“Miss Scarlet, just sit still! I’m taking care of it!”

During lunchtime, as I was filling my plate with food, Sylvia shouted, fidgeting anxiously.

The academy meals are buffet-style, so there’s a place to set my plate in front of me, and I can totally handle it alone…

Since she saw my arm, Sylvia has been glued to me like a shadow at school. Whenever I try to do anything that could be even slightly inconvenient, she insists on handling it for me, just like now.

Of course, I rejected everything I could manage on my own.

I understand her desire to help, but still, receiving assistance from Sylvia feels a bit… awkward.

“I can manage this by myself, so it’s all good.”

“Well then, at least let me carry your plate…”

“I’m really fine, I promise.”

Saying that, I effortlessly lifted the plate piled high with food with one hand.

If my arm strength had been like this before, it sure would have made things easier during my part-time jobs.

Thinking of that, as I walked in search of an empty seat, Sylvia hurried ahead, sat down first, and pulled out the chair next to her, signaling for me to sit.

Honestly, her insistence on doing something for me is kind of overwhelming…

I nodded in appreciation toward Sylvia while suppressing a bitter smile.

The following lunch with Sylvia felt particularly quiet today.

When we eat together, we usually at least chat a bit while eating, but today she seemed to have no intention of starting a conversation. She silently moved her utensils in sync with my eating pace.

Even though she wasn’t talking, she was staring at me intensely.

During the meal, I could feel a fiery gaze from my left, as if a hole could be burned into my cheek.

Glancing to see where that penetrating gaze was directed, I found Sylvia’s sulky face.

It was an expression that clearly screamed, “I’m upset.”

She’s not usually so expressive…

“…Sylvia, are you mad or something?”

“…I’m not angry.”

It was obvious that she was. Her frustrated expression was unmistakable. When I gazed at her intently, as if waiting for an explanation, she seemed to realize how she was acting and blushed slightly out of embarrassment.

After a moment of hesitation, Sylvia finally spoke.

“Why do you insist on doing everything by yourself… I want to help you, but you keep acting like you don’t need my support…”

She looked at me with pleading eyes.

“I’d like you to rely on me a bit more… We’re friends, after all.”

Even though she was taller than me, the words and demeanor of Sylvia gave off the vibe of a small animal looking up at me.

My heart raced wildly at her cute appearance.

…Truth be told, more than half of my feelings were stirred up by the intense guilt from her words.

I tried to hold back my expression from breaking as I explained to Sylvia.

“It’s just that I’m not really the type to like receiving help from others…”

“But still…”

Why does she want to do so much for me…?

With guilt and obligation already screaming inside me, I couldn’t ignore those eyes pleading “I want to help you!” so I had no choice but to find a compromise.

“Then, when something comes up that I absolutely can’t handle alone, I’ll ask for your help. I’ll let you know when that happens…”

I said this, resolving not to create any more emotional debts toward her.

“You’re really stubborn, Miss Scarlet…”

Sylvia shook her head, then, with a sparkle (or determination?) in her eyes, looked at me.

“Got it. If you need help, I’ll do everything I can to assist you.”

She seemed filled with determination, despite my casual remark not justifying such a serious response.

I shook my head inwardly.

But it seemed that because of our conversation just now, Sylvia’s face was already noticeably brighter than before.

Feeling a bit better, I noticed her ears perked up.

Time to give her the macarons.

Wrapping up my meal, I took out a somewhat clumsily packaged macaron from my pocket and handed it to Sylvia.

“This… did you make these?”

Sylvia seemed startled as she accepted the macarons.

Given my arm, she probably never expected homemade macarons.

Honestly, I was unsure if it would work too, but it was doable, even if it was a little troublesome.

The tricky part about macarons is making the meringue, but you can manage the batter while sitting on the floor, holding the bowl with your feet, and mixing one-handed.

As Sylvia unwrapped the packaging, the irregularly shaped macarons revealed themselves inside, causing her to gulp.

“I’m sorry… I couldn’t make them look pretty today. I’ll make them nice next time.”

I felt awkward as I apologized to Sylvia since I could clearly see they looked a bit off.

I had forgotten that I ran out of piping bags last time, and realized it only after finishing the dough. Since it seemed a waste to throw it away, I shaped it with a spoon, which resulted in their current look.

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

Thinking that way as I looked at Sylvia,

“…”

She gazed at the macarons with a shock that seemed to transform her expression. Her face… looked like a macaron.

*

“Here’s our company!”

Jessi cheerfully exclaimed.

I glanced up at the building marked “Ruthenia” and was awestruck by its size.

Ruthenia Co.

Originally famous for construction and material distribution, it had recently gained fame for developing combat prosthetics using sturdy materials employed in construction.

After Jessi asked if I could stop by for a prosthetic assessment after class, I followed her here immediately after school.

“To create a prosthetic that can be used in combat, we need detailed measurements of your abilities, especially since your powers are fire-based.”

