The Weight of Kindness and the Shadow of the Astra
"Scarlet, please, just sit down! I said I’d take care of it for you!"
During lunch, as I was plating my food, Sylvia shouted in a flustered tone. The academy cafeteria was buffet-style, and since there was a designated space to set down trays, I could easily manage on my own. But ever since she’d seen my arm, Sylvia had been sticking to me like glue. Whenever I tried to do anything that might be even slightly difficult, she’d insist on doing it for me—just like now.
Of course, I’d refused everything I could handle by myself. I understood she wanted to help, but it was still awkward to accept her assistance.
"I can handle this much on my own, so it’s fine."
"Then, at least let me carry it for you..."
"I’m telling you, I’m really fine."
I said that and effortlessly lifted the tray, piled high with food, with one hand. If I’d had this much arm strength back in my old life, working part-time jobs in food service would have been a breeze. As I walked toward an empty seat with that thought in mind, Sylvia hurried ahead, pulled out the chair to my right, and gestured for me to sit. The way she tried to do everything for me was honestly a bit overwhelming. I gave her a wry smile, though I nodded to express my gratitude.
The lunch that followed was unusually quiet. We usually chatted while we ate, but today, Sylvia didn’t seem to have any intention of starting a conversation. She just moved her utensils silently, matching my pace. She wasn’t speaking, but she was staring at me intensely. Throughout the meal, I could feel her fervent gaze from my left so strongly that I wondered if she was going to burn a hole in my cheek. I glanced over, and there was Sylvia, pouting. It was a look that screamed, "I am sulking."
She wasn’t the type to wear her emotions on her sleeve like this, was she?
"...Hey, Sylvia, are you angry?"
"...I’m not angry."
I asked her tentatively, seeing how clearly she was pouting—forgetting all about her usual stoic nature—and she replied. I stared at her, trying to convey a silent, "Then why are you acting like this?" Realizing how she must have looked, she blushed slightly in embarrassment. After a moment, she spoke up, looking hesitant.
"Why do you try to do everything by yourself...? I want to help you, Scarlet, but it’s like you don’t need my help at all..."
She looked at me with wide, glistening eyes, pleading. "I want you to rely on me a little more... We’re friends, aren’t we?"
Even though she was taller than me, the way she looked up at me made me think of a small, defenseless animal. My heart raced at the sight. Well, half of it was because her words were hitting my guilt hard. I struggled to keep my expression neutral as I offered an excuse.
"It’s just... I’m not the type of person who likes to rely on others..."
"But still..."
Why did she want to do so much for me? My inner self was screaming that I couldn't take any more, weighed down by guilt and indebtedness, but seeing those eyes that seemed to be shouting, "I just want to do something for you!" I had no choice but to compromise.
"Fine. If something comes up that I absolutely cannot handle on my own, I’ll ask for your help. I promise I’ll tell you then..."
I said that with the firm intention of not creating any more emotional debt than I already had.
"Scarlet, you really are stubborn..."
Sylvia shook her head as if to say I was a lost cause, then her eyes sparkled. "Understood. If you ever need help, I will do everything in my power to assist you."
She sounded so determined. Honestly, why was she being so unnecessarily solemn over a simple conversation? I shook my head internally. Still, perhaps because of that talk, her face looked much brighter than before. Maybe her tension had eased now that she felt better. I saw her ears twitch. Time for the macarons.
After finishing my meal, I pulled a slightly clumsily wrapped macaron from my pocket and held it out to her.
"Wait, did you make these?"
Sylvia, who had taken the macaron in surprise, looked bewildered. Did she not think I could make homemade macarons with an arm like this? To be honest, I wasn’t sure if it would work either, but it was doable, even if it was a bit of a hassle. Making the meringue was the hard part, but I could hold the bowl down with my feet and mix the batter with one arm. When Sylvia unwrapped it, the macaron was revealed. She gasped.
Even for a homemade attempt, the macaron was severely misshapen.
"I’m sorry... I couldn’t get the shape right today. I’ll make them prettier next time."
I apologized, feeling awkward because even I knew it looked bad. I’d forgotten that I’d used up all the piping bags at the hospital. I only realized it after I’d already finished the batter, and since it would have been a waste to throw it away, I’d just scooped it out with a spoon, which resulted in that mess. I’d be able to use a piping bag next time, so I’d be able to make them look decent again. I looked at Sylvia, thinking that, but—
"..."
Was the shape of the macaron that shocking? Sylvia’s face was... well. It looked just like the macaron.
"This is our company!"
Jessie exclaimed in a cheerful voice. I tilted my head back to look at the building labeled Ruthenia and was struck by its sheer size. Ruthenia Corp. Originally famous for construction and material distribution, they had recently made a name for themselves in the development of combat-ready prosthetics using durable construction materials. At Jessie’s suggestion that I make time for a custom prosthetic fitting, I’d followed her here right after school.
