My Point of View

It was the next morning.

Thankfully...

I was still alive.

Barely.

The previous evening had gone almost exactly as I'd expected.

The moment Eleanor had seen me...

She'd sprinted the last twenty feet.

I'd barely had enough time to mutter, "Uh oh," before she collided with me like a runaway carriage.

The hug had nearly killed me.

Again.

My ribs had protested loudly enough that everyone present had winced in sympathy.

Even Eleanor had immediately realized what she'd done.

She'd recoiled in horror.

"Oh my Gods! Alex, I'm so sorry!"

Meanwhile, I was bent over, clutching my side while trying very hard to decide whether breathing was worth the pain.

"...Worth it..."

I'd wheezed.

"...Probably..."

That hadn't stopped her from hugging me again.

Much...

Much more carefully that time.

Roland had simply walked over.

Folded his arms.

Looked me up and down.

Then shook his head.

"...Took you long enough."

I had laughed.

Right before another sharp pain shot through my ribs.

"...Ow..."

"You deserved that."

"I know."

Marcus hadn't said much.

He'd simply placed a hand on my shoulder.

"...Don't do that again."

"I'll try."

"You'd better."

Even Aldric, normally the calmest among us, had looked visibly relieved.

He'd hidden it well.

But I'd noticed.

Then...

He'd immediately turned into a healer.

No sympathy.

No celebration.

Straight to work.

"Sit."

I'd blinked.

"...Hello to you too."

"Sit."

"...Yes, sir."

Before anyone could ask another question...

He'd already begun examining me.

His hands glowed with pale emerald mana as he carefully moved them a few inches away from my body.

Unlike Lady Shizuka's examination...

His spell focused almost entirely on mana.

I watched his expression slowly change.

Curiosity.

Confusion.

Concern.

"...Interesting."

"What?"

"You've recovered."

"I noticed."

"No."

He frowned.

"I mean your reserves."

I tilted my head.

"They're fine."

"They are."

He looked genuinely puzzled.

"...They shouldn't be."

I blinked.

"What do you mean?"

"You exhausted yourself. I watched the recording."

He looked directly into my eyes.

"You should barely possess enough mana to maintain basic enchantments."

I shrugged.

"...Apparently my body disagrees."

"It would seem so."

His glowing hand slowly traced the air near my chest.

Then my shoulders.

Then the base of my neck.

"...Ah."

"What?"

He sighed.

"You've strained your mana pathways."

I frowned.

"My..."

He nodded.

"The channels your body uses to circulate mana. They aren't damaged."

He quickly clarified.

"But..."

He looked thoughtful.

"They're inflamed. Like overworked muscles."

"So..."

I smiled weakly.

"...I pulled a magical hamstring?"

Aldric stared at me for several seconds.

"...That's..."

He reluctantly nodded.

"...Actually a surprisingly accurate comparison."

I grinned.

"I'll take it."

He wasn't amused.

"For the next several days..."

He folded his arms.

"...No large-scale spells."

"I wasn't planning on it."

"No experimental magic."

"I wasn't planning..."

He raised an eyebrow.

I sighed dramatically.

"...Fine."

"No reckless mana output."

"...Fine."

"No attempting to recreate that beam."

"...You saw that?"

He slowly looked at me.

"...Everyone saw that."

"...Right. I forgot."

He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Alex."

"Yeah?"

"I mean this."

His voice became noticeably more serious.

"If you force too much mana through damaged pathways..."

He paused.

"...You could permanently cripple your ability to cast."

The smile disappeared from my face.

"...Understood."

He nodded once.

"Good."

Only after he was satisfied did he finally let me escape.

I had barely made it halfway across the shrine before one of Lady Shizuka's attendants politely bowed.

"Lady Sayuri has sent a message."

Every Kitsune within earshot immediately looked over.

Even Lady Shizuka appeared mildly surprised.

"...Already?"

The attendant nodded.

"She requests that Sir Alex complete this."

She presented a neatly rolled scroll tied with a silver ribbon.

I accepted it carefully.

"...Homework?"

Lady Shizuka smiled into one sleeve.

"It would appear so."

That evening, I had spent nearly three hours working through the scroll.

It wasn't what I'd expected.

No riddles.

No philosophy.

No ancient prophecies.

Just...

Questions.

Hundreds of them.

Every page focused on anatomy.

Bones.

Muscles.

Ligaments.

Organs.

Blood circulation.

Nerves.

Healing.

Trauma.

Several pages asked me to sketch the human skeletal structure.

Another had me identify muscles.

Yet another asked how different injuries should be treated.

I found myself smiling.

"...This..."

Roland looked over from across the room.

"What?"

"...This is just a health exam."

He blinked.

"...Seriously?"

"Yeah."

He looked at the thick stack of parchment.

"...That's..."

He frowned.

"...A lot of health."

I chuckled.

"It really is."

To my own surprise...

I moved through most of it fairly quickly.

Back on Earth...

Health class had always been one of my favorite subjects.

Not because I wanted to become a doctor.

Because I'd always been fascinated by how the body worked.

When I was younger...

I'd read just about every anatomy book I could get my hands on.

Then...

I'd discovered my grandmother's old nursing textbooks.

That had opened an entirely new rabbit hole.

I remembered spending entire afternoons reading about muscles...

Bones...

The nervous system...

Even injuries and how they healed.

Apparently...

Childhood curiosity had finally paid off.

The only sections that slowed me down...

Were the ones involving mana.

Mana circulation.

Mana organs.

Mana pathways.

Natural mana regeneration.

Those...

I was still learning.

I answered what I could.

Made educated guesses where I couldn't.

Then...

Whenever I noticed a question based on ordinary human anatomy...

I found myself adding notes in the margins.

Sometimes correcting terminology.

Sometimes expanding upon answers.

Sometimes comparing how Earth's medical science understood the same structure.

By the time I finally set the brush down...

Several pages contained more writing in the margins than in the spaces originally provided.

I stared at the completed scroll.

"...Well."

I rolled it back up.

"...Hope she doesn't mind."

The following morning, I was eating breakfast when hurried footsteps echoed through the shrine.

The same young attendant from yesterday stopped just inside the doorway.

Breathing a little harder than usual.

"My Lady!"

Lady Shizuka looked up from her tea.

"Yes?"

The attendant bowed deeply.

"The examination..."

She glanced toward me.

"...Lady Sayuri has finished reading it."

Lady Shizuka smiled faintly.

"Already?"

"Yes."

"And?"

The attendant hesitated.

Something about that hesitation caught my attention.

"...She said..."

The young Kitsune swallowed.

"...that the outsider is either exceptionally gifted, or incredibly annoying."

I blinked.

"...Those seem like very different conclusions."

Lady Shizuka covered a laugh.

"They are."

The attendant continued.

"She also asked..."

She looked directly at me.

"...who gave him permission to correct her examination."

The room fell completely silent.

I slowly lowered the piece of bread in my hand.

"...Uh..."

Roland smirked.

"...Good luck."

I pointed at him.

"You're not helping."

"No."

He admitted.

"I'm enjoying this."

The attendant quickly added,

"She wasn't angry."

"...She wasn't?"

"No."

The young Kitsune actually smiled.

"She laughed."

Every elder present immediately looked up.

One even dropped his teacup.

"...She..."

Lady Shizuka blinked.

"...Laughed?"

The attendant nodded enthusiastically.

"Twice."

