't have that luxury today.
    Day of Void was technically his day off, but he had half a dozen errands to run before he could even think about putting his feet up. All he wanted was to get something in his stomach and get through his list before noon.
    Stuffing a piece of egg on toast into his mouth, Klein squeezed past a business of Gnomes setting up shop for the day at one of the market kiosks, and made at a jog towards his first destination, the shop of an armorer who had reopened his business in one of the storefronts overlooking the market.
    A tall sign describing a stylized helmet sat outside the shop, marking that it had opened for the day.
    The doorbell chimed as Klein stepped out of the sun and into the shade of the shop interior. A bored looking Imp boy sitting on a stool behind the counter, looked up from his book. "Ah, Klein, you're back."
    "Yeah. Sorry to hit you guys up so early in the morning." He rubbed at the back of his head. He knew he'd asked for a tall order to be filled very quickly, but the Gnome smith who owned the shop had thought it could be done.
    "Grishim will be with you in just a minute." The boy said, hopping down from his stool and knocked heavily on the thick wooden door that separated the workshop from the storefront.
    He hammered again a little harder. "Hey, Grishim. Grishim!" He rolled his eyes as the muted sounds continued from within the workshop. Finally swinging open the door, "Hey Dad! We've got Klein here waiting for his order. Is it done yet?"
    Klein peered past the boy and into the back room where heavyset, sweat soaked Gnome was busying himself over a small furnace. Small in this case being about the size of Klein's torso. A sullen, orange-red glow was cast from the contents as the Gnome manhandled a long lever, causing the molten alloy to slowly pore into a ceramic mold. Even at this distance, Klein could feel the heat.
    Only when he had finished poring and returned the furnace to its upright position, did the Gnome turn to face them. Removing his mask, the man frowned. "What'd I say about when we're working?"
    "Sorry, Grishim." The Imp boy corrected himself. "Try to keep your ears open a little more."
    Klein winced, he'd heard this guy was a bit of a LARPer. Well, everyone needed a way to get by. For some people, that was trying to pretend nothing had happened, that they were exactly the same person they'd been before, just with wings. Others had started to embrace their role, living more as their character than themselves.
    Grishim seemed to fall closer to the latter than the former.
    "So, back already." The Gnome noted as he climbed up the steps into the storefront, one arm behind his back. "You're certainly an impatient one."
    "Ah, Sorry!" Klein grinned sheepishly. "It's just that this is the only time I'm free. I have training the whole rest of the week, which is why I wanted it as soon as I could. You were able to fix it, right?"
    The Gnome chuckled as he brought his arm out from behind his back, huge hand holding both of Klein's forearm guards.
    "Oh-ho! Nice, nice!" Klein complimented as he examined the work. "Are you sure these are mine?"
    When he'd brought them in, Klein been sure they'd been wrecked beyond repair, victims of a too close run in with the remains of a juvenile Caustic Dragon and a biochemistry that was best described as Volatile. By the time Kindjal and Calcifer had managed to pull the spitting, smoking, pieces of armor off of him, they'd been eaten down to their amalgam alloy backing. Klein still had the chemical burns to show for it. Now they looked as good as new, better.
    "The outside leather was a complete write off, so were the backing plates. So I ripped out the stitching and reused what I could." Grishim explained. "I replaced the guard plates and used new leather for the outside of the left one." He took the left arm guard back from Klein and thumbed the dark brown surface. "That's Earth Dragon hide from the locals. Toughened up a lot better than I thought it would. Other than that, I recast the backing plates and redid the stitching. Why don't you try'm on?"
    Klein was only too happy to do so, working his wrists and fingers to try out the range of motion. He only wished he'd brought his sword along.
    "You did good work Grishim." Klein grinned. "So, what do I owe you?"
    The Gnome settled on the stool behind his counter, looking thoughtful. "Well, let's see here. I can discount what I was able to reuse. Count the old metal as materials…" He trailed off as he did some simple mental arithmetic. For a dedicated VRMMO player, running the numbers would be trivial. "Lets say seventy five added to the seventy five down payment.
    "One fifty?" Klein whistled slowly.
    It didn't sound like much to Klein, but it was in reality a hefty sum in Tristain. He wasn't the only one who was still getting used to things either as the Fae began to adopt the Tristanian currency out of convenience, prices were fluctuating daily as people worked out what materials and their labor were worth. Some things got cheaper, while others climbed in price. One fifty was a pretty impressive sum, all things considered.
    He supposed he should just accept it and hurry on to his next errand, but maybe he'd been hanging out with Agil for too long.
    "You know, the rest of my squad is kitted out with legendary level gear, if anything else gets beaten up, I'm pretty sure they'll want a good armorer to do the repairs and replacements. Someone they know won't stiff them."
