Thanks to the intensive care over the past few days, Piel’s body had changed remarkably.
When I first brought her here, she was so emaciated that her bones seemed ready to poke through her skin, leaving the inside of her bandages visibly sunken.
But now, she’d gained weight in proportion to the food I’d made sure she ate, and color was starting to return to her skin.
It was also pleasant to see a faint spark of vitality in her face now that the swelling had subsided.
The problem was…
only her body had recovered.
Whenever she heard my words, her expression never changed at all.
She simply obeyed.
Whether I opened the door, told her to sit, or said to eat, her response was always the same.
For two whole days, I’d tried to get her to sit at the table, but Piel always ended up sliding down to the floor.
A beast cannot eat in the same place as humans.
That single sentence seemed to bind Piel completely.
So in the end, when I tore off a piece of meat and gave it to her, she would just eat it off the floor like a dog, without even using her hands.
Her body had come back to life, but her mind was still dead.
While cutting meat on the table, a deep sigh subtly escaped me.
‘Haa…
What a headache.’ Let’s say eating off the floor was the result of forced conditioning after being dragged here as a slave.
Even conceding a hundred times, one could think there was no helping it.
So I’d tried to at least change her clothes, but even that ran into a wall.
“Ah, no!
How could a wretch like me dare wear clothes meant for humans?
I should go naked every day instead, but I’m always grateful for even the sackcloth to hide this ugly body of mine!” Sigh…
Siiiiiiiiigh!
Is it normal for a girl who looks barely old enough for elementary school to spout lines like that without batting an eye?
Yet there she was, clutching her torn rags with both hands to hide her private parts whenever she stood alone, terrified they might peek through the gaps…
Her instinct to cover herself clashed with the implanted training that ‘hiding is a sin,’ leaving her completely twisted up.
So in the end, I changed tactics.
“Piel.
Sit next to me.
This is an ‘order’.” “An…
order?” “That’s right.
An order.” I said it calmly, but inside, it felt like walking on thin glass.
I now knew how heavy a simple “sit” was for this child.
Like applying disinfectant to a wound, it would sting and hurt, but I had to believe it would lead to healing in the end.
Today, as another huge barbecue platter arrived, Piel crawled to my side on reflex.
Though her frame was small, her movements were steeped in resignation and submission.
I gazed at her tiny back as she got down on all fours, then knelt before her.
To match her eye level.
I extended my hand slightly.
The moment my fingertips brushed her, Piel’s shoulders twitched.
She didn’t run, but the tension of a creature ready to bolt was palpable.
Yet I didn’t grip her hand tightly.
Just enough that she could pull away if she wanted, just enough to give her room to follow.
And I pulled up a chair—not across from me, but right beside, close enough our shoulders might brush.
“Truth is…
I don’t like looking down on people.” “I-Is that so?!” “Yeah.
So I’d like you to sit next to me.
And just so you know, this isn’t because you’re doing a good job.
It’s because I want it that way.
You just have to obey.” Even as I spoke, I had no sense of what words would ‘trigger’ her and which would feel ‘safe.’ My own fingertips trembled from it.
But there was no turning back now.
“C-Can…
Can I really do that?” “Of course.
You can.” The very fact that a beastkin like her would ask so timidly if she could sit next to a human was heartbreaking.
Still, Piel mustered her courage.
She stood trembling on tiptoes before the chair, then slowly—agonizingly cautiously—lowered herself onto it.
As if setting down a cracked bowl.
And I sat at the same moment.
Same height.
Same place.
A position where no one looked down on anyone.
In that brief instant, Piel held her breath.
Her body froze solid at the mere sound of me sitting beside her; she couldn’t move at all.
Yet she didn’t flee.
That alone felt like greater progress than any of my previous attempts.
Right up to that moment.
I was just someone who’d read about Piel’s hell in words.
Believing I’d understood it was the most horrific arrogance in front of this trembling child.
“Piel, shall we eat together then?
I’ll feed you, so just open your mouth.” “…” “…Piel?” “Hah…
Hah!” It happened in that instant.
In the few seconds it took to spear a piece of meat with my fork and turn to her.
The girl who’d just mustered the courage to sit was gone.
In her place on the chair huddled a beast.
Her shoulders convulsed, her teeth chattered, her eyes lost focus as they stared into some private nightmare.
Her breath came in heaving gasps, her hand rose to her mouth and bit into her own flesh.
She didn’t stop even as blood seeped out.
I knew at a glance.
This wasn’t mere surprise.
Breathing, pupils, muscle tension, self-harm—the hallmarks of a full-blown panic attack.
And the trigger?
My simple order to sit in the chair.
“Piel, look this way.
It’s okay, everyth—” Before I could finish, a strangled wail burst from her throat.
“W-Wheeeeeek!”