Lain sat within the endless digital expanse of the Wired, her presence an ethereal hum in the vast sea of information. Floating windows flickered around her—files upon files, archives stretching back decades, some she had created, others that had simply appeared over time. The passage of years had become meaningless to her, a concept discarded like an obsolete program. And yet, as she scrolled through countless fragments of memories, she found herself pausing.
Her translucent fingers hovered over a particular file—a snapshot of the real world, an echo of the place she once called home. The streets, the people, the cityscape, all recorded and categorized, yet distant. When was the last time she had truly been there? Had it been months? Years?
A flicker of curiosity stirred within her. It wasn’t just data or observation. It was longing.
Lain’s gaze lingered on the file for a moment longer. Then, with a deliberate motion, she selected it.
The Wired rippled.
---
She stood at the bridge, the same one where she had last spoken with Arisu. The air was crisp, the quiet hum of the city settling over her like a forgotten melody. She ran her fingers along the railing, feeling the cold steel beneath her touch. It hadn’t changed much. The road below, the distant hum of traffic—it was all familiar, yet distant, like a memory that refused to fade.
The skyline had grown, buildings rising higher than before.Time had moved forward, even if she hadn’t.
Lain exhaled, though she had no need to.
"Has it really been that long?"
For the first time in years, she felt small.
She walked down the bridge and into the city streets, her steps light, almost hesitant. The world had changed, yet it still felt strangely familiar.The people around her moved with purpose, their eyes fixed on the sleek, modernized devices they held in their hands—advanced versions of the old NAVI she had once used in school.
Despite the crowd, no one noticed her. She is a ghost, walking among them.
Lain hadn't truly explored the real world the last time she was here. She had only met Alice before retreating back into the Wired. But now, with each step, she felt something unfamiliar. A quiet curiosity.
"Maybe I should stay a little longer this time."
She found herself thinking about Mika—her older sister. It had been so long since she last considered her, so long since she had even thought about what happened to her after everything had "reset."
Back then, they had always been distant. Mika was the older, more outgoing one, absorbed in her own world, while Lain had been quiet, withdrawn—even before everything changed. She had never tried to reach out, not when things were normal, not when their family still existed in the way it once had.
Now, standing here in a world that had moved on without her, she felt a small twinge of guilt.Had she been okay after Lain disappeared from everyone's memory?
"I need to see how she’s doing."
Should she go to their old school or their house?
The school had probably changed by now.The buildings might be different, the students and teachers entirely new. Would it even feel familiar anymore?
Wait…
Mika must have already graduated years ago! She isn't a high school student anymore,she is an adult now.
Lain sighed and facepalmed, feeling an odd mix of embarrassment and amusement at her own mistake.
"Stupid." she muttered to herself. After all this time in the Wired, had she really lost her sense of how life moved forward?
That settled it. The school wasn’t the place to go. If she wanted to find Mika, she needed to check their old house first.
With that decision made, Lain turned and started walking.
---
Her footsteps slowed as she caught sight of a familiar figure.
A woman, dressed in a stylish yet casual outfit, walked toward a nail salon. Her hair, the way she carried herself—it was unmistakable. Mika.
Lain hesitated, her mind trying to catch up with what she was seeing. Mika looked… older, of course. More refined. She carried an air of confidence, a presence that felt both foreign and familiar at once.
Her fingers twitched slightly, a faint trace of static brushing against her skin.She took a careful step closer.
And that’s when she saw them—two more women standing near Mika, chatting casually as they followed her into the salon. Lain’s eyes widened slightly.
Juri. Reika.
It had been so long, but she recognized them instantly. Her former classmates, girls who once sat beside her in school, who laughed and talked about things Lain never quite understood.
She swallowed, unsure how to process this. They looked happy, completely unaware of the presence watching them from a distance. They had moved on, continued their lives in ways she had never considered before.
---
Inside the softly lit nail salon, the scent of polish and faint music filled the air. Juri and Reika sat comfortably, chatting as they waited for their appointments.
Juri tapped her nails on the table, glancing at the entrance.
"You're late today, boss. What happened? That’s not like you."
Reika smirked, crossing her arms.
"Yeah, usually you're the first one here, ordering us around. Something happen?"
Mika let out an exasperated sigh as she settled into a chair.
"I had to cook breakfast for my old man and old lady. Then I had to clean up, deal with some other stuff... You know how it is."
She waved a hand dismissively, as if brushing off the effort it took.
Juri raised an eyebrow.
"Huh. Never took you for the type to play housekeeper."
Reika leaned forward with a teasing grin.
"Since we got here before you, shouldn’t you boost our wages this week? Fair’s fair, right?"
Mika scoffed, rolling her eyes.
"Keep dreaming. If anything, I should lower your wages for talking back."
Juri groaned dramatically.
"Tch, and here I thought we had a good boss."
Reika groaned, leaning back in her chair with an exaggerated sigh. "Ugh, this sucks. Our salon barely gets any customers. I swear, the highest count we’ve ever had in a week is, like, 15 people. And that was probably because of that one influencer who accidentally tagged us in her post."
Juri nodded, resting her chin in her hand. "Yeah, and half of those people only came in to ask where the nearest café was."
Reika threw her hands up.
"Exactly! At this rate, we should just start selling coffee instead of doing nails."