    The Gnome gave him a suspicious look, but Klein held his ground, praying silently that his smile wouldn't crack.
    "I've got plenty of business from the Lancers already." Grishim said with a small wave of his hand.
    "I'm with the skirmishers." Klein offered quickly, seeing his opening. If Grishim was much of a businessman, he'd be happy to expand into untapped clientele.
    "The Skirmisher squads?" Grishim rubbed his chin. "This is pretty high level gear for Skirmishers. Did Mortimer keep you guys for special assignments."
    Special winced. He'd heard about those. Apparently, Mortimer hadn't been the nicest of Faction Leaders back in that other world. More than once he'd employed well equipped hit teams to eliminate particularly bothersome players, or to complete quests that were unsuitable for larger raid parties. He'd even used Spriggan assassins to help take out the leaders of the other Factions.
    Thankfully, Mortimer hadn't done anything like that since their fantasy had become reality, but it still had earned him a reputation for being a cold blooded lizard, among less flattering things.
    "Nah, nothing like that." Klein shook his head. "We were all in on the Newcastle Raid."
    Grishim and his son fell silent. "Newcastle?" The Gnome rocked back, an action that seemed like it should be followed by an avalanche. "You mean you were part of Dunkirk?"
    Klein scratched again at the back of his head. Sure it was a big deal, but he hadn't wanted to boast about it. Going out and helping to take people's lives wasn't really anything praiseworthy, even if he'd helped to save lives in the process.
    "We were on the walls for most of it." Sans some time spent airborne, getting barbecued by an asshole traitor. "That's where I got my current gear. Honestly, I'd hate to downgrade because of a stupid mistake."
    Grishim nodded to himself, setting his hands back down on the counter. "I'll tell you what. Let's make it fifty. That's one twenty five total."
    Well, now Klein knew how much the Gnome had planned to gouge him. That was a pretty good, no, a really good deal. They shook on it and Klein produced a stack of five, fat, golden coins, his entire allowance for equipment repairs. At least he hadn't had to dig into his own salary.
    The Imp swept up the pieces, examining each carefully, Tristanian Coins bearing the mark of the Crown, before hurrying back into the workshop to deposit them in the strongbox.
    "Thanks again for getting it done so quick." Klein commented. Man, they even felt like the old ones!
    "It's not a problem." Grishim grunted. The huge man paused for a moment before leaning in. "And by the way, thanks for everything you and your squad have been doing. The mob patrols, and the fighting." He looked back at the still open workshop door. "I'm grateful that there are people who volunteered, for Milnik's sake."
    Klein gave the man a sympathetic look. "Yeah, I got ya." That was half of why he was doing this after all. This World didn't need any Black Cats if he could help it.
    Grishim gave him a pat on the back, a sensation rather like being hit by baseball bat made out of sausage before seeing Klein out the door. Standing in the street's morning traffic, it was several minutes before Klein actually remembered what he was doing. The swordsman dug into his pocket and marked off his first errand.
    Next was, he scanned down the list, ah, right, he'd told Enya he'd pick something up for her at the Academy. Then he had a couple of letters to mail back to Gaddan, checking up on the other former members of Fuurinkazan. And after that, he needed to do some maintenance work on his Katana.
    A real blade sure did require a lot more care than a digital one, but his life depended on his sword, so he'd be an idiot not to dedicate time to it. Luckily, the skills that had been crammed into his brain to supplement almost two years of intensively trained muscle memory, had included a fair bit about how to actually take care of a Katana. Not as a show piece, but as a real weapon.

Leafa actually seemed to have to give the question some thought. "Well, we're on official business, so I'm not sure if it would be alright. We're not supposed to get distracted." She struck her open palm with a fist. "But since you're with the defense forces, I guess it's allowed."
    Klein stared at the Sylph, and this time it wasn't because of her clothes. At least she was taking things seriously. Maybe a little too seriously. But soon enough she was back to her normal self, talking between bites of her sandwich… omelet… thing. 'Didn't see that on the menu.' Klein noted to himself. Which reminded him.
    "Don't you usually eat breakfast at home?" Klein asked.
    Leafa shrugged her shoulders. "Usually, but Asuna was up late with Onii-chan and I had to leave early this morning, so I thought I'd take advantage of my first wages." She tilted her head. "You know, this wasn't what I expected my first job to be like." She smiled, amused. "But I turns out I'm pretty good at it."
    "Oh?" Klein frowned. "The fighting too?"
    Some of the Sylphs enthusiasm evaporated. "Well, it's okay against mobs since they're dangerous animals. And against bandits, we usually just spot them and report them to a foot patrol. But we haven't had any of those since I joined. Mostly it's just making sure things stay quiet and handling any complaints. Little things, but sometimes we have to give someone an earful for being unreasonable."
