At a bit of a loss, Vance stared at the new sheet of parchment in frustrated silence, his elbow propped up against the table as he rested his head against the palm of his hand. For the moment, he decided to write at least one more letter. However, that didn't exactly mean he knew
what to write about. Sure, he could cheat a little by writing another letter to one of the previous three. At the same time, though, he felt as if he wrote all that needed to be written down.
More moments passed as he leaned back and shut his eyes in silence, finding himself at an impasse. And eventually, an idea struck. He sat up, self-conscious with an uncertain expression on his face. It was certainly
an idea. The only one he had that didn't involve half-assing it with fictional people. But was it a good one?
No, probably not.
Sheepishly scratching his cheek and sighing, he picked up the brush and began writing once more, albeit with some hesitance.
-----
Hi. It's been a while since we had a moment of calm to talk. And no, I refuse to count... whatever the hell that was, last time. Though you'd never hear me admit it back then, I liked the banter we exchanged between us, even the jokes at my expense. I miss it... but I also know I completely ruined the chances of returning to that, too. In any case, there is something I should have said back then before things got the chance to escalate.
I'm sorry. For everything.
I knew those words needed to be said once you expressed exactly how you felt, and I saw firsthand, how my actions and words affected your mindset. And I could've said it then... but I suppose I got too heated to do so. I'm not even sure why anymore. But I won't make any excuses. Or I'll try not to, anyway. Anything is going to sound like one, after all.
Anyway... I heard from Chihiro that she alerted you to what had happened to me right after I left you at the HQ that day? Let me just say that I'm alright now. Though I was forced to stay in the hospital for about a week. That was certainly fun.
During that time, while I was cut off from most of my contacts, I had a lot to think about, from why I started playing "The World" to, yes, the very argument that's been making things awkward between us now. After all, I wasn't obligated to say anything at all to you. I could've just let Vance fade away from the public eye without a word to anyone and left you to your own devices. But I didn't. And while I'm still not ready to discuss every secret of mine that convinced me that the stupid, vague, and roundabout way I handled that discussion was a good idea, there are a still few things that I'm willing to say.
I've registered and logged into this version of The World with ulterior motives; that much you have probably deduced. At the same time, I figured that since I was here, I could do something on the side that'd let me leave my mark on The World. Something that I would enjoy beyond the grind. Something that'd remind me of times when I simply enjoyed the game for what it was on the surface.
What that turned out to be, as you might've guessed, was Aontacht. And it was during its initial stages that I met and recruited you, along with several people I've come to know during those first few months playing the game. Running and managing the guild while having fun and getting to know you and its other members felt fulfilling, and its growth was something I could take pride in.
And then CC Corp shelved the system suddenly and unceremoniously after being silent about it for a while. And to make up for it? 500 GP. Merely compensation for the registration. No acknowledgment at all of the time and effort we guildmasters spent cultivating and building up our guilds. Just something for them to sweep under the rug. That affected me for a bit, as you might remember. And though I soon got over it, I guess I never quite forgiven them, either. Probably part of the reason I hole myself up in that old HQ these days, as silly as it is for me to do so.
However, being forced into a hospital bed for an extended period of time with minimal online engagement hits you with some clarity on a lot of things. While I don't regret forming Aontacht one bit, what I wanted wasn't the guild's continued existence. Not really, anyway.
If anything, what I didn't realize until recently was that the whole thing was me trying to emulate, to some extent, my experience with being in a small guild when I was a child back in R:1, where it really felt as if we were a close-knit group of companions even long after that game was shuttered.
That's when I realized it — what I actually wanted was that feeling of camaraderie again and for it to actually stick. That guild I mentioned? Split apart by circumstances unknown to me before it was too late, and those of us who are still around just aren't the same. And my guild in R:2? Don't expect those kinds of vibes from an infamous den of player killers.
When it closed, it seemed that Aontacht would be an expedited case, especially since it was shuttered before we could ever organize anything as a single group. And all those members? Most of them I haven't heard from since.
Except you.
You were still there and continued to be. Upon realizing that, the true form of my regrets over Aontacht became known to me. I had let the loss of the guild's forced closure distract me from the fact that what I was truly looking for was still within my reach, even if Aontacht itself no longer had a tangible form. I regret not hanging out with you more in-game when I still had more chances to do so as a normal player. I regret burying myself in work rather than confiding in you when my problems in the game began to overwhelm me. And most of all, I regret fostering the feelings of inadequacy you displayed to me the last time we met and treating you as if you were nothing in a misguided attempt to drive you away from the game for your own safety while keeping all my secrets intact.
