It didn’t bother me. I saw it like a last reprieve before all hell broke loose, but Carter would say that was just because I was too stupid for anxiety.
I couldn’t much argue with that.
Still, dumb or not, the fact that I wasn’t snapping and bothered said maybe my way had some merit.
“So I’ll be able to walk again?” The woman who asked sat on the exam table asked the question with this dimmed hope, as though she refused to allow herself to think it was possible.
I had my hand on her knee, the job so easy I hardly had to think about it at all. I was used to dealing with life-threatening injuries, so a torn ligament in her knee, one that had caused her to limp for the past few weeks, was hardly even a job.
I wasn’t a regular surgeon, though, I could repair in a way no human could, no matter how skilled.
“If you’d waited another few weeks, I probably couldn’t do much, but I think I can get this back to working order.”
“Are there any side effects?” She shifted on the table, discomfort clear even if she didn’t want to voice the reason behind it.
I gave her a reassuring smile. In training I’d learned how to use my power to best heal, to do what it took to get an esper back on their feet and into the fight again. Things like long-term damage didn’t factor into the process, and they certainly never taught bedside manner.
I knew exactly what she was afraid of even without her having to ask.
“You’re not going to get hurt from my powers.”
“I heard that people exposed to it can turn into espers or guides…”
“Those are mostly rumors.”
“Mostly?”
I didn’t care for lying even if, at times like these, they’d make my job a lot easier. “There are a few cases where it’s happened, but it’s hard to say it wouldn’t have happened anyway. Basically, a lot of corrupted energy can trigger a change in someone who already had that predisposition. But I’m talking a lot, not the amount that would be used for this.”
Even with that, she didn’t immediately agree. I understood it—no one wanted their entire life to change like that.
Sure, espers had some wonderful abilities, but they were also bound to the Guild, to violence, to this way of life. Everything she knew would change if she did.
“Can you promise that it wouldn’t happen to me?”
I sighed and shook my head. “No, I can’t make that promise. I can say that I’m good at what I do, that I can use far less energy than most healers to fix your knee, but no one can give you a hundred percent. Even if you undergo traditional surgery, you could die on the operating table. Nothing is ever a for-sure bet in life.”
She nibbled on her bottom lip, and I knew in that look the truth.
She’d rather risk death than risk turning into me.
And worse, I could hardly blame her for that.
“I’ll think about it,” she said and slid off the table.
I nodded and handed her the cane she’d come in with, the one meant to help her move around. She was a nurse here, one tasked with taking care of the non-espers who required treatment. I’d offered to look at her knee when I’d seen her limping around during my shift at the clinic.
She’d probably said yes before even thinking about the potential complications.
After she walked out, it left me alone in the exam room with nothing to do. I didn’t even have an official shift here, having volunteered out of boredom, mostly.
Healers were only needed when someone was actually hurt, and our skills had little use outside of that. It meant that these long days where nothing was happening left us with even less to do than the other more combat-focused espers.
A knock on the door had me calling for them to enter. A few espers had shown up with older injuries, hoping I might be able to help.
I’d done something for some, at least reducing some scar tissue or inflammation. The older the injury, the less I could do, but I tried to give at least some sense of reprieve to those who showed up.
The last person I expected to enter was Yun, however, and given the way she froze like a rat caught in the light, she hadn’t expected it either.
