CyberWorld

Chapter One: Fracture

Just as I'm about to go through the front door, my foot knocks into something leaning against the wall on accident. I groan and place my tennis racket upright.

When was the last time I practised? I wonder. It wouldn't be surprising if I lost my skills entirely.

"Access denied."

I sigh and blink away the moisture in my eyes. Thinking about my Accounting grade on the way home ruined my mood.

"Access granted."

The front door slides open, and the automated voice greets me in a warm tone that's oddly comforting to hear, especially at the end of the day.

At the far end of the living room, Dad is seated in front of the holoview with his legs crossed and a mug in his hand. As I approach him, he slips off his reading glasses and places his drink on the table in front.

"Michael," Dad says. "Did you get your results?"

"Yeah," I say, the grip around the bag strap getting tighter. I'm not dying to talk to him, not after what happened two nights ago.

Placing my backpack on the table next to Dad, I pull out the test papers I collected throughout the day, dreading the moment he sees the last one.

"A for English. A- for Math and Science. A+ for Art," Dad looks up, oblivious to my shoulders tensing. "And...D for Accounting."

"Was it hard?" He asks.

"I know I could've done better."

Dad nods, handing the papers back to me.

"Well done for your other subjects, though."

I wasn't expecting Dad to lecture me, but the restraint in his tone isn't making me feel any better. As I begin to rush upstairs, Dad tries to break the tension in the air with some small talk. "An old associate," Dad points at the holoview.

On the NHK World-Japan channel, a young male reporter clad in grey with a microphone stands in front of a rose-tinted skyscraper that reflects the morning rays into the lens. The building's width is so extensive that the frame can only fit the main entrance. Even then, it's only a small segment to account for the monument sign to the reporter's right. Kakushin Games, it reads.

Next to the reporter, a tall woman in her late 20s with flowy dark hair and bangs, tugging the collar of the white button-up part of her formal wear, I notice the white of a T-shirt peeking through the top. She maintains a neutral smile for the camera, but it's obvious she'd rather be in something less formal. She's not being subtle with her glances at Okawa either, almost like she'd instead be hanging out with him one-on-one.

Meanwhile, another woman of roughly the same age and build stands a few feet behind the first, adjusting the dark spectacles resting on her nose. As the layers of her white coat billow in the evening breeze, she assumes the same stance she's carried for years—looking straight ahead with her hands in her pockets.

If someone didn't recognise Aiko Tokoshima and Suki Hachiyo, they might never have guessed they're two of the most powerful women in the world.

"I'm Matsuki Okawa, and in light of CyberWorld's 5th anniversary next month, we have arranged a special meeting with Kakushin's founders," Okawa says in Japanese as a translation of his words pops up. "Ms. Tokoshima, thank you for taking the time to do this interview."

Tokoshima smiles. "No biggie."

"It's barely been two years, but the Cognitive Resonance Gear is already on course to beat the iPhone's sales," Okawa says. "How does it feel to be behind one of the most successful products of all time?"