Now the room was genuinely stunned.

Lady Shizuka looked at me with open curiosity.

"...Alex."

"Hm?"

"I don't believe Lady Sayuri has laughed in over a century."

"...Well..."

I rubbed the back of my neck.

"...I'll take that as a good sign."

The attendant smiled.

"It is."

She bowed once more.

"Lady Sayuri has agreed to meet you."

Another pause.

"Immediately."

Lady Shizuka slowly stood.

A small smile crossing her face.

"...Then it would seem..."

She looked toward me.

"...our oldest healer has decided you're worth her time."

I wasn't entirely sure whether that was supposed to be reassuring...

Or intimidating.

Judging by the expressions around the room...

Everyone else seemed to think it was both.

I stood, careful not to move too quickly.

My ribs immediately reminded me that they still existed.

"...Right."

I adjusted the sword hanging at my side before checking that the BAR remained slung securely across my back.

The FN 545 rested comfortably in its holster.

The RSh-12 sat across my chest.

Everything was where it belonged.

Even so...

I couldn't shake the strange feeling that I wasn't quite the same man who'd entered the trial.

Lady Shizuka noticed my hesitation.

"Nervous?"

I gave a small shrug.

"A little."

She smiled knowingly.

"Good."

"...Good?"

"The arrogant rarely learn."

I chuckled.

"Guess I've got that part covered."

"You do."

She turned toward the doorway.

"Come."

The shrine complex was even larger than I'd first realized.

What I'd originally thought was a single shrine...

Was actually dozens.

Stone pathways wound between ancient buildings whose dark wooden beams had weathered centuries without losing their elegance.

Small bridges crossed crystal-clear streams fed by mountain springs.

Everywhere I looked...

Cherry blossom trees stood in full bloom.

Soft pink petals drifted lazily through the air, carried by the cool morning breeze.

Some landed upon the roofs.

Others upon the water.

A few settled upon my shoulders before being carried away once more.

The entire place felt...

Peaceful.

Not silent.

Alive.

Monks quietly swept the pathways.

Children practiced calligraphy beneath the watchful eyes of elderly teachers.

A pair of young Kitsune sparred with wooden practice swords while an instructor corrected their stances.

Several villagers bowed respectfully as Lady Shizuka passed.

Each one glanced curiously toward me.

Word had clearly spread.

I wasn't just the outsider anymore.

I was...

The outsider who had returned.

It was an uncomfortable title.

"...They're staring."

I muttered.

Lady Shizuka didn't even look.

"They're curious."

"I'd rather they weren't."

"You'll grow accustomed to it."

"I was hoping you wouldn't say that."

A faint laugh escaped her.

The further we walked...

The quieter everything became.

The busy village gradually disappeared behind us.

The pathways narrowed.

Ancient cedar trees replaced flowering cherry blossoms.

The air grew cooler.

Cleaner.

Even the birds seemed reluctant to sing here.

Eventually...

We reached another torii gate.

Unlike the bright vermilion gates below...

This one had been carved entirely from pale white stone.

No paint.

No decorations.

Just smooth stone that seemed to glow softly beneath the morning sun.

Beyond it...

A narrow staircase climbed the mountainside.

I looked upward.

"...Please don't tell me we're climbing all of that."

Lady Shizuka followed my gaze.

"There are four hundred and twelve steps."

I stared.

"...You're kidding."

"I am not."

I sighed dramatically.

"My ribs hate this already."

Kaede giggled.

"I'll count them!"

"You don't have to."

"I want to!"

She immediately darted ahead.

"One! Two! Three!"

I watched her disappear up the staircase.

"...Kids have too much energy."

Lady Shizuka smiled.

"Usually."

It took considerably longer for me.

By the time we reached the top...

I was breathing noticeably harder.

Not because the climb itself was difficult.

Because every deep breath reminded me of my fractured ribs.

"...Ow."

I muttered.

Lady Shizuka pretended not to hear me.

At the summit...

Another shrine awaited us.

This one was far smaller.

Far older.

Unlike the polished grandeur of the main shrine...

This sanctuary embraced simplicity.

Dark cedar walls.

A gently sloping roof.

Stone lanterns covered in moss.

A small koi pond reflected the morning sky.

Everything had been arranged with deliberate care.

Nothing felt excessive.

Nothing felt neglected.

Even the breeze seemed...

Slower.

The scent reached me first.

Fresh herbs.

Tea leaves.

Medicinal flowers drying beneath the eaves.

The smell reminded me faintly of hospitals back on Earth.

Only...

Warmer.

Less sterile.

Lady Shizuka stopped several paces from the entrance.

She bowed deeply.

Not out of obligation.

Out of genuine respect.

"...Lady Sayuri."

Her voice carried softly across the courtyard.

"We have arrived."

For several moments...

Nothing happened.

Then...

The paper door quietly slid open.

An elderly fox attendant stepped outside.

He couldn't have been much younger than Elder Hiro.

He bowed politely.

"...She is expecting him."

His eyes shifted toward me.

"You alone."

Lady Shizuka nodded.

"I understand."

She stepped aside.

Kaede looked disappointed.

"I can't come?"

The old attendant smiled kindly.

"Another day."

She pouted slightly.

"...Okay."

Lady Shizuka looked toward me.

"She already knows why you've come."

"I figured."

"One piece of advice."

I waited.

She smiled.

"...Answer honestly."

"I usually do."

"I know."

She paused.

"...She will know if you don't."

"...That's somehow more intimidating."

Lady Shizuka's smile widened.

"It should be."

I took one slow breath.

Then stepped inside.

The room was surprisingly spacious.

Sunlight filtered through paper windows, illuminating shelves filled with hundreds...

No...

Thousands...

Of carefully labeled scrolls.

Glass jars containing dried herbs lined the walls.

Mortars and pestles rested upon polished wooden tables.

Bundles of medicinal plants hung from the ceiling to dry.

The room smelled of cedar.

Tea.

Ink.

And flowers.

Near the far wall...

Someone sat with their back toward me.

Long golden hair cascaded almost to the floor like liquid sunlight.

Several enormous fox tails rested gracefully around her, their soft golden fur nearly covering the cushion beneath her.

Elegant black and crimson robes flowed around her like a pool of ink trimmed in scarlet silk.

Despite remaining seated...

She somehow commanded the entire room.

Not through force.

Through presence.

She continued writing calmly upon a scroll.

Never looking up.

"...Your handwriting."

Her voice was smooth.

Calm.

Rich with quiet authority.

"...Is terrible."

I blinked.

"...Excuse me?"

She continued writing.

"The anatomy was excellent. The physiology was impressive. The notes in the margins were fascinating."

She finally set the brush aside.

"But..."

She sighed ever so slightly.

"...Your handwriting nearly gave me a headache."

I couldn't help it.

I laughed.

"...Yeah. I've been told that before."

"So I gathered."

Only then...

Did she rise.

Slowly.

Gracefully.

She turned to face me.

For a brief moment...

I forgot how to breathe.

She looked remarkably young.

Far younger than I'd expected from someone centuries old.

Her long golden hair framed an elegant face that carried neither arrogance nor softness...

Only quiet confidence.

Nine magnificent fox tails fanned gently behind her.

Not dramatically.

Simply existing as naturally as breathing.

Golden ears rested atop her head, twitching ever so slightly as she studied me.

