Mio
She was greeted by cold air. The smell of convenience store garbage and distant traffic. Her own blood, drying on her skin. The knight's blood, still wet.
The two delvers were still there.
They turned. Saw her.
One of them, the one who'd told her it was the wrong incursion, checked his phone. She watched his face drain. Watched his eyes snap to the notification, then to her, then back down like he was hoping he'd misread it.
He hadn't.
A van pulled up at the mouth of the alley. Doors sliding open. Four more delvers spilling out, already geared, already moving.
Then they stopped.
The shimmer was closing. Shrinking. The incursion collapsing in on itself the way they do when there's nothing left inside.
"What the fuck?" The one in front. Tank build, tower shield on his back. He looked at the two delvers, then at the shimmer, then at Mio. "We had dibs. Who cleared it?"
The first delver pointed at her.
The tank laughed. Then stopped laughing.
"Oh, you're serious huh? Well fuck me."
Another voice. "Isn't that the girl who can't heal right?"
Mio's eyes darted to the culprit. The pale, scrawny girl with the crystal staff actually jumped.
She knew that face. Not personally. Just the type. Support class. Probably ran the same F-grade circuits Mio used to grind. Probably heard the stories.
Dead weight. Broken healer. The one whose party wiped.
"I didn't mean—" The healer was backing up now. "I just heard... everyone talks about..."
"The healer with the penalty." The tank said it slow. Working through it. "The one from the Meguro wipe. Half the forums say you got your party killed."
Mio didn't answer.
"And you just soloed a C-grade swarm." He looked at the closing shimmer. At the blood. At her. "In under four hours."
The math wasn't mathing. She could see it breaking his brain in real time.
"And what the hell is that on your shoulder?" The third one. Young. Sword and board.
The knight was about to do something. Mio could sense it. The tiny thing tensing, ready to defend, ready to fight.
She placed it into her hoodie pocket. Gently.
It peeked out. Visor barely visible. Staring at the tank the whole time.
"You have any idea what you just cost us?" Not the tank. Another one. Older. Thin face, cheap gear. Must have got lucky being dragged along with this party.
Dead weight.
He stepped forward. Shaking. Not with fear.
"That was our last shot this month. Three days left. Three fucking days, and that was the only C-grade in the ward."
Mio recognized the math. The same math she'd been doing for a year. Quota minus earnings minus rent minus food minus Nana.
"Do you know what happens if we miss quota? Do you?"
She knew. She'd almost found out herself. More than once.
"Grab her."
The sword-and-board kid hesitated. The healer stepped back.
"I said grab her!"
Two of them moved. Hands on her arms. Grip tight. She let them.
The first punch caught her in the stomach.
[-40 HP]
The second across her jaw.
[-50 HP]
The third, a haymaker from the tank who'd decided he wanted in.
[-80 HP]
[HP: 1,250/1,420]
She spat blood. Watched it splatter on the concrete between them.
"That's it?" She looked up. "Try harder."
The thin man's face went red. Then purple.
He drew his katana. Nice steel. C-grade at least. The kind of blade that could actually hurt.
"Hold her still."
The grip on her arms tightened. The healer on her left, fingers digging in, trying to matter.
The blade went up.
Mio yanked her right arm. The kid came with it, stumbling, tripping over his own feet. He hit the ground hard.
The blade came down.
She raised her forearm.
Steel met skin. Clean hit.
[-270 HP]
[HP: 980/1,420]
The katana stopped. Two inches into her arm. Stuck there, edge caught on something that shouldn't have been able to stop it.
Blood ran down her wrist. Dripped off her fingertips.
"I actually felt that."
He pulled. The blade didn't move.
He pulled harder. Still nothing.
She reached up with her other hand. Wrapped her fingers around the steel. Pulled it out herself.
The healer screamed. The kid on the ground scrambled backward.
"You're a fucking monster." The tank. Backing away now. All of them backing away. "Let's go. Let's fucking go."
They ran.
The scene was immensely odd. Six C-grade delvers in full gear, running from a seventeen-year-old girl bleeding in an alley.
The katana was still in her hand.
She looked at it. Good steel. Balanced.
She dropped it. Let it clatter on the concrete.
Monster.
She could feel them as they fled. The bloom waiting inside each one. The tank at twenty thousand. The healer at nine. The thin one at twelve.
Every one of them would have died to the Putrid Knight. The knight in her hoodie watched the last one jump into the van. It seemed to agree too.
Her legs were shaking. Her hands were shaking. Everything was shaking, and she couldn't tell if it was the cold or the comedown or her body finally catching up to what she'd done.
She made it around the corner before her knees gave out.
She caught herself against the wall. Brick. Cold. Real.
And threw up.
Everything. The eggs from six hours ago. The bile underneath. The nothing underneath that.
She heaved until there was nothing left, until her stomach was cramping and her throat was raw and her eyes were streaming.
The tiny knight climbed out of her pocket. Stood on her shoulder. Saluted.
Mid-heave. Like she'd accomplished something.
She wasn't crying because of the vomit.
She was crying because she'd been at forty-eight HP and she'd felt disappointed when the knight fell.
Because twenty thousand Reservoir had poured out of her to claim it and it had felt right.
Because the hunger was still there, curled in her chest, satisfied for now but already wondering when they could do it again.
Because they'd called her a monster, and she wasn't sure they were wrong.
The tiny knight watched from her shoulder. Silent. Patient.
When she was done, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
Her hand wouldn't steady.
Good. I can still shake.
I can still feel sick about wanting to go back there.
She pushed off the wall. Stood. Swayed.
She started walking.
Nana was waiting. Breakfast to buy. A promise to keep.
The sun was coming up over Tokyo, painting the buildings in shades of orange and pink.
She never looked back.