Because in the end, you were what I needed all along — a true friend in the game that I could depend on to be nearby when all the others simply faded away.
I'm pretty sure the both of us remember the last thing I said to you before you left that day. That statement was rhetorical and, if anything, was more-or-less something born from slight bitterness over the fact that I didn't get what I wanted from the conversation we had right before. But to my surprise, you actually answered back with a genuine response. Since I'm not putting on the act here, I feel obliged to honestly respond back.
Though I'm not sure to what extent, you're important to me, and if that weren't true, I wouldn't have bothered to try to force you to stop playing in the first place. Regardless of the terrible way I went about it, all I wanted to do was to keep you safe from this game's secrets before it has the chance to turn you into another one of its victims, because out of everyone here, you're the last person I want to have that happen to.
Simply put, I "quite like you" too.
...God, that was embarrassing even before I lifted the brush off the page.
Just... let me just say this, before I close this off. Even if you may feel useless and inadequate at times due to the words of a certain insensitive jackass, know that that same jackass was also lying through his teeth. You're a good person, and he believed you to be capable of a lot of things if you put your mind to it.
Unfortunately, that kindness was also what he was afraid of. He was certain that you'd continue to try to help even if he had explained to you in great detail why he thought your continued presence would eventually bring harm to you, especially since you were his friend. It was a risk he grew increasingly fearful of when he was charmed into striking you with an unnatural skill that could have brought real harm and pain upon you had the circumstances been more dire than they were.
And so he went with the nuclear option, willingly trying to sabotage your esteem of him while doing a number on your self-confidence and showing just enough of the real potential threat hidden behind CC Corp's curtains. And while he certainly managed to do a number on your self-esteem, he ultimately failed at getting what he wanted, when he could have had a better chance at it by explaining things to you calmly and rationally. While it's too late for that now, just know that there's no need for you to listen to the words of a fool. You're better than you think you are, and he knew it.
Sincerely,
Vance
-----
Vance had yet to write down the "recipient's" name, not that it wouldn't be obvious to her should it ever get into her hands, especially near the end. By the time it was finished, he ended up with a small, but still somewhat intimidating stack of parchment before he even realized it.
Was it weird that he chose to express his true feelings in this situation? In this manner? As opposed to swallowing his pride and actually voicing them aloud to her face-to-face at a more appropriate time and place?
Yeah, probably.
Particularly when — as noted by the last section he was becoming exponentially embarrassed of having written the longer he stared at it — he wasn't quite certain what the extent and nature of those feelings really were. Rather than look deep inside himself and address those questions head on inside, he chose to do what any typical young man with unresolved issues plaguing him would do.
Be a wuss and bottle them up, of course.
Well, platonic love letters exist. Rather, he was mentally clinging onto that idea like it was his sole lifeline, but he was pretty sure it was true. The Crusader turned the impulsively written letter over before his face could redden further from embarrassment. Taking a deep breath, he calmed his nerves and stood up, leaving behind the writing implements, letters, and leftover parchment on the writing table. With time, that somber stoicism returned to his face, almost as if he had never written the letter at all.
There was no point in dwelling on it, either way. After all, it wasn't as if it was actually going to be
sent. That letter, as well as all the ones before it, were outlets that served the same purpose. All of those memories, those feelings that tied "Vance" to
The World?
Soon to be all burnt away, left unspoken and forgotten, as they should be.
Once again, he was standing at the starting point, making sure his paper mask was still firmly on before the chef and any of the other roaming oni could see his actual human face. And again, the group was gathered, each having made a little more progress than before. Ingine was back now, having completed the first task he set for himself, and apparently so did the newcomer, who was inquiring what he could do next rather than snatch up a task for himself.
"I see you just met the new guy, Ingine. He came in a little while sometime after you and I left this room. C already gave him the okay," he said, briefly glancing at the Soul Eater who was up to her own devices, before returning his attention to the rest of the group. Now that they were in the same room, Ingine
had to have noticed something was off about the guy, right?
"Anyway, I need a change of pace, so I'm going get the sludge for the Thunder Brew." He elevated his voice just enough so that the entire party could hear and know what he was up to. Looking toward Geumsaek as best as he could with his mask, he continued,
"You can try splitting up the remaining work among the four of you. There should still be quite a bit left to do."With a casual wave, he turned and left the room in search of the Yellow Sludge he needed. There was still technically one letter left for him to write so that there'd be enough Cloud Brew for everyone, but he figured he could bullshit the last one when came back, assuming one of the others wouldn't go ahead and take care of it in his absence.