The folding table looked ridiculous in her apartment.

  Suzume had found it at a secondhand shop for 3,000 yen, one of those flimsy metal things that wobbled if you breathed on it wrong. But it was an "office desk" now, covered in printed application forms that Yumi had somehow manifested overnight.

  "Seventeen applications," Yumi said from the couch, scrolling through her phone. "Most of them are bullshit. Three are just death threats. One guy attached a picture of his dick."

  "Why."

  "The internet is a magical place. It was pierced, by the way." Yumi swiped through more emails. "But there's maybe five worth looking at. The healer girl, Honoka Nakamura, is coming at 2. Had a little chat with her earlier. Seems like a good choice."

  Suzume checked the time. 1:47 PM. Her apartment was a disaster. Training equipment everywhere, her futon still rolled out, dishes in the sink from three days ago.

  "Should I have cleaned?"

  "Too late now."

  Her phone buzzed.

  Kasumi: how's the hiring going

  Suzume: First interview in 10 minutes

  Kasumi: hire whoever has the biggest boobs

  Suzume: KASUMI

  Kasumi: what? team morale is important

  Kasumi: or just hire someone competent idk

  Kasumi: we can do all the work ourselves right?

  Suzume stared at her phone. Kasumi's texting style gave her whiplash—half flirting, half genuinely not understanding why anyone else was needed when she could just solo everything.

  Suzume: We need a full team

  Kasumi: fine fine

  Kasumi: but I'm vetoing anyone annoying

  "You're smiling at your phone. Gross," Yumi said without looking up.

  "I'm not."

  "You are. It's disgusting."

  "Shut up."

  A knock at the door, so quiet Suzume almost missed it.

  She opened it to find a girl in a school uniform, black hair pulled into a regulation ponytail, clutching a folder like it might save her life. Sixteen, maybe seventeen. Her eyes were huge behind her glasses.

  "Um." The girl bowed so low her forehead nearly hit her knees. "Nakamura Honoka! I'm here for the interview! Thank you for having me!"

  "Come in." Suzume stepped aside. "You're early."

  "I'm sorry!"

  "That's not—it's fine. Being early is good."

  Honoka scurried inside, spotted Yumi on the couch, and bowed again.

  "Tanaka-san! Thank you for your email!"

  "Don't mention it." Yumi waved her toward the folding table. "Have a seat."

  The chair squeaked as Honoka sat. She placed her folder on the table with both hands, perfectly aligned with the edge. Everything about her screamed nervous energy.

  Suzume took the seat across from her. The folding table wobbled.

  "So." Suzume opened the folder. Resume, transcripts, a handwritten letter. The handwriting was meticulous, every character perfectly formed. "You're a Healer?"

  "Yes! Level 3. I awakened two years ago."

  "And you're sixteen?"

  "Yes! Well, almost seventeen. My birthday is next month. Um, that's why my level is so low, by the way, not many people wanted to go dungeon-running with me."

  Suzume glanced at Yumi, who was watching with the expression of someone enjoying a reality show. No help from her, clearly.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  "Why do you want to join a rescue guild?"

  Honoka's hands twisted in her lap.

  "I want to help people. I know that sounds generic, but it's true. I've tried joining other guilds, but they all say I'm too young or too low-level or I don't have enough experience, and I can't get experience because no one will hire me, so—" She stopped, took a breath. "Sorry. I'm rambling."

  "It's okay." Suzume had been exactly that nervous at her first maid cafe interview. "What guilds rejected you?"

  "Iron Fang, Crimson Veil, Phoenix—" Honoka ticked them off on her fingers. "Silver Hawks twice, actually. And Thunder Strike said I could join their support corps, but that's not really... I mean, I want to actually heal people, not just carry supplies."

  "Those are all combat guilds," she said. "They prioritize high-level damage dealers."

  "I know. But rescue work needs healers, right? Even low-level ones?"

  "Yeah." Suzume met her eyes. "Because high-level healers don't take the jobs we do."

  Honoka straightened. Hope flickered across her face.

  "Show me your skills."

  "Oh! Yes!" Honoka pulled up her status window.

  Suzume couldn't see it, obviously. Only the player could see their own full status. But she could see Honoka's level—a small [3] floating above her head in gold text, visible to any awakened person. Her HP and MP bars hovered below it: 35/35 HP, 95/95 MP.

  "I have Healing Touch, Purify, and Minor Barrier," Honoka said. "Healing Touch restores 45 HP, costs 15 MP, eight-second cooldown. Purify removes status ailments for 20 MP. Minor Barrier blocks 50 damage for 25 MP."

  Yumi whistled. "That's good MP efficiency for Level 3."

  "Thank you!"

  Suzume pulled her combat knife from her belt. Honoka's eyes went huge.

  "Relax." Suzume pressed the blade to her palm. "I'm just testing something."

  She drew the knife across her skin. Not deep, just enough to bleed. Pain sparked up her arm.

