4 - Noble Son, Pick a Fight

Airi Kakitsubata was 17 years old, and attending a clothing design trade school. She wanted to be an apparel designer when she grew up.

“What did you say?” Iris asked in displeasure. All the joy she had felt at seeing the accessories she made sell had now passed.

Had he just said, “I like your face”? Was this some kind of new pick-up line? With the decline of crossplaying brought about by VRMMOs, you naturally saw a lot more of that. The appearance you crafted for yourself in a VRMMO had become vastly more important than avatar settings had been in any online community prior.

A handsome man with the kind of blond hair and blue eyes you never saw in the real world was whispering those sweet words in her ear. Even someone as guarded as Iris would find herself swayed by that. You didn’t see as many women hitting on men, but there were cross-players out there. Iris had heard of quite a few young men who had ended up traumatized by come-ons from someone who had turned out to be the wrong gender entirely. Ah, but enough digressions.

What mattered was that the Dragonet standing in front of her now was an extremely handsome man. It was only natural for Iris to mistake it for a pick-up line.

“I was asking if you’d like to make armor for me,” he said.

“Before that.”

“Ah, that I like your face? If that bothered you, I apologize. It’s true that objectively speaking, mine is more attractive...”

What was he talking about?

“Do you always choose who you want to make armor based on what they look like?” Iris demanded.

“In the real world? No. In this world? Yes. You made your face yourself, didn’t you?”

She was stunned. He was absolutely right.

When she had originally made her character, she hadn’t felt any special inspiration from the countless avatar parts provided. She’d stewed over it for hours and hours, trying out different combinations, but each time something had bothered her about it. After stewing over it for a long time, she had bought some virtual cash from a convenience store in the middle of the night, downloaded some 3D modeling software, and gone right for the character maker.

It wasn’t completely her own design, but she had modified the parts she didn’t like, and fine-tuned a few details in ways that other players wouldn’t be able to. It had resulted in a unique character face that no one else in the world could imitate. Iris was very proud of it, but this was the first time anyone had ever pointed it out.

The man selected several items from his menu window and brought them out. They were the original accessories that Iris had designed.

“Those are...” she began.

“You designed these personally too, didn’t you? Of course, I was a bit worried due to the sloppy renderings on the polygons, but...”

“Th-That’s just... because I was tired after coming home from school! My face is perfect, right?” What was she saying?

“Yes, seeing your face, I feel much more at ease. I want armor designed from square one. I haven’t found anyone here in Glasgobara making such things.”

So this was the man who had bought all of her accessories? While part of her was honestly happy about that, her feelings were still ambivalent. She was happy to see her originality appreciated, but he didn’t seem to care much for the designs themselves. Caught between the two, though, the happy side won out, if only slightly.

The offer from this man — Ichiro Tsuwabuki — was extremely appealing. The proposal of creating an original armor design was slowly revitalizing her waning interest in the game. But...

“My ‘Create Armor’ skill level isn’t very high,” she admitted.

There were quite a number of crafting class Skills. At first, the only ones available were Refining, Ironmaking, and Craft. But once a player’s Ironworking level reached a certain point, they could acquire Create Armor and Create Weapon, as well. She herself had a dream of creating armor someday, so she had bought the Skill itself. Unfortunately, she hadn’t managed to level it up very high just yet. She didn’t know what level armor the man was going to want, but if he was elite enough to be ordering custom-made items, any request by him would probably be too high for her to handle.

If she’d known this was going to happen, she would have gone out of her way to do more grinding.

Regret squirmed inside of her. Even if she started now, she probably wouldn’t make it in time.

And yet, the man’s response was this: “Regardless, you are the only person I can count on.”

He continued, “I don’t know much about the production process of armor, so I don’t know if it’s possible. But I don’t mind paying any of the real money required to create the original design.”

“Well... I don’t think you can do that unless we create a Crafting guild...” She was starting to feel like the conversation was moving on without her.

“Then let’s make a guild,” he said.