Mika, who had been scrolling through her phone, let out a sharp sigh.
"Or maybe if you two talked less and worked more, people would actually come."
Juri snorted.
"Yeah, right. Like ‘working more’ is gonna magically make our skills better."
Mika crossed her arms.
"Well, your skills are still at an amateur level. I mean, let’s be real—Reika, your French tips look like they were painted by a five-year-old using a marker."
Reika gasped, clutching her chest dramatically.
"How dare you?! My French tips have character! They’re avant-garde!"
Mika deadpanned.
"Avant-garde? They look like abstract art, and not the good kind."
Juri smirked.
"Yeah, Reika, remember that one lady who asked for a classic nude color, and you somehow made it look like wet cement?"
Reika huffed.
"That was one time! And in my defense, she didn’t specify what kind of nude!"
Mika shook her head.
"And Juri, let’s not act like you’re any better. The last time you tried doing acrylics, the client walked out with nails so thick they looked like claws."
Juri groaned.
"I followed a tutorial!"
Reika laughed, nudging Juri.
"Hey, at least we’re not as bad as that one salon across town. You know, the one where the lady superglued the nails onto a client’s cuticles?"
Juri shuddered.
"Oof. Yeah, okay, we’re bad, but at least we’re not lawsuit-level bad."
Mika leaned back, crossing her arms.
"Well, if you two don’t want to end up in the same boat, maybe practice instead of whining."
Mika made herself a cold cup of water, the ice clinking softly against the glass. She took a slow sip, enjoying the brief moment of peace—
Until Juri ruined it.
"Hey,boss, real talk… you got a boyfriend yet?"
Mika nearly choked on her water. She lowered the glass with an irritated sigh, already feeling a headache forming.
"Not this again."
Juri smirked.
"What? Just curious. I mean, you’re almost fifty, and you still don’t have a husband. Kinda impressive, honestly."
Reika grinned, jumping in.
"Yeah, it’s like you’re trying to break a record or something!"
Mika shot them both a flat glare.
"You two are so annoying."
Juri shrugged.
"Hey, don’t blame us. We’re just saying what everyone else is thinking. You get asked this all the time, right?"
Mika groaned, rubbing her temples.
"Unfortunately...Seriously, it’s like people can’t process the idea of a woman not being married by this age. Every time I meet some distant relative or old friend, they hit me with the same damn questions—‘When are you getting married, Mika?’ ‘Why don’t you have a husband yet, Mika?’ ‘Are you secretly dating a rich old man, Mika?’"
Reika snorted. "Okay, the last one’s kinda funny."
Mika rolled her eyes. "It’s not funny. People just assume something’s wrong with me because I’m single. But you know what? I’ll tell you what’s actually wrong—" She dramatically gestured with her cup.
"Men these days are picky as hell when it comes to attractive women. Either they’re intimidated or they have some ridiculous standards. I’m not gonna waste my time on that nonsense."
Juri leaned in, grinning.
"So you do think you’re attractive?"
Mika gave her a deadpan look.
"Obviously. What, you think I don’t own a mirror?"
Reika chuckled.
"See? That’s exactly why you should have a boyfriend by now! You’re still super attractive. Honestly, if you wanted to, you could probably snag someone younger than us."
Mika scoffed.
"Oh, please. I’m way too old to be dating. Who wants to deal with all that drama at my age?"
Reika pouted.
"That’s such a dumb excuse! Just because we’re married and have our own families doesn’t mean you can’t have someone too."
Juri nodded.
"Yeah, it’s kinda weird seeing you so… alone all the time. Like, do you even go out on dates? Ever?"
Mika sipped her water dramatically before answering.
"Does ordering takeout and flirting with the delivery guy for an extra sauce count?"
Reika facepalmed.
"Boss,no."
Mika put her cup down with a clink, crossing her arms.
"Anyways, I’m not planning to have a bun growing inside me anytime soon. Or ever, for that matter."
Juri raised an eyebrow.
"Oh? So it’s not just dating you’re avoiding, it’s the whole family package?"
Mika scoffed.
"Damn right. The thought of raising a baby? No thanks. They’re annoying, loud, and demand way too much attention. I don’t even like when people text me too much—why would I want something screaming at me 24/7?"
Reika gasped, dramatically clutching her chest.
"Boss! How could you say that?! Babies are adorable!"
Mika gave her a deadpan look.
"They’re tiny, needy gremlins. What’s adorable about that?"
Juri snorted.
"So basically, you’re saying you wouldn’t even date a guy if he wanted kids?"
Mika shrugged.
"Nope. If some guy comes up to me saying he wants to start a family, I’m running in the opposite direction."
The three of them kept chatting, with Mika rolling her eyes at every comment about relationships and babies. Just as she was about to steer the conversation back to something actually important, the salon door swung open with a soft chime.
All three women instinctively looked up, expecting to see another female client.
But instead… it's a guy.
And not just any guy.
Mika’s face soured immediately.
"Not you again..."
Meanwhile, Juri and Reika froze for a second before their eyes widened in disbelief. They exchanged quick glances, their mouths slightly open. Then, as if someone had flipped a switch, they both exploded into excitement.
"Oh my GOD—it's HIM!" Reika practically shrieked.
"No freakin’ way—Taro?!" Juri gasped, bolting up from her chair.
