The training room's walls were covered in mirrors.

  Suzume watched herself get absolutely demolished for the third time in five minutes.

  "Your stance is too wide," Kasumi said, offering her a hand up. "Makes you slower on the pivot."

  Suzume took the hand. Kasumi's grip was warm and firm, and she held on for half a second longer than necessary before pulling Suzume to her feet.

  [Stop being weird about it.]

  "Like this." Kasumi moved behind her, hands on Suzume's hips. "Feel the difference?"

  Suzume's brain short-circuited. Kasumi smelled like expensive shampoo. Her breath tickled Suzume's ear.

  "Y-yeah. I feel it."

  "Good. Now, when I come at you—" Kasumi stepped back and raised her practice spear. "You pivot on your back foot and redirect my momentum."

  The spear came forward in slow motion. Suzume tried to focus on the technique, but Kasumi had rolled up her sleeves and her forearms were incredibly distracting. She was very toned, and had a few scars from early training days, Suzume guessed.

  [Wait, no. Focus. FOCUS.]

  She pivoted. Too late. The spear tip touched her ribs.

  "Dead again." Kasumi grinned. "But better. You're thinking too much."

  "Story of my life."

  "Here, watch me." Kasumi demonstrated the move. Unlike Suzume, her body flowed like water, each motion visibly connected to the next. The fabric of her training shirt pulled tight across her shoulders when she extended.

  Suzume realized she was staring.

  "See? It's all one movement." Kasumi turned back to her. "Your turn."

  They practiced for another hour.

  By the end, Suzume had successfully redirected exactly two attacks out of fifty. Her shirt was soaked with sweat while Kasumi barely looked winded.

  "Not bad for a Fighter class," Kasumi said, tossing her a water bottle. "Most of them just try to punch through everything."

  Suzume caught it and took a long drink. The lie about her class still sat heavy in her stomach.

  "Thanks for this, by the way. I know you're busy."

  "Never too busy for my cute Suzu-chan." Kasumi winked. "Besides, I like having a training partner who actually listens. The rookies at my guild just want to show off."

  They sat on the bench. Kasumi's thigh pressed against hers.

  "That Rescue Girl footage from last night was everywhere," Kasumi said suddenly. "Did you see it?"

  Suzume kept her face neutral.

  "Uh, yeah, kind of hard to miss."

  "The media's eating it up. 'Silent hero saves three from certain death.'" Kasumi rolled her eyes. "She's going to get herself killed with these stunts."

  "She saved those Players though."

  "This time. What happens when she's finally in over her head? No guild backup, no support team. It's reckless."

  [If only you knew.]

  "Maybe she doesn't have a choice," Suzume said carefully. "Maybe the system failed those Players first."

  Kasumi gave her a sharp look.

  "You sound like you admire her."

  "I admire anyone trying to help people."

  "Even if they're breaking the law?"

  "Is saving lives illegal now?"

  Kasumi laughed.

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  "Damn, Suzu. You've got a rebellious streak. I like it." She stood and stretched. "Same time next week?"

  "Yeah, definitely."

  Kasumi grabbed her gym bag. At the door, she paused and looked back.

  "Hey, Suzu-chan?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Wear something tighter next time. Loose clothes hide your form. I can't correct what I can't see."

  She left before Suzume could respond.

  [I'm going to die. Just not from monsters.]

  ---

  Two hours later, Suzume met Yumi at a coffee shop in Harajuku. The journalist wore sunglasses despite being indoors and kept checking her phone.

  "You look exhausted," Yumi said.

  "Training ran long."

  "Training for what? Marathon running?"

  "Something like that."

  Yumi slid a tablet across the table. The screen showed social media metrics. Hashtags, view counts, engagement rates.

  "You're trending in twelve countries," Yumi said. "The silent thing is actually working. People are calling you mysterious, enigmatic, badass."

  "I still need to communicate with survivors."

  "That's why we're here." Yumi stood. "Come on. My friend's waiting."

  They took the train to Akihabara. The streets were packed with tourists and tech enthusiasts. Yumi led her down a narrow alley to an unmarked door. She knocked three times, paused, then knocked twice more.

  "Seriously?" Suzume asked.

  "She's paranoid."

  The door opened. A girl about Suzume's age stood there, wearing a lab coat over a graphic tee that said 'I VOID WARRANTIES'. Her hair was dyed electric blue and she had more piercings than Suzume could count.

  "This her?" the girl asked.

  "Mika, meet Suzume. Suzume, Mika."

  Mika looked her up and down.

  "Huh. More normal-looking than I expected."

  "Thanks?"

