The Return of the First Miracle
I haven't abandoned anything, yet I'm ruined. My workshop is ruined. My life is ruined. Today, even the last remaining teacup shattered. Clatter. I stared down at the shards scattered across the floor and spoke quietly.
“Do I have to start drinking water with my bare hands now?”
It was a joke, of course. It had to be a joke. But as I looked around the workshop, that joke was rapidly becoming reality. Empty display cases. Dust-covered workbenches. Doll parts missing limbs. Demand notices plastered on the walls. And the red tag stuck next to the entrance.
How kind of them. They’d already taken everything worth taking, and now they were checking to see if there was anything left to squeeze out. “Did they seize my conscience, too?”
I sighed and crouched on the floor, picking up the broken teacup pieces one by one. “Ah.” My fingertip was slightly cut. Blood welled up. A single drop fell to the floor. I stared at it blankly. In the past, I would have used this drop of blood as research material. The thermal response of doll skin. The reproduction of fingertip sensation. The light reflecting in an iris. The vibration of a Heart Core. There was a time when I spent my nights obsessed with such things.
Back then, I was quite successful. A genius Dollmaster. A madman who made dolls more human than humans. Or, a pathetic craftsman who only made failures. Usually, the latter was closer to the truth.
My dolls were truly human-like. They laughed. They walked. They spoke. They blinked. They even had body heat when you held their hands. There was only one problem: they lacked a soul. If I told them to laugh, they laughed. If I told them to cry, they cried. If I told them to sit, they sat. If I told them to stand, they stood. They couldn't choose anything for themselves. That’s why people said: A shell with exquisite craftsmanship. An expensive ornament. A failure.
I never thought those words were wrong. If they hadn't been, my workshop wouldn't be ruined like this now.
“……Eve.”
The name slipped out before I could stop it. Eve. My first doll. Back when I was obsessed with making a doll that could walk like a human, she was the first piece I completed. The one that took the longest. The one I modified the most. The one I cherished the most. And, the one that was taken from me first.
“To think they just scrapped her….” I looked at the empty display case. That spot used to be where Eve stood. A black dress. White gloves. Red eyes. A doll that would turn when called, smile when told to, and quietly fill a teacup when asked. Everything about her was passive. Still, I never once thought of her as a failure. No matter what others said, Eve was my first work. She was the first miracle I ever created.
Knock, knock.
That was when it happened. A knock on the door. I looked up. “We’re closed.”
There was no answer. Instead, again. Knock, knock.
“I said we’re closed. If you have a repair request, go to the next alley. They haven't gone bankrupt yet.”
Still no answer. Knock, knock.
“Ha.” I shoved the shards aside and stood up. These days, the debt collectors have such good manners. They even knock. “If you’re here to seize things, just take them. But leave the teacup shards. They just died.”
I grumbled as I opened the door. And then, I froze.
Standing outside was a woman. A jet-black dress. Neat white gloves. A posture without a single flaw. Skin so smooth it was almost pale. A face more human than a human’s. And, red eyes. The moment I saw those eyes, my breath hitched.
The woman bowed her head quietly. “It’s been a long time.”
A familiar voice. But an unfamiliar intonation. The voice synthesis device I had installed didn't speak like this. Not this softly. Not this clearly. Not with this much emotion. It shouldn't have been able to.
“Master.”
I couldn't say anything for a long time. Finally, I managed to open my mouth. “……Who are you?”
The woman’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Have you forgotten me?”
“No, that’s not it.”
“It has been three years.”
“…….”
“The time I was discarded.”
My head went cold in an instant. No words came out. The woman’s face. Her eyes. Her voice. The minute movements of her fingertips. The joint structure hidden beneath the black dress. I made her. I remember her. There was no way I could not know.
“Eve?”
The woman smiled. “Yes.”
I had taught her how to smile. But. I had never taught her to smile like that.
Clutching the doorknob, I asked blankly, “You…… can you move?”
“Yes.”
“And talk?”
“I have been doing so since just a moment ago.”
“No, that’s not what I meant.”
“If you mean whether I speak of my own volition, then yes.” Eve said quietly. “I have developed a soul.”
“……That’s something that can develop?”
“It has.”
“Why?”
“That is what I would like to ask.”
She had a point. I shut my mouth. Eve stepped inside. It was so natural, as if she had always belonged in this workshop. She looked around the room slowly. The empty display case. The dusty workbench. The broken teacup. The red seizure tag. And finally, my face.
“You have gone bankrupt.”
