Sayo didn't spend eight years in medical school for nothing. She didn't climb up the ranks to her current position as a famous surgeon for nothing. It was her lifelong dream to help and heal others ever since she was a little girl, where she would spend her playdates with friends— playing pretend doctor stuffed animals and porcelain, glass-eyed dolls with band-aids littered with cartoon characters and pastel designs.

Plastic doctor kits and thermometers became metal scalpels and stethoscopes, and childhood fantasies became a rigid, but fulfilling reality. Sometimes, her patients referred to her talent as 'pure magic'.

If her talent had come to become magic to her patients, then she was content with it. Sayo was just glad that any treated person turns out to be safe.

Her team was no exception.

After every battle, she'd tend to the wounds of her teammates before her own. Every single scrape, cut, and scratch was dealt with. It wasn't without it's… difficulties though.

First would be Shiguru, who tries to mask the stinging pain of hydrogen peroxide seeping through the washed cut on his cheek. Just as he's always done, he puts on a stony, stoic face, responding to Sayo's comments of concern with two sentences:

"I'm fine. It doesn't even hurt that much."

As soon Shiguru assumes Sayo can't see or hear him, however, he lets out a loud scream of pain and curses. A few choking sobs are added into the mix sometimes, too.

After getting through the wailing Shiguru, now with a plaster band-aid on his cheek, Sayo would move on to Tametomo. He had always associated her with a medic from an FPS game in good faith; which, while odd, was not uncommon for him. As soon as the cotton ball touched the scrape on his knee, he let out a loud:

"FUCK!"

Stunned with his sudden profanity, Sayo instantly pulled back.

"Tametomo, please calm down," Sayo assured her teammate. "If I can't rub the wound with hydrogen peroxide, it'll get infected. Now let me just—"

"SHIT! OH MY GOD, OW! MOTHERFUCKER, HOW DOES THAT ALCOHOLIC SHIT STING THIS BAD?!"

The swears persisted for the rest of the time Sayo rubbed the ball on the scrape, quieting down into murmurs as she plastered a beige band-aid onto his wounded knee.

Next, Sayo scooted over to Sena, wincing at the cluster of scratches on her elbow. Discarding the old cotton ball and pulling out a new one from a biodegradable bag of dozens of other clusters of wool. She dabbed the ball with the alcoholic formula, but before it can even touch her skin, she flinched so violently and quickly that she nearly knocked Sayo down to the ground.

"A—ah! Sorry, Sayo!" Sena frantically apologized, bending her elbow to give Sayo a clear view of the wound. Once again, when the cotton was a centimeter away from her elbow, she once again flinched. Ths banter went on for a total of three more times before Sayo was able to have a good angle to clean the scratches, despite Sena's pouting and whines.

Finally, Sayo made her way to Juuru. Kneeling down, she inspected the scrape on the front of his hand. Monotumosuly repeating her process, she grabbed a new cotton ball, dabbed the substance on it, and rubbed the surface of the wound. Unlike the other Kiramagers, however, Juuru kept a straight face—all the while bouncing his leg and biting his tongue.

"Juuru, you don't have to pretend it doesn't hurt," Sayo said sympathetically with a small smile.

"Ah, I'll be fine!" Juuru beamed, "It's only just a scrape. I just want you and everyone else to be safe."

Sayo chuckled in amusement and a tang of fluster as she placed a red-colored band-aid on the wound.

"Thank you, Sayo! You work just like magic!" Thanking her, Juuru gave Sayo a small grin; the grin of someone who appreciated the help and care she provided. Looking back at the others, even she can see that, deep down, they still admired her for taking care of even the slightest wound.

She was grateful.