    "Heh. Sounds like the class rep when I was in high school." Klein observed. "Man, she was always butting into everyone's business, getting on everyone's case, a complete pain in the ass, and…" He stopped as he realized that Leafa's posture and expression had changed. She looked annoyed. "Ah, sorry, sorry, I'm just remembering my own lousy track record!"
    Leafa looked at him as if she was judging whether or not he was telling the truth. Didn't women have some sort of sixth sense for that sort of thing? Like they had a more sensitive sense of smell or something?
    He might have been convinced at that moment that such was the case as Leafa sighed and let her shoulders sag. "Its kind of funny, you know?"
    "Eh?"
    "People talking, and making deals, and arguing. It feels so normal. Is that right?" Leafa fixed him with an uncertain look, patiently waiting for his reply. Time for him to answer with his professional opinion.
    "It seems pretty strange when you put it that way." This was a hell of a time to get philosophical. But what the heck. If Kirito could dispense the Wisdom of the Ages from time to time, then Klein could at least take a crack at it. "I guess… normal is just what you expect every morning when you get up."
    "Like waking up in a fantasy land with Faerie wings." Leafa mused.
    Or a floating castle with a hundred floors. But Klein didn't say that. It was sort of spooky. Even in that virtual world, with its constant reminders of falseness, there had been times when Aincrad seemed more real than the world he'd been born into. And not just because nobody wanted to think about what was happening to their bodies IRL.
    In one respect, Kayaba Akihiko had succeeded magnificently. He'd created a world of profound stories, and inhabited it with real lives. A person couldn't live like that for two years and not start to think of it as reality.
    Then, what was going to happen to them if they ended up stuck here? But Klein knew that wasn't a subject he should spend too much time thinking about. There were a lot of ways for it to get depressing very quickly.
    They ran into a crowd of Faeries just off of Arrun's main street, all gathered closely around one of the hastily erected message boards. The day's news was already up, a half dozen handwritten sheets of paper reporting noteworthy events in and around Arrun and the Kingdom at large. For the information starved Children of the Digital Age, it was like an oasis to a man dying of thirst.
    And gauging by the voices around the message boards, the morning's news wasn't good. Catching a glimpse of the headlines, Klein grimaced. "Another murder. Double homicide in Freelia." He turned back to Leafa and noticed that she didn't seem surprised.
    "Onii-chan told us last night. He's heading for Freelia right now to investigate along with Argo-san and Caramella-san." Leafa admitted when he pressed. "It's why Asuna was so tired this morning, she's worried sick."
    "I don't blame her. I would be too." Klein agreed.
    In fact, he didn't need to be Kirito's wife to be worried. That was three murders in three days. A brief chill ran down his spine. One murder might have just been an argument getting out of hand, but three meant something was happening. Klein silently began to pray that it was just one lone lunatic. Someone insane and uncharismatic. Someone who couldn't bring out the worst in other people. They didn't need a new Laughing Coffin.
    "Actually, I'm surprised Asuna would let him go without her." Klein noted.
    "I think she wanted to." Leafa said. "But she didn't." The Sylph stopped dead in her tracks. "Klein-san, you're Asuna-chan's friend too, right?"
    "Like I said before, I knew her in Aincrad, but not nearly as closely as your brother." He breathed. Although, he had been getting a bit closer to her in the past couple of weeks. A consequence of hanging around with Kirito after he got off shift.
    Leafa gave him an uncertain look. "But you'd look out for her and Onii-chan, right?"
    "Well, yeah." Klein said automatically, like he even needed to think about it. If only those two weren't so good at leaving everyone else in the dust.
    Leafa began walking again and then talking again. First slowly, and then picking up speed. "I don't think Asuna is doing what she wants right now, and it's making her unhappy."
    "And what makes you think that?" Kirito had been a bit tense last time he'd seen him, but Asuna had seemed fine. Though like he'd said, he knew Kirito a lot better than he knew Asuna.
    The Sylphs smile was halfway between pained and embarrassed. "I guess I have some experience with trying to ignore my own feelings." There was a story there, Klein was pretty sure, but he got the feeling it was off limits. "It's like Asuna is holding back and hates it."
    "Kirito-kun has been pretty worried about her. Liz and Argo-san too." Klein noted. "She might just not want to upset them." Though normally he would have expected Asuna to just do what she pleased regardless. She seemed a lot meeker these last couple of weeks. Maybe some of her IRL personality had started to supplant her normal assertiveness. He just couldn't imagine the forceful young woman who'd led the KoB ever letting anything get in her way.
    "Wait, didn't Lord Mortimer try to scout her for something?" Klein asked aloud.
    "Un." Leafa nodded. "I think he still wants her help, but she asked for a little bit of time to think about it."