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Title: Access Denied
Chapter: 1/??
Author:![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
evilgeniuskoji
Pairing: Ruki/Reita
Genre: Scifi, mystery, general
Rating: PG-13
Warning: None
Summary: AU. Saiko Reality is the hottest new virtual reality simulator. With in-game experiences enhanced to maximum performance, this newest PSC product has integrated itself into the very heart of Central Tokyo, exceeding all expectations. However, is this highly realistic machination simply a game? As Ruki delves into the secrets of Saiko Reality in search of his lost memories, he discovers that "reality" isn't quite so pretty...
Comments: Decided to give multichaptered fics another go. Hoping it turns out well and doesn't suck. Thanks to my awesome beta,visualcomplex .
The world was breaking apart.
He could feel it as the world wavered and slipped in and out of focus, as he watched his arm shatter into disjointed pixels. They snapped back together, reforming neatly, only to turn to fragments again. The sound of his partner’s voice, frantically calling his name, sounded tinny and distorted, and grew more and more distant by the second.
“—ki! Snap out of it, we have to get out of here! They’re locking down on us—”
The strangest sensation washed over him, and every particle of his borrowed body felt pricked by needles, as if the whole thing had fallen asleep. His companion gave a cry of alarm as his hand went right through what had been a substantial shoulder.
A sharp pain throbbed in his temple, and he doubled over, the edges of his vision graying rapidly. The sensations that held him in existence began to numb; scent, touch, sight and sound was dead to him.
Sound came back abruptly to the flat buzz of white noise. His eyes stared into static, and two words flashing red:
Access Denied.
---
Light stung his eyelids and brought him to bleary, uncomfortable consciousness. Opening them took an amount of effort he’d not expected, and he felt stiff everywhere. A hiss of pain escaped between his teeth when he sat up.
The room he was in was a stark white, matching the starched bed sheets draped over his body. There was little else in the room, except for some sort of complicated machinery sitting by his bed.
Where was he? He had to get back, or they’d think…
He stopped short. Where did he have to go back to? Who were ‘they’?
Who…who was he?
A head of messy brown hair popped through the open door, and young brown eyes widened at the sight of him sitting up and obviously awake. "Morita-sensei! He’s awake!” the nurse hurried in, her uniform only slightly rumpled as she checked the machine next to him with eerie efficiency. “How are you feeling?” she asked in a kindly voice. “They found you passed out in a public Saiko Reality terminal in Akihabara. What were you doing there? They couldn’t find any connection to your collapse, and it’s not anemia or any physical weakness…”
Saiko Reality? Public terminal? A few hazy facts and pictures came to mind, but none of them made sense. His voice sounded thick and clumsy as he spoke. “I don’t…I’m not sure…miss, do you know who I am?” he asked rather desperately.
The nurse blinked at him owlishly, her hands still snapping switches and pushing buttons as if she were working on automatic. “I’m afraid not, sir,” her voice was apologetic. “We couldn’t find any identification on you at all, and that’s the strange thing. No license, no passport…you don’t even have a phone on you. If that game is starting to interfere with players physically, I’ll file a complaint, see if I don’t…” she frowned at his quickly paling face. “What’s the matter?”
“Does anyone know me? Can’t you find something about me somehow?” he asked quickly.
“No…” answered the brunette slowly. “Just a few personal items, and those will be returned to you soon. Why, what’s the matter?”
“I can’t remember,” he whispered. “I can’t remember anything. I don’t know who I am.”
---
“Amnesia,” Doctor Morita mused, his finger tapping a staccato on the clipboard in front of him. All useless of course; with today’s technology, all he had to do was press the standby button and a heat-sensitive keyboard would pop up. Neater and more efficient than paper, but it gave him an impressive appearance. “Temporary, maybe, but you never know with all those complicated brain waves they send out in order to make Saiko Reality function.”
The patient in question frowned and tried not to look impatient. He was a young man in his mid-twenties, with dyed blonde hair and a small, stocky stature. The furrow in his brows suggested a constant stubbornness.
Doctor Morita smiled. “Saiko Reality is a kind of…virtual reality game, I suppose. I don’t know the specifics; I don’t have experience in it myself.” He shrugged. “What I do know is that it seems to be able to make the in-game experience very realistic by sending signals to the brain cells with some kind of simulation. They fool the brain cells into believing their nerves have touched or done something, even taste and smell, to a degree.
“We’re not sure if it’s connected to your amnesia. As you know, you haven’t sustained any physical damage, though your brain waves are a bit erratic. Nothing dangerous.”
Frowning, the patient glanced down at his hands as if he might read his past from them. Doctor Morita noticed and changed the subject. “What do you plan to do when you’re discharged?”
From the startled glance the young man shot him, the doctor guessed that he hadn’t even thought about it yet, and smiled. “The company plans to compensate you fully until you get back on your feet,” he mused out loud. “They don’t want a lawsuit on their hands, and since they can’t seem to find any relatives, friends, or even a vague past on you, they’re taking full responsibility of your well-being for a few months.”
The startled look came again, with increasing suspicion. “Why would they do that?”