The man standing before them flashed a casual yet undeniably charming smile.
"That would be me."
Taro—the infamous streamer.
Handsome, effortlessly cool, and ridiculously popular, he was practically an online celebrity. His gaming streams drew in thousands of viewers every night, and his perfectly sculpted face made him a fan favorite across social media. Whether people loved him for his skill, his humor, or just his overall good looks, he had cemented himself as one of the internet’s most adored figures.
Reika and Juri were already rushing toward him, practically bouncing on their feet.
"I love your streams! You’re even hotter in person!" Reika gushed.
"You’re insane at FPS games—how do you even aim that fast?!" Juri added, practically vibrating with excitement.
Reika and Juri circled Taro like a pair of excited schoolgirls, eyes practically sparkling.
"You look so young!" Reika gushed.
"It’s like you’re still in your twenties!"
"Right?! No way you’re in your thirties! What’s your secret? Are you drinking some kind of anti-aging elixir?"
Juri added, nudging his arm.
Taro chuckled smoothly, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair.
"Nah, just good genes and a stress-free life."
"Ugh, I knew being rich and famous kept you young," Reika sighed dramatically.
"Alright, ladies," Taro said gently, raising a hand.
"If you could step aside for a sec…"
Juri and Reika blinked, confused, but they moved aside as Taro walked forward—straight toward Mika.
Mika tensed immediately, her fingers tightening around her now-empty water cup. She already knew what was coming.
Taro stopped just in front of her, his charming grin unwavering.
"Miss Mika." he said smoothly.
"I’ve come here to once again ask you out on a date."
Juri and Reika gasped.
"Wait, WHAT?!" Reika clapped a hand over her mouth.
"Taro, you’ve been hitting on our boss this whole time?! And she never told us?!" Juri looked personally betrayed.
Mika groaned, rubbing her forehead.
"Because it’s not a big deal. And because I reject him every single time."
Taro didn’t look discouraged in the slightest.
"And yet, here I am again."
Mika crossed her arms.
"And i’m going to say no again."
"Aw, come on." Taro tilted his head, his signature confident smirk still in place.
"Why not give it a shot? You can’t keep rejecting me forever."
Mika scoffed.
"Watch me."
Reika was practically vibrating at this point.
"Hold on, hold on—boss, why the hell are you rejecting Taro?! Do you see this man? Do you know how many women would kill to be in your position right now?!"
Juri nodded aggressively.
"Seriously, Mika, what’s your excuse?!"
Mika shot them both a glare before sighing.
"It’s the age gap, obviously. I’m too old for this...kid."
Taro chuckled, unfazed.
"You’re acting like you’re ancient. It’s really not that big of a gap."
"Yes, it it!" Mika shot back.
"You could be my damn son if outsiders look at us!."
"And yet, here I am not being your son," Taro teased.
"I don’t see the issue."
Taro leaned against the counter, looking at Mika with that same confident smirk that made her want to throw her empty cup at his head.
"Look,miss Mika," he started, voice smooth as ever.
"I’ve already planned out our future together. Trust me, it’s perfect."
Mika groaned.
"Oh?"
Juri and Reika, meanwhile, were hanging onto his every word.
Taro straightened up, looking completely serious.
"I make the money, you stay home and relax. Simple."
Mika blinked.
"...Excuse me?"
"Think about it," Taro continued smoothly.
"You’ll never have to work another day in your life. No more dealing with annoying customers, no more long shifts—just pure relaxation while I bring home the cash. You can sleep in, go shopping, take up a hobby… whatever you want."
Juri and Reika gasped.
Mika rubbed her temples.
"And why, exactly, would you do all this for me?"
Taro’s smirk softened into something a little more genuine.
"Because I’m in love with you, obviously."
Silence.
Reika and Juri gasped even harder.
Mika just stared at him,cringing.
"You what."
Taro chuckled.
"I’ve been in love with you since the day we met. You’re exactly my type."
Mika could feel her soul leaving her body.
"What part of me is your type?! The constant sarcasm? The eye bags? The fact that I look done with life 24/7?"
Taro shrugged. "All of it. It’s hot."
Mika sighed, rubbing her temples as if that would somehow make this whole situation disappear.
"Taro, seriously. How long are you gonna keep this up? I’m almost 50." She folded her arms, giving him a skeptical look.
"Are you really telling me your type is older women like me?"
Taro grinned, completely unfazed.
"Pretty much."
Mika stared at him like he had just confessed to being an alien.
"You say that with zero shame..."
Juri, meanwhile, leaned in close and whispered,
"Boss… maybe he just likes tall women."
Mika shot her a glare.
"What does that have to do with anything?"
Juri just smirked.
"You’re, like, really tall. Maybe that’s his thing. Tall, intimidating, older women who could probably kill him if they wanted to."
Reika snickered.
"Honestly? Mood."
Taro, still grinning, leaned on the counter.
"See? Even your friends are starting to realize the truth. Face it,miss Mika, you’re exactly my type."
As Mika stood there, already regretting every second of this conversation, Taro suddenly dropped to one knee.
"Miss Mika, please!" he pleaded, looking up at her with those annoyingly handsome eyes.
"Just one date! Give me a chance!"
Juri and Reika screamed.