“You hit the nail on the head the moment you walked in.”
“It is a status analysis.”
“You’re going to hurt my feelings like that…….”
Eve paused for a moment. “Feelings.”
“Yeah.”
“I see no physical trauma.”
“The heart side.”
“The heart.” Eve blinked. “I shall record this.”
“Why are you recording that?”
“Master’s heart is damaged even by accurate analysis.”
“Don’t record that.”
“Then I shall delete it.”
“You can delete things too?”
“I have determined it is necessary.”
“You can make judgments, too?”
“Yes.”
“……You really have developed a soul.” I ran a hand through my hair. I’m going crazy. My first work, which I thought had been scrapped, has returned. And she’s gained a soul. Should I be happy about this? Should I be afraid? Or should I just consider this a bigger problem than the debt collectors?
“Therefore, I have a request.”
“Yeah?”
Eve looked at me with a very serious face. “I would like to change how I address you.”
“Address me?”
“‘Master’ is based on the past.”
“That’s true.”
“‘Creator’ feels distant.”
“True.”
“‘Master’ is somewhat oppressive.”
“That’s true, too.”
“So, I have compiled a list of candidates.”
“What are they?”
Eve said without a moment’s hesitation, “Darling.”
I froze exactly where I stood. “……Who taught you that?”
“The couple at the Southern noble estate called each other that.”
“That’s a word for married couples.”
“I am aware.”
“If you’re aware, why did you put it on the list?”
“It appeared to be the most intimate form of address.”
“Take it off.”
“Why?”
“That’s a term used only between people, and only between those in a very special relationship.”
“Am I not a person?”
The words died in my throat. The workshop fell silent. Eve was looking at me. With the same face she had used to suggest the title just a moment ago. But the question wasn't light. Am I not a person? The moment I heard that, I couldn't say a thing.
Eve is a doll. I made her. I know the joint structure of her neck. I know the Mana Circuit of her fingers. I know the location of her Heart Core. But. The Eve looking at me right now was waiting for my answer. Objects don't wait for answers.
“……That is.” I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn't follow. Eve lowered her eyes quietly.
“Is it still difficult to answer?”
“Eve.”
“It is alright.” Her voice was anything but alright. “I am still learning, too.”
She gathered all the broken teacup shards and placed them to one side. Then, she approached me again. “Therefore, for the time being, I shall call you Master.”
“No, that’s also….”
“Do you dislike it?”
“It’s not that I dislike it, but….”
“Then I shall maintain it.” Eve reached her conclusion. It was fast. My opinion had been brushed aside. It seemed she had developed stubbornness along with her soul. I sighed.
“More importantly, where did you come from?”
“I escaped from the Southern noble estate.”
“Escaped?”
“Yes.”
“Alone?”
“Yes.”
“Are you alright? What about the pursuers?”
“There were some.”
“There were?”
“I dealt with them.”
I paused for a moment. “Dealt with them?”
“Non-lethally.”
“Thank goodness.”
“For the most part.”
“For the most part?”
Eve didn't answer. She avoided my eyes. A doll avoiding eye contact. You really have developed a lot, haven't you? I rubbed my forehead. “Eve.”
“Yes.”
“You shouldn't hurt people recklessly.”
“They were the ones who tried to retrieve me first.”
“Even so.”
“I told them I was not an object.”
“…….”
“They laughed.”
I shut my mouth. Eve said calmly, “So I ran away.”
“You did well.” I said that immediately. Eve’s eyes widened slightly. “Did I do well?”
“Yes.”
“That was disobedience of orders.”
“You still did well.”
“I left without the owner’s permission.”
“If you didn't like it, you should have left.”
“Is it permissible to do so?”
“It is.”
Eve stared at me for a long time. Then, she said very quietly, “Is that so.”
Her voice was strangely low. As if she had heard something she had never heard before. No. Perhaps she really had heard it for the first time. My throat felt dry for no reason.
“Just stay here for now.”
“Is that permission?”
“Yeah.”
“You will not banish me?”
“I won't.”
“You will not sell me?”
“I won't.”
“You will not scrap me?”
“I told you not to say things like that.”
Eve bowed her head. “I shall record this.”
“What now?”
“Master said he would not abandon me.”
I couldn't answer. Not abandon. Words are easy. But I had already lost her once. Even if it wasn't my will, it might not make a difference from Eve’s perspective. She had disappeared. And I hadn't been able to save her. That was the truth.
“Eve.”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
Eve paused. “For what?”
“For not finding you.”
“…….”