Her crimson and black robes were exquisitely crafted, embroidered with intricate silver fox motifs and delicate floral patterns. Wide sleeves draped elegantly at her sides, while layered sashes of deep crimson, black, and violet were tied neatly at her waist. Though richly adorned, nothing about her attire felt ostentatious. It reflected centuries of refinement rather than extravagance.

Her eyes...

Stopped me.

One was a brilliant sapphire blue.

The other...

A deep crimson.

Neither appeared magical.

Yet...

Looking into them felt strangely similar to standing before the First Tree.

Ancient.

Wise.

Impossible to deceive.

She studied me for several long seconds.

From my battered armor...

To the sword at my side...

To the revolver resting across my chest...

Finally...

Her gaze settled upon my eyes.

Silence.

She stepped closer.

One slow step at a time.

Until only a few feet separated us.

Then...

Without warning...

She reached up.

Placed two fingers lightly beneath my chin.

And tilted my head slightly toward the light.

"...Hmm."

She hummed thoughtfully.

"Interesting."

I remained perfectly still.

Not because I was afraid.

Because...

Somehow...

I had the distinct impression she had already learned more about me in five seconds...

Than most people managed in five years.

"...Interesting."

Her fingers remained beneath my chin for several more seconds.

Not forcefully.

Simply...

Holding my head at an angle where the morning sunlight poured through the paper windows.

Her mismatched eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

Blue met my left eye.

Crimson studied my right.

Silence.

Long...

Uncomfortable...

Silence.

I shifted my weight.

"...Should I be worried?"

She ignored the question entirely.

Instead...

Her thumb gently rested beneath my right eye.

"...Does this hurt?"

"...No."

"...Burn?"

"No."

"...Blur your vision?"

"No."

She hummed thoughtfully.

"...Any headaches?"

"...Besides climbing four hundred and twelve stairs?"

Nothing.

Not even the hint of a smile.

"...No."

I sighed dramatically.

"...Thought it was worth a shot."

Still...

Nothing.

She slowly lowered her hand.

Then began walking around me.

One slow circle.

Not unlike a wolf inspecting another.

Her eyes missed nothing.

The tears in my armor.

The dried blood.

The countless scratches covering the steel.

Even the repaired enchantments engraved beneath the surface.

She stopped behind me.

"...Unsheathe your sword."

I reached over my shoulder.

The blade slid free with its familiar metallic whisper.

Sunlight reflected beautifully across the dragon-scale steel.

Lady Sayuri accepted it without a word.

The instant her fingers wrapped around the hilt...

The blade reacted.

The silver lines running through the metal brightened.

A heartbeat later...

The single black line awakened beside them.

Neither flared.

Neither fought.

They simply...

Existed.

Balanced.

Lady Sayuri slowly turned the sword over in her hands.

Studying every inch of it.

"...You forged this."

"I did."

"With dragon scales."

"Yeah."

She nodded faintly.

"...Good craftsmanship."

I blinked.

"...Thank you."

She looked almost offended.

"I wasn't complimenting you."

"...Oh."

"I was stating a fact."

"...Right."

She handed the sword back.

I quietly slid it home.

Silence returned.

"...The revolver."

She held out one hand.

I already knew what she meant.

The RSh-12 left its holster.

I placed it carefully into her palm.

Again...

The weapon awakened.

This time...

Far more eagerly.

Silver.

Black.

Silver.

Then...

A soft twilight glow spread through the engraved spell array.

Lady Sayuri's eyebrow rose.

"...Curious."

She rotated the cylinder.

The runes shifted slightly beneath her touch.

Almost...

Greeting her.

She looked toward me.

"...You have not yet noticed."

"...Noticed what?"

She held the revolver out.

"Take it."

I did.

"The grip."

I frowned.

"...Feels normal."

"It does now."

"...Okay..."

She folded her hands into her sleeves.

"Channel mana."

Only a thread.

Just enough to wake the enchantments.

The runes illuminated immediately.

The familiar twilight glow spread through the weapon.

"...Now..."

She continued.

"...Stop."

I released the mana.

The glow faded.

Yet...

One tiny rune near the hammer remained illuminated.

Barely.

I frowned.

"...That wasn't there yesterday."

"It was. It simply couldn't awaken."

I looked back toward her.

"What does that mean?"

"It means..."

She walked toward one of the shelves before selecting an ancient scroll.

"...Your catalyst no longer distinguishes between sources."

She gently unrolled the parchment.

Ancient diagrams filled the faded paper.

Mana pathways.

Spell circles.

Weapons.

Catalysts.

I stepped closer.

"...You're saying..."

She pointed toward two streams drawn side by side.

"...Most catalysts reject incompatible mana."

Her finger moved farther down.

"They are designed around affinity. Fire. Earth. Water. Lightning. Wind. Dark. Light. Holy. Demonic. Gravity. Crono.

She tapped the parchment once.

"One."

Her finger shifted toward another illustration.

This time...

Two streams flowed together.

"...Rarely..."

She murmured.

"...Two."

Then...

She looked directly into my eyes.

"...Yours accepts all."

Silence.

"...That seems..."

I searched for the right word.

"...Convenient."

"No."

Her answer came instantly.

"It is dangerous."

"...Ah."

"There is a difference."

She rolled the scroll closed again.

"The revolver no longer filters your mana. It amplifies...You."

"...That's..."

I looked down at the weapon.

"...Honestly kind of terrifying."

"For anyone standing in front of it..."

She corrected.

"...Yes."

I slowly holstered it again.

"...Good to know."

She watched me for another long moment.

Then...

Without warning...

She reached forward.

Her palm rested lightly against the center of my chest.

"...Don't move."

"I'm beginning to notice that's a theme around here."

No response.

Her eyes closed.

Unlike Lady Shizuka...

Or Aldric...

No visible mana appeared.

No glowing circles.

No dramatic light.

Nothing.

She simply...

Stood there.

For nearly an entire minute.

The room became so quiet I could hear the breeze outside rustling the cedar branches.

Finally...

Her eyes opened.

Immediately.

She stepped back.

"...Remarkable."

"...Good remarkable?"

She didn't answer.

Instead...

She walked over to a nearby desk.

Picked up a brush.

Began writing.

Furiously.

Page after page.

Without looking at me once.

I stood there awkwardly.

"...Should I..."

Nothing.

"...Wait?"

Still nothing.

She continued writing.

I glanced toward the door.

Nobody.

Back toward her.

Still writing.

"...Lady Sayuri?"

Without lifting her eyes from the parchment, she responded.

"...Quiet."

"...Right."

Another five minutes passed.

Brush after brush became stained with ink.

Scrolls accumulated across the desk.

She filled diagrams.

Crossed them out.

Started again.

At one point she actually muttered to herself.

"...Impossible..."

Then immediately corrected it.

"...No. Exception."

Finally...

She set the brush down.

Exhaled slowly.

Then looked up at me.

"...I owe you an apology."

I blinked.

"...For what?"

"I expected to meet a reckless young mage."

She folded the scroll closed.

"Instead..."

She studied me thoughtfully.

"...I have met a medical anomaly."

"...That's..."

I scratched the back of my neck.

"...Oddly flattering."

"It should concern you."

"...Less flattering."

She nodded.

"Much."

She slowly approached once more.

This time...

There was unmistakable curiosity in her gaze.

Not suspicion.

Not caution.

The genuine excitement of a scholar who had just discovered something entirely new.

"...Tell me, Alex."