“Y-You can’t be serious...”

“Nonsense. I’m always serious. Well, I can’t deny that the things I say often make others believe me mad...”

If the requester was going to offer to pay real money for her armor crafting, Iris wasn’t going to deny him. In fact, if the reverse had happened, if he’d said, “I’ll pay you in galt, but you provide the real funds,” she would have socked him one.

The problem was that Iris’s Create Armor level was extremely low, and the man didn’t seem to understand what that meant. When you tried to create armor and failed, you didn’t just waste the components.

When Iris made her accessories, at least, she first had to put the components on top of a magic circle, then select the design from a pop-up window. Then in her case, she had to drag and drop the .obj file of the 3D model she had made to convert the accessory into a totally original design.

This was the point when the real money fee for optimizing the 3D model came in. In other words, every time she failed to make the armor, that fee would also go to waste. She had to admit it was an extremely unkind setup, but then, creating items wasn’t the main point of the game, and it did force you to click through a warning message of “If you fail to make the armor, you won’t get your money back” three times in a row. Iris didn’t bother to question it at this point.

Applying the design cost money because that was the source of the greatest burden on the server’s data bus. Succeed or fail, the burden was the same. But of course, Iris didn’t know that.

Anyway, that was how one applied an original design. She had never tried an original armor design before, but the process was likely the same.

If Ichiro was going to take on the burden of cost, then he had to know that he would have to keep paying every time Iris failed at the creation. While he appeared to be a whale, he was surely underestimating how many times that might happen. If he could at least give her an upper limit...

“Do you have an upper limit?” she asked.

“Ah, my bank has asked me not to reveal my credit limit,” he said. “But it’s not any amount you have to worry about.”

“I didn’t mean your credit limit! Are you trying to go bankrupt?!” she exclaimed.

“Ha ha ha, nonsense. My, what an amusing joke. If I ever went bankrupt, it would mean the world economy was in ruins.” He really did appear to be mad.

“Oh, darn it... Don’t blame me if it costs a ton, then,” she said.

“Nonsense. I don’t mind spending money for a quality product.”

Iris opened up the menu window and called up the art tools from the Config window. The game’s basic software allowed you to draw simple designs in pencil or chalk, but the add-on allowed for more precise lines, as well as the ability to convert designs to .pdfs and send them to a PC or a smartphone. It was compatible with 3D modeling software, and it was extremely convenient for converting a design to 3D, but on the whole, it was more popular with Achievers and Explorers than Crafters.

“So, what kind of design do you want?” she asked him.

“Let me see. Something to match the brooch,” the man said, pulling out the blue butterfly brooch that Iris had made. The polys really were rough, and it was fairly embarrassing to look at.

“Th-That... was for a woman, actually...” she stammered.

“Oh? It seemed unisex to me. Depending on the rest of the outfit, it could look quite fetching on a man, don’t you think?”

It was true that the main reason she had meant it for a woman was because women’s equipment in the game tended to be more for fashion than for combat. Most men’s equipment was made with an eye towards looking cool in battle, with the most stylish being heavy medieval fantasy armor and superhero-style designs. The butterfly brooch wouldn’t look good on any of them, which meant this man wanted something closer to modern-day apparel.

It was tickling her creative urges. She sat down next to her booth with pencil in hand, and used the drawing software to detail her ideas on the canvas. She cast a glance at the man, and saw that he had opened the same drawing software. Now that she thought about it, his face was also composed of parts she’d never seen before in the game... She doubted he was in the same business as her exactly, but perhaps he was in a fine arts field, at least.

“Oh, I decided to buy this program after seeing yours,” he offered.

Did money simply mean nothing to him?

With practiced movements, the man drew what looked like a design sheet, and swiped it to Iris’s window. “That’s what I wear around in real life. Of course, I’ll give you free rein with the design, but this is the sort of clothing I like.”

The image he’d sent her was on the line between casual and formal, fashionable without losing its high-class appeal. If that’s what he wore every day, was he some kind of rich heir?