He laughed. “They don’t want Saiko Reality’s popularity to go down, of course. Or for you to sue them. Well? You’re sure to find a job that will support you, even if you don’t know your own skills—PSC will make sure of that. What do you intend to do?”
The blonde pondered the question with a brooding look that fit his face quite well. “Recover my memories, I suppose. There’s got to be someone, or something, somewhere…”
“In that case…” The doctor unclipped a sheaf of papers from the board. “Here. The details of what they found, and a report on your condition.” Then he pushed forward several items lying on the desk. “These are the things they found on you, other than your clothes.” A small bag slid in front of him, neatly sealed and marked.
He reached eagerly for the papers and bag, but Doctor Morita held up a hand. “Don’t try interfacing with Saiko again,” warned the older man sternly, a strange look in his eyes. “It may cause more permanent damage, and I don’t entirely trust it not to. There are too many unexplained mechanics in those simulators. We’ll make some arrangements so you have regular appointments with me if you want to remember everything.” At the boy’s curious glance, he smiled. “I happen to have a degree in psychology as well, you know."
The papers were relinquished as soon as he nodded. His eyes darted across the page, taking in the information in jumpy flashes. None of it triggered any sense of familiarity, so he set it aside and reached for the bag, but his hand slipped and its contents spilled onto the table with a clatter. He sighed in relief to find nothing broken. Jewelry, a wallet, several other things. The light caught on a small, slim, rectangular card; without thinking, he scooped it up.
At first it appeared to be made of smooth glass, and both perfectly clear and unremarkable. When he twisted his wrist, however, the light caught on its iridescent surface and he saw something inscribed into it.
In one corner was a logo, a set of black and red squares imprinted over three little red letters spelling out ‘PSC’. In the middle was a set of clear cut lines acting as some sort of barcode, and two characters spelling out what must’ve been a name.
“What is this?” he asked, flipping it around. There was nothing on the back. “From what I understand, it’s like an identification card for accounts on Saiko Reality,” Morita answered. “They found that in the slot of the machine and assumed it was yours, but the account had already logged out. That card provides the ID for it, but it also requires a passphrase in order to log onto that account.”
He turned the card around again, rubbing his fingers over the two characters. “Then this must be…”
“Your screen name, yes.”
The boy was quiet for a moment. “Since I don’t have a name…” he began.
A faint smile broke over the doctor’s face. “You plan to use it?”
“It’s the only name I have now.”
“Very well, Ruki-san. Shall we proceed with the check up so you can be discharged? We do not have a great many of beds, and I’m in no doubt that there is someone in the emergency room in need of yours.”
Chapter: 1/??
Author:
evilgeniuskojiPairing: Ruki/Reita
Genre: Scifi, mystery, general
Rating: PG-13
Warning: None
Summary: AU. Saiko Reality is the hottest new virtual reality simulator. With in-game experiences enhanced to maximum performance, this newest PSC product has integrated itself into the very heart of Central Tokyo, exceeding all expectations. However, is this highly realistic machination simply a game? As Ruki delves into the secrets of Saiko Reality in search of his lost memories, he discovers that "reality" isn't quite so pretty...
Comments: Decided to give multichaptered fics another go. Hoping it turns out well and doesn't suck. Thanks to my awesome beta,
visualcomplex .The world was breaking apart.
He could feel it as the world wavered and slipped in and out of focus, as he watched his arm shatter into disjointed pixels. They snapped back together, reforming neatly, only to turn to fragments again. The sound of his partner’s voice, frantically calling his name, sounded tinny and distorted, and grew more and more distant by the second.
“—ki! Snap out of it, we have to get out of here! They’re locking down on us—”
The strangest sensation washed over him, and every particle of his borrowed body felt pricked by needles, as if the whole thing had fallen asleep. His companion gave a cry of alarm as his hand went right through what had been a substantial shoulder.
A sharp pain throbbed in his temple, and he doubled over, the edges of his vision graying rapidly. The sensations that held him in existence began to numb; scent, touch, sight and sound was dead to him.
Sound came back abruptly to the flat buzz of white noise. His eyes stared into static, and two words flashing red:
Access Denied.
---
Light stung his eyelids and brought him to bleary, uncomfortable consciousness. Opening them took an amount of effort he’d not expected, and he felt stiff everywhere. A hiss of pain escaped between his teeth when he sat up.
The room he was in was a stark white, matching the starched bed sheets draped over his body. There was little else in the room, except for some sort of complicated machinery sitting by his bed.
Where was he? He had to get back, or they’d think…
He stopped short. Where did he have to go back to? Who were ‘they’?
Who…who was he?
A head of messy brown hair popped through the open door, and young brown eyes widened at the sight of him sitting up and obviously awake. "Morita-sensei! He’s awake!” the nurse hurried in, her uniform only slightly rumpled as she checked the machine next to him with eerie efficiency. “How are you feeling?” she asked in a kindly voice. “They found you passed out in a public Saiko Reality terminal in Akihabara. What were you doing there? They couldn’t find any connection to your collapse, and it’s not anemia or any physical weakness…”
Saiko Reality? Public terminal? A few hazy facts and pictures came to mind, but none of them made sense. His voice sounded thick and clumsy as he spoke. “I don’t…I’m not sure…miss, do you know who I am?” he asked rather desperately.
