Slowly but surely, he healed himself. It was a long, egregious process, a hand full of Divine Healing Water pressed to his shoulder. He gave a nod of appreciation to Manish who wordlessly slid a mango pulp. Manish’s shop was like his personal safe haven.
"Ah, she’s here." Kazi released his spell and waved a hand. The brunette that had just wandered in blinked, smiled, and ca over to the corner spot. The closer she ca, the weaker her smile beca until she fully stopped. "Sit, sit."
Elena did, albeit with great reluctance, her gaze glued to his left arm. "Kazi...? W-what happened to you?"
Kazi smiled and opened up his inventory. Piece by piece, he put down the scarlet prosthetics. They were as heavy as they seed. "These are the prosthetics that Marta needs."
"Huh—" Elena’s eyes went wide. Even with her ordinary gaze, she could tell these were truly special. "That’s...that’s wonderful! You got them from the Japanese Emperor?"
"I did."
Elena’s little celebration died as she considered the implications. "Wait...did...did they do this to you?"
Kazi’s smile remained as happy as it was. "Not a word to Marta."
"W-what?"
"Not a word," Kazi repeated. "Just help her put them on."
"Huh, but you..." The burns on his arm were terrible. Elena looked away from them. "You got them for her."
"But only you can help her get back up."
"That’s not true, you’re her teacher. She looks up to you more than . She’ll listen and do whatever you say."
"Will she?"
"Of course she will!"
Kazi looked at the prosthetics and inhaled sharply. His left eye ached. "At the end of the day, no matter how correct my words are, I...am blessed."
"Blessed...?"
He t her gaze, smiling with emotion she could not grasp. "Who has been helping her eat? Who has been supporting her when she tries to walk? Who has been staying by her side all this ti? It’s not . I’ve been bringing groceries and making her stuff, but I didn’t take care of her. You did, Elena. That’s why it has to be you. If she hears words of encouragent from soone like , soone that has been fighting in the Heavenly Gas and growing stronger and stronger with a smile...she’ll break. Please. Do it for her."
***
Marta woke up.
She sat upright, and remained still. Lunch was set aside for her on the side table. She reached for her cup of black coffee and missed. She tried again. Her tal hand knocked the cup over. Everything was spilled. The ham and cheese sandwich Elena made was ruined. She picked the cup to try and stop the spill—and failed. The cup fell from the table and shattered on the floor.
Her breath hitched.
Other than that, Marta sat there on the bed, staring blankly at the ss before her. Her tal limbs felt foreign, disconnected from her body and incapable of performing the simplest tasks. She knew she should feel sothing—frustration, anger, sadness—but all she felt was emptiness.
She proceeded to reach for the ruined sandwich, her prosthetic fingers clumsily grasping at the bread and at. She brought it to her mouth and took a bite, but the taste was muted, bland, devoid of any pleasure or satisfaction.
She couldn’t even put on her glasses. Her sense of balance was so terrible that unless she had Elena, she couldn’t put them on or off. She could only keep them on. Her blonde hair was set loose, neither in a ponytail nor a simple bun. Even with her glasses, her left eye was there yet it wasn’t. She could see yet not like before. Never like before.
Marta Kowalski was incomplete. She was broken.
Elena soon arrived. Her appearance was marked by a big smile and locked hands. "Marta, good evening. Want to guess—oh."
Marta’s gaze remained fixed on the outline of her legs under the covers. She couldn’t bear to et Elena’s eyes, couldn’t bear to see the pity and sympathy that would be written there. Marta felt Elena’s motherly warmth co beside her and kneel down. The blonde didn’t look. She knew that Elena was cleaning up the spilled coffee and shattered cup.
Marta continued to eat the ruined sandwich.
Elena didn’t comnt on Marta’s struggle. She cleaned without complaint, without judgent.
Every tiny crunch, every little sound agitated her—and brought her guilt. Marta had been useless before but not like this.
’No,’ Marta told herself. ’You’ve always been useless like this. You’ve always been incapable of cleaning your own room.’
She rembered when Elena first arrived to see her injured state. The expression of shock was burned into her mind. The tears, the pity, the remarks of comfort. "It’s going to be okay," Elena repeated over and over again.
Marta hated it. She hated the humiliation and there was nothing she could do about it.
"Want to guess what I got you?" Elena asked once she was done cleaning up.
’I don’t care.’
Instead, Marta mumbled, "What?"
"New glasses." Elena went over and sat on the chair beside her. What the middle-aged woman had been hiding in her locked hands was a small case for glasses. She opened it up and gestured for Marta to take it. Her shoulder ached as she attempted to grab it. Elena nudged it forward and Marta almost snapped.
’I can do it. I can.’
Her temper rose and fell in an instant and she was left with nothing. It was just...there. It was how she always felt. A surge of emotions would take over her then disappear into the void of her heart. Elena plopped it into her tal hand and smiled weakly.
From there, Marta put the case on her lap and began to take the glasses out. Ah, but wait—
"Your old glasses. Let ..." Elena leaned forward and slid them out. Marta let it happen. All that was left was to put on the glasses.
She refused to have Elena help her with that.
Marta’s tal fingers grappled with the fras of her new glasses, their cold touch feeling awkward against the delicate hinges. She struggled to find the right angle to grip them, her prosthetic hands lacking the finesse and dexterity of her natural hands. After a frustrated grunt, Marta finally managed to place the glasses on her face.
"Thank you, Elena," Marta murmured, her voice lacking any genuine enthusiasm. She put the glasses on, adjusting them on her face, but they felt like a foreign object perched on her nose.
It was like nothing felt right anymore.
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