Her voice softened.

"When you died..."

I froze.

"...Yes?"

She looked directly into my eyes.

"...Did you remain dead...Or..."

She paused.

Choosing her words with extraordinary care.

"...Did something choose to return you?"

The question...

Sent a chill down my spine.

Because...

For the first time...

Someone had asked the question...

Exactly the way I'd been asking it in my own head.

The question lingered in the air.

I didn't answer immediately.

Mostly because...

I honestly wasn't sure.

"I..."

I rubbed the back of my neck.

"...Don't know."

She remained silent.

Waiting.

"I remember dying."

I said at last.

"I remember my heart stopping. My breathing stopped. I remember seeing my own body."

I swallowed.

"I remember talking to Haruto after I died. And..."

I looked down at my hands.

"I remember the presence. The one beyond the darkness. The one Haruto bowed to."

Lady Sayuri's ears twitched ever so slightly.

"But..."

I looked back up.

"I don't remember asking to come back. I don't remember making a deal. I didn't bargain. I didn't trade anything. I just..."

I frowned.

"...Woke up."

She nodded once.

"As I suspected."

"...You suspected?"

She slowly walked back toward her desk.

"Tell me."

She picked up another scroll.

"When you awakened. Were your wounds healed?"

"No."

"Were your bones repaired?"

"No."

"Were your mana pathways restored?"

"No."

She nodded again.

"So whatever returned you, did not restore you. It merely..."

She looked thoughtfully toward the window.

"...Resumed you."

That...

Wasn't a word I'd expected.

"...Resumed?"

She looked back at me.

"Think of a river. It flows. It stops. Then it continues."

She tilted her head.

"The water was never replaced. It simply..."

She made a small circular motion with one finger.

"...Continued."

I frowned thoughtfully.

"...That's..."

Actually...

That made a disturbing amount of sense.

"So... I wasn't resurrected?"

She was quiet for several moments.

Finally...

"I do not believe so."

"Then what happened?"

"I don't know."

That answer surprised me.

"You..."

I blinked.

"...Don't know?"

"No."

She said it without embarrassment.

"Nor does anyone else."

She calmly poured herself a cup of tea.

"I have studied life for nearly four centuries. I understand healing. I understand death. I understand the slow fading of the soul."

She took one quiet sip.

"...You..."

She looked at me over the rim of the cup.

"...Do not fit into any of them."

I sighed.

"...I'm starting to hear that a lot."

"As you should."

She answered matter of factly.

"You continue to be inconvenient."

"...Inconvenient?"

"To established medical knowledge."

"I've been called worse."

She almost smiled.

Almost.

Then...

She set the cup down.

"...Tell me. What was the first thing you felt after returning?"

I thought about it.

"...Pain."

"What else?"

"...Cold."

"What else?"

I frowned.

"...Confused."

"What else?"

I blinked.

"...You ask a lot of questions."

"What else?"

I let out a slow breath.

"...Kaede."

She paused.

"...Explain."

"The first thing I really remember, is I heard her voice. Then she hugged me. My first real thought..."

I smiled faintly.

"...Was trying not to scare her."

Lady Sayuri wrote something down.

Another note.

Then another.

Her brush never stopped moving.

"What did you feel when you first touched the First Tree again?"

More writing.

"Has your appetite changed?"

"Do you dream?"

"How often do you meditate?"

"Have your senses sharpened?"

"Have you experienced auditory hallucinations since returning?"

"...No."

"Visual?"

"...No."

"Unexplained mana fluctuations?"

"...Sometimes."

"How often?"

"I don't know."

"What time of day?"

"I haven't exactly been keeping notes."

"Perhaps you should."

I shifted awkwardly.

She didn't notice.

Or...

Didn't care.

Another scroll appeared.

Then another.

She began drawing diagrams.

My mana pathways.

The silver seed.

The corruption.

My eyes.

Everything.

She barely looked at me anymore.

Only occasionally asking another question.

"What did the beam feel like?"

"What did death smell like?"

"What emotional state preceded your realization?"

"What cadence did Haruto use while speaking?"

"How many breaths occurred between your collapse and cessation of heartbeat?"

I stared.

"...Lady Sayuri."

"Hm?"

"...I don't know."

"Estimate."

"I can't."

"Try."

"I literally died."

She nodded.

"I am aware."

"...Then why are you asking me to count breaths?"

"Because you were there."

"...For part of it."

She wrote something else.

"...Interesting."

"What is?"

"You become noticeably more sarcastic when mentally fatigued."

"...Seriously?"

"Confirmed."

I rubbed my face.

"...You're taking notes on my sarcasm?"

"It may prove relevant."

"I sincerely doubt that."

"So noted."

I looked toward the ceiling.

Then toward the open window.

Then back toward Lady Sayuri.

Who was now measuring...

Something.

With a ruler.

"...What are you doing?"

"Comparing your responses."

"To what?"

"My previous hypotheses."

"...How many hypotheses do you have?"

She didn't answer.

Instead...

She opened a cabinet.

Inside...

Were stacks.

Upon stacks.

Of scrolls.

Hundreds of them.

Each carefully labeled.

Each filled.

She selected one.

Then another.

Then five more.

I stared.

"...Those are all for me?"

"No."

She answered.

"I've only filled three."

"...Only..."

She didn't seem to notice the concern creeping into my voice.

"Though..."

She looked thoughtfully at the growing pile.

"I may require another cabinet."

"...Lady Sayuri."

"Hm?"

"I've been here..."

I looked toward the window.

"...How long?"

She glanced at a small water clock.

"Three hours."

"...Three..."

I blinked.

"...Hours?"

"Yes."

"...We've been doing this for three hours?"

She looked genuinely puzzled.

"...Of course."

"...Why?"

"Because I'm not finished."

"...Not finished?"

"No."

She reached for another blank scroll.

My eye twitched.

Just a little.

She dipped her brush into fresh ink.

"...Now then."

She smiled politely.

"I would like to discuss your childhood."

Something inside me...

Finally snapped.

I threw both hands into the air.

"...Lady Sayuri!"

For the first time...

She actually stopped writing.

"...Yes?"

I took a slow...

Very slow...

Breath.

"...With all due respect..."

I gestured at the mountain of parchment surrounding her.

"...I've answered enough questions to qualify for three medical degrees..."

I pointed toward the growing pile of scrolls.

"...You've documented my mana. My injuries. My death. My sarcasm..."

I pointed accusingly at one particular scroll.

"...Apparently my breathing..."

Then finally at myself.

"I'm held together by stubbornness, cracked ribs, and what I'm beginning to suspect is pure spite!"

The room fell silent.

"...Can..."

I rubbed both hands down my face.

"...Can I please..."

I emphasized the word.

"...ask you a question..."

The room became perfectly still.

Lady Sayuri blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Her brush hovered above the parchment.

A single drop of ink fell onto the page.

Neither of us spoke.

For several long seconds...

She simply stared at me.

Then...

To my complete surprise...

The corners of her lips twitched upward.

Not much.

Just enough to notice.

"...Yes."

She calmly set the brush aside.

"You may."

I let out the longest sigh I'd breathed all morning.

"...Thank the Gods."

Lady Sayuri folded her hands neatly within her sleeves.

"I was beginning to wonder how long it would take."

I frowned.

"...What?"

She tilted her head.

"I intentionally continued."

"...You..."

I blinked.

"...You did that on purpose?"

