Chapter 51: Academy Heroine's Right Diagonal Back Seat

Chapter 51

"Scarlet, please just sit down! I'll take care of it!"

During lunchtime, as I was filling my plate with food, Sylvia fussed around me, shouting in distress.

The academy's meals are buffet-style, so there's a place to put the plate in front, and I can do it by myself...

Ever since she saw my arm, Sylvia had been sticking close to me at school. Whenever I tried to do anything that might be slightly inconvenient, she insisted on doing it for me, just like now.

Of course, I refused all the things I could handle on my own.

I understood her desire to help, but still, it was a bit much to receive help from Sylvia.

"This is something I can handle on my own, so it's fine."

"Then at least let me carry it for you..."

"It's really fine."

I said this while easily lifting the food-laden plate with one hand. 

If my arm strength had been like this before, it would have made working part-time as a server much easier.

With that thought, I walked to find an empty seat. Sylvia quickly walked ahead, sat down, and pulled out the chair next to her, signaling for me to sit.

Her eagerness to do something for me was overwhelming...

I nodded to Sylvia in appreciation while hiding a bitter smile.

Today's lunch with Sylvia was unusually quiet.

When we ate together, we usually made small talk, but today, Sylvia seemed to have no intention of initiating a conversation. She quietly followed my pace, moving her utensils without speaking.

Though she wasn't speaking, she was staring intently at me.

Throughout the meal, I could feel an intense gaze from my left, as if a hole might be burned into my cheek.

When I glanced sideways, I saw Sylvia's sullen face.

It was a look that clearly said, "I'm upset."

She wasn't usually so expressive...

"...Sylvia, are you upset?"

"...No, I'm not."

It was clear that she was, though. Her expression of frustration was evident. When I stared at her intently, she seemed to realize how she was acting and blushed slightly out of embarrassment.

After a moment of hesitation, Sylvia spoke.

"Why do you insist on doing everything alone... I want to help you, but you keep acting like you don't need my help..."

She looked at me with pleading eyes.

"I wish you would rely on me a bit more... We’re friends, right?"

Despite being taller than me, Sylvia’s words and demeanor made her seem like a small animal looking up at me.

My heart pounded furiously from her cute expression.

...Though part of it was the immense guilt her words stirred up.

I tried to keep my face steady as I explained to Sylvia.

"Well, I'm not really the type to like receiving help from others..."

"But still..."

Why does she want to do so much for me...

My inner self was screaming that this was unbearable due to the guilt and sense of debt, but looking into her eyes, which were practically shouting "I want to help you!" made me realize I had to compromise.

"Then, if there's ever something I absolutely can't handle on my own, I'll ask for your help. I'll definitely let you know when that time comes..."

I said this, determined not to create any more emotional debt with her.

"Scarlet, you’re really stubborn..."

Sylvia shook her head, then looked at me with determined eyes.

"Alright. If you ever need help, I'll do everything I can to assist you."

She seemed resolute, even though my casual words didn’t warrant such a serious response.

I shook my head internally.

But it seemed our conversation had lifted Sylvia’s spirits, making her face much brighter than before.

Maybe because she was feeling better, her ears were twitching slightly.

Time to give her the macarons.

As I finished my meal, I took out some clumsily wrapped macarons from my pocket and handed them to Sylvia.

“Did you make these yourself?”

Sylvia seemed surprised as she accepted the macarons.

Given my arm, she probably didn’t expect homemade macarons.

Honestly, I wasn’t sure it would work out either, but it turned out to be manageable, albeit a bit cumbersome.

The hard part about macarons is making the meringue, but the batter can be managed even with one arm if you hold the mixing bowl with your feet while sitting on the floor.

When Sylvia unwrapped the package, she saw the misshapen macarons inside and swallowed hard.

“Sorry... I couldn’t make them look pretty today. I’ll make them nicer next time.”

Even I thought they looked bad, so I apologized to Sylvia.

I had forgotten that I used up all the piping bags last time, and I only realized it after making the batter. Not wanting to waste it, I shaped them with a spoon, resulting in their current appearance.

Next time, with a piping bag, I should be able to make them look decent again.

As I was thinking this and looking at Sylvia,

“...”

She was staring at the macarons with a shocked expression. Her face... looked like a macaron.

*

“This is our company!”

Jessi exclaimed cheerfully.

I looked up at the building labeled “Ruthenia” and was impressed by its size.

Ruthenia Corporation.

Originally known for construction and material distribution, the company had recently gained recognition for developing combat prosthetics using durable materials for construction.

Jessie had asked if I could spare some time for a custom prosthetic arm fitting, so I followed her here right after school.

