Two months passed.
Not dramatically. Not with some epic montage.
Just… days stacking on top of each other until I stopped counting.
I stood in the middle of the clinic, hands on my knees, breathing hard while sweat dripped onto the floor. My body felt tired in that familiar way like it hated me, but had accepted its fate.
When I caught my reflection in the glass cabinet, I blinked.
"…Huh."
Before, I'd been skinny. Not the cool kind—more like if a strong wind hits me, I might fold skinny. All bones, no presence.
Now?
Still skinny.
But… different.
My arms were tighter. My posture didn't scream "free victim" anymore. I didn't look strong but I didn't look helpless either.
That was progress. Probably.
CLINK.
The clinic door opened
.
Nannie walked in, took one look at me, and nodded like he'd just checked something off a mental list.
"You're good enough," he said. "Good enough to try being a Fixer."
"Wow," I said between breaths. "That's… reassuring. 'Good enough.'"
He ignored me.
I scratched my head. "I mean, I've seen Fixers. Real ones. I'm pretty sure some of them could snap me in half by accident."
"Yeah," Nannie replied. "Most of them could."
"…You're not helping."
He stepped closer, arms crossed. "You didn't quit. You didn't complain much. And you're still alive."
"That's a really low bar."
"And yet, many people fail it."
I sighed.
"Haha…" I rubbed my neck. "Guess that means I passed the 'not dead' exam."
Nannie smirked. "Exactly."
He glanced at me again. "Relax. You're not strong. But you're not useless. That's enough for the test."
That… weirdly helped.
I clenched my fist, feeling the calluses I'd earned the hard way. "…Yeah. I guess I can work with that."
I pulled on my clothes, trying not to think too hard about what came next.
"So," I asked, "today's the big day?"
"Hana Association," Nannie said. "Don't embarrass me."
"No promises."
A short while later, I stood in front of a massive white building.
And I mean massive.
Clean walls. Sharp edges. No cracks. No stains. It looked so out of place in the
Backstreets that I half-expected it to get mugged.
Above the entrance was a symbol I'd seen everywhere over the past two months.
Hana Association.
The place that decided if you were officially allowed to risk your life for money.
Fixers walked in and out like it was just another office job. Different uniforms.
Different vibes. Some looked bored. Others looked scary in that calm way.
I swallowed.
"…Alright," I muttered. "Let's see how badly this goes."
I took a breath, straightened my back, and walked toward the entrance.
As the doors opened, cool air hit my face.
If I fail…
I shook my head.
"Eh," I said to myself. "I'll worry about that later."
And with that, I stepped inside Hana Association.
hoping I didn't immediately regret it.