"Yes."

"...Why?"

"Because I wished to observe where your patience ended."

I stared at her.

"...You're kidding."

"No."

"You've been interrogating me for three hours, as a test?"

"Partially."

My eye twitched.

"...Lady Sayuri."

"Yes?"

"...You're lucky my ribs hurt."

One of her ears flicked.

"I've heard that before."

"I somehow doubt that."

She gave a tiny shrug.

"It was from Lady Shizuka."

I couldn't help it.

I laughed.

"...That..."

I rubbed my forehead.

"...Actually sounds believable."

The tension that had built over the last several hours finally began to fade.

Lady Sayuri reached for her teacup instead of another scroll.

A welcome improvement.

She took a slow sip.

Then looked at me.

"...Your question."

"Right."

I leaned back slightly.

Carefully.

"So..."

I looked directly into her mismatched eyes.

"Why me?"

She remained silent.

I continued.

"I understand why Haruto tested me. I understand why the First Tree allowed me to enter. I even understand why the corruption latched onto me."

I spread my hands.

"What I don't understand, is why everyone keeps acting like I'm special. I'm not. I'm just..."

I searched for the right words.

"...A guy. I make mistakes. I get angry. I panic. I've failed people. I've lost fights. I've nearly gotten myself killed more times than I care to admit."

I looked down at my hands.

"...Hell, I did die."

I looked back up.

"So why? Why me?"

Lady Sayuri didn't answer immediately.

Instead...

She studied me.

Not as a healer.

Not as a scholar.

Simply...

As a person.

Finally...

She spoke.

"...Do you know what every person who has entered this room before you has asked?"

I shook my head.

"They asked..."

She began counting on her fingers.

"'How do I become stronger?' 'Can you heal me?' 'Can you make me live longer?' 'How do I defeat my enemies?'"

She lowered her hand.

"Do you know what you asked?"

I frowned.

"...Why me?"

"No."

She smiled faintly.

"You asked, 'Can I ask you a question?'"

I blinked.

"...That's different?"

"Very."

She leaned back slightly.

"You have spent three hours answering questions. When given the opportunity to ask one..."

She looked directly into my eyes.

"...You did not ask for power. You did not ask for immortality. You did not ask how to control your new abilities. You asked..."

Her expression softened.

"...For understanding."

Silence.

I hadn't thought about it that way.

"I..."

She raised one finger.

"I am not finished."

"...Right."

She stood.

Walking slowly toward one of the paper windows overlooking the valley below.

Children laughed in the distance.

Wind stirred the trees.

The hidden village continued its daily life.

"You asked me, 'Why me?'"

She looked out across the mountains.

"That question assumes, that someone chose."

I frowned.

"...Didn't they?"

She looked back at me.

"I do not know."

"You said that earlier."

"I did."

She nodded once.

"And I meant it."

She slowly walked back toward me.

"But..."

She stopped only a few feet away.

"I believe you continue asking the wrong question."

I sighed dramatically.

"Everybody keeps saying that."

"Because it is true."

She crossed her arms.

"You ask..."

"'Why was I chosen?'"

She shook her head.

"I asked, 'Why did you survive?'"

I opened my mouth.

Then closed it again.

She continued.

"Thousands could have entered that trial. Hundreds may have possessed greater magical talent. Dozens almost certainly possessed greater martial skill."

She gestured toward me.

"And yet... You returned."

I frowned.

"You're asking the same thing."

"No."

She answered immediately.

"I am asking something entirely different."

She stepped closer.

"So answer me. When Haruto offered you knowledge, what did you seek?"

"...Understanding."

"When the corruption offered you power, what did you do?"

"I refused."

"When you realized you could wield darkness, did you embrace it?"

I shook my head.

"No."

"When you realized you could wield both, did you abandon the light?"

"No."

She nodded.

"When you died..."

Her voice became quieter.

"What was your last thought?"

I didn't hesitate.

"...Kaede."

"And not yourself."

"No."

She smiled.

"Exactly."

I still looked confused.

Lady Sayuri chuckled softly.

A genuine chuckle this time.

"Alex."

"Yes?"

"I have lived for over four hundred years. I have treated kings. Assassins. Generals. Sages. Heroes. Villains. I have met men capable of splitting mountains. Women capable of calming storms."

She paused.

"Do you know what every single one of them had in common?"

I shook my head.

"They believed, they were important."

Silence.

She looked directly into my eyes.

"You don't."

"I..."

I frowned.

"I've never really thought of myself that way."

"I know."

Her smile became warmer.

"And that..."

She gently tapped the center of my chest with one finger.

"...is precisely why you concern me."

I blinked.

"...Concern you?"

"Yes. Because humility is admirable."

She sighed quietly.

"But there comes a point, where humility becomes blindness."

I stared at her.

"You readily see the worth of others. You defend them.vYou protect them.vYou encourage them."

Her finger remained lightly against my chest.

"But when asked your own value..."

She smiled sadly.

"You become silent."

The room felt oddly quiet.

I opened my mouth.

Nothing came out.

She noticed.

"Exactly."

She withdrew her hand.

"That..."

She folded her sleeves once more.

"...is an injury."

I looked up.

"...What?"

She nodded.

"Not one I can heal."

"...You think I don't value myself."

"I know you don't."

The words weren't cruel.

They weren't accusatory.

They were simply...

Matter of fact.

Like telling someone they had a broken arm.

She walked back toward her desk.

This time...

Without picking up her brush.

"Broken bones mend. Mana pathways recover. Even death..."

She looked thoughtfully toward the First Tree outside.

"...Apparently...is negotiable."

A tiny smile crossed her face.

"But learning..."

She looked back at me.

"...that your own life has value..."

She shook her head gently.

"...That is a lesson no healer can teach."

For the first time since entering her sanctuary...

I didn't have a response.

Because...

Part of me wondered...

If she was right.

The room remained silent.

Not awkwardly.

Patiently.

Lady Sayuri didn't rush me.

She didn't continue lecturing.

She simply walked back toward the open window, looking out over the valley below.

The breeze stirred her long golden hair, carrying a few loose strands across her shoulder.

Outside, I could hear birds singing somewhere among the cedar trees.

Life continued.

As though the conversation hadn't just flipped my world upside down.

"...You know."

I finally spoke.

"I don't think anyone's ever called me out like that before."

Lady Sayuri smiled faintly.

"They have."

I frowned.

"What?"

"They simply used different words."

She looked over her shoulder.

"'Stop being reckless. Think before you act. You don't always have to be the one to do it. Let someone help you.'"

Each sentence hit like a hammer.

Because...

I'd heard every single one before.

Roland.

Eleanor.

Marcus.

Andy.

Doc.

Even Lady Shizuka had said something similar only yesterday.

Lady Sayuri continued.

"You heard their words."

She turned to face me fully.

"But you never understood what they were trying to say."

"...Which was?"

She folded her hands inside her sleeves.

"They weren't criticizing your courage. They were grieving your disregard for yourself."

Silence.

I looked away.

"...I never thought of it like that."

"I know."

Her answer wasn't mocking.

If anything...

It sounded almost...

Sad.

"You've spent your life measuring your own worth by what you can do for others."

She walked slowly across the room.

"You save someone. You smile. You fail to save someone. You blame yourself."

She stopped beside one of the shelves.

"That..."

She gently brushed her fingers across a collection of ancient medical texts.

