By the time the twin moons of Ares had climbed high into the night sky, the clearing had been transformed. Haruto had dragged the Grayha corpses away from the camp, their blood already attracting buzzing, insect-like scavengers. He had started a fire, its cheerful crackle a small defiance against the encroaching darkness and the alien sounds of the forest. He sat with his back against a smooth-barked tree, methodically cleaning his plasma pistol while the woman slept soundly beside the fire, wrapped in his spare thermal cloak.
Her breathing was deep and even now. Akari's constant stream of data confirmed the nanites were working efficiently, having moved on from repairing the internal damage to slowly knitting bone back together.
**
"Good enough," Haruto murmured. Communication would be key.
A few hours later, the woman began to stir. Her eyes opened, blinking in the firelight. She sat up slowly, a look of profound confusion on her face. She looked at her arm, which should have been shattered, and moved it without pain. She looked down at her leg, which was still a mess of torn fabric and dried blood, but the deep, throbbing agony was gone. She felt… whole.
Her gaze fell on Haruto, who watched her silently, his pistol now holstered. Fear warred with awe in her eyes.
"Who… you… are?" she asked, her voice raspy. The words were strange, the syllables unfamiliar.
Akari instantly fed a translation into Haruto's mind: **
"My name is Haruto," he replied, speaking slowly and clearly. "I am a friend."
The woman flinched, looking around for the source of the disembodied voice. Seeing no one else, her eyes widened as she looked back at Haruto. Was this man speaking directly into her mind? Was he a sorcerer?
"I am Himari," she said, her voice a little stronger. "You… saved me. That magic… what was it?" **
Haruto paused. How could he possibly explain nanotechnology? "It is not magic," he said carefully. "It is… a tool. A way of healing."
**
Himari clearly didn't understand. To her, there was no difference. "A healing method of the gods, then. No mortal cleric has such power."
Before Haruto could formulate a response, the sound of snapping twigs from the edge of the clearing put him on instant alert. He was on his feet in a fluid motion, his hand on his pistol.
Two men burst into the firelight. They were dressed in the same style of leather armor as Himari and carried longswords, their faces etched with exhaustion and worry. They skidded to a halt when they saw the scene: their princess, alive, sitting by a fire with a strangely dressed man.
"Princess!" the older of the two men cried out in relief, before his eyes narrowed with suspicion, his gaze locking onto Haruto. "Step away from her, demon!"
**
"They are my guards," Himari said quickly, getting to her feet. "They mean no harm." She turned to the men. "Hold! This man saved my life!"
Despite her words, the guards advanced, their swords raised. They saw only a potential threat, an unknown variable who had somehow appeared and gotten close to their charge. They had seen what the Grayha had done to the rest of their convoy; they weren't taking any chances.
Haruto stood his ground, not reaching for his weapon. He met their hostile glares with a calm, analytical gaze. They were tired, scared, and operating on instinct. He could end them both before they took two more steps, but that wasn't the goal.
He had just found the first friendly human on this world. The last thing he wanted to do was kill her friends. The two swordsmen fanned out, preparing to attack him from two sides, their steel blades glinting in the firelight.