“Oh, sorry,” the man said, suddenly looking up. “I have an appointment. I have to log out for now.”

“Ah, I see,” she said. “Will you log in again when you’re done?”

“I don’t know. I’d like to, if I have time, but I have a great deal to take care of lately.”

“W-Well... could I friend you, then?” Why had she stammered when she’d said that? This might have been her first male friend in the game.

“Certainly,” he said offhandedly, then pressed the friend request confirmation button.

It had been a long time since Iris had spoken to the friends she had started playing the game with. They had supported her decision to live in Glasgobara as a crafter. But by now, they were probably off somewhere making progress through the game. She began to feel a bit sentimental as she wondered where they were.

“By the way, what should I call you?” she asked.

“Whatever you like. Tsuwabuki, Ichiro, or young heir, if you wish. Well, I don’t especially like being called the last one...”

“Young heir, then,” she said. It seemed exactly the right thing to call him, given his snobbish air. Besides, Iris was a fan of that famous Japanese major leaguer, so she didn’t want to call him Ichiro.

The young heir didn’t look especially unhappy, but simply shrugged his shoulders and logged out. When he was gone, Iris turned back to her drawing tool.

She was going to design his armor.

After a few minutes alone with her own thoughts, that reality finally began to hit her.

Her dream was to be an apparel designer; if possible, with a focus on fashion. She knew it would be a rough road ahead, and part of her wondered if she couldn’t afford to be taking time out by playing this game.

But...

What she was allowing herself to do now was surely not in vain. Even if it was just in a fictional realm made of 1s and 0s, she was taking her first steps as an apparel designer right now.

Out of everything around her, that feeling was the one thing that wasn’t an illusion caused by electrical signals to her brain.

◆　◆　◆

“That reminds me,” Iris said, stopping in the middle of her story. “What was it you had to do back then?”

“Nothing of particular note,” Ichiro said. “The president of Tsunobeni asked me for some investment advice, that’s all.”

“Is that a joke?” she demanded.

“Nonsense. If I wanted to joke, I would say something outrageous.”

Was he claiming that his boasting wasn’t outrageous? Iris felt exhausted, but judging by the unconcerned expressions of Kirschwasser and Felicia, who knew him in real life, apparently this was standard fare.

Iris wasn’t very familiar with Tsunobeni, Inc. itself, but she knew that the president’s daughter, Megumi Fuyo, had founded her own fashion brand, and that she was one of the fashion designers Airi Kakitsubata respected the most. But now was not the time to bring that up.

“But Iris, were you selling accessories the entire time before you met Itchy?” Felicia asked.

“Yeah,” Iris responded. “I really wanted to design armor too, but Craft was the only skill I had really focused on grinding, and the only items you can make with that are accessories and such.”

She hadn’t had much knowledge of the game at the start, so she had worked on increasing the wrong skill. Accessories were a lot less useful than weapons and armor, so no one was going to start buying them just because they had slightly original designs.

That was the reason she had become so disheartened after retreating from the real world into the game, and still found herself unable to sell anything. That was why she had been so grateful for the young heir, who had appeared just then with appreciation for what she was doing. Even if he was a thoughtless, arrogant pig...

“...It’s a point that’s been raising the ire of users somewhat,” Edward suddenly interrupted the conversation, and all eyes turned towards him. “There’s a service fee for converting original graphics into items. But the system isn’t set up for the requester to be able to pay that fee for the maker. RMT is prohibited in NaroFan, so the maker pays everything, and ends up on the losing side.”

“Mr. Kirsch, what is RMT?” Felicia asked.

“Real money trade,” Sir Kirschwasser, a walking encyclopedia of online game slang, answered immediately. “A system where you can sell in-game currency and items for real money.”

“Well, there were quite a few players who adapted original designs onto armor and put them out in their booths, like Iris did,” Kirsch added to Edward’s statement. “At the start, anyway. But while they did sell, they were mostly bought by players who were never heard from again. Which meant the makers were spending 800 yen of real money to make something that a nobody player just walked off with. And in most cases, they probably didn’t recover its durability, and just let it break. So eventually, the designers realized that making original armor designs was a fool’s game.”

