Meanwhile, a couple of hours passed, and the Allies stopped to celebrate their victory at the local St. Patrick's Tavern. Sato was sitting at a table in the corner of the tavern with his arms crossed and his head slightly tilted. He tried to hide his anxiety, but it was still visible in his eyes. Scarlet didn't look the same as always. Even though her face remained calm, he could sense that something was wrong. She was... another
"Is everything okay?" Sato asked, raising an eyebrow. His voice was warm, but there was a slight note of concern in it, which was rare. He was usually reserved and reserved, but in her presence everything changed. Scarlet didn't answer right away, but put her glass down on the table. In her hands was the beer glass they had started the evening with. Usually, Scarlet greeted such moments with jokes, laughing and enjoying the company, but now.
"It's okay," her voice sounded flat, like an automatic repetition of a phrase, as if she wanted to believe it herself. Sato couldn't figure out what was wrong with her. Everything seemed to be the same, but he could feel the tension. Sato was watching her closely, not hiding his wariness. He knew her like the back of his hand, knew how she was always full of energy, how her laughter and wit never left her. But today... Something was wrong. Scarlet sat across from him, her hands gripping the glass so that her fingers turned white, and her eyes, which used to radiate confidence, were now some kind of hidden shadow.
He sighed, and it was so soft that only she could hear it.
"That's not why you came, is it?" Sato asked, his words direct but gentle, as if he was trying to understand her. He wasn't just a colleague or a friend, he was the one who tried to sort her out even when she was trying to hide her thoughts.
Scarlet looked down for a moment, and her lips twitched slightly, but she didn't respond. It was weird. Normally, she would have retorted right away, made a joke, laughing at herself, or at least answered in her usual style.
Instead, her hand slowly lowered to the table, leaving the glass. At that moment, Sato felt the air in the room become thicker, and he could almost feel them both being pulled into some invisible circle of silence.
—You know you can't lie to me,— Sato continued, his tone becoming more confident.
Scarlet looked up, and although she didn't say a word, her gaze was full of hidden emotion, as if she was struggling with some kind of internal conflict. And at that moment, Sato understood. It wasn't about what was happening in the game, not about wins, not about competitions. It was something more that was pulling her down, something she clearly didn't want to talk about.
"It's okay,— she repeated, but now her voice was almost empty, as if the words had lost their power.
Sato wasn't ready to back down. He wasn't the type to just give up. He glanced at her face first, then said:
—Why don't you tell me what's really going on, Scarlet?"
She sighed silently, her gaze became a little softer, but something was hidden in her eyes.
"Not now, Sato,— she whispered, but there was no lightness in her voice.
Scarlet lifted her head slightly and looked at him, her eyes meeting his. There was a flicker of faint alarm in them, which she hastened to hide. She paused, as if about to say something, but changed her mind at the last moment.
"I have to go anyway," she said softly, as if not wanting to burden him with her burden. There was no longing or joy in her words, just a certain heaviness that she herself tried not to notice. Sato felt something tighten inside him. . He grabbed her arm, keeping her from standing up. Fingers wrapped around her wrist, but they didn't squeeze too hard, just a light touch. He didn't know why, but at that moment he felt that if she left, something inside him would collapse. As if he had lost not just a character in the game, but something more important.
"Don't you want to talk?" His voice was low, almost a whisper, as if he was afraid to break the moment. Scarlet tilted her head to the side, her face softened. She didn't say anything, but her gaze was full of something vague. Maybe pity, maybe regret. Sato continued to hold her hand, feeling her warmth, which was beginning to seem too fragile.
"You do understand... I can't explain everything now, give me time," her words were like a light shadow in the room that stayed with him even when she was silent. Sato felt the air in the tavern become thicker, as if these words were hanging in the air, preventing him from moving on. He didn't know what exactly she was hiding, but he sensed that it was something important. Something that has nothing to do with wins or games, but permeates everything that happens in between. The words she didn't say were heavy, leaving him at a loss.
—Okay, so be it,— his reply was quiet, almost inaudible. He didn't know what to add. All he wanted was for her to stay so she could share it, no matter what exactly was behind her silence.
But there was more than just detachment in her gaze, more than just a determination to leave. He could feel her emotions being held back, her inner struggle gradually pulling her out of their small, cozy world. Sato squeezed her hand a little harder, but not so much that it became insistent. He wanted her to stay, but he didn't know how to make her feel that it was important.
"You know I'm here if you need me.".. His words trailed off as he realized how they sounded. He couldn't just say that everything would be fine, because he knew that sometimes words can't cover the gap.
Scarlet looked at him again, and there was something in her eyes that he couldn't understand. Not regret, not pain, but rather something deeper, like dark water, in which danger is hidden.
"It's not always that simple," she repeated, more confidently now. It was as if she wasn't talking to him, but to herself. "Sometimes.".. There are too many things for one person to handle.
Sato felt his heart tighten. He wanted her to continue, to keep her mind open. But he knew that this time she would not give him the key to her pain. And at that moment, he realized that her detachment wasn't just a consequence of the game, it was part of what was happening in her real life. And that was something that Sato couldn't control.
He released her hand, but only for a moment, giving her space but not letting her go too far.
Sato froze as she turned around, her gaze meeting his again. There was a shadow of something indefinable in her eyes-maybe regret, maybe forgiveness, or maybe just the fact that they both understood that something important was left unspoken. There was silence in the air, as if time had stopped for a moment.