"...is not the mindset of a healer."

I raised an eyebrow.

"...It isn't?"

"No."

She pulled a weathered scroll free before carefully setting it upon the table.

"A true healer understands something very important."

She looked directly at me.

"Sometimes people die."

The words struck harder than I'd expected.

"I know."

"No."

She shook her head gently.

"You know the words."

She tapped the scroll.

"You do not yet understand them."

I frowned.

"What do you mean?"

She slowly unrolled the parchment.

It wasn't filled with anatomy.

Or mana diagrams.

Instead...

It contained names.

Hundreds of names.

Written with painstaking care.

I stared at it.

"...What is this?"

"My failures."

I looked up.

She met my gaze without hesitation.

"Every person I could not save."

Silence.

"...Every..."

I looked back down.

The scroll seemed endless.

Some names had dates.

Others had small notes written beside them.

"Too late."

"Infection."

"Collapsed lung."

"Mana poisoning."

"Child."

"Could not stop the bleeding."

My throat tightened.

"...You kept all of them."

"I remember all of them."

She corrected softly.

"The scroll merely helps others remember after I'm gone."

I couldn't take my eyes off it.

"...How many?"

"I stopped counting after two thousand."

I slowly exhaled.

"...God..."

"No."

She shook her head.

"Merely time."

The room fell silent again.

Finally...

She carefully rolled the scroll closed.

"I cried for every one of them."

She said it so casually.

So honestly.

"I questioned myself. I blamed myself. I wondered what I could have done differently."

She smiled sadly.

"Eventually, I realized something."

I waited.

"I am a healer."

She rested one hand upon the ancient scroll.

"Not a goddess."

I swallowed.

"If I continued believing every death was my fault..."

She looked directly into my eyes.

"...I would have stopped saving the ones I still could."

The words lingered.

Long after she'd finished speaking.

Because...

They reminded me of someone.

Me.

I looked down at my hands.

"I..."

My voice felt strangely quiet.

"There are people I couldn't save."

"I know."

"I still think about them."

"I know."

"I wonder if I'd done something different..."

"I know."

"I wonder if I'd moved faster..."

"I know."

"If I'd made a different decision..."

"I know."

Every answer remained the same.

"I know."

Finally...

She stepped closer.

Close enough that I could see the faint silver strands hidden among her golden hair.

"Alex."

I looked up.

"What would you tell Kaede, if she blamed herself for her mother's death?"

I answered immediately.

"It wasn't her fault."

"What would you tell Roland, if one of his companions died protecting him?"

"That he couldn't control everything."

"What would you tell Eleanor, if she lost a patient despite doing everything she could?"

"That she did everything possible."

Lady Sayuri nodded once.

"And what would you tell yourself?"

Silence.

I opened my mouth.

Nothing came out.

Again.

She smiled gently.

"You see?"

I slowly laughed.

Not because anything was funny.

Because...

I'd walked right into that one.

"...That wasn't fair."

"No."

She agreed.

"It wasn't."

She turned away again.

"But it was necessary."

I rubbed both hands over my face.

"...You're really good at this."

"I've had four centuries of practice."

"...Right."

She walked toward a small cabinet near the back of the room.

This one wasn't filled with scrolls.

It held small ceramic jars.

Bundles of dried herbs.

Tiny crystal vials filled with liquids of every imaginable color.

She selected three jars before returning.

Without a word...

She knelt in front of me.

I instinctively tensed.

"What are you doing?"

"Treating my patient."

I blinked.

"...You're just now getting around to that?"

She gave me a perfectly flat look.

"I needed to diagnose him first."

"...Fair."

She opened the first jar.

The smell immediately filled the room.

Mint.

Pine.

Something floral I couldn't identify.

"This will sting."

"I've heard that before."

"It will still sting."

Before I could respond...

She pressed the herbal paste gently against one of the deeper cuts near my shoulder.

"...Son of..."

The burning sensation hit instantly.

I clenched my jaw.

"...Yep."

I hissed.

"...Still stings."

Lady Sayuri continued applying the medicine as though she hadn't heard me.

"It means the herbs are working."

"That's exactly what every healer says."

"Because it is true."

"I still don't like it."

"No patient ever does."

Despite the burning...

I noticed something almost immediately.

The aching around the wound eased.

Not vanished.

Eased.

The swelling began to recede.

"...Huh."

She glanced up.

"What?"

"...It actually works."

One elegant eyebrow rose.

"...Were you expecting snake oil?"

"I've met some questionable healers."

She couldn't help the tiny smile that appeared.

"I would imagine."

For the next several minutes...

Neither of us spoke much.

She simply worked.

Methodically.

Patiently.

Cleaning wounds.

Applying salves.

Wrapping fresh bandages.

Checking the healing I'd already performed with my own magic.

She moved with the effortless confidence of someone who had done this tens of thousands of times.

Eventually...

She tied off the final bandage around my shoulder.

"There."

I experimentally rolled the arm.

Still sore.

But...

Much better.

I looked at her.

"...Thank you."

Lady Sayuri began putting away her supplies.

"You are welcome."

She paused before closing the cabinet.

Without looking at me, she added quietly,

"...Do try not to die again."

I smiled.

"I'll do my best."

She looked over one shoulder.

"I know."

A small smile finally reached her lips.

"...That..."

She said.

"...is why I'm worried."

I couldn't help but chuckle.

"...Here."

Lady Sayuri looked up from the cabinet as I reached into one of the larger pouches attached to my belt.

"I'd like you to have something."

She watched curiously as I carefully pulled out a thick, hardbound book.

The cover was worn from years of use.

The edges of the pages were slightly frayed.

Several colored tabs poked out between different chapters, evidence that it had been referenced countless times.

I handled it with surprising care before walking over to the low table beside her.

Setting it down gently.

"This..."

I rested a hand atop the cover.

"...is from my world."

Lady Sayuri's eyes lingered on the unfamiliar binding.

"...A book?"

"It is."

I smiled faintly.

"A medical textbook."

She looked back up at me.

"...Medical?"

I nodded.

"It contains centuries of accumulated medical knowledge."

I carefully opened the first few pages.

Anatomical illustrations covered nearly every sheet.

Bones.

Muscles.

Organs.

The circulatory system.

The nervous system.

Every illustration had been painstakingly labeled.

Lady Sayuri stepped closer.

For the first time since we'd met...

I saw genuine surprise spread across her face.

"...Remarkable..."

Her fingers hovered just above the page.

Not touching it.

Simply admiring it.

"It covers anatomy..."

I continued.

"Physiology. Diseases. Infections. Trauma care. Surgical procedures. Rehabilitation. Mental health. Even illnesses that may not exist in this world."

I smiled sheepishly.

"I honestly don't know how much of it will apply here."

I looked toward her.

"But, if there's even one idea inside that helps save someone's life someday, I think it's worth having."

Lady Sayuri remained silent.

Her eyes slowly traveled across the detailed illustrations.

"...These drawings..."

She whispered.

"...They're extraordinarily precise."

"They're based on centuries of study."

I admitted.

"My world didn't have mana. So we became... rather obsessed with understanding the body itself."

Her gaze never left the page.

"I can see that."

She carefully turned another page.

Then another.

The section on the heart.

Then the lungs.

Then the brain.

Each time...

She lingered longer.

Studying every illustration as though committing it to memory.

"...There are structures here..."

She murmured.

"...that we have only theorized."

