It Stings

From ancient times, blood, that is, human blood, was not a very popular material. Even as a magical catalyst, unless one intended to curse an individual, there was always the blood of more potent monsters available.

Even if it were needed, humans were plentiful.

Of course, among them, blood from blessed lineages or unique mixed-bloods was in high demand, but obtaining it was like plucking a star from the sky.

So… perhaps because it wasn’t a very familiar material, I hadn’t thought of it?

There was also a physiological aversion.

If you say I’m making a fuss while readily using monster blood, I suppose I have nothing to say.

Even the Healing Potion I sometimes drank contained troll blood.

Well, I hope you’ll consider it a matter of personal preference.

It’s similar to a vampire choosing raw blood when given the option between blood sausage soup and animal blood.

If you ask why I’m suddenly spouting nonsense… it’s probably because something came up that requires blood.

I saw Cecil’s face, smiling brightly, sitting in the chair opposite me.

Today, too, her smile was flawlessly bright.

She said she’d help with anything… but I couldn’t help but feel hesitant. I couldn’t help but feel guilty. Still… it would be better than Reverse Synthesis.

Steeling my resolve, I showed Cecil the well-prepared knife.

The sharply honed, bluish blade gleamed ominously. It felt as if it could cleave through anything.

My hand trembled slightly.

“Asha-nim?”

“Yeah…”

A small beaker was placed on the table.

Anyone quick-witted would have realized what was about to happen. I had also prepared medicine for immediate treatment, so there wouldn’t be any problems.

But… why did I feel so uneasy?

As I stood there, unable to say anything and sweating profusely, Cecil tilted her head and spoke.

“Do you have something to ask of Cecil?”

…She was indeed very quick-witted.

I sighed and opened my mouth. Delaying it further would only waste time.

“Um… it might be a bit unsettling, but… I need a little of Cecil’s blood… no, her blood? So just a little… Ah, if you’re uncomfortable, it’s fine to refuse.”

When I said that cautiously, Cecil replied with a clear smile.

“It’s fine. If Asha-nim wishes it, as much as you need.”

…It was a little scary. A favor that felt almost blind. Compared to an organ transplant, it was merely drawing blood, but she accepted it with a smile, without a hint of hesitation.

If you asked if I felt good or bad, it was closer to ‘good,’ yet…

Or perhaps my sensibilities, having memories of a past life, were strange.

Is this the relationship between a Homunculus and its Master? I don’t know.

Now that I think about it, Cecil seems a little different from the Homunculi in the texts. Whether there were no records of them feeling emotions, or if it was omitted because there was no need to describe it, there was certainly no mention of Homunculi smiling or expressing emotions.

Considering Master doesn’t say anything special about it, perhaps I’m overreacting.

Or perhaps it’s described in texts I haven’t seen.

“Asha-nim?”

…Right, this isn’t the time to think about that.

Just as I’ve changed, perhaps it’s easier to think that Cecil has also become… a little unique.

Yes, let’s think that way.

“…Then, I’ll ask for your help.”

“Yes!”

When I handed her the knife, Cecil cut her palm without hesitation. It was a bold movement, without a trace of fear.

Rather, it was I whose face turned pale at the sight.

“Ce-Cecil, if you cut it so suddenly like that…”

Blood flowed from Cecil’s palm, dripping into the beaker, drip, drip.

Watching the pristine white beaker turn red, my hand trembled slightly. Cecil tilted her head as if asking what the problem was, and squeezed and released her palm to make the blood flow out better.

“Asha-nim? What’s wrong?”

“…”

Seeing her like this, it truly hits home that she is a being different from humans.

However, Cecil’s blood was redder than any human’s.

It was like a red jewel.

When the small beaker was about half full, I firmly pressed Cecil’s hand with a handkerchief.

“Asha-nim?”

“That’s enough…”

Cecil’s seemingly healthy face looked a little pale, though only slightly.

I opened the medicine box I had placed on the table, removed the blood-stained handkerchief, and carefully applied the ointment. Cecil was smiling, looking at me without showing any sign of pain.

As if she was happier that I was applying medicine and caring for her.

Waiting for the wound to heal, I spoke to Cecil.

“…Didn’t it hurt?”