"OH MY GOD, HE'S KNEELING!" Juri clutched Reika’s arm.
"LIKE A PRINCE IN A DRAMA MOVIE!" Reika shouted.
Mika, on the other hand, had absolutely had it.
With zero hesitation, she reached down, grabbed a fistful of Taro’s perfectly styled hair, and yanked him up.
"GET UP." she growled through gritted teeth.
Taro yelped, scrambling to his feet as Mika began forcefully walking him toward the door.
"Ow, ow, ow—Mika, wait—"
She kept dragging him, completely unfazed by his struggles.
"Come on, at least think about—"
"No."
"What if I—"
"OUT."
With one final shove, she pushed him outside and slammed the door.
Taro stumbled back but quickly straightened himself, adjusting his clothes with a dramatic scoff.
"Fine! But I’m not giving up! I’ll be back,miss Mika! Next time, I’ll make you say yes!" he declared, pointing at the door before storming off.
Inside, Juri and Reika just stared at Mika, completely in shock.
Finally, Juri broke the silence.
"Boss...you just-"
Mika groaned and grabbed the nearest towel, throwing it over her head.
"Shut up."
---
Lain stood at a distance, watching the chaotic scene unfold with a blank expression. Out of all the things she expected to see after returning to the real world, this was definitely not on the list.
Taro. A streamer.
Her sister. A nail salon owner.
Lain wasn’t sure which part was more surprising.
Her grumpy older sister running a struggling nail salon and dealing with an annoyingly persistent suitor.
But then her mind wandered back to Taro.
To him flirting.
To him kneeling.
To him dramatically declaring his love to Mika.
And then—
The memory hit her like a truck.
Taro. Kissing her.
Lain’s entire body locked up.A shudder ran through her as pure, undiluted cringe took over her soul.
Her fingers twitched as she visibly recoiled, shaking her head to get rid of the memory.
"To think i actually let that happen once."
She hugged herself, feeling a cold shiver of secondhand embarrassment crawl down her spine.
She stood there for a moment, quietly debating whether she should step inside the salon.
Would Mika even recognize her?
Her eyes drifted back toward the window, where she could see Mika groaning into a towel while Juri and Reika laughed about something.
Maybe not..
Her sister is okay. She had a normal, stable life. Even Juri and Reika, her former classmates, were doing fine. They had jobs, responsibilities, and a future they were working toward.
That was enough.
She didn’t need to interfere.
With a small, almost imperceptible smile, Lain turned away from the salon and continued walking down the street.
Maybe she’d visit again someday.
But for now… just knowing that they were happy was enough.
---
She made her way toward her hometown, her pace slow and deliberate. She could easily teleport to her home address if she wanted.
But she didn’t want to.
She wanted to take the train.
She wanted to hear the hum of the city, the murmur of strangers talking, the rhythmic chime of station announcements. She wanted to feel something real, something she hadn’t felt in years.
As she reached the station, she stood by the ticket machine for a moment, staring at it. The interface was more modern than she remembered, sleek and digital, but the process was still the same.
She bought a ticket, the printed slip warm in her hand.
She stepped onto the platform, waiting as the train approached, its headlights cutting through the evening air. The doors slid open with a familiar chime.
Taking a deep breath, Lain stepped inside.
The train hadn't changed much. The seats were different, reupholstered in a fresh color, and the ads lining the upper panels were sleeker, digital now. But the feeling—the quiet hum of movement, the soft sway as it glided along the tracks—was exactly the same.
She took a seat near the window, resting her hands in her lap as the train began to move. The city lights blurred past, streaks of neon and concrete blending together in the evening glow.
For a brief moment, she closed her eyes, letting herself sink into the rhythm of it all.
This… felt familiar.
Then—she felt someone sit down next to her.
She turned slightly, and the moment her eyes landed on the woman beside her, a sharp gasp escaped her lips before she could stop it.
Alice.
Her hair was a little different—styled more maturely—but her face was unmistakable. She still had that warm presence, that gentle aura that made Lain feel real.
Alice blinked at her sudden reaction, glancing at Lain with mild curiosity. Then, slowly, her brows furrowed as recognition sparked in her eyes.
"Wait…Are you that-?" Alice tilted her head, studying her.
"You’re that girl I met on the bridge years ago!"
Lain felt her heart race.
Alice remembered.
But then, Alice’s expression shifted to one of mild embarrassment.
"Ah… sorry, I, um…I can’t seem to remember your name…"
Lain took a slow breath, calming herself.
Then, she looked at Alice and said softly.
"It’s me. Lain."
Alice stared at Lain, her eyes widening in shock.
"Lain?" she leaned in slightly, as if getting a closer look would somehow make sense of what she was seeing.
"You… you look exactly the same."
Lain blinked, tilting her head.
"Huh?"
"I mean it!" Alice gestured at her, baffled.
"It’s been years! But you… you haven’t changed at all! Not a single wrinkle, not even a hint of aging! It’s like—like you just stepped out of the past!"
Lain let out a small, awkward chuckle, waving a dismissive hand.
"Good genes."
Alice gave her a look.
"Lain."
Lain kept her expression neutral.
"Hmm?"
"That’s not how genes work."
"Sure it is."
Alice crossed her arms.
"No. It’s not."
Lain sighed dramatically.
"Then...Great genes."