“To create a prosthetic arm that can be used in combat, we need to measure your abilities in detail, especially since your abilities involve fire.”

Jessie explained as she led me to the measurement room in the building’s basement.

"Normally, measuring abilities requires an expert, but luckily, someone who used to work in that field has been idly hanging around at home, so I called them for help today. Let me introduce you. This is my older brother."

The person Jessie introduced was someone I already knew.

"Oh? So the person coming for measurements today is you, miss?"

A man with a robust build but a sadly lacking head of hair looked at me with a surprised expression.

He was the man I met during a demonstration of superpowers.

I never expected him to be the older brother of a classmate.

I bowed slightly in greeting, feeling a sense of familiarity.

"Wait, Scarlet, do you know my brother? He’s been out of a job and stuck at home all day. How do you know him?"

Jessie's blunt comment made the man's face fall.

Feeling sorry, I explained that we had met by chance.

Even though it was an innocent part-time job, I had to be careful not to accidentally mention that I had a fun time in a motel with her brother, or my reputation at school would plummet immediately.

Fortunately, the conversation moved on without further issue, but now the man had a question.

"Miss, why are you suddenly getting your abilities measured? You don’t seem to need a prosthetic arm."

I glanced at Jessie, who nodded.

Well, he was family, so he probably had a rough idea of what had happened.

When I removed the gemstone from my left arm's band, he let out a low hum and started the measurement without further questions.

The measurement involved laying out various materials and grasping each one with the maximum flame I could produce to see which materials were suitable.

When I asked if we could just use the one that was the most fire-resistant, he explained that there weren't many materials that balanced fire resistance, weight, and strength.

Hearing the term "maximum flame," I recalled the time I plunged my left arm into the lazy monster's body and ignited it, but I instinctively knew that releasing flames like that again would be dangerous.

While my body unconsciously limited itself to protect me, I feared that unleashing the full power could result in my whole body burning up, just like my left arm.

So, I completed the measurements using flames that felt like the maximum I could produce without harming my body.

"Well, the measurements are mostly done. Do you have any specific functions you want in the prosthetic? If we compromise on weight, we might be able to add a magic cannon or something."

Sweating nervously at Jessie's fixation on a magic cannon, I thought about what functions might be useful for the prosthetic.

Honestly, a man's dream is something like a rocket punch, but that's impractical...

With the current situation, a prosthetic arm would just be a strong arm. 

Then I had a sudden idea: if I could incorporate the black shard I always carried in my uniform pocket, I might be able to use fire punches with the prosthetic as well.

I remembered the caretaker’s warning not to show it to anyone, but without showing it, the prosthetic might not be effective.

After some thought, I showed the shard to Jessie and her brother.

Seeing that it could emit flames even when detached from my body, her brother’s eyes sparkled with curiosity, asking if he could study it. I refused, saying that wasn’t possible.

He looked very disappointed.

"Anyway, I'd like the prosthetic to be able to emit flames using this and, if possible, have a means of long-range attack. It’s tough only being able to do close combat."

Hearing my requirements, Jessie seemed to ponder deeply.

"Hmm, I might need to consult someone else for a good idea... The measurement is done, so you can go. I'll contact you when the prosthetic is ready, so could you give me your contact information?"

I handed Jessie my contact details.

After putting the shard back in my pocket, attaching the gemstone to my arm band, and putting on the ring I had removed for the measurements, I left the building as the sun was setting.

"…Huh? Number 10?"

As I stepped out, a silver-haired elf with glasses approached me with a sharp look.

Number 10? What’s that, a player number?

Thinking he might be a bit strange, I took a step back and asked,

"Who are you?"

"Uh… Can I ask you one question? Is that hair dyed?"

"No…"

"…I’m sorry. I must have mistaken you for someone else."

He scanned me up and down with a strange expression before bowing slightly.

I wondered if he was like the caretaker, someone who knew me, but it seemed not.

I recalled the girl with black and purple hair who mistook me for someone else on the street, and I felt odd for a moment.

Do I have so many lookalikes?

Suddenly, the elf stepped closer with a peculiar look and asked,

"By the way, are you a friend of Sylvia?"

A chill ran down my spine.

Damn, how did he know?

Is he a stalker?

Startled, I took another step back before realizing he was an elf from Astra.

Sylvia must have mentioned me to her family.

I nodded slowly.

He smiled broadly.

"Treat Sylvia well. Don’t even think of doing anything bad to her."

His smile held a threatening gleam in his eyes.

"The Astra family never forgets favors or grudges."

With that, he adjusted his glasses with his gloved hand and walked into the building I had just left.

…He was a rather unsettling person.

Thinking of Sylvia reminded me of something I almost forgot.

I need to stop by the store to get a piping bag before heading home.

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