The Prosthetic Girl - 2
Ed had fallen asleep far later than Charlotte, yet he woke before she did.
It was not that he had slept only a little. Charlotte had simply spent an entire day and night unconscious.
The reason was simple: after removing the Slave Crest, Ed had fitted her with a prosthetic arm and leg.
Unlike when the crest was taken away, Charlotte had remained calm while the prosthetics were attached. Ed, however, had looked thoroughly worried.
Perhaps that was why he sat beside her and quietly read a book, keeping watch over her condition so he would be ready the moment she woke.
Two days after the prosthetic arm had clashed with the Slave Crest, morning arrived.
"Ugh… nh…"
"Charlotte?"
With a soft groan of pain, Charlotte slowly opened her eyes. Ed confirmed she was awake.
"Th-this is… Master's room…?"
"Yes. Drink this first. We'll talk after."
Ed handed a glass of water to the newly woken girl.
"Ah, thank y—"
Charlotte reached out with both hands to take the cup he offered.
As if the sheer dissonance of having a left arm again had struck her, she froze, her gaze locked on the limb.
"Th-this is…"
"The pain from the Slave Crest has been dealt with. It will feel foreign, but there shouldn't be any pain."
Charlotte seemed not to hear a word. She only stared at her left arm. She opened and closed the hand, then moved the arm, and tiny droplets gathered in her eyes.
Ed quietly set the cup he still held on the nightstand beside the bed.
"M-Master…"
"I let it slide yesterday, but I want to correct one form of address. If you don't mind, call me Ed. The Slave Crest has been erased, after all."
The words has been erased seemed to strike something deep in Charlotte. Carefully, she took Ed's hand in both of hers.
"Th-thank you… Truly… thank you so much…"
Ed looked briefly startled by the sudden gesture. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet.
"It was nothing. You don't need to thank me like that."
"N-nothing…?"
If he had meant to soothe her, the effect was the opposite. The tears she had been holding back finally spilled over, and her voice began to tremble.
"I-I mean… sniff… I thought I'd never use an arm again for the rest of my life… So I just… gave up on arms and tried to live…"
Once the sentence left her, her breathing grew rougher still, and more tears streamed down.
"And then I met Master like this, and— hic— a new arm, and a new…"
The backs of her hands were already soaked where the tears fell. On the verge of breaking completely, she forced one last line out.
"Master… buying me, giving me a name, giving me the prosthetics… all of it… hic… all of it…"
She never managed to finish. Charlotte broke into open sobbing, wiping at her eyes with both hands—the very thing she had wanted most of all.
"It's a warm drink. Sip it slowly and calm yourself."
"Ah, thank you…"
For Charlotte, whose eyes were red from crying, Ed had brought a mug of hot cocoa. Still unused to her left hand, she accepted it with her right.
"Once you've finished, we'll talk."
"Okay."
The moment she heard him, Charlotte drained the cocoa in a single go. Her face crumpled a little along the way—from the heat, he guessed.
She set the empty mug on the nightstand and said,
"I'm ready to hear it."
"…There was no need to drink it that fast. Anyway, I'd like to hear how that arm feels."
"I'm happy. I'm overwhelmed with gratitude."
"No. I'm asking about the physical sensation. Any foreignness, any movements that feel out of control, any pain?"
"Nothing like that. It's just a little awkward because I went so long without an arm."
"If that's all, then good."
Ed finished the exchange and muttered something under his breath about how truly remarkable the craftsmanship was. He picked up the mug from the nightstand with his left hand and rose from his seat.
Charlotte tried to stand as well, but Ed held out his right hand and stopped her.
"The prosthetic leg has only just been fitted. Walking can wait. I'll bring a meal."
"Uh… Master, wasn't I purchased as a slave…?"
"…I already told you the Slave Crest has been erased."
"W-what!?"
Startled, Charlotte clapped a hand to the back of her neck. Ed took the opening and stepped out of the room.
"Wh-what… It's really gone…"
She kept feeling the nape of her neck, thoroughly flustered. Then she pulled herself together and, determined to follow the vanished Ed, struggled up from the bed.
"Aaaaah!"
Her legs, too, still felt strange. She lost her balance and went down. Only after falling three more times did she seem to get the hang of it; this time she used the wall for support and started walking.
Oh. She's slow, but she really is walking. He was just thinking that when the door opened.
While Charlotte had been rising and trying to walk, Ed had finished preparing the meal and returned.
"I was planning to have you walk somewhere safer if you fell. I take it you didn't listen."
"I-I'm sorry…"
Beyond the doorway stood Ed with a plate of meat. He set it quickly on a small table, then scooped Charlotte up like a princess. He stiffened for a heartbeat just before lifting her, then carried the motion through.
"You've gotten a little heavier."
"I-it must be the weight of the arm and leg…"
He settled her into a chair and put utensils in her hands. Charlotte stammered and flailed under that kind of treatment, but Ed paid it no mind. Before long a simple breakfast sat in front of her.
"Um… that is…"
"I don't know how you used to eat, but this time use both hands."
"I-I am trying to use both…"
Charlotte turned the utensils over and over in her hands, then carefully looked up at him.
"How… do you use these…?"
What she held were a fork and a knife. Ed seemed to have forgotten: Charlotte had been a slave.
"…You never used them before you became one?"
"It's been so long I barely remember…"
At that, Ed let out a short sigh. Charlotte flinched at the sound and offered a tiny apology.
"Well. My fault for not anticipating the situation. Hold the utensils in both hands. I'll show you how."
"Ah—yes."