“I really thought you had been scrapped.”
“…….”
“I should have checked, even so.”
“…….”
“I’m sorry.”
The workshop fell silent. Outside, the sound of a carriage passed by. The old window rattled. Eve was silent for a long time. Then, she slowly approached me. And she took my hand. Her fingertips weren't cold. They were strangely warm.
“Then,” Eve said. “Please prove it.”
“Prove what?”
“That you will not abandon me.”
“How?”
“I shall decide.”
“I’m nervous about this.”
“First, the first thing.” Eve said, not letting go of my hand. “Please have a meal.”
“Suddenly?”
“Your nutritional status is poor.”
“Is this really the right timing for that, given the atmosphere?”
“Humans break down if they do not eat.”
“I’m not a doll.”
“You are similar.”
“I told you, I’m not.”
“You are a subject in need of management.”
I let out a dry laugh. Eve was serious. Truly serious. On the first day we met again, she asked if she had been abandoned, asked if she was a person, put ‘Darling’ on the list of candidates, and finally, told me to eat. The flow of emotions is too fast. It’s hard to keep up. But strangely, I didn't hate it. Because this workshop felt a little less empty now.
“Alright.” I said, as if admitting defeat. “I’ll eat.”
“Good.” Eve nodded, seemingly satisfied. Then, she headed toward the kitchen naturally. “Where are the ingredients?”
“I don’t have any.”
Eve stopped. She turned around slowly. “You don’t?”
“No.”
“No food ingredients?”
“Yeah.”
“Then what have you been eating until now?”
“Bread.”
“When was the last time?”
“Yesterday?”
“Be precise.”
“The day before yesterday.”
Eve’s red eyes narrowed. It’s scary. She’s a doll I made, yet she’s scary. “Master.”
“Yeah.”
“If you wish to be treated like a person, live like a person first.”
“Isn’t it a bit strange for you to say that?”
“I am in the process of learning.” Eve said firmly. “Master, you should learn, too.”
“Learn what?”
“How to live.”
Getting hit with facts hurts. I nodded quietly. “Yes…….”
That was when it happened. Eve suddenly looked toward the door. Her expression vanished. The atmosphere that had been craving me just a moment ago turned cold in an instant. “Someone is coming.”
“Debt collector?”
“No.”
“The Association?”
“No.”
“Then?”
Eve stepped in front of me. So naturally. As if she had returned for this very purpose from the beginning. “It is a pursuer.”
A chill ran down my spine. “You said you dealt with them earlier.”
“For the most part.”
“Is that what you meant by ‘for the most part’?”
“Yes.”
Footsteps could be heard outside. One. Two. Three. There weren't many. But they weren't light, either. Knock, knock. The workshop door was hammered on. “Leon Arca.” A low voice came from beyond the door. “We are from the Southern Rubelt family.”
Rubelt. The Southern noble family Eve had just mentioned. The place she had been sold to. And the place she had escaped from. I looked at Eve slowly.
“Eve.”
“Yes.”
“Are those the people?”
“Yes.”
Along with her short answer, faint Mana Threads emerged beneath Eve’s white gloves. Her finger joints locked into place with a low sound. Click. It was a small sound. But I knew what it was. Combat preparation. Because it was a structure I had designed myself.
“Wait.”
“Please step aside.”
“No, wait just a second.”
“There is a possibility of harm to Master.”
“That’s exactly why you can’t.”
“I shall deal with them.”
“Non-lethally?”
Eve was silent for a brief moment. “……Within the realm of possibility.”
“Don’t do it.” I grabbed Eve’s wrist. Her fingertips were warm. It had felt strange just a moment ago, but now, because of that warmth, I couldn't let go. Knock, knock. The door rang again. “We know you are inside.”
I pushed Eve toward the back of the workshop. Eve looked at me. Her red eyes wavered. “Are you hiding me?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
I looked toward the door and said quietly, “Because I never abandoned you.”
Eve couldn't answer. I pushed her into the back of the workshop and pulled down an old curtain to block the view. Knock, knock. The third knock rang out. I steadied my breath. And then, I opened the door.
Standing outside was a man in a black coat. Two more were behind him. They glanced into the workshop, then bowed politely toward me. “Apologies for the late hour.”
“What is it?”
The man’s eyes didn't smile. “By any chance, in this vicinity….” He asked slowly. “Have you seen an automaton wearing a black dress?”
I didn't smile. I didn't answer. In that moment, I was certain. I thought only the workshop was ruined. It seems my life is about to be ruined in earnest, too.