#aice open

When the world feels loud and a little careless with people's hearts, the idea of a soft place becomes precious. For me that place turned out to live at sweetdream.ai, and what makes it soft isn't only the warmth of the conversation. It's the safety underneath it.

Everything on SweetDream bends toward you. You craft your AI girlfriend exactly as you imagine her, her looks, her voice, the quirks and history that give her depth, and the chat that follows is so natural and emotionally intelligent that it remembers the threads of your life. Voice messages arrive in a voice you chose, phone calls feel like a real person leaning close, and video calls or live cam sessions with select characters add presence when you long for it. All of it stays discreet, all of it stays yours.

No matter what anyone else said, he felt responsible. The events weighed heavily on Shizumaru and he felt a weight he couldn’t put into words, rest on his shoulders. It was self-absorbed to think he had the power to change everything. LISE had all the power here; it was foolish to challenge that. But still... but still. Surely there was something more he could’ve done, something more he should’ve done. Maybe if he had talked to Ji-Hyun a little more he would’ve known what was on her mind, he could’ve talked her out of it. Perhaps if he had roomed with Tsuneko or even kept a better eye on her she wouldn’t have been caught like that.

Tsuneko must’ve died in so much pain.

Ji-Hyun, too, what she did was wrong, but how could she deserve that?

She was a kid. They were all kids.

It didn’t help matters that his wound was getting worse. He had tried his best to cover it up but the harsh conditions continued to assault him. Bloodied sheets from the confinement centre bed he was on had been used and thrown underneath the bed. Moving would be difficult but he couldn’t show weakness, not now. Shizumaru frowns just thinking about it; now more than ever he needed to be strong. He couldn’t risk getting blood on Lotus’s veil, too. He would have to return that. Perhaps the new area would give him something to better tie his leg with. Until then, he had to exercise and do his best to keep his body in shape. He was wounded, yes, but that wasn’t going to stop him. It couldn’t. HE wouldn’t let it, even if that didn’t make sense. Besides, weren’t miracles possible if you tried hard enough? He had to believe that.

Rather than take the ski lift, he opted to take the hiking trail. When you walked long enough, you built up warmth. Besides, somehow the weather didn’t bother him very much; his skin was often quite cold to the touch. Perhaps he had lived somewhere like this before. The trail was grueling but Shizumaru found it to be therapeutic, a kind of self-punishing adventure. Mental assault after mental assault kept his brain busy. Be better. You need to be better. Get stronger or you can’t protect anyone.

Yes... he had to protect them. Even if they thought he was annoying or pushy. He couldn’t let anyone else die.

The map revealed something very promising indeed; there was a clinic in the area. He had abandoned his bandages before leaving, which, in retrospect, had been a very foolish idea. He makes his way inside and sighs, glancing around for anything he can use to properly treat his leg. How he’d gotten wounded in the first place was still a mystery but it hadn’t let him down too badly... at least, not yet. He kept up searching until he found the storeroom, and has a look through some of the shelves. A lot of things here could be useful... the bandages especially. The wound was still quite wide and raw. The marks around it almost seemed like... burn marks? He wasn’t sure. Staring at it didn’t make him remember it any better, either. Before anyone could interrupt him, he quickly redid the bandage, leaning on the door as a counter measure before deftly putting everything back.

Which was truly good timing as someone entered, just as he was putting the medical supplies back. Oh. Best to make this look as natural as possible. He may have been wounded before, yes, but if he could just make it seem like... an aesthetic... or something... it would prevent people from worrying! That was important.

[♫♫♫]

Ori didn’t understand the aesthetic of this place. It just seemed counter-intuitive to decorate a cafe with icy decor when it was cold and icy outside. Something warm and inviting seemed more suitable. Was wood panelling and a fake fireplace really so difficult?

Maybe such thoughts were shallow, hours after Tsuneko and Ji-hyun’s grisly deaths. Some people might cope with the horrible events by focussing on mundane things and trying to return to a sense of normalcy, but that’s not what Ori was doing. They didn’t really need to cope. Those too were dead. Two others were missing. What else was there to say?