I smiled.

"I figured there might be."

After a few moments...

I reached into another pouch.

"And..."

I placed a second object beside the book.

A simple black pen.

Lady Sayuri looked at it curiously.

"...What is this?"

"A pen."

She tilted her head.

"...Another writing instrument?"

"Sort of."

I picked it up again before pressing the small clicker on top.

The tip extended.

Several of Lady Sayuri's ears twitched.

"...Interesting."

"It doesn't need ink and a brush every few minutes."

I handed it to her.

"It stores its own."

She accepted it cautiously.

Turning it over in her fingers.

Studying the unfamiliar object from every angle.

I smiled.

"Go ahead."

She looked at me.

"Try writing."

Lady Sayuri lowered the tip to a blank sheet of parchment.

A smooth black line appeared instantly.

Her eyes widened almost imperceptibly.

She wrote another.

Then another.

No inkstone.

No brush.

No interruption.

Just...

Writing.

"...Extraordinary."

She whispered.

I chuckled.

"It also lets you write a lot smaller."

To demonstrate, I took another blank sheet and quickly filled one corner with tiny, neat handwriting.

"See?"

She compared it to her brush.

Then back to the pen.

"...Remarkably efficient."

"I figured someone who writes as much as you do might appreciate it."

She looked at the mountain of scrolls surrounding her.

Then...

Back at the pen.

"...Perhaps."

I laughed.

"Only perhaps?"

A tiny smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

"...I have become accustomed to my brushes."

"I figured. But..."

I gestured toward the textbook.

"...I also figured the greatest healer I've ever met deserves the best tools I can give her."

For several long moments...

Lady Sayuri simply stood there.

The book resting beneath one hand.

The pen held gently in the other.

When she finally looked up...

The scholarly curiosity in her eyes remained.

But now...

Something else had joined it.

Gratitude.

A quiet, genuine gratitude.

"...Alex."

"Yeah?"

She inclined her head.

Not as a noble.

Not as a healer.

Simply as a scholar acknowledging another person who respected knowledge.

"...Thank you."

Lady Sayuri continued looking at the textbook for another minute.

Not reading.

Simply...

Thinking.

Finally, she closed the cover with surprising gentleness.

"I believe..."

She rested one hand upon it.

"...this may occupy me for quite some time."

I chuckled.

"I figured."

"There are over a thousand pages."

"There are."

"...And the illustrations alone may require months to study."

"I won't spoil the ending."

Her mismatched eyes slowly lifted toward me.

"...Books have endings?"

I grinned.

"Most of them."

"...Curious."

I laughed.

"You've never heard that joke before?"

"No."

"I might've just become the first person in history to tell a four hundred year old a new joke."

"...That appears to be correct."

The image alone made me smile.

Somehow...

That felt like an accomplishment.

Lady Sayuri carefully picked up the pen once more before placing it beside the book.

"I suspect..."

She said thoughtfully.

"...I shall have many questions after reading this."

"I figured."

She looked at me.

"You will answer them."

I sighed dramatically.

"...There it is."

"What?"

"The catch. I was wondering when it'd show up."

One of her ears twitched.

"...Is that a complaint?"

"No."

I smiled.

"...Just an observation."

She gave the faintest nod.

"Good."

As I turned toward the doorway, preparing to leave...

My eyes drifted toward the open window.

Beyond it...

I could see the long stone staircase winding down the mountain.

Four hundred and twelve steps.

My ribs immediately protested just looking at them.

"...You know..."

I muttered.

Lady Sayuri looked up.

"Hm?"

"You should really get an elevator."

Silence.

She blinked once.

"...A what?"

I looked back.

"...An elevator."

Her head tilted ever so slightly.

"...I am unfamiliar with the term."

I rubbed the back of my neck.

"...Right. Different world."

She waited patiently.

"So..."

I walked over to one of the nearby tables.

Picking up a spare sheet of parchment.

"Imagine this."

I quickly sketched a rough rectangle.

"This is a platform."

I added short walls around three sides.

"Not a room. Just a sturdy wooden platform."

I drew a roof supported by four posts.

"Then..."

I sketched a large wheel above it.

"A pulley."

Lady Sayuri stepped beside me.

Watching every stroke.

"The platform hangs from thick ropes."

I continued drawing.

"The ropes pass over the pulley."

I sketched another rope extending downward.

"And on the other end..."

I drew a heavy stone block.

"A counterweight."

She folded her hands into her sleeves.

"...Continue."

"The counterweight does most of the lifting. So instead of carrying everything up four hundred steps..."

I gestured toward the mountain outside.

"...You load supplies onto the platform. People, or animals, pull one rope. The counterweight helps offset the weight. The platform goes up. Then down. Back and forth."

I added a simple wooden brake beside the wheel.

"You'd also want a locking mechanism. So it can't accidentally fall."

Lady Sayuri stared silently at the drawing.

I continued.

"It doesn't need to be complicated. No gears. No engines. No electricity. Just good timber. Strong rope. A solid axle. And a properly balanced counterweight."

Silence.

Long silence.

"...Lady Sayuri?"

She reached forward.

Taking the parchment.

Studying every line.

"...Interesting."

She murmured.

Her eyes slowly moved between each sketch.

"...Very interesting."

I smiled.

"It'd save everybody's knees."

She ignored the joke.

Instead...

She quietly walked toward another table.

Picked up her own brush.

Then...

To my surprise...

She began improving the drawing.

Her strokes were elegant.

Precise.

Within moments, my rough sketch had become a proper architectural draft.

She reinforced support beams.

Adjusted the pulley placement.

Redesigned the counterweight housing.

Even added protective roofing over the mechanism.

I watched.

"...Well..."

I folded my arms.

"...Mine looked like a child drew it."

She didn't even look up.

"It did."

"...Thanks."

"It conveyed the concept."

She added another note.

"That is what matters."

I couldn't argue with that.

She tapped one section of the drawing.

"...This support."

"Hm?"

"It would fail."

I leaned closer.

"...You're right. The load would twist."

She nodded.

"I would reinforce it here."

Another few lines.

The entire structure suddenly made far more sense.

"...Okay."

I admitted.

"Yours is way better."

"I should hope so."

She calmly continued writing.

"I have been designing buildings longer than your nation has existed."

I blinked.

"...That's..."

I thought about Earth's history.

"...Actually probably true."

She finally looked up.

"If constructed properly..."

She glanced toward the window.

"...It would reduce travel considerably."

"Exactly."

"It'd also make transporting patients easier."

That made her pause.

She slowly looked back down at the drawing.

Then...

Toward the staircase outside.

For the first time...

I saw her considering it not as an architect.

But as a healer.

"...Injured patients..."

She murmured.

"...Would not need to climb."

I nodded.

"Neither would elderly people. Or supplies. Or books."

That last one finally got her attention.

"...Books."

"Lots of books."

She looked toward the shelves surrounding us.

There were thousands.

Perhaps tens of thousands.

Most had almost certainly been carried up those stairs by hand.

One...

At...

A...

Time.

Lady Sayuri slowly closed her eyes.

"...Four hundred years..."

She whispered.

"...I've climbed those stairs."

I smiled.

"...Exactly."

Her eyes opened again.

"...I dislike you."

I laughed.

"No you don't."

"...No."

The faintest smile crossed her lips.

"...I dislike that I didn't think of it first."

I couldn't help laughing harder.

"...Now that I believe."