"To make a prosthetic that can be used in combat, not just for daily life, we need a detailed measurement of your abilities. Especially since your ability is fire-based, Scarlet."
Jessie led me to a measurement room in the basement of the building. "Usually, you need an expert for ability testing, but my older brother happens to be unemployed and just lazing around at home, so I called him in to help. Let me introduce you. This is my big brother."
And the person Jessie introduced was someone I already knew.
"Huh? The person coming for the measurement today was a young lady?"
A man with a portly build and a somewhat unfortunate hairline looked at me in surprise. It was the guy I’d seen when I went to demonstrate my powers a while back. To think he was the older brother of a classmate. I bowed my head slightly, feeling a sense of familiarity.
"Wait? Scarlet, do you know my big brother? This guy has been holed up at home all day since he lost his job, so how do you know him?"
At his own sister’s scathing evaluation, the man’s face crumpled. Feeling a pang of pity, I gave a wry smile and vaguely explained that we’d met by chance. Even if it had been a perfectly innocent part-time job, if I accidentally let slip that I’d spent a "fun time" in a motel with her brother, my reputation at school would be ruined instantly. Fortunately, she didn’t press further, but then the man asked a question.
"Young lady, why the sudden ability test? You don’t look like you need a prosthetic replacement."
I glanced at Jessie, and she nodded. Well, they were family, so she probably knew roughly what had happened. When I removed the gemstone from my left arm’s armband, he groaned softly, then began the ability test without further questions. The test involved laying out various materials and having me unleash my maximum firepower while holding them one by one to see which was most suitable. I asked why we couldn’t just use the most heat-resistant material, but he replied that there weren’t many materials that could balance heat resistance, weight, and durability.
Hearing the words "maximum firepower" reminded me of the moment I’d shoved my left arm into the Sloth Witch’s minion and unleashed my flames, but I instinctively knew that blasting fire like that was dangerous. I was subconsciously limiting myself to protect my body, but I felt that if I unleashed it to the absolute limit without care, my entire body might burn up, just as my left arm had been incinerated. So, I finished the test with the maximum flame I felt I could produce without harming myself.
"Well, the measurement is mostly done. Do you have any desired functions for the prosthetic? If we compromise on weight, we might be able to install something like a mana cannon, as I mentioned before..."
I broke into a cold sweat at Jessie’s obsession with a mana cannon and thought about what functions I actually needed. Honestly, a rocket punch was the ultimate romantic ideal for a man, but it was too impractical in reality... As I stood there, a thought flickered in my mind: a way to unleash flames from the prosthetic itself. The black shard I always kept in my school uniform pocket. If I embedded that into the prosthetic, couldn’t I use a Fire Punch?
I remembered the man who’d acted as my guardian at the hospital telling me not to show it to anyone, but if I didn’t show it, the prosthetic would be a bit lackluster. I hesitated, then took out the shard and showed it to them. The man’s eyes lit up when he realized it could emit flames even when detached from my body, and he asked if he could study it, but I refused. He looked incredibly disappointed.
"Anyway, I’d like to be able to emit fire from the prosthetic using this... and if possible, I’d like some form of ranged attack. It’s been tough since I can only do close-range combat."
Jessie looked thoughtful as she listened to my requirements. "Hmm, I’ll have to ask someone else to see if we can come up with a good idea... The test is over, so you can go. I’ll contact you as soon as the prosthetic is finished, so could you give me your contact information?"
I gave Jessie my number. I put the shard back in my pocket, reattached the gemstone to my armband, put back on the ring I’d removed for the test, and stepped out of the building. The sun was already setting.
"...Huh? Number 10?"
As I stepped outside, a silver-haired elf man with glasses approached me, his eyes gleaming. What was "Number 10"? Was it a jersey number? Thinking he was a bit strange, I took a step back and asked, "Who are you?"
"Oh...? ...May I ask you a question? That hair, is it dyed?"
"No, it’s not..."
"...My apologies. I must have mistaken you for someone I know."
He scanned me up and down with a subtle expression, asked that inexplicable question, and then bowed. I’d thought he might know me like the man at the hospital, but I guess not. It reminded me of the girl on the street who might have been a witch, who had also mistaken me for someone else, and I felt a strange unease. Were there really that many people who looked like me?
Just then, the elf stepped toward me with a strange look and asked, "By the way, are you a friend of Lady Sylvia?"
I felt a chill run down my spine. Crazy, how did he know? Is he a stalker? I was so startled I took another step back, then realized the man was a silver-haired elf. ...An Astra. Sylvia must have told her family about me. I slowly nodded. He then smiled and said,
"Please treat Lady Sylvia well. And don’t even think about doing anything bad."
His smile held a somewhat ominous glint. "The Astras never forget a kindness or a grudge."
With that, the man adjusted his glasses with a white-gloved hand and walked into the building I had just left. ...He was a deeply unpleasant person. Anyway, the mention of Sylvia reminded me of something I’d almost forgotten. I needed to stop by the mart and buy a piping bag before heading home.