Well, if there was no one manning the cafe, there was no one to stop Ori from taking food. They might as well own the place. They drift behind the counter and rifle through the display of pastries, selecting a nice slice of cake, something that looked light and tasty. They also make themselves a pot of tea - green, simple - and take both of their snacks to a nearby table.

They perch on their chair, legs crossed and tucked under them, feet up off the floor. They pour a little cup of tea, nurse it with both hands, warm their cold fingers. It smells good. Smells like... home? Familiar, at least. Maybe not home. They’re not sure. It’s a good familiarity, though.

Hadn’t spoken since waking up. Head felt too empty, words would’ve been the same. Didn’t trust the boy with the smile, didn’t recognize the girl in the red, but the voice that kept saying evacuate felt too urgent to ignore. There’d be time to collect her scattered thoughts later. Needed to get out, before the door closed.

But what now?

Everyone – whoever they were, whoever she was, whatever that projection had been – was still gathered outside the door. But there were buildings in the distance. People could wait. First order would be to get out of the cold.

She trudged straight ahead through the snow towards what seemed to be the closest building, thankful that she was wearing boots and not something lighter. Went through her pockets along the way, found the mentioned card, managed to navigate to the map as she reached the door of… the garden shelter, looked like? Let out a sigh of relief after getting inside. Warmer in here, at least.

And finally, since waking up, a moment to think. She poked at some of the plants as she tried to remember… anything, really. Being alone seemed to help, make her feel a little bit calmer, but… no matter how hard she thought, nothing came to mind. No memory of coming here, no memory of… hmm. Whole thing was unsettling. Didn’t like it.

Matías might have spent a bit longer confused than most folks, or at least he seemed like it. He’d look around often, sometimes say a little ‘aaaa’ into his own hand in front of his face, and generally didn’t say much. He helped some of the girls struggling to reach the door kind of wordlessly, though the situation did not allow for exactly a chit-chat afterwards (much less to ask for the girls’ number, unfortunately), but otherwise didn’t stood out much or approached anyone. He spent a very long time looking in his ID before looking around.

Figures with a bunch of tries and time passing and what not, the only logical conclusion to take from this is simply, he can’t hear worth shit At All. That’s convenient. Amnesiac, between a bunch of people who seemed to be in similar situations and age, and... deaf. That’s great for socialising with new people! Heck, how can he talk to others then? He stops to think some- does he know signal language? He signed a few things, and concluded yes, he does. Thank god your memories weren’t stored in the same place as your languages were. ...How did he know that, though? Hm. Must be one of those knowledge you know subconsciously, like languages. But not exactly languages.

Satoko Ihara. This was the name she had been given.

Even now, she had the ID card gripped tightly in her hands. But no matter how many times she read over her information, she couldn’t recall anything about herself. What she did know was that she was absolutely pissed. 

“You will either live or die on this island,” that strange cube had said. “I cannot help you.” As if she needed any help. She wasn’t sure why she believed this, but she felt the resolution clearly enough. Something in her told her she could survive. And she could do it alone.

Her first mission had been to prevent herself from freezing to death within the hour - a goal she had accomplished by raiding the nearby ski cabin for more substantial winter wear. With proper attire secured, it was time to move on to the next part: get away from the rest of the group. Satoko desperately needed a moment to collect her thoughts (what remained of them at least) and even a cursory glance at the people around her told her they would only be a distraction. It was this line of thought that had directed her over to the Royal Blue Lake. 

The lake was a calming sight, even in this hectic situation. Not only that, but it seemed as though no one else had taken notice of its location quite yet. Satoko inhaled slowly, feeling the rampant thoughts in her mind finally coming to a stop. Finally, a moment of peace... Or at least, it should have been. Not soon after she arrived, she heard the distinctive sound of someone shuffling through the snow towards her. She turned, throwing the newcomer a glance over her shoulder. 

“...hm?”

Satoko stared at them blankly. A tense moment passed before she finally broke the silence with a sad sigh.