  "Heal this."

  "O-Okay!" Honoka leaned forward, hands hovering over the cut. Her fingers glowed soft blue. "[Healing Touch]."

  The warmth hit Suzume's palm before the light did. Not just heat—something gentler, like sunlight through water. The cut sealed from the inside out, skin knitting together with barely a scar.

  Suzume checked the wound. Clean work. No wasted energy, no overflow. Honoka had used exactly enough MP to close the cut and stop the bleeding, nothing more.

  "How'd you know how much to use?"

  "I... I don't know? I just feel it." Honoka touched her own palm, mirroring where the cut had been. "Like, if I push too much mana, it's a waste. If I don't push enough, it won't close properly. So I just... find the middle."

  Instinct. That was rare. Most healers had to practice for months to develop that kind of control.

  "What would you do," Suzume said, "if a Player was bleeding out and you only had mana for one more spell?"

  Honoka blinked.

  "One spell?"

  "One."

  "How bad is the bleeding?"

  "Bad. Arterial."

  Honoka's face went serious. She thought about it, fingers tapping against her thigh.

  "I'd stop the bleeding manually first. Pressure, tourniquet if needed. Save the mana for when we get hit during extraction, because we probably will, and then I'd heal the most critical injury. If it's arterial bleeding though, I'd have to use Healing Touch on that immediately because they'd die before extraction, but if it's just severe bleeding, I can manage it with first aid until we're clear."

  "You know first aid?"

  "I'm certified. Got my license last year."

  Suzume looked at Yumi. Yumi raised an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth twitching into something almost impressed.

  "Why rescue specifically?" Suzume asked. "You could study and work hospital support. Safer, better pay."

  "Because hospital support is boring!" The words burst out of Honoka like she'd been holding them in too long. "I didn't get magic powers to stand around and heal sprained ankles! I want to save lives! Real, actual, in-danger lives!" Her face went red. "Sorry. That sounded childish."

  "No." Suzume thought about her sister. About standing outside that portal for weeks, waiting. "It didn't."

  "I watched your video," Honoka said quietly. "The one where you announced the guild. And I thought... this is it. This is what I'm supposed to do. Not for glory or levels or money, just to help people who need it." She met Suzume's eyes. "So please. Give me a chance."

  The apartment was quiet except for the hum of the refrigerator.

  Suzume looked at this kid—because she was a kid, barely older than Suzume had been when Akane died—sitting there with her too-neat handwriting and her first-aid certification and her desperate hope.

  "Yumi?"

  "She's green," Yumi said. "But she knows her stuff."

  "That's not an answer."

  "Fine. Yeah. I like her."

  Suzume turned back to Honoka.

  "We'll give you a trial run."

  "Really!?" Honoka shot to her feet, chair squeaking. "Oh my god, thank you! I won't let you down! I'll work so hard! I'll—"

  "Sit."

  Honoka sat.

  "This isn't a game," Suzume said. "Destabilized dungeons kill people. Strong people. People with years of experience. You go in with us, you might die."

  "I know."

  "Do you?"

  "My magic is support-class." Honoka's voice went steady. "I'll never be strong. I'll never solo dungeons or rank on leaderboards. But I can keep people alive. That's what I'm for. That's what the System gave me." She straightened her glasses. "So yes. I know the risk. I'm taking it anyway."

  Suzume studied her. Sixteen years old and already understanding something most Players never learned—that power wasn't about levels or stats. It was about what you did with what you had.

  "Okay." Suzume stood, offering her hand. "Welcome to the Dungeon Rescue Guild."

  Honoka stared at the hand like it might vanish. Then she grabbed it with both of hers, shaking so hard the folding table rattled.

  "Thank you! Thank you so much!"

  "Don't thank me yet. We still need to keep you alive."

  After Honoka left—still bowing, still thanking them, backing out the door like she was leaving the presence of royalty—Suzume collapsed on the couch next to Yumi.

  "She's going to die," Yumi said.

  "Probably."

  "We're going to get blamed."

  "Definitely."

  "You hired her anyway."

  "... Yeah."

  Yumi lit a cigarette, cracked the window.

  "She reminds me of you. The first time I met you, I mean. That same 'I'll throw myself at this until it works or kills me' energy."

  "Is that a compliment?"

  "Absolutely not."

  Suzume's phone buzzed.

  Kasumi: well???

  Suzume: Hired her

  Kasumi: ... boobs?

  Suzume: She's sixteen

  Kasumi sent back a dead emoji.

  Kasumi: she better be good

  Suzume: She is

  Kasumi: if you say so

  Kasumi: btw I'm bored. wanna train tomorrow?

  Suzume's face went hot.

  Suzume: Sure

  Kasumi: ??

  That emoji was illegal. That emoji should be banned.

  "You're doing the smile thing again," Yumi said.

  "I'm not."

  "You are. It's like watching someone have a stroke."

  "I hate you."