Room 302

"Service entrance," Ren said, adjusting the black surgical mask that covered half his face. He pointed to a side ramp where delivery trucks were unloading boxes of medical supplies. "My dad says security there is minimal on weekends. They only check badges if you look lost."

"We look lost," Mei whispered, her voice muffled by her white mask. She was clutching Kaito's coat sleeve.

"No," Ren corrected, straightening his posture. "We look like we belong. Act like you're bored and late for something important. No one questions bored people."

Kaito adjusted his backpack, which contained a change of clothes for Hina (in case she got sick) and water bottles.

"Let's go. Operation Lazarus."

"Lazarus?" Hina asked as they started walking.

"The guy who came back from the dead in the Bible," Kaito muttered. "Seemed appropriate."

Hina touched the ring in her pocket. She wasn't wearing it on her finger to avoid drawing attention with the silver's shine, but the proximity of the cold metal was both a comfort and a threat.

They passed the loading dock. A security guard was clipboard-checking a delivery of oxygen tanks. Ren walked right past him, neither fast nor slow, looking at his phone. Hina, Kaito, and Mei followed, holding their breath.

The guard didn't even look up.

"Service elevators," Ren whispered, guiding them down a hallway that smelled of antiseptic and hospital soup. "Third floor. Cardiology and Intensive Care."

The ride up in the elevator was silent. The mechanical hum seemed too loud. Hina looked at their reflection in the brushed metal doors. Four teenagers breaking into a hospital to perform forbidden magic on a school principal. If someone had told her this a month ago, she would have laughed.

Now, she could only think about the exchange. Energy for energy.

The doors opened on the third floor. The air here was different. Colder. Quieter. The rhythmic beeping of heart monitors floated down the hallways like strange music.

"Room 302," Hina recited mentally.

They walked down the hall. The nurses' station was busy. Two nurses were arguing about shifts, and a doctor was typing frantically on a computer.

"I'll handle them," Ren said.

"How?" Kaito asked.

Ren winked, though the mask hid his arrogant smile.

"Ishida charm."

Ren walked up to the counter, lowering his mask just enough to show his "good boy" face.

"Excuse me?" he said, with a polite and concerned voice. "I'm looking for the donation wing? My father, Mr. Ishida, asked me to check the family name plaque... he thinks they spelled it wrong."

The nurses immediately changed their posture. The name "Ishida" opened doors in that building. While Ren distracted them with questions about the exact location of the commemorative plaque in the opposite hallway, he gave a subtle hand signal behind his back.

Hina, Kaito, and Mei slipped behind the counter and into the private rooms hallway.

300... 301...

The door was ajar.

Kaito stood guard at the door. Mei stood in the middle of the room, ready to alert them. Hina went to the bed.

Principal Tanabe looked like she had shrunk. Without her tailored suits and authoritative posture, she was just a frail elderly woman. Her skin was the color of old paper. Wires and tubes connected her to machines monitoring a slow, irregular heartbeat.

Beep... beep......... beep.

Hina felt a lump in her throat.

"She looks so... broken," Mei whispered.

"It's what the stress did," Hina said, feeling anger and determination mix. "And it's what we're going to undo."

Hina took the ring from her pocket and placed it on the ring finger of her left hand. The metal seemed to vibrate upon contact with her skin, recognizing its owner. Recognizing the intention.

It wasn't hate this time. It wasn't revenge.

It was reparation.

Hina took a deep breath. The smell of alcohol and sickness filled her lungs.

"Watch the door," she said.

She reached out and held Principal Tanabe's hand. The woman's skin was cold and dry.

Direct Touch.

Hina closed her eyes and dove in.

It wasn't like with Ren (fire and chaos). It wasn't like with Ren's father (ice and memory).

It was like trying to hold water with her hands.

Hina felt the principal's weakness. It was a gray, muddy thing, clogging the veins, weighing on the chest. Biological "bad luck." Stress turned into poison.

The ring heated up. It started with a soft, golden glow, different from the usual silver shine.