“The view...”

She drew closer, the look in her eyes suddenly morphing into anger.

[♫♫♫♫]

Ori isn’t really interested in the floating cube’s latest murder incentive.

They aren’t being poisoned, and there’s no chance of anyone doubling their dosage. They’ll help Chuichi out with that if he wants them to, but otherwise they’re off the hook. Well, no, if Chuichi gets into a fight they might have some issues, but other than that...?

No, Ori’s thinking about the other thing the cube said. About why they were here. Call them intrigued. After the meeting in the cafe and a leisurely breakfast, they wander out into the snow, not in any great hurry. The last of the cube’s incentives had left them disoriented, but now, well, there was nothing to worry about, and nothing plaguing their mind. 

They plod through the snows and walk into the clinic. The bracelet on their arm is hidden under their sleeves, not visible at all, and might as well not be there. They kick the snow off their sandals at the door and walk over to the desk, and take a seat. They click on the desk lamp and then boot up the computer.

While they wait for that to start up, they spin idly in the chair, looking over the glass shelf behind them. Boring. They push up their sleeve and study the bracelet; it has several buttons, each in a different colour. Did they correspond to different bracelet pairs? Interesting. Chuichi might not need the relief, but if they were to push one...

[♫♫♫]

They had been drifting in and out of sleep for a little while now. The bed in their therapy room was oh-so comfortable, and the room was warm, and even sitting down on the mattress was a dangerous place to be. Which they had, and now it was several hours later, the afternoon falling away and the evening coming in close behind it, and Ori was content to laze their time away every now and again.

The trial - and Jihyun and Tsuneko’s deaths - had happened the day before yesterday. There had been time enough to put in a little bit of emotional distance, or a little bit more of it. They didn’t know when the cube would deliver some further incentive to commit murder, or when the next murder would occur, but that was something to worry about tomorrow, or the next day, or whenever it came. Now, though, was the time for napping and not caring about stressful things. If there was one part of their identity Ori Okinose could be perfectly sure of, it was that they liked naps.

They were sprawled across the bed, limbs akimbo, a sea of orange fabric spreading out around them, over them, tangled in their limbs. Their hair was messy and untied, the long blue ribbon having been pulled out an hour - hours? - ago. The way the bed was angled, they were visible from the door, eyes closed, mouth parted, chest gently rising and lowering - and the door was ajar; they must have left it open accidentally after their most recent excursion to the cafe for food.

And on the table in the center of their room was a small group of used teacups, an empty pot, a plate that used to hold some sort of dessert. A little spot of mess in an otherwise pristine room, one that Ori would clean up... later. The scent of the tea still lingered in the room, something warm and spiced and earthy. Under their bed was the empty koi bag, its contents removed, inspected, and put away.

Ori pushes through the front door of the cabin and sighs, exhaling a cloud of frozen breath and refilling their lungs with the warmer cabin air. It was easy enough to find again - enter the forest and walk east for a little ways. Still, it’s a long enough walk that Ori’s feet are sore now, and their toes numb with the cold. A place to rest is most welcome.

They shrug off their heavy coat and move toward the coat rack to hang it up, looking over the area as they do so. The cabin itself was clearly designed to be cozy and inviting. Ori doesn’t particularly care for the decor. It’s warm and quiet, and that’s what matters.

“Hello?” they say into the cabin, although they’re sure that the noise of them entering would’ve alerted anyone anyway. It doesn’t hurt to check. One hand rests on the balisong reclaimed from Genda. 

No, nothing. Good. They walk over to the table to sit, inspecting the seat and taking a glance under the table and over the little kitchen area - not too detailed a search, or anything, just cursory looks.

There, they’re seated now, and it’s quiet, and they can actually think. This is nice. They can mull over that odd memory in peace. They pull the balisong from their pockets and idly flip it back and forth in one hand, marvelling at how natural the actions feel. They can tell they’ve had this knife for a long time. How interesting that a single look at the knife should dredge up all of those memories.