The Girl Who Passed By
I noticed her by accident.
Which, somehow, made it worse.
The street was crowded—Orario always was. Adventurers moving in packs, merchants shouting prices, gods laughing too loudly like they owned the place. I walked without purpose, hood up, hands in my pockets, just another nobody drifting between people with somewhere to be.
Then—
She passed me.
No warning. No dramatic entrance. Just a blur of motion brushing my shoulder.
My brain stalled.
Silver—no, not silver.
Pale ash. Almost blue in the sunlight. Hair tied back loosely, swaying once as she moved past. Light armor, practical, worn but clean. Not flashy. Not heroic-looking.
Just… right.
I turned too late.
She was already gone, swallowed by the crowd.
"…Huh?"
That was it. No sparks. No destiny alarm. Just a strange hollowness in my chest, like I'd missed a step going downstairs.
I stood there for a second longer than necessary.
Did I imagine her?
No.
My heart hadn't reacted like that to imagination before.
I shook my head. "Get it together."
Orario was full of people. Strong people. Beautiful people. Passing strangers meant nothing.
Still—
For the rest of the day, I caught myself glancing into crowds, stupidly hoping to see that pale hair again.
I didn't.
The Pathetic Dungeon Debut
The Dungeon smelled wrong.
Not blood—stone. Wet, ancient, breathing stone. I was already lost by the time I realized I was lost, corridors looping in ways that made no sense.
What kind of pathetic fan forgets to grab a weapon?
I'd been so hyped to see the Dungeon—so caught up in being here—that I'd walked in with nothing but my stupid ghost falna and zero survival instincts.
"Okay," I muttered, spinning in place. "Left? No—right? Wait, did I already—"
Then I saw her.
Small. Quick. Chestnut hair tucked under a hood. Moving like she knew where she was going.
Lilly Arde.
I didn't call out. Didn't wave. Didn't even step closer.
I just… followed.
Because she survived.
Because monsters didn't rush her the way they rushed everyone else.
Because if I stayed near her, maybe I wouldn't be the first thing something noticed.
Borrowed safety.
Pathetic? Yes.
Effective? Hopefully.
When Borrowed Safety Runs Out
She moved carefully—purposefully—and I matched her pace exactly.
When she stopped, I stopped.
When she turned, I ducked.
Her ears twitched. I froze behind a glowing moss-covered rock, heart pounding. Dungeon plantry. Even hiding felt wrong in a place that watched you back.
She paused.
Turned slightly.
Not toward me.
Then moved.
Faster.
Gone around a bend.
"…Vanished?" I whispered.
The space she left behind felt suddenly empty.
Then something flew toward me.
Small. Twitching.
It hit the ground and rolled—
"EWW—GO AWAYYYYY!"
I stumbled back, panic flaring white-hot over something the size of my fist.
Alive?!
Or not...
I didn't even recognize what it was.
Krrrrkreeeeeeekkkkk.
I turned slowly.
A kobold.
Thump-thump-thump—
"…Which floor am I even on?!"
This was supposed to be safe. Beginner territory. Tutorial mobs.
The kobold sniffed the air.
Then it grinned.
"Run," my mind screamed.
Then louder—
"RUN RUN RUN RUN—!"
I bolted.
Badly.
Boots slapped stone. Breath tore from my lungs. The Dungeon stretched endlessly—corridors twisting like they enjoyed watching me panic.
"WHY IS IT SO FAST?!"
The kobold snarled behind me, claws scraping stone.
My legs burned almost immediately.
Not heroic burning. Not training arc burning.
The why-did-you-think-this-was-a-good-idea kind.
Every step echoed too loud, every breath scraped my throat raw. The Dungeon felt amused—like it had noticed me properly now and decided I was worth chasing.
So, this is how it starts, huh?
Not with glory. Not with a skill awakening.
Just running. Panicking. Realizing too late that knowledge meant nothing if your body couldn't keep up.
I wasn't special.
I was prey.
I turned a corner—
Dead end.
"Oh. Of course."
Pain slammed into my side, and I hit the ground hard. Stone scraping my cheek, ribs screaming, vision shaking. My body curled up without asking me.
It hurts.
I can't get up.
So, this is it.
I pressed my face to the cold stone.
First day in Orario. First floor. Maybe second. Dead to a kobold because I forgot to grab a weapon.
What a joke.
The kobold's footsteps scraped closer—
Then—
A sharp whistle cut the air.
Thunk.
Silence.
Alive (Somehow)
"…I'm alive?" I whispered.
The kobold collapsed into dust.
A tiny golden arrow clattered once against stone—
—and vanished, pulled back into shadow by an invisible thread.
Understanding came slowly.
She didn't stay.
She never planned to.
But she hadn't let me die.
Because that's how she operates.
I pulled myself up slowly, ribs protesting.
The kobold's remains were dissolving now—but there, glowing faintly in the ash, sat a small crystalline stone.
A magic stone.
I picked it up carefully.
Warm. Real. Proof.
My first real encounter with magic.
"…Holy shit," I whispered. "It's actually—"
Then louder, to the empty corridor:
"I'm keeping this!" I yelled. "You used me as cover. This is my share!"
The Dungeon didn't answer.
Reflection
She wasn't good. She wasn't kind.
She was real.
I looked down at the magic stone again. At the proof of survival. At the arrow that had come at the last possible second.
"She's not bad to everyone," I admitted. "Just bad, to bad people."
And yeah—that meant she was bad too.
She'd left me unarmed. Let a kobold rush me. Waited until the last possible second.
Not mercy. Assessment.
If I died? Too weak. Not her problem.
If I lived? Maybe useful.
I looked at the space where the kobold had been. At the clean kill. At the lack of hesitation behind that shot.
"…You really are a survivor," I muttered.
Anger flickered—but it didn't stick. Because part of me understood.
This city didn't reward kindness. The Dungeon punished trust. And supporters like Lilly learned early that sympathy got you killed.
I clenched my fist around the magic stone.
"Fine," I whispered into the empty corridor. "I get it."
Next time, I wouldn't rely on anyone's arrow but my own.
I straightened, heart still racing, fear settling into something harder.
"Alright, Dungeon," I said softly. "Lesson learned."
Somewhere ahead, I knew she was watching.
And somewhere deep inside me, that quiet warmth answered back—steady, patient.
First blood wasn't a victory.
It was a warning.
🍃
Behind a wall leading deeper into the Dungeon, a small prum girl watched, ears flattened.
"Tch."
Should've let him scream a while longer.
She turned away.
Epilogue
I stumbled out of the Dungeon entrance like a drunk at dawn.
Sunlight hit my face and I flinched.
Adventurers walked past—armored, confident, carrying actual weapons like functional people.
I looked down at myself.
Covered in dust. Scraped up. Clutching a single magic stone like it was the Holy Grail.
Lessons learned:
1. Always grab a weapon, you idiot
2. Following strangers in dungeons = bad idea
3. Lilly Arde is still bad... but maybe not to me
4. That girl with pale ash hair... who was she?
I pocketed the magic stone.
First dungeon run: Complete.
Status: Humiliated but breathing.
Tomorrow, I'd figure out what the hell to do in this world.
Today?
I survived.
That was enough.