Ed moved behind the chair where she sat and laid his hands over hers. She startled briefly at the contact, then recovered her composure.
"This isn't exactly ideal food to eat right after waking, but I need to check the condition of the prosthetic."
"R-right…?"
Guiding her hands, he had her take the knife in her right and the fork in her left. He cut a piece of food on the plate, then let go.
"M-Master…?"
"Try it yourself."
"Ah… yes…"
At his words, Charlotte brought the forked bite toward her mouth… and failed. The prosthetic still wasn't familiar; the fork kept aiming for her cheek. She offered first her left cheek and then her right to the food before finally managing to get it into her mouth.
Her face around the lips was a mess, but between the joy of success and the taste of the food she had no attention left to spare for that.
"You're no better than a child…"
In the end, cleaning her mouth fell to Ed. He took a cloth from his pocket and wiped her cheeks. Charlotte tried to mumble something through her chewing; he cut her off with a firm, "Talk after you finish."
The food must have suited her after that first taste, because she never stopped moving the fork and knife. Early on she made small mistakes and dirtied her cheeks again, but the errors steadily grew fewer as she grew used to it.
After clearing about half the plate, she seemed to remember something and looked up at him.
"M-Master, aren't you eating…?"
"I already had a light meal."
"Th-then…"
Hearing that, Charlotte quickly cut a large piece. Ed was about to say something when he saw that her fork was not heading toward her own mouth.
"Would you like… even this much…?"
Her careful fork was aimed at Ed. He was briefly surprised by the sudden kindness, then accepted it.
"Thank you."
He took the fork she offered, put the piece she had cut into his mouth, covered his lips with his left hand as he chewed, and returned the fork. Even after taking it back, Charlotte kept looking up at him.
With a soft gulp, the food went down his throat.
"Is that the end of the meal?"
"N-no!"
She must still have been unsatisfied, because both hands started moving again at once.
"Th-thank you for the meal…"
A little while later, Charlotte finished and set her utensils down. Ed answered her with a brief acknowledgment, then picked up the dishes she had used and carried them out of the room.
Charlotte tried to rise so she could carry them herself instead, but Ed stopped her with one hand. Even so she tried to get up and follow him; the time she spent grunting and struggling to stand was longer than the time it took him to return.
"I told you not to walk in here. There's too much risk of falling."
"Ah, th-that…"
He had caught her in the exact pose of someone about to stand, and he cautioned her again.
"I-I'm sor—"
"Take my hand. I'll help you walk."
After the apology, Charlotte had been about to sit again; at the sight of the hand he held out, she froze for a moment. Then she straightened and took it with her left hand.
"We'll start with standing."
"Okay…!"
Holding his hand, she drew a deep breath, pulled on his arm, and rose. Her legs kept trembling, so her steps were slow, but with Ed there she did not fall.
"You're adapting more slowly than with the arm."
"Ah, sor—"
"If you're about to apologize, spare me. I'll listen for the reason instead."
Walking slowly, Charlotte stopped at his last words. She seemed already short of strength; she took a long moment to catch her breath before she spoke.
"If you don't have arms, you can just not use them. But for legs, if you want to walk, you need a replacement. Until now I used a cane instead of a leg, so having a new one feels even more wrong than the arm did…"
"That makes sense."
With the conversation over, Charlotte carefully moved her feet again, and Ed matched her pace. Realizing she meant to leave the room, he used his free hand to open the door ahead of her. She never noticed; her eyes were fixed only on her own legs.
"Wait, Charlotte. We'll do the rest of the walking outside."
"…"
"Charlotte."
"Ah—yes? Did you call me?"
"I'm saying we should go outside to walk. The floor in here is hard, after all."
"Okay…! But how are we supposed to—eek!?"
She looked up to ask how they would get outside, and Ed simply lifted her into his arms. Being carried for the second time, she was calmer than before—aside from the startle of being scooped up so suddenly.
Because he was holding her, Ed had no free hands; whenever a door needed opening, Charlotte used hers. They made a surprisingly good team, he thought.
"Somewhere like this, even if you fall you won't get hurt."
"The ground is soft."
Ed stopped in a meadow a short distance from their house—no rocks in sight, grass thick enough that a fall would mean nothing.
"All right. I'll set you down. Try walking on your own."
"Okay…!"
Charlotte drew a deep breath and steeled herself. Ed set her carefully on her feet.
I should mention this now: Charlotte's prosthetic leg is nothing like an ordinary one. A normal prosthetic is something that merely helps you walk. The one I made is, quite literally, a lower body. It is crafted finely enough that it feels less like I attached a new leg and more like a new leg grew, which is exactly why it takes longer to adapt than other prosthetics.
Why go that far? Well. Call it a whim. I wanted to watch her adapt, too—and besides, a true craftsman's work always trades fineness against the speed of getting used to it.
"Eek…!"
Walking slowly, Charlotte let out a short cry and fell. Ed watched the whole thing with serious attention. She struggled to get up again, but with nothing to brace against she only kept rolling.
Finding the motion odd, Ed moved to her side once she stopped tumbling.
"Is something wrong?"
"It's different… Completely different from the arm… It feels like I have six fingers. Without support I can't walk at all, and I can't get up…"
"Do you want support?"
"Right now that would be nice, but… I can't lean on someone every time… Could you bring me my cane…?"
"For now I'll support you myself. Let's go back to the house. We'll stop here for today."
"Okay…! I'll try…!"
Charlotte took the hand Ed offered with both of hers and staggered to her feet. Then, walking slowly once more, they made their way home.