Alice huffed, clearly not buying it.
"That is not an answer, Lain."
Lain just smiled slightly, enjoying how easily Alice fell back into their old dynamic.
"So, where are you heading?"
Alice sighed, running a hand through her hair.
"I’m on my way to work. I have a class to teach soon."
Lain nodded, already knowing about Alice’s job. She had looked into her life before. She knew Alice had become a teacher, dedicating her time to helping kids. It suited her.
Still, Lain played along, tilting her head slightly.
"Teaching, huh?"
Alice smiled, a bit of pride slipping into her voice.
"Yeah. I teach literature at a middle school. It’s tough sometimes, but I love it. The kids can be a handful, but they remind me why I chose this path."
Lain hummed in acknowledgment.
"Sounds fulfilling."
"It is," Alice said, then glanced at Lain curiously.
"What about you? What have you been up to all these years?"
Lain paused for a brief second.
What had she been doing?
Living in the Wired. Watching from a distance. Existing in a space between presence and absence.
"I work as a computer programmer."
Alice blinked.
"Really?"
Lain nodded.
"Yeah. Mostly freelance. I handle a lot of backend systems, security stuff, debugging…you know, the usual."
Alice looked genuinely impressed.
"Wow, that actually sounds pretty cool. So you’re one of those people who can make a computer do whatever they want?"
Lain smile slightly.
"Something like that."
Alice laughed.
"I could’ve used someone like you when I was in college. My laptop used to crash all the time, and I had no idea how to fix it."
Lain tilted her head.
"Did you try turning it off and on again?"
Alice groaned.
"Ugh, don’t even start with that. I swear every guy told me the same thing."
Lain chuckled softly.
"That’s because it works."
Alice playfully rolled her eyes.
"Alright, hacker girl, I’ll take your word for it." She then leaned back in her seat, watching the city lights blur past.
"Still, it's nice running into you again. I don’t remember much from back then, but… I feel like you were someone important."
Lain’s fingers twitched slightly, but she kept her expression calm.
"Maybe," she said, her voice quiet. "Or maybe it’s just good to see an old friend."
Alice smiled.
"Yeah.."
Alice then pulled out her phone, scrolling through something, Lain’s eyes flickered toward the screen.
And then she saw it.
A photo—Alice standing beside a man, her husband, smiling warmly at the camera. Beside them were two kids, a boy and a girl, both with bright eyes and playful grins.
Lain felt something unfamiliar stir inside her.
Alice… had a family.
Of course, it made sense. Years had passed. Alice had moved on, built a life, surrounded herself with people who loved her. It was natural. Expected.
But Lain hadn’t expected the small pang in her chest.
Alice, still unaware of Lain’s gaze, tapped on the screen and sighed.
"Ugh, my husband keeps sending me pictures of the kids making a mess. I swear, I leave for work, and the house turns into a disaster zone."
Lain kept her expression neutral, but her voice was softer when she spoke.
"They look happy."
Alice glanced at her, surprised. Then, she smiled, a gentle warmth in her eyes. "Yeah. They are." She chuckled.
"It’s chaotic, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything."
Lain nodded slowly, looking away as the train continued its journey.
Alice then let out a small laugh.
"Oh, right! I need to pick up two birthday cakes after work today."
Lain glanced at her.
"Two?"
Alice nodded. "Yeah, my kids were born on the same day—just a few minutes apart. Total coincidence, but it makes birthdays easy to remember."
Lain tilted her head.
"Wouldn't it be simpler to get one big cake?"
Alice smirked.
"You’d think so, but nope. My son wants chocolate, and my daughter insists on strawberry. If I try to compromise, I’ll have a full-blown rebellion on my hands."
Lain watched as Alice smiled to herself, clearly thinking about her family.
"You really love them that much?"
Alice looked up, a bit surprised by the serious tone, but then she chuckled softly.
"Of course I do. They're my world. Sure, they drive me crazy sometimes, but at the end of the day, I’d do anything for them."
Lain turned fully to Alice and said.
"I hope you can always keep that peace."
Alice blinked, a little taken aback by the sudden statement.
"Huh?"
Lain looked forward, out the window as the city blurred past. "Family is important," she said softly.
"Even if things get difficult. Even if there are fights, or misunderstandings, or times when you don’t know what to do. As long as you can hold on to them, as long as they’re still there… then it’s worth it."
Alice stared at her for a long moment, something unreadable in her gaze. Then, she smiled—soft, genuine.
"I think so too."
Lain turned back to her, watching as Alice held her phone a little closer, as if the picture of her family meant even more now.
Alice then laughed a little.
"You know, you’re a bit strange, Lain. But… I feel like you get it."
Lain smiled faintly.
"Maybe."
The train continued forward, carrying them toward their separate destinations. But for now, in this moment, Lain felt something close to content.
---
She walked quietly through the familiar streets, the soft hum of the city distant yet ever-present. The neighborhood had barely changed—the same quiet atmosphere, the same neatly lined houses, the same faint glow of streetlights flickering as the evening approached.
She glanced around, her footsteps slow and deliberate.
She passed by a house where she remembered seeing kids play years ago. Now, it was silent. Had they grown up and moved away?
She walked past the old vending machine near the corner store. It was newer now, sleek and digital, but it still stood in the exact same spot.