“Ah, I think I understand,” said Iris. “I never sold anything, so I never even thought of that...”

In that sense, maybe she had been right to make accessories, which didn’t have durability and thus rarely broke. Of course, since nobody had bought them, the point was moot...

“So, was the finished design all that great?” Felicia asked.

“Perhaps not from an objective point of view, but I quite liked it,” Ichiro said.

It sounded like it was meant as a compliment, so Iris opted not to object.

Ichiro’s fixation on the word “objectively” seemed to come from his refusal to be swayed by the viewpoints of the masses. At least, that was what Kirschwasser had told her.

Sometimes his own opinions lined up with the objective perspective, and sometimes they didn’t. The point was that Ichiro didn’t lie when it came to things like this. If he said he liked it, then he did.

“Hmm...” Felicia studied the clothing Ichiro was wearing.

Iris was proud of it, but she still felt embarrassed seeing it scrutinized like this.

At last, Felicia murmured under her breath, “Lucky...”

Just that one word. It took a great deal of effort for Iris not to smile.

Ah, but that was just a sign that she was too frivolous. Taking it as proof that she needed further resolve, Iris steeled her nerve once more. She had to get to the point where, when she received a compliment, she could just run a hand through her hair and say, “But of course!”

It was foolish of her to act cocky just because the young heir liked them. In that respect, having Felicia’s approval represented a big step forward.

As for how she had felt when the young heir had praised her...

Iris wanted to drive it out of her mind, but the memories came back in a rush.

◆　◆　◆

Airi Kakitsubata giggled madly to herself. She was 17 years old, and attending a clothing design trade school.

She wanted to be an apparel designer when she grew up. But why was she looking so pale?

The school that she attended brought together prospective fashion designers, so naturally, the standards of style there were generally high. Airi was no exception to this rule. The talent that had drawn her peers to declare her a fashion leader in middle school hadn’t changed at all since she’d become a second-year at her home economics specialty school. Of course, there were girls in her class more flashy than her, but in addition to her better-than-average fashion sense, she was quite attractive herself. What’s more, her self-confidence in this respect only served to make her even more so.

But for some reason, today, she had lost some of her luster. Her skin was looking rough, there were bags under her eyes, and her hair was styled sloppily. On top of that, the smug little smile on her face led her to look a bit like a possessed demon, and she had a tendency to mouth off in ways that caused the adults around her to flinch.

Of course, she was only 17. Her desire to be acknowledged by someone was exceptionally strong, and being at a trade school where she could shoot for her dream just made her more so. Even if it was just in a fictional world, the young heir had given her a place to shine.

He had selected one of the accessories she had made, told her to make a design that went well with it, then logged out. They had only spoken for about 30 minutes. Not long at all. Afterwards, Airi, a.k.a. Iris, had thought hard about his personal taste.

Despite all her big talk, everything she had done so far — from giving fashion advice to friends, to looking into brands, to daydreaming designs — had been for women’s fashion. She had surprisingly little knowledge about men’s fashion. Therefore, even though it was late at night, she called her homeroom teacher to ask a few questions.

Her teacher had certainly been surprised, but had seemed to be able to tell from the way Airi pressed the point that she was passionate about the subject, and so the teacher had answered her questions exhaustively.

Alfred Dunhill, Giorgio Armani, Prada... Well, Airi couldn’t deny that the teacher’s own tastes were mixed in there somewhat, but it was still a useful reference.

One night later...

Inside the fictional world and unaware of the color entering the sky outside her window, Airi sent her finalized design to the one male player on her friends list, then proceeded to sleep like a log for the few hours remaining before school began.

That she could enjoy the game not through battle or dungeon exploration, but through her biggest strength in the real world... that was the thing that made her happiest.

That morning, she found an email in her inbox.

“I’m glad I asked you.”