Her Mission To Save Them All || Sword Art Online Fanfic

Chapter 38

Bee782, thank you for your suggestion on how to describe being strangled by a snake. While your suggestion of "Aurgggg" has not made it in into this part, it will be immortalised in this author's note. Also, your marvel references are not useful.

Also, I won't do authors notes like this very often, but this is the only way I can express my gratitude to you guys for reading.

So, thank you to ShiyoAmayaki for being the best grammar Nazi for my earlier parts. Hopefully I should being editing at least the first chapter soon.

And thank you to DeviantTales for all your comments, votes and reads! This chapter is so that you don't have to keep re-reading the other ones.

POV: Kayoko

I wait for a couple of hours before re-entering the pub, trying to train my eyes on the activities of the people walking past me. I don't spot anything that seems unusual, but I keep my guard up anyway.

No one seems to notice me as I slip past them, for this time I have replaced my red cape for a brown one that covers any of my distinguishing features.

If anything, it makes people stare at me more than before. At least I can also take comfort in the fact that no matter how hard they stare, they aren't going to identify the person beneath.

One hand reaches out to ring the bell as soon as I can slot myself in between the figures at the bar. The note rings twice, cutting clean through the air and into a bartender's ears, where he hurries up to great me.

"Sir," he says, voice holding a little tremble. I smile, knowing his fear means I'm on the right track. "What drink would you like?"

I wave my hand lazily, pondering before I answer to draw out his fear. There's an aspect of me that feels bad, but it gives me a good impression to Laughing Coffin to have someone afraid.

"I'd like some whiskey," I drawl, making note of the fear shining in his eyes at the word. "But I'm not sure what type to have."

"Well, Sir," he stutters, "We have many whiskeys here such as-"

I raise my hand to cut him off. The bartender stares as if he's only just realised the thin girls hand that holds his tongue. Then I lean closer, enough so he can make out my eyes in the shadow of my hood and whisper.

"I would like some Death's Kiss whiskey."

"Y-yes," He dips his head in aknowledgement. "Please follow me this way."

He steps out from behind the safety of the bar, leading me past the little hatched with towering stacks of glasses placed on the lip and into the washroom. Despite the many glasses and the noise of the many customers outside, there is only one person in the room.

She leans over a large sink, almost as big enough to function as a bath, her arms covered in soap suds. I monitor her figure and note the shade of her pulled back blonde hair. What I'm really looking for is the logo of a smiling coffin on her wrist, but her hands are always under the water.

A sense of doubt lingers as we pass her. Why would they have a door to a cellar containing alcohol, let alone whatever this precious 'death's kiss' whiskey is, next to a lowly dishwasher?

I almost hesitate when the bartender becons me down into a narrow passageway and only reminding myself this is not a place one should show fear makes me complete my step. Still, I keep my hand anchored to my sword even if I know the passage is too narrow to draw the blade.