Everything was the same.
And yet, everything was different.
Lain’s fingers lightly grazed the strap of her bag as she continued walking, the path ahead leading her toward one destination—home.
She hadn’t reached it yet.But she would soon.
"Hey~"
Lain turned around at the sound of someone calling her.
Standing a few feet away was… herself.
Another Lain.
It wasn’t surprising. She had seen countless versions of herself in the Wired—echoes, fragments, possibilities. She was omnipresent, existing in multiple places, multiple forms. But still, she tilted her head slightly, observing this one.
The clone smirked, placing a hand on her hip.
"What? You don’t remember me?"
Lain blinked.
"Should I?"
"Ouch." The clone placed a hand over her chest dramatically.
"That hurts, you know? And here I thought we had a special bond."
Lain remained unfazed.
"I’ve seen too many of myself to keep track."
The clone let out a playful sigh.
"I guess that’s fair. I mean, you are everywhere. But still, I thought I stood out. Maybe I should dye my hair or something?" She reached up, pretending to inspect her hair.
Lain didn’t react.
"That wouldn’t change much."
"Cold as ever." The clone gave her a lazy grin.
"So, what brings you back to the real world? Feeling nostalgic?"
Lain hesitated for a moment before answering.
"I just wanted to see my home in person again."
The clone is amused.
"And? How’s it feel? Strange? Familiar? Or maybe…" She leaned in slightly, voice dropping into something teasing.
"A little lonely?"
Lain’s expression didn’t change, but she didn’t answer right away either.
The clone chuckled, stepping back.
"Relax, I’m just messing with you. But let’s be real—you’re not just here to see. You’re wondering if you still belong here, aren’t you?"
Lain finally met her clone’s gaze.
"And if I am?"
"Then you’re more like them than you think." The clone grinned.
"Trying to find a place to belong, even though you already exist everywhere."
Lain glanced away, thoughtful.
The clone tilted her head.
"Well? You gonna invite me along? Or is this a solo nostalgia trip?"
Lain looked back at her for a moment before turning forward again.
"Do what you want. You always do anyway."
The clone laughed.
"Fair enough. Guess I’ll just watch and see how this little ‘homecoming’ of yours turns out."
And with that, Lain continued walking, her other self trailing just a few steps behind.
They walked side by side for a moment then the clone suddenly spoke.
"You know, you’re lucky."
Lain glanced at her.
"Lucky?"
The clone nodded.
"There's another timeline… almost like this one. The world, the people, even you. But there’s one big difference." She paused for a moment before continuing,
"That Lain didn’t make it."
Lain’s steps slowed slightly.
The clone shrugged.
"She killed herself. Decided there was no place for her here, no reason to exist anywhere but the Wired. So she left for good."
Lain stayed silent, letting the words sink in. She felt… something. A strange mix of curiosity and sadness. Not for herself, but for that Lain.
After a long pause, she finally spoke.
"That’s unfortunate."
The clone observed her carefully before smirking.
"You don’t look too sad about it."
Lain looked straight ahead, her expression unreadable.
"What do you want me to do? It’s already been done."
The clone let out a small chuckle.
"Fair point. Not like you can change what’s already happened in another timeline."
Lain nodded slightly.
"She made her choice. I don’t know what she felt at that moment, but… maybe, to her, it made sense."
The clone hummed in thought.
"Maybe. But I think she was just tired. Tired of trying to find a place where she belonged. Unlike you, she didn’t think she had a reason to come back."
Lain stay in silence for a moment before finally asking.
"What happened to her soul afterward?"
The clone tilted her head, considering the question.
"That’s the thing… no one really knows."
Lain’s brow furrowed slightly.
"You don’t know?"
The clone shrugged.
"None of the Lains I know do. She just… disappeared. Maybe she’s still wandering somewhere in the vastness of the Wired, or maybe she dissolved into data and became something else entirely. Maybe she doesn't even exist anymore."
Lain's gaze lowered slightly.
"So she really has nowhere to return to now."
The clone let out a short laugh, though it wasn’t entirely amused.
"Guess not. That’s the irony, huh? She left because she thought she had nowhere to go, but in the end, she ended up truly nowhere."
Lain didn’t respond right away. She thought about that version of herself, about how lost and hopeless she must have felt. She had seen so many versions of herself, but this one… this one felt particularly tragic.
After a while, she simply muttered.
"I hope she found something."
The clone glanced at her, eyes flickering with something unreadable.
"You think she deserved something better?"
Lain nodded slowly.
"Yes."
The clone smirked.
"How sentimental of you."
Lain exhaled softly, her expression thoughtful.
"Maybe when I get back to the Wired, I'll try to find her."
The clone snorted, crossing her arms.
"Oh? And how exactly do you plan on doing that?"
Lain glanced at her.
"I’ll search. Ask around. There must be traces of her somewhere."
The clone smirked, shaking her head.
"You make it sound so easy. The Wired isn’t some neat, organized place, you know. It’s vast—endless, even. She could be anywhere… or nowhere."
Lain didn’t waver.
"Even so, I want to try."
The clone let out a mock gasp, placing a hand on her chest.
"Wow, look at you. So determined.Didn’t think you would go out of your way for someone who isn’t even technically ‘real’ anymore."