I wish for luck, Hina thought, focusing with all her might. Not to win the lottery. But cellular luck.

She visualized what Haruto had written about probabilities.

The probability of a clot dissolving now. The probability of an artery relaxing. The probability of the heart muscle finding the right rhythm.

Increase the odds. Increase them now.

The ring got hot. Very hot. Hina felt a sharp stab in her own chest, as if a needle had pierced her sternum.

She gasped.

"Hina?" Kaito whispered from the door, alarmed.

"I'm fine," she lied, clenching her teeth.

She didn't let go. She pulled the "bad luck" of the sickness out and pushed the ring's energy in.

It was heavy. It was like pushing a boulder uphill. Hina felt her own strength being drained, sucked by the ring to fuel the miracle. Her knees shook. Her vision blurred at the edges.

Just a little more. Just a little more.

The heart monitor changed sound.

Beep... beep... beep... beep.

The rhythm sped up. It got stronger. More steady.

The gray color in the principal's skin began to recede, replaced by a faint pink hue in her cheeks. Her breathing, previously shallow and noisy, became deep and peaceful.

Hina felt the shift. The "barrier" of the disease broke. The principal's body accepted the new probability.

The spell was complete.

Hina let go of the principal's hand, and the world spun.

She stumbled back, her legs giving way. Mei was quick, catching her before she hit the floor.

"Hina! You're freezing!" Mei exclaimed, touching her friend's face.

Hina tried to speak, but her tongue felt heavy. She felt hollow. As if she had run a marathon without breathing. Her nose started to bleed, a bright red drop falling onto her white mask.

"The heart rate," Kaito said, looking at the monitor in wonder. "It's normal. Hina, you did it."

The door opened. Ren entered, closing it quickly behind him.

"The nurses are coming. The head doctor is doing rounds. We have to leave... Hina?"

Ren saw Hina supported by Mei, blood on her mask, eyes half-closed. The look of triumph on his face vanished, replaced by genuine worry.

"I said it was dangerous," he hissed, running over to them.

"I... am fine," Hina whispered, her voice weak. "I just need... to rest."

"Let's get out of here," Ren said. He didn't wait. He draped Hina's arm over his shoulder, supporting almost all her weight. "Kaito, grab the backpack. Mei, check the hall."

They left the room just as the main elevator dinged at the end of the corridor.

"Emergency stairs," Ren commanded.

The descent was a blur for Hina. She remembered the sound of their footsteps echoing on the concrete staircase, the smell of Ren's expensive cologne mixed with her cold sweat, and the constant feeling that she was going to pass out.

They only stopped when they were outside the building, hidden behind the concrete structure of the parking lot, away from the cameras.

Ren helped Hina sit on the curb. Kaito immediately opened a water bottle and a pack of chocolate cookies he had brought.

"Eat," Kaito ordered.

Hina ate. The sugar exploded in her mouth, and slowly, the world stopped spinning. Color returned to her face.

She looked at the three worried faces hovering over her.

"Did it work?" she asked.

"If it didn't, you almost killed yourself for nothing," Ren said, crossing his arms, but Hina saw his hands were shaking slightly. "The monitor was stable when we left. She looked... alive."

Hina leaned her head against the cold parking lot wall. She wiped the blood from her nose with her coat sleeve.

She had done it. She had manipulated life.

"Akama is going to have a surprise on Monday," Mei said with a vengeful smile.

"Yes," Hina agreed, closing her eyes for a moment. "He will."

But in her mind, she wasn't seeing Akama. She was seeing a different room, in a different hospital, where her brother had been sleeping for six months.

The cost was high. She felt exhausted, drained to her soul. But she was alive. And the principal was healed.

I can do this, Hina thought, and the thought was terrifying and hopeful at the same time. I can bring him back.

"Let's go home," Ren said, reaching out a hand to help her up. "Taxi's on me. And Hina?"

"What?"

Ren looked at the hospital, then at her.

"Don't ever scare me like that again."

Hina smiled, weak but true.

"No promises, Ren. No promises."