“It stung a little, but if I think of it as helping Asha-nim, it’s fine.”

“…”

What should I say?

Do I have the right to say anything?

Her blind devotion, like a duckling imprinted on its mother.

In a way, no, didn’t I make her that way?

“Cecil.”

“Yes! Asha-nim!”

…That’s why I must say it.

“…Please think about your body a little. If it hurts, say it hurts, and if you don’t like something, you can say you don’t like it; I won’t blame you.”

Cecil still tilted her head, as if she didn’t understand.

“Cecil didn’t hurt much. Besides, it was Asha-nim’s request, so I don’t dislike it!”

“…I see.”

Confirming that the blood flowing from Cecil’s hand had stopped, I approached her and hugged her.

“…If something like that happens again later, please be sure to tell me then.”

“Understood!”

Whether she truly understood… I don’t know. Cecil seemed happy just from me hugging her and stroking her head. As if she didn’t care about anything else.

…Blind love.

Somehow, my mouth felt bitter.

Shouldn’t I do something for her? That thought occurred to me.

When I learned about transactions from Claudia, I used them well, but lately, she hasn’t made any demands.

…Though I hadn’t done anything that warranted such a demand either.

So, I should take care of her.

“Cecil.”

“Yes!”

“Is there anything you… might want?”

“Something I want?”

Cecil lifted her head from my embrace and looked at me with sparkling eyes.

…Seeing her honest expression at times like this, it makes me think that perhaps her way of thinking is just a little different.

“Yes, since you’ve shared your blood with me… it’s fine to ask for a suitable price in return.”

“Hmm… that’s difficult. Cecil is happy just being like this.”

I chuckled and stroked Cecil’s hair.

“You don’t need to think about it so hard. Something you wanted to eat on the way here from our Workshop is fine, or clothes you want to try on would be good. Or even a toy would be fine.”

Since she loves eating so much… I thought she might want food. Since she can’t properly take care of her own share, I have no choice but to take care of it for her.

Cecil, who had been pondering for a moment, smiled brightly and whispered something into my ear.

…I was flustered by her unexpected request. Perhaps Cecil sensed it, as her face quickly turned sullen.

“Is it… not possible?”

…Why is she so quick-witted?

Some alchemists apparently dislike quick-witted children; could this be why?

Cecil’s dilemma had now passed to me.

Is it… as difficult as tearing open a palm and spilling blood? I don’t know about this.

Scratching my cheek, I replied to Cecil, who was looking at me with sullen eyes.

“…Alright. But for now, I need to take your blood… so later.”

“Really?!”

“…Of course.”

Come to think of it, isn’t this my karma?

…I should prepare as much as I can. I’ll have to prepare in my spare time while researching the blood.

Leaving her with instructions to rest for a while since she had spilled blood, I picked up the beaker, where the red blood sloshed, and left the room.

Since some time had been delayed, I had to hurry to Master’s Workshop.

Opening the Workshop door, I saw Master burning Spirit Grass and Veronica reading a book. Perhaps they heard the door open, as our eyes met.

Then Master extinguished the Spirit Grass she was burning, and Veronica closed her book.

Master opened her mouth.

“Were there any problems?”

“…No.”

“I see… You look more troubled than that child.”

“…A little.”

Master took the beaker containing Cecil’s blood and first placed it in the Preservation Box. Because if it solidified, it would be completely useless.

However… the atmosphere was unusual. Master, who had placed the beaker in the Preservation Box, was now approaching me, holding a knife.

I flinched and recoiled, but felt a soft cliff behind me.

Veronica’s ant-like voice was heard.

“…Sorry.”

Veronica, having apologized, held my body firmly. With my weakened body, I couldn’t escape Veronica’s grasp. My heart began to pound fiercely.

“W-wait a minute. This isn’t what I’m thinking, is it?”

“Of course it is. It’s not just that child who’s an outlier; you are too.”

Struggling only resulted in me rubbing against Veronica’s warm body, rub-rub.

The bluish blade drew closer.

“P-please be gentle…”

“Will it hurt less if I stab you gently?”

…I guess so. Fuck!

I cried tears inwardly.

I never thought ‘you look more troubled’ would mean this.