Jessi explained, leading me into the measuring room located in the basement of the building.

“Normally, you’d need an expert for ability measurement, but luckily, someone from that field was hanging around at home, so I called them for help today. Let me introduce you. This is my older brother.”

The person Jessi introduced was someone I already knew.

“Oh? So the person coming here for the measurement today is you, miss?”

A burly man with thinning hair looked surprised as he recognized me.

He was the same guy I had encountered when I went to demonstrate superpowers before.

I never expected that he would be the older brother of a classmate.

Feeling a bit pleased, I nodded slightly in greeting.

“Oh? Does Scarlett know my brother? Ever since he lost his job, he’s been cooped up at home all day—how do you know him?”

Jessi’s blunt remark made the man’s face fall.

Looking somewhat pitiful with a wry smile, he explained that we had casually met.

Despite it being a perfectly legitimate part-time job, if I accidentally mentioned that I had spent a nice time with his brother at a motel, my image at school would plummet immediately.

Fortunately, the conversation moved on without any issues, but now it was the man’s turn to ask a question.

“Miss, why the sudden need for ability measurement? You don’t seem like someone who’d need a prosthetic.”

I glanced at Jessi, who nodded in agreement.

Well, being family, he probably has a general idea of what had happened.

As I removed the gemstone from my left arm, he paused for a moment and began the measurements without any further questions.

The measurements involved laying out various materials and seeing how much firepower I could produce while holding each one to determine which materials were compatible.

When I asked if it wouldn’t just be easier to take the one that burns the least, I received the answer that there weren’t many materials that could balance everything: fire resistance, weight, and strength.

Hearing the phrase “maximum firepower,” I recalled the moment I plunged my left arm into a lethargic beast’s body and ignited it, but I instinctively knew that blasting flames like that again would be dangerous.

Right now, my body subconsciously had a limit to protect itself, but if I unleashed my full power without restraining it, my entire body could end up burning, as my left arm did.

So I finished measuring with flames that seemed to be the maximum I could produce without injuring myself.

“Well, the measurement’s roughly done. Do you have any specific functions you’d like for the prosthetic? We could potentially make it shoot magic blasts, but it’d depend on compromising the weight a bit…”

For some reason, as Jessi fixated on the idea of a magic cannon, I began to sweat and think of what features would be useful for the prosthetic.

Honestly, every guy’s fantasy is the rocket punch, but that’s quite impractical…

In the current situation, just having a sturdy arm was all it seemed to be.

Then an idea flickered in my mind: what if I incorporated the black shard I always kept in my uniform pocket into the prosthetic, then I could also use fire punches.

I recalled the guardian’s warning about not showing it to anyone, but if I didn’t show it, the prosthetic could seem a bit vague.

After some deliberation, I took out the shard to show both Jessi and her brother.

The moment they saw it could emit flames even when separated from my body, Jessi’s brother’s eyes sparkled with excitement as he asked if he could study it, but I quickly declined, stating it was impossible.

He looked extremely disappointed.

“Anyway, I hope to make the prosthetic capable of emitting fire with this, and if possible, I’d like a ranged attack method incorporated. Only being able to do close combat makes things quite difficult.”

As soon as Jessi heard my requests, she began contemplating deeply.

“Hmm, I might need to ask a few other people for some good ideas… The measurements are done, so you can go now. I’ll contact you as soon as the prosthetic is ready, could you please give me your contact information?”

I handed my contact details to Jessi.

Once I put the shard back in my pocket, adjusted the gemstone on my arm, and slipped the ring back on, I exited the building as the sun began to set.

“…Wait? Number 10?”

As I stepped outside, a silver-haired elf man with glasses approached me, his eyes sparkling.

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

Thinking he seemed a bit odd, I took a small step back and asked.

“Who are you?”

“Um… May I ask you a question? Are your hair dyed?”

“No….”

“…I’m sorry. I must have confused you with someone else.”

He scanned me with a peculiar expression before bowing his head slightly.

I wondered if he was like the guardian and perhaps knew me, but it didn’t seem so.

Suddenly, I recalled a moment when a girl in the street, who might have been a witch, confused me with another person, and I felt a strange sensation wash over me.

Do I really have that many lookalikes?

Just then, the elf took a step forward with an unusual look and asked, “By the way, are you a friend of Sylvia’s?”

A cold shiver ran down my spine.

Oh no, how did he know?

Is he a stalker?

Startled, I took a step back, then realized he was an elf from Astra.

Sylvia must have mentioned me to her family.

I nodded slowly.

He then smiled widely. “Please take good care of Sylvia. Whatever you do, don’t harbor any bad thoughts towards her.”

That smile of his held an ominous glint in his eyes.

“The Astra family never forgets favors or grudges.”

With those words, he adjusted his glasses with gloved hands and re-entered the building I had just come from.

…He was a rather unsettling individual.

By the way, since Sylvia was brought up, I suddenly recalled something I almost forgot.

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