Seven Stones and a Name to Trust
Seven.
I counted them again, lining them up on my palm like they might magically multiply if I stared hard enough.
Seven magic stones.
Barely fingertip-sized.
One full day.
"…Yeah," I muttered. "This is survival, not progress."
Hunger I could manage. I was already familiar with it—old friend, old enemy. It stayed quiet if you ignored it long enough. The real problem was when it decided to collect payment.
Soon.
Black market crossed my mind immediately.
Half price. Maybe less.
Questions I didn't want. Eyes I couldn't afford.
"No," I said quietly. "Too early to disappear like that."
The Guild was impossible. No registration. No Familia. Walking in there with stones would be like painting a target on my back.
I paced once, then stopped.
"…Wait."
My eyes landed on the right person for the job.
Clear. Solid. Safe.
"Our savior…"
I almost laughed from relief.
"Lady Mikoto Yamato."
Black hair. Calm eyes. The kind of presence that didn't judge first and stab later. Member of Takemikazuchi Familia—small, honest, not the type to crush someone for existing.
"The black beauty," I whispered, reverent and grateful in equal measure.
Okay.
Next problem.
"How do I convince her?"
If I asked directly, she'd suspect something.
If I explained everything, I'd sound insane.
If I lied… she'd know.
I stopped pacing.
"…I don't need to convince her," I realized. "I just need to talk."
Mikoto wasn't a merchant. She wasn't a god. She was an adventurer who understood effort, struggle, and the difference between desperation and deceit.
Talking might be enough.
I closed my fist around the stones, feeling their faint warmth through my skin.
"Thank you," I murmured upward, to no one and everyone. "Creator gods. Illustrator gods. Whoever decided she exists."
For the first time since stepping into the Dungeon, I had a direction that didn't feel like a gamble.
Asking the Right Person
I walked toward her slowly.
Very slowly.
Not because I was confident—but because she was like a ninja.
A real one. The kind that notices shadows noticing them.
One wrong move and—bye bye hand. Or head. Or both.
I lowered my gaze halfway, then immediately panicked.
No no no.
That's rude.
She's not cruel.
She's calm. Polite. Normal.
Okay. Words. Use words.
"Umm… mam—no."
"Sister? No—no—no."
"Miss? Ummm… just miss is okay—no wait—"
I stopped walking.
"…Sis."
Alright. Committed.
"E-excuse me…"
She turned.
Fast. Quiet. Controlled.
"What?" she asked.
My soul briefly attempted to exit my body.
"A-am… excuse me, sister," I rushed out. "Can you help me?"
"Help?" She tilted her head slightly. "With what?"
Okay. Plan. Simple. Not lying too much. Just… bending.
"Amm… my brother left me here," I said, holding up the small pouch. "He went back into the Dungeon looking for his party. They fell behind. He told me to sell these, but I'm new around here. I don't know the way."
I opened my hand.
Magic stones. Small. Seven of them.
She didn't reach for them immediately.
She watched me.
Then her eyes dropped—brief, sharp—and landed on what I couldn't hide:
The wrapped, broken blade.
The improvised grip.
The lack of armor.
The lack of everything.
Understanding flickered across her face.
She took the stones, still cautious.
"…I see," she said softly. "Solo. No Familia?"
I didn't answer.
I didn't have to.
She nodded once. "Survival is hard like that."
My shoulders loosened without permission.
"I'll help," she continued. "I can show you where to sell them properly."
"No—" I blurted, then winced. "I mean—please just… help me here. With this."
I gestured, embarrassed but sincere.
She studied me one last time, then nodded.
"Alright."
She handled the exchange cleanly. No drama. No questions. Fair price—for what they were worth. Not generous. Not cruel. Honest.
When it was done, she handed me the valis.
"There," she said. "But you should consider joining a Familia. If you want, I can—"
"No," I said quickly, then bowed. "Thank you for helping me. I have a goal. I'll work hard to reach it."
I hesitated, then added, "I'll repay this kindness one day."
She blinked.
Then smiled.
"No need," she said warmly. "Help someone else when they need it. I can manage."
The smile was bright. Gentle.
And dangerous.
The kind that came from someone strong enough to be kind without fear.
I bowed again—deeper this time.
As I turned to leave, my fingers closed around the small pouch of valis.
[End of Chapter]
Author's Notes:
Seven stones. One day. One meal if he's lucky.
Mikoto Yamato: She didn't ask questions because she already knew the answers. Sometimes kindness looks like pretending you believe a bad lie.
Also: calling her "black beauty" while internally panicking about ninja reflexes is peak survival strategy. Respectful fear is the best policy.
Next time: Food. Actual food. And the realization that even eating costs more than you think when you're starting from zero.