The Alchemist's True Name
"Mmmph... ahhh..."
Clink...! Roll, roll, roll...
Huh...?
Her hair was stiff and stark white, a stark contrast to her young girl's appearance. Her face looked haggard, just like the first time I met Dorothy, but one thing was different—there was a confident smile on her lips that completely flipped the atmosphere.
"Look at that. The face of a toad staring down a cunning snake..."
"...Rogo?"
"More importantly... I'd appreciate it if you'd speak up again."
"Ah, I... me?"
The moment I spoke, her smile deepened right in front of me. What I really wanted to ask was about the Improved Dog Collar that had come loose and fallen off almost immediately after she woke up. When I heard there wouldn't be enough time for counseling with her, I remembered that it was Scarlet who had freed Dorothy from the Stigma, not me. I got permission right away and brought Nero along. I figured saving her didn't have to be my job—Nero, who had a deeper connection, would be more helpful.
But right now, Nero was waiting on the other side of the reinforced glass that cut across the center of the isolation room. And that collar... had she slipped it off on her own? Had she actually been resisting commands this whole time?
"Was it the power of this strange lump of metal that ended this body's tiresome punishment?"
Clatter.
"Was it even made of metal to begin with? Hmm..."
After spending so long in a straitjacket, she stretched and twisted her body, producing cracking sounds that didn't suit her small frame. She picked up the Improved Dog Collar and examined it closely. Then, without even glancing at me, she pressed for an answer.
"Counselor, this body is demanding a reply..."
"...Ah, yes. But how did you know I was the Counselor?"
"After saying it yourself, you still ask? You scatterbrained fool."
I said it myself? Now that I thought about it, when the Team Leader first brought me to her isolation room and told me she might never wake up, I had spoken to her like I was talking to myself. Whether it was out of guilt or something else, I couldn't say—but I definitely felt sorry that Nero had to keep living while Dorothy suffered every single day. That was probably why I kept coming back afterward. If I had to guess, that was the only reason.
"You were awake the whole time?"
"No, not quite. My mind wasn't, but this body's flesh was always awake. It felt like being trapped inside a dark, musty, suffocating wooden barrel."
"...?"
"All I could hear was voices. I was starting to wonder what your face looked like, and now... heh. This is rather..."
She casually pulled out the IV needles for the essential nutrients and let them drop. Rising completely from the bed, she walked toward me and naturally ran a hand over her own body. The loosened straitjacket transformed on its own into a black dress that draped down. It was the same outfit Nero always wore. Of course, the size had been adjusted to fit her small frame, but thanks to her confident gestures, the deep neckline revealing the number 77 on her chest and the daring side slit exposing her thighs didn't look out of place on her at all.
"Huh?"
Thud.
But after taking barely three steps forward, her legs gave out and she collapsed right there.
"Miss Alchemist?!"
"Oh dear...? Now that I think about it, this is the first time I've stood up in who knows how long."
When I rushed over to support her, she completely lost all strength and even let her head droop.
"Oh my..."
"We stopped the medication, but it will take time for the accumulated drugs to leave your system."
Her limp body was surprisingly light. Her unusual way of speaking, the way she addressed others, her confident expressions and gestures—all of it gave her an almost mature air. But fundamentally, there was nothing she could do about her small frame.
"Nero, bring it in quickly."
Nero soon entered the separated inner part of the isolation room pushing a wheelchair. Her expression wasn't good—probably because she had just seen with her own eyes how her former master had been living all this time.
"Waking up only to immediately owe someone a favor... it's no different from a newborn who can't even leave the cradle."
Once seated in the wheelchair, she let out a self-deprecating sigh and stared straight at Nero this time, not me.
"You kept failing, but you finally succeeded, Makatasrama Zuhsamudea."
"Maka... who?"
"Hm...? Just like how you're the Counselor, Makatasrama Zuhsamudea is Makatasrama Zuhsamudea. Who else would I be talking about?"
She said that ridiculously long name—over ten characters—without a single mistake. But Maka... that name, could it be...
"That was my old name, Master."
"In our witches' language, it means 'cute beast.'"
"...It doesn't sound cute at all. And since you said it was too long and annoying to say, you just called me 'cat' instead."
Faced with half of her own soul right in front of her, she apparently hadn't failed to notice the change in appearance.