Lain gave her a calm but firm look.
"She was real enough to feel pain. Real enough to give up."
The clone paused for a moment before chuckling. "Hmph." She stretched her arms lazily.
"Still, don't get your hopes up. Finding one specific Lain in the Wired is like trying to hear a whisper in a storm."
Lain remained unfazed.
"Then I'll listen carefully."
The clone stared at her for a beat before shaking her head with an amused grin.
"You really are different from the rest of us."
Lain didn’t respond. She simply kept walking, her mind already drifting back to the Wired and the possibility of finding that lost version of herself.
---
Something gently bump against the front of her shoe. She looked down—a slightly worn-out rubber ball had rolled up to her feet, its faded colors showing signs of countless games played.
She glanced up and spotted a small group of kids at a playground in the distance. They were laughing, chasing each other, lost in their own little world. One of them, a boy with messy hair, cupped his hands around his mouth and called out.
"Hey ma'am, can you kick it back?"
Lain stared at them for a moment, then at the ball.Slowly, she lifted her foot and tapped it upward, letting it bounce lightly on her knee. Then, with a smooth motion, she sent it sailing back toward them with a precise kick.
The kids cheered as the ball landed right in their game. The boy grinned.
"Whoa! Cool kick,ma'am!"
Lain just gave a small nod before continuing on her way but she heard the sound of small footsteps rapidly approaching. She glanced to the side just as one of the kids—a boy, probably no older than ten—came running up to her, holding out a skateboard.
"Hey, hey! You’re really good! Do you know how to skate?" he asked eagerly.
"You kicked that ball like a pro, so I bet you can!"
Lain blinked, a little caught off guard. She hesitated before slowly reaching out, taking the skateboard from his hand.This felt oddly heavy in her grasp, the weight grounding her in the moment.
She stared at them, considering the thought.
"Do I even know how to skate?"
She couldn’t recall ever trying before. The Wired didn’t require movement like that—she simply was wherever she needed to be. But here… in the real world…
The boy watched her expectantly, rocking on his heels.
"Well? Wanna give it a shot?"
Lain glanced down at the skates again. She felt something unfamiliar bubbling up inside her—not quite hesitation, not quite excitement.
---
Moments later, as Lain walked away from the playground, her clone strolled beside her with an exaggerated sigh.
"I can’t believe you passed up that chance. Watching you try to skateboard would’ve been hilarious."
Lain shot her a sideways glance.
"It would’ve been uncomfortable. I’m wearing a long skirt."
The clone waved a dismissive hand.
"Excuses, excuses. You could’ve just hiked it up a little."
Lain exhaled through her nose.
"I would’ve failed anyway."
The clone smirked. "Exactly. And that’s why it would’ve been fun to watch." She then nudged Lain playfully.
"Come on, what’s the worst that could’ve happened? A little embarrassment? A scraped knee? You’re practically a god in the Wired, but out here, you’re just some awkward girl avoiding life experiences."
Lain remained silent for a moment before responding calmly.
"I didn’t come back to the real world to entertain you."
They reached their destination, Lain slowed her steps. The house stood in the distance—unchanged yet marked by time. The familiar structure, the quiet presence of her past, was right in front of her.
She moved to the side, finding a spot where she could get a clear view of the inside through the window. Peering in, she saw them.
Her parents.
Their hair had turned silver with age, time etching its presence into their faces. They looked… older. Frailer. But still, they remained in the same routine she remembered.
Her father, Yasuo, sat at his desk, still fiddling with his old NAVI. Even after all these years, he hadn’t abandoned it.
Her mother,Miho,sat on the couch, watching TV, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the screen. She seemed content, absorbed in whatever program was playing.
Lain observed them in silence.
They had moved on without her. Of course, they had.
She shifted her gaze upward, her eyes landing on the second floor.
Her old room should be up there… or rather, Mika’s room now.
After the "reset," no one remembered her. It was as if she had never existed in their lives. So, naturally, her room wouldn't be hers anymore. Mika must have taken it over at some point, filling it with her own presence, her own life.
The thought settled strangely in Lain’s mind. It wasn’t sadness exactly—more like a quiet acceptance of how things had moved forward without her.
Still, she couldn't help but wonder. Was there anything left in that room that once belonged to her?
Bike-chan.
Her old plush dog—her constant companion in the days before everything changed. Did Mika throw it away? Or had it somehow survived all these years, buried under things that no longer mattered?
A quiet curiosity took hold of her. She focused, her pupils dilating ever so slightly. The world sharpened in her vision, every detail becoming crisp and clear as she peered into the room beyond the glass.
There—on a shelf near the bed, among a collection of other plush toys.
Dust clung to their surfaces, signs of neglect and time. But there, tucked between them,is Bike-chan.
It had seen better days. The once-soft fur was faded, the seams slightly worn, and a layer of dust dulled its familiar shape. It looked small—smaller than she remembered.
Yet, it is still there.
A forgotten relic of a girl who had erased herself.
“Your sister didn’t even bother to clean up your old companion, huh?Guess that means she really doesn’t care.”
The clone beside her nudged her shoulder playfully.
Lain didn’t take the bait. She kept her gaze on the plushies and simply shrugged.
“She didn’t throw them away. That’s enough.”
The clone gave her a look—half amused, half skeptical.
