Day 3 - Wednesday - Legless
This little room where he lodged was his world these days. He had his own specially fitted bathroom, and he was getting in some drawing before the day started. A fan had wanted a special picture of his star character Abe Mikasa, the shape shifting magician, for his fourteenth birthday. His father, a wealthy banker, was paying manga's rising star, the artist Amano Doi, quite well for the job. That name hinted at his own but allowed him to keep a degree of anonymity in this profession which he'd fallen into when a nurse handed him a pencil and paper to