"So what happened to that way of speaking? I definitely educated you properly... Do you want to live as a mute for another week?"
"Ah, no. That's not it-nya..."
Nya...?
"That's right. If you're a talking cat, you should use speech that matches. That way, the first people you meet will be properly impressed."
Going that far just to impress complete strangers...? So the reason she ended every sentence with "nya" wasn't just a habit—it was because of her former master's education?
"More than anything, that side of you is cuter, so as long as it helps you, there's no need to fix it."
"...Well, I guess that's true."
I knew very well just how effective that speech pattern Nero had been using whenever she asked me for something really was.
"So... I'd like to hear why you finally succeeded in shapeshifting after failing for so long."
Even while seated in the wheelchair, she rested her hands on the armrests and crossed her legs, exuding an adult's composure. She seemed to want to hear about Nero's shapeshifting.
"It's already been... hmm, I don't know exactly how long since I gave you half my soul, but it was quite a while. And yet you always failed."
"Ugh, that's..."
"To complete a proper shapeshift, there must be a soul's form that you strongly desire... Looking at that unnecessarily lewd body and that face that only thinks about seducing people..."
Her sharp gaze, narrowed as she looked Nero up and down, slowly shifted toward me standing beside her.
"Hmm... I think I understand now. So in the end, even a beast is just a beast. Tsk tsk."
"That's not it...! Nya, this is the result of all my worrying and struggling...! Nya!"
"Once you've decided on a soul's form, it can never be changed, so saying anything more to you would be a waste of time."
Nero's ears poked out above her head, looking flustered as if she'd been struck right where it hurt.
"Nero... your ears and tail came out."
"Eek!"
When I quietly told her, she blushed slightly and covered her head. ...She really was cute.
"Haa... Well then, my introduction is late, but I'll greet you from this seated position despite the rudeness. My body won't listen to me."
"I understand, Miss Alchemist."
"I don't dislike being called that way either, but... my name is O Makatasrama Ehin Huztaya Miarkebatz."
One of the words sounded familiar.
"In our witches' language, it means 'extremely cute genius beautiful girl alchemist.' You may call me Arke for short."
Just like the word attached to Nero's name.
"Then... I'll call you Miss Arke."
"Miss Arke. That has a rather pleasant ring to it. It's a cultured and dignified title you wouldn't hear at our witches' gatherings."
"I'm glad it pleases you. More importantly, I think we need to check something..."
What I wanted to check was, of course, the Stigma. But she lightly waved her hand as if she already knew what I was about to say.
"As for the Stigma's command authority, I've already taken it over myself, so there's no need to worry at all. Though it still feels like there's a small back door left open..."
When her whole body had been wrapped tightly in the straitjacket, I hadn't noticed, but her Stigma was located on the left side of her neck. As she gently stroked it with her fingertips, what she was talking about was probably the lingering possibility of possession that she still couldn't rule out. Was calling herself a genius not just empty words?
"It feels like I didn't wipe after using the bathroom... or like waking up after falling asleep right after pleasuring myself last night."
"...That's quite specific."
And quite explicit at the same time.
"Of course. This body loves metaphors and similes, and defines cuteness as justice."
The first meeting with the awakened witch had been dizzying just from hearing her name, and full of unexpected events. Even so, looking at the results alone, she had escaped the Stigma's punishment just like Scarlet and Dorothy. Nero's worried face had brightened, and above all, the woman herself was extremely lively even while seated in the wheelchair.
"Today's meeting is filled with so much excitement that it makes me forget the pain of the past."
She looked to be in a good mood, probably for that reason—but was it also because she had reunited with Nero?
"This pounding in my chest, so pure and perfect that it needs no metaphors or similes from me, must be no different from first love. So, Counselor,"
"Ah...?"
"This is the first time we've spoken face to face, but may I shamelessly ask you for one favor?"
Was this a favor that only I could grant? Thanks to my recent debauched harem lifestyle, my self-esteem had unknowingly risen quite a bit. Maybe I really was popular after all. The way she looked at me was strange... and she said it made her heart flutter and pound? While worrying about something so pointless, I nodded slightly, feeling a bit tense.
"Yes. The second sun that has newly risen after this body... I want to meet the one who created this restraint right now!"
Along with the experience of my face growing hot, I thought to myself how fortunate it was that I hadn't said anything unnecessary.