“You sure are easy to please.”
Lain’s gaze drifted downward, settling on the living room once more.
There, on a small table near the TV, was a framed family picture.
Her father, Yasuo, stood in the center, his usual composed expression intact. Her mother,Miho,sat beside him, smiling softly. And Mika—tall and confident—stood next to them. They looked… normal. Like any other family.
But Lain isn’t there.
A quiet ache settled in her chest. It was foolish to expect otherwise, but seeing it still made something in her sink.The clone hummed beside her.
“Maybe you should go talk to them,i mean, you’re already here.”
Lain didn’t even entertain the idea. She shook her head.
“You know I can’t do that,they don’t know me.”
The clone smirked, crossing her arms.
“Yeah, yeah. But still, wouldn’t it be funny to see their reactions?”
Lain shot her a look, but there was no real malice in it.
“I think I’ll pass.”
She exhaled softly, pushing aside the brief sadness. There was no point dwelling on what was already gone.
Lain stood motionless, her thoughts wavering between the past and present, until the distant hum of a car engine reached her ears.
She instinctively stepped back, pressing herself out of sight as the vehicle pulled into the driveway. Mika.
Lain watched from the shadows as her older sister stepped out, carrying a small bag—probably dinner or something for their parents. Mika looked the same as she did earlier at the salon, her tall frame moving with an air of casual exhaustion. She didn’t seem to hesitate as she unlocked the door and stepped inside, greeting their parents with a tired but familiar voice.
Lain remained hidden, listening to the faint murmur of conversation drifting through the walls.
What now?
She had already seen enough. Her family was doing fine. Mika had her own life. There was no place for her here—just as she had always known.
Still… something kept her feet planted to the ground.
Should she return to the Wired? The place where she was omnipresent, where she could exist in all places at once, yet never truly be anywhere.
Should she stay here a little longer? The real world, where time passed her by, where things changed without her.
--
Mika is in the kitchen, slicing vegetables with practiced ease. The rhythmic thunk-thunk of the knife against the cutting board filled the quiet house. Their parents were watching TV in the living room, Yasuo occasionally muttering something about his old NAVI. It was an ordinary evening—until she heard a knock at the door.
She paused mid-slice, furrowing her brow.
"Who the hell is coming this late?"
Wiping her hands on a kitchen towel, she made her way to the door. Probably a neighbor. Or maybe Juri and Reika had come to pester her about the Taro situation again.
She swung the door open—only to find nothing but the evening breeze.
No person. No sound. Just the quiet hum of the streetlights buzzing above.
And then she looked down.
Sitting neatly on the doorstep was… a dog plush?
Mika blinked. Her first instinct was to scoff.
"Some dumb kid probably dropped it and ran off."
But as she crouched down and picked it up, something about it felt oddly familiar.The plush was old, its fur slightly worn, as if it had been well-loved once. But there was something new—on its left ear, clipped securely, was a small yellow “X”-shaped hair clip.
Mika turned it over in her hands, inspecting it.
“...What?”
Something tugged at her memory, like a forgotten dream just out of reach.
--
Lain stood at a distance, hidden in the shadows of a streetlamp, watching as Mika held the plush dog in her hands. She saw the way Mika’s brow furrowed, the way her fingers hesitated over the worn fabric, the faintest flicker of recognition crossing her face.
Lain smiled to herself.
The clone beside her chuckled, nudging her shoulder.
“That was pretty clever, you know. Leaving something like that instead of showing up yourself.”
Lain kept her eyes on Mika for a moment longer before finally turning away.
“She wouldn’t recognize me anyway,but this way… at least she’ll remember something. Even if it’s just a feeling.”
The two began walking, their steps slow as the sky burned with hues of deep orange and violet. The sun was dipping below the horizon, stretching long shadows across the pavement.
“So,” the clone started, hands behind her head, “what now? Back to the Wired? Gonna dig through files like usual?”
Lain hummed in thought.
“Maybe,” she admitted.
“But I was thinking… I want to try finding her.”
“That Lain?” The clone raised an eyebrow.
"She is beyond saving at this point."
Lain nodded.
“Maybe true but...I want to know why she did it.What made her think the Wired was the only place left for her?”
The clone let out a low whistle.
“That’s gonna be a long search. You sure you wanna spend all that time looking?”
Lain gave a small shrug.
“The Wired is infinite. But I’m everywhere in it, too. If she’s out there… I’ll find her.”
The clone smirked.
“You're so stubborn.Still trying to fix things, even when they’re long gone.”
Lain chuckled softly, the sound almost lost in the warm evening air.
“I don’t think I can fix anything. But… maybe I can understand. And if she’s still out there, I can tell her that she isn’t alone.”
The clone was quiet for a moment, then stretched her arms out with a dramatic sigh.
“Well, if we’re going back to the Wired, I say we mess with a few network feeds first. Maybe drop some harmless glitches in random places, see how people react.”
Lain shook her head, amused.
“You just like watching people panic.”
“Of course,” the clone grinned. “It’s hilarious.”
Lain exhaled through her nose, a soft breath that almost resembled laughter. The two of them kept walking, step by step, as the city lights flickered on around them. The sun had nearly vanished now, swallowed by the horizon.
As they disappeared into the distance, the real world and the Wired blurred together once more—just as they always had.