Narita Airport at five in the morning was about as fun as Suzume expected it to be.

  Which was to say, not at all. She'd spent Wednesday night going over Hikari's briefing documents on American dungeon regulations, and the rest of it staring at the ceiling.

  But, hey, at least the coffee was hot.

  "So, hold on," Takeo said as they wheeled their luggage through the international departures terminal. "We just... sit in a metal tube for eleven hours? And it flies? Through the sky?"

  Honoka looked up at him with genuine confusion.

  "You've never flown before?"

  "I'm from Osaka! Everything I've ever needed was either in Osaka or a train ride away."

  "It's like a train," Honoka offered, "but in the air." She thought about it. "Well, there is turbulence sometimes."

  "Turbulence?" Takeo's brows shot up.

  "When the plane shakes a little."

  "Shakes!?"

  "Eh, don't worry, you won't die." Honoka paused. "I mean, probably."

  Suzume left them to it and made her way over to the special permits counter, where the real headache was waiting. Transporting dungeon gear internationally required Player Association authorization, which meant a stack of paperwork that Hikari had prepared in advance, and even with that, the customs agent behind the counter was flipping so many damn pages that Suzume could tell this was gonna take a while.

  Emiko was already there, leaning over the counter.

  "This form was filed and approved yesterday," Emiko said. "The permit number is right there. EC-4471."

  The customs agent, a tired-looking man in his fifties, squinted at his screen.

  "The manifest lists 'concussive grenades' under utility equipment."

  "For rescue purposes. It's basic utility. Read the full line."

  "Ma'am, I need to verify—"

  "Then verify. I'll wait." Emiko smiled at him. It was not a warm smile.

  Suzume leaned against the counter next to her and pulled up the customs checklist on her phone.

  "Did we get the secondary clearance for Sora-san's bow? That's a class-three weapon internationally."

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Emiko blinked, then checked her folder.

  "... I have the domestic permit. Not the international one."

  "Hikari sent it to me last night in case we needed a backup." Suzume forwarded the file. "There."

  Emiko looked at her, then at the email, then back at her.

  "When did you even sleep?"

  "Bold of you to assume I did."

  They got it sorted in twenty minutes. By six-fifteen, they were boarding.

  Sora Minamoto had shown up at the guild hall yesterday afternoon with a duffel bag and a bow taller than Honoka, introduced himself with "I saw your posting, I'm interested," and then asked Hikari detailed questions about the dungeon layout while eating three convenience store rice balls in a row. Level 68 Archer. The one A-Rank player in Japan who'd answered Yumi's call. Suzume liked him. Right now he was chatting with Takeo near the gate, and whatever he was saying had Takeo looking slightly less terrified about the whole flying thing.

  The seat assignments were tight. Suzume ended up in the middle of row 34 with Kasumi at the window and Hikari on the aisle. Behind them, Yumi slid in next to Rina.

  "Hey, Rina-chan, you a window or aisle girl?"

  "Don't care."

  "Window it is." Yumi patted her own armrest. "This is going to be a fun eleven hours."

  The flight took off without incident. Somewhere up the aisle, Suzume could hear Takeo asking a flight attendant if turbulence could "flip the plane upside down." Honoka's voice followed, less diplomatic than the attendant's. "No, Takeo-kun. No, it can't."

  Three hours in, Kasumi fell asleep on Suzume's shoulder.

  There was a warmth to it, solid and comfortable, and Kasumi's hair smelled good, some shampoo that probably cost more than Suzume's rent. She leaned into it, closed her eyes, and let herself have this for a while.

  On her other side, Hikari was still reading her tablet. She didn't say anything, but Suzume caught the faintest hint of a smile.

  Suzume dozed off somewhere around the four-hour mark. She woke up again at six hours, neck stiff, Kasumi still out cold against her side with one hand on Suzume's thigh. She sat with that for a moment, then carefully extracted herself and headed for the back of the plane.

  The galley was empty except for Yumi, who was leaning against the counter with a cup of instant noodles in one hand and her phone in the other.

  "Hey," Yumi said. "Couldn't sleep?"

  "Slept a little. Woke up."

  "Ah. Thinking too much?"

  "I keep running the numbers," Suzume said, leaning against the opposite counter. "Sora-san's 68, which helps, but the dungeon's A-Rank baseline. If there are twenty A-Rank monsters packed into one room, even Sora-san can't solo that. And if the players we're looking for are already dead, we're flying eleven hours to risk everyone for nothing."

  "Then we turn around and come home," Yumi said.

  Suzume looked at her.

  "It's not that simple."

  "No," Yumi agreed, picking her noodles back up. "It's not simple at all. But the alternative is doing nothing, and you already decided that's not an option." She took another bite. "On top of that, you've got a team that's on a plane right now because they believe in you." She grinned. "We'll be fine."

  Suzume stared at the floor for a moment, then let out a long breath.

  "Thanks, Yumi."

  "Anytime." Yumi nudged her arm with an elbow. "Now go back to sleep. You look like shit."

  "Wow. Thanks."

  "I say it with love."

  Suzume made her way back down the aisle, slid into her seat, and Kasumi's head found her shoulder again within about ten seconds. She closed her eyes and this time, she actually slept.

  When the captain announced their descent into Denver, Suzume opened her eyes to sunlight pouring through the windows. Below them, the jagged, snow-capped ridgeline of the Rocky Mountains stretched out toward the horizon.

  Kasumi stirred beside her, lifting her head and blinking.

  "Are we there?"

  "Yeah." Suzume rolled her stiff neck and started mentally running through the plan for the next twenty-four hours. Rental van, hotel in Boulder, meeting with the three American players. "We're here."

  She pulled up Hikari's briefing notes on her phone and started reviewing them again before the wheels touched the ground.