Scarlet didn't take a step back. She just stood there, her figure illuminated by the dim light from the fire in the fireplace, and Sato felt a cold heaviness grip his heart. He wanted to say something, something that could hold her back, but the words stuck in his throat like a stone.
"I'll be back, though, as always," she finally said, her voice low, almost lulling, but there was no previous confidence in it. It wasn't a promise, but rather an attempt to convince herself.
Sato could only nod. He didn't know what to say. She was walking away, but her words left more questions than answers. He felt that there was not just a pause between them, but a whole chasm that was now impossible to just jump over. And although she was still a part of the game, a part of this world, Sato understood that it was more than just virtual reality. It concerned both of them. He knew her virtual identity, but he had no idea about the real one in the real world.
She took a step towards the door, and the moment her figure almost disappeared behind it, he finally made up his mind.
—Be careful," his voice was quiet, but there was genuine concern in it, which he did not hide. This was the last chance to say at least that much before it was too late.
Scarlet nodded slightly without turning around and disappeared through the door. Sato remained sitting at the table, thinking that if she returned, they would no longer be the same as they had been before. There was too much that remained unspeakable, and it worried him.
Scarlet lifted her head slightly and looked at him, her eyes meeting his. There was a flicker of faint alarm in them, which she hastened to hide. She paused, as if about to say something, but changed her mind at the last moment.
"I have to go anyway," she said softly, as if not wanting to burden him with her burden. There was no longing or joy in her words, just a certain heaviness that she herself tried not to notice. Sato felt something tighten inside him. . He grabbed her arm, keeping her from standing up. Fingers wrapped around her wrist, but they didn't squeeze too hard, just a light touch. He didn't know why, but at that moment he felt that if she left, something inside him would collapse. As if he had lost not just a character in the game, but something more important.
"Don't you want to talk?" His voice was low, almost a whisper, as if he was afraid to break the moment. Scarlet tilted her head to the side, her face softened. She didn't say anything, but her gaze was full of something vague. Maybe pity, maybe regret. Sato continued to hold her hand, feeling her warmth, which was beginning to seem too fragile.
"You do understand... I can't explain everything now, give me time," her words were like a light shadow in the room that stayed with him even when she was silent. Sato felt the air in the tavern become thicker, as if these words were hanging in the air, preventing him from moving on. He didn't know what exactly she was hiding, but he sensed that it was something important. Something that has nothing to do with wins or games, but permeates everything that happens in between. The words she didn't say were heavy, leaving him at a loss.
—Okay, so be it,— his reply was quiet, almost inaudible. He didn't know what to add. All he wanted was for her to stay so she could share it, no matter what exactly was behind her silence.
But there was more than just detachment in her gaze, more than just a determination to leave. He could feel her emotions being held back, her inner struggle gradually pulling her out of their small, cozy world. Sato squeezed her hand a little harder, but not so much that it became insistent. He wanted her to stay, but he didn't know how to make her feel that it was important.
"You know I'm here if you need me.".. His words trailed off as he realized how they sounded. He couldn't just say that everything would be fine, because he knew that sometimes words can't cover the gap.
Scarlet looked at him again, and there was something in her eyes that he couldn't understand. Not regret, not pain, but rather something deeper, like dark water, in which danger is hidden.
"It's not always that simple," she repeated, more confidently now. It was as if she wasn't talking to him, but to herself. "Sometimes.".. There are too many things for one person to handle.
Sato felt his heart tighten. He wanted her to continue, to keep her mind open. But he knew that this time she would not give him the key to her pain. And at that moment, he realized that her detachment wasn't just a consequence of the game, it was part of what was happening in her real life. And that was something that Sato couldn't control.
He released her hand, but only for a moment, giving her space but not letting her go too far.
Sato froze as she turned around, her gaze meeting his again. There was a shadow of something indefinable in her eyes-maybe regret, maybe forgiveness, or maybe just the fact that they both understood that something important was left unspoken. There was silence in the air, as if time had stopped for a moment.
Scarlet didn't take a step back. She just stood there, her figure illuminated by the dim light from the fire in the fireplace, and Sato felt a cold heaviness grip his heart. He wanted to say something, something that could hold her back, but the words stuck in his throat like a stone.
"I'll be back, though, as always," she finally said, her voice low, almost lulling, but there was no previous confidence in it. It wasn't a promise, but rather an attempt to convince herself.
Sato could only nod. He didn't know what to say. She was walking away, but her words left more questions than answers. He felt that there was not just a pause between them, but a whole chasm that was now impossible to just jump over. And although she was still a part of the game, a part of this world, Sato understood that it was more than just virtual reality. It concerned both of them. He knew her virtual identity, but he had no idea about the real one in the real world.
She took a step towards the door, and the moment her figure almost disappeared behind it, he finally made up his mind.
—Be careful," his voice was quiet, but there was genuine concern in it, which he did not hide. This was the last chance to say at least that much before it was too late.
Scarlet nodded slightly without turning around and disappeared through the door. Sato remained sitting at the table, thinking that if she returned, they would no longer be the same as they had been before. There was too much that remained unspeakable, and it worried him.
When the tavern door closed behind her, a strange chill swept through his mind. He looked at the computer screen, and the familiar "User logged out" sign flickered as a reminder that her image was disappearing from his world.