She carefully rolled up the improved blueprint.

Not discarding it.

Keeping it.

"...I shall speak with the village carpenters."

She looked toward me.

"If this functions as you describe..."

She nodded thoughtfully.

"...It may become one of the most useful things anyone has ever brought to this mountain."

I shrugged modestly.

"...Honestly? I was mostly thinking about my ribs."

For just a heartbeat...

Lady Sayuri stared at me.

Then...

A quiet laugh escaped her.

Not restrained.

Not polite.

A genuine laugh.

Warm.

Rich.

Unforced.

It echoed softly through the sanctuary.

Outside the open window, two attendants walking past stopped in their tracks.

One slowly looked toward the other.

"...Did, Lady Sayuri just laugh?"

The other simply stood there.

Speechless.

Inside...

I smiled.

"...There it is again."

Lady Sayuri composed herself, though the smile lingered.

"...What?"

"That's the third time."

She raised an eyebrow.

"...Third?"

"I've managed to make you laugh three times."

She considered that for a moment.

Then gave a single, dignified nod.

"...It would appear, you are an unusually persistent patient."

"And you're an unusually stubborn doctor."

For the first time since we'd met...

She didn't deny it.

Instead...

She carefully rolled the blueprint into a neat tube before placing it beside the medical textbook I'd given her.

The two looked oddly fitting together.

One...

Centuries of medical knowledge from another world.

The other...

A simple sketch of a wooden platform and pulley.

Neither was magical.

Neither was particularly glamorous.

Yet both had the potential to change lives.

Lady Sayuri rested her fingertips lightly atop the blueprint.

"...Simple."

She murmured.

I nodded.

"Most good ideas usually are."

She glanced toward me.

"...Is that another saying from your world?"

"It is."

She gave a thoughtful hum.

"I approve."

"I'll write that down somewhere."

"You won't."

I smiled.

"...You're right."

She quietly walked toward the open window overlooking the long stone staircase.

The mountain breeze gently stirred the sleeves of her robe.

For several moments...

She simply stood there.

Looking down.

Four hundred and twelve steps stretched down the mountainside.

Every one of them had been climbed countless times.

Patients.

Children.

Scholars.

Monks.

Builders.

Her.

Every single day.

"...How many books..."

She whispered almost to herself.

"...Have been carried up these stairs..."

Her voice grew quieter.

"...One at a time..."

I didn't answer.

Because I knew she wasn't asking me.

She was remembering.

Four centuries of memories.

Four centuries of climbing.

Four centuries of believing that was simply the way things had to be.

Eventually...

She looked back toward me.

"...Your world."

"Hm?"

"It invents unusual things."

I laughed.

"...You have no idea."

She folded her hands behind her back.

"...Tell me another."

"...Another invention?"

She nodded.

"...One that has improved everyday life."

I thought for a moment.

There were...

Thousands.

Millions.

Trying to explain electricity would probably take all week.

Cars?

No.

Computers?

Definitely not.

Then...

An idea came to mind.

"...Paper clips."

Silence.

She blinked.

"...Paper...Clips."

I nodded.

"They hold paper together."

She stared at me.

"...That is your example?"

I shrugged innocently.

"They're surprisingly useful."

She slowly closed her eyes.

"...You have machines capable of recording memories."

"Yep."

"You possess books containing centuries of accumulated medical knowledge."

"Yep."

"And your next example..."

She looked at me with the flattest expression I'd seen yet.

"...is a bent piece of metal."

"...Yep."

Several long seconds passed.

Then...

She pinched the bridge of her nose.

"...You truly are impossible."

I grinned.

"I've been told."

She shook her head.

"I shall refrain from asking further."

"Probably for the best."

A soft knock interrupted us.

One of the elderly attendants slid the door open.

"My Lady."

Lady Sayuri turned.

"What is it?"

"The village carpenters have arrived."

"...Already?"

"Lady Shizuka informed them you wished to see them."

Lady Sayuri nodded once.

"Very well."

The attendant bowed before stepping aside.

Three Kitsune entered.

All of them wore work clothes stained with sawdust and resin.

Each carried measuring rods tucked beneath one arm.

The oldest among them immediately bowed deeply.

"My Lady."

Lady Sayuri gestured toward the blueprint.

"Come."

They approached cautiously.

Curiosity quickly replacing formality.

She unrolled the drawing across the table.

"This..."

She said simply.

"...Can you build it?"

The eldest carpenter leaned over the sketch.

His brow furrowed.

He slowly traced one finger along the counterweight.

Then the pulley.

Then the guide rails.

Several minutes passed.

No one spoke.

Finally...

He straightened.

"...Yes."

Lady Sayuri tilted her head.

"...Without hesitation?"

He nodded.

"The principles are familiar."

He pointed toward the counterweight.

"We use similar balances when raising temple bells."

His finger shifted toward the pulley.

"And these..."

"...we already use for lifting timber."

He looked back at the drawing.

"...No single piece is unfamiliar."

He smiled.

"...We've simply never thought to combine them."

I smiled to myself.

That...

Was usually how innovation worked.

The carpenter looked toward me.

"...Was this your idea?"

"It was."

He bowed respectfully.

"...Ingenious."

I rubbed the back of my neck.

"...Honestly..."

"I was mostly trying to avoid walking up all those stairs again."

The three carpenters looked at one another.

Then...

Burst into laughter.

Even Lady Sayuri's shoulders shook slightly.

The eldest carpenter wiped at one eye.

"...The greatest inventions..."

He chuckled.

"...often begin with laziness."

"I prefer..."

I corrected.

"...Efficiency."

He pointed toward me.

"Exactly what a lazy man would say."

That earned another round of laughter.

I raised both hands in surrender.

"...You got me."

Lady Sayuri watched the exchange quietly.

Her expression thoughtful.

Then...

She looked toward the carpenters.

"Begin construction."

The eldest bowed.

"Immediately."

She added one final instruction.

"And..."

She looked briefly toward me.

"...Ensure the platform is large enough to carry patients lying down."

The carpenter's expression immediately became more serious.

"...Of course."

He carefully rolled up the blueprint.

Holding it almost reverently.

"My Lady."

He bowed once more before leading the others from the sanctuary.

As the doors slid closed...

Lady Sayuri looked out over the mountain again.

"...By tomorrow..."

She murmured.

"...Work will begin."

I smiled.

"Glad to hear it."

She looked toward me.

"...Do you realize..."

"What?"

"...That in a single morning..."

She gestured toward the medical textbook.

"...You have altered four centuries of medical study..."

Then toward the blueprint.

"...And perhaps four centuries of daily life."

I blinked.

"I..."

Honestly...

I hadn't thought of it that way.

"I was just trying to help."

"I know."

She smiled gently.

"That..."

She folded her hands into her sleeves once more.

"...is becoming a habit."

I laughed softly.

"...Guess so."

She regarded me for another long moment.

Then, with a thoughtful expression, she said,

"...Alex."

"Yeah?"

"When your ribs have healed..."

She glanced toward the shelves overflowing with scrolls and books.

"...Return."

I raised an eyebrow.

"...For another examination?"

A tiny smile appeared.

"...No."

She rested one hand on the medical textbook.

"...For tea."

That surprised me more than anything else she'd said that morning.

I smiled.

"...I'd like that."

She inclined her head just slightly.

"...As would I."
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A/N: And done. kuwebby2, what do you think?