The nurse blinked at him owlishly, her hands still snapping switches and pushing buttons as if she were working on automatic. “I’m afraid not, sir,” her voice was apologetic. “We couldn’t find any identification on you at all, and that’s the strange thing. No license, no passport…you don’t even have a phone on you. If that game is starting to interfere with players physically, I’ll file a complaint, see if I don’t…” she frowned at his quickly paling face. “What’s the matter?”
“Does anyone know me? Can’t you find something about me somehow?” he asked quickly.
“No…” answered the brunette slowly. “Just a few personal items, and those will be returned to you soon. Why, what’s the matter?”
“I can’t remember,” he whispered. “I can’t remember anything. I don’t know who I am.”
---
“Amnesia,” Doctor Morita mused, his finger tapping a staccato on the clipboard in front of him. All useless of course; with today’s technology, all he had to do was press the standby button and a heat-sensitive keyboard would pop up. Neater and more efficient than paper, but it gave him an impressive appearance. “Temporary, maybe, but you never know with all those complicated brain waves they send out in order to make Saiko Reality function.”
The patient in question frowned and tried not to look impatient. He was a young man in his mid-twenties, with dyed blonde hair and a small, stocky stature. The furrow in his brows suggested a constant stubbornness.
Doctor Morita smiled. “Saiko Reality is a kind of…virtual reality game, I suppose. I don’t know the specifics; I don’t have experience in it myself.” He shrugged. “What I do know is that it seems to be able to make the in-game experience very realistic by sending signals to the brain cells with some kind of simulation. They fool the brain cells into believing their nerves have touched or done something, even taste and smell, to a degree.
“We’re not sure if it’s connected to your amnesia. As you know, you haven’t sustained any physical damage, though your brain waves are a bit erratic. Nothing dangerous.”
Frowning, the patient glanced down at his hands as if he might read his past from them. Doctor Morita noticed and changed the subject. “What do you plan to do when you’re discharged?”
From the startled glance the young man shot him, the doctor guessed that he hadn’t even thought about it yet, and smiled. “The company plans to compensate you fully until you get back on your feet,” he mused out loud. “They don’t want a lawsuit on their hands, and since they can’t seem to find any relatives, friends, or even a vague past on you, they’re taking full responsibility of your well-being for a few months.”
The startled look came again, with increasing suspicion. “Why would they do that?”
He laughed. “They don’t want Saiko Reality’s popularity to go down, of course. Or for you to sue them. Well? You’re sure to find a job that will support you, even if you don’t know your own skills—PSC will make sure of that. What do you intend to do?”
The blonde pondered the question with a brooding look that fit his face quite well. “Recover my memories, I suppose. There’s got to be someone, or something, somewhere…”
“In that case…” The doctor unclipped a sheaf of papers from the board. “Here. The details of what they found, and a report on your condition.” Then he pushed forward several items lying on the desk. “These are the things they found on you, other than your clothes.” A small bag slid in front of him, neatly sealed and marked.
He reached eagerly for the papers and bag, but Doctor Morita held up a hand. “Don’t try interfacing with Saiko again,” warned the older man sternly, a strange look in his eyes. “It may cause more permanent damage, and I don’t entirely trust it not to. There are too many unexplained mechanics in those simulators. We’ll make some arrangements so you have regular appointments with me if you want to remember everything.” At the boy’s curious glance, he smiled. “I happen to have a degree in psychology as well, you know."
The papers were relinquished as soon as he nodded. His eyes darted across the page, taking in the information in jumpy flashes. None of it triggered any sense of familiarity, so he set it aside and reached for the bag, but his hand slipped and its contents spilled onto the table with a clatter. He sighed in relief to find nothing broken. Jewelry, a wallet, several other things. The light caught on a small, slim, rectangular card; without thinking, he scooped it up.
At first it appeared to be made of smooth glass, and both perfectly clear and unremarkable. When he twisted his wrist, however, the light caught on its iridescent surface and he saw something inscribed into it.
In one corner was a logo, a set of black and red squares imprinted over three little red letters spelling out ‘PSC’. In the middle was a set of clear cut lines acting as some sort of barcode, and two characters spelling out what must’ve been a name.
“What is this?” he asked, flipping it around. There was nothing on the back. “From what I understand, it’s like an identification card for accounts on Saiko Reality,” Morita answered. “They found that in the slot of the machine and assumed it was yours, but the account had already logged out. That card provides the ID for it, but it also requires a passphrase in order to log onto that account.”
He turned the card around again, rubbing his fingers over the two characters. “Then this must be…”
“Your screen name, yes.”
The boy was quiet for a moment. “Since I don’t have a name…” he began.
A faint smile broke over the doctor’s face. “You plan to use it?”
“It’s the only name I have now.”
“Very well, Ruki-san. Shall we proceed with the check up so you can be discharged? We do not have a great many of beds, and I’m in no doubt that there is someone in the emergency room in need of yours.”
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