  They followed Mika inside. The apartment was a disaster zone of computer parts, 3D printers, and half-assembled electronics. Monitors covered every wall, displaying code, schematics, and what looked like security camera feeds.

  "Don't touch anything," Mika said, clearing a path through the chaos. "Half this stuff is explosively unstable."

  "Explosively?"

  "Lithium batteries are touchy."

  She led them to a workbench where a black face mask sat connected to a laptop.

  "Voice modulator mark seven," Mika announced. "The previous six had... issues."

  "What kind of issues?" Suzume asked.

  "One made the wearer sound like a demon. Another only worked in Portuguese. Don't ask about mark four."

  Yumi picked up the mask. It looked like a standard tactical face mask, the kind cyclists wore in polluted cities.

  "The modulator's built into the fabric," Mika explained. "Nano-speakers create a interference pattern that alters your voice in real-time. Completely untraceable, sounds natural, and has sixteen different preset voices."

  "How much?" Yumi asked.

  "For Rescue Girl? Free." Mika grinned. "I hate the Player Association. Bunch of corporate bootlickers! Anyone pissing them off is a friend of mine."

  Suzume tried on the mask. It fit perfectly, covering her nose and mouth without restricting breathing.

  "Say something," Mika instructed.

  "Testing, one two three."

  Her voice came out different. Deeper, slightly rough. Like she'd been smoking for years.

  "Holy shit," Yumi said. "That's perfect. You sound nothing like yourself."

  "Try preset three," Mika suggested.

  Suzume found a small button on the mask's edge and clicked it twice.

  "How about now?" This time her voice was higher, younger.

  "Too creepy on you," Yumi said. "Go back to the first one."

  They spent twenty minutes testing different presets. Mika made adjustments on her laptop, fine-tuning the frequency ranges.

  "The battery lasts eight hours," Mika said finally. "Charges via USB-C. Water-resistant but not waterproof. Don't wear it in the shower."

  "Why would I shower in it?"

  "You'd be surprised what people do when they're too tired to change out of their clothes." Mika handed her a small case with three backup masks. "In case something happens to the primary. They're all synced to the same voice profile."

  "I can't thank you enough," Suzume said.

  "Just keep saving people. And maybe mention my handle if anyone asks about your tech." Mika winked. "Ghost404. Good for business."

  As they left, Yumi threw an arm around Suzume's neck.

  "Drinks. Now. We're celebrating."

  "It's three in the afternoon."

  "And?"

  "Don't you have actual work to do? Articles to write?"

  "Work can wait. This is more important."

  Suzume raised an eyebrow.

  "Day drinking on a Tuesday is more important than your career?"

  "It's called networking."

  "It's called alcoholism."

  "You wound me." Yumi clutched her chest dramatically. "I'm young! This is what people in their twenties do!"

  "Party at three PM on weekdays?"

  "Exactly!"

  "That's what unemployed people do."

  "Oi, oi," Yumi protested, pulling her closer. "I'm twenty-four! This is peak party age! Don't make me sound like some washed-up salaryman drowning his sorrows."

  "You literally just suggested day drinking to celebrate a voice modulator."

  "That's different. This is victory drinking."

  "It's Tuesday."

  "Victory Tuesday."

  Suzume shook her head but smiled.

  "You know I'm only eighteen, right? Can't even legally drink."

  Yumi stopped walking.

  "Wait, really?"

  "Really."

  "Shit. I keep forgetting you're basically a baby."

  "And you're basically a delinquent trying to corrupt the youth."

  "I AM THE YOUTH!"

  They walked toward the station, Yumi's arm still around her shoulders. A few people stared, probably wondering if they were a couple. It didn't help that Yumi was so comfortable with holding Suzume like this... but Suzume didn't mind.

  "Fine, coffee then," Yumi conceded. "But I'm getting Irish coffee."

  "That still has alcohol."

  "Yeah, it's coffee with benefits."

  "You have a problem."

  "Several, actually. But drinking isn't one of them." Yumi steered them toward a cafe. "I save my real drinking for after traumatic news stories. This is just casual celebration drinking."

  Her phone buzzed. It was Kasumi.

  Kasumi: hope training didn't wear you out too much

  Kasumi: drink plenty of water

  Kasumi: and stretch before bed

  Kasumi: ??

  [She's going to be the death of me.]

  "Who's got you smiling at your phone like that?" Yumi asked.

  "No one."

  "That's a 'someone special' smile."

  "It's nothing."

  "Is it a boy? Girl?"

  "Drop it."

  "It's definitely someone." Yumi grinned. "My baby's growing up."

  "You said you were twenty-four, not forty-four."

  "And you're dodging the question~"

  The train pulled into their stop. Suzume escaped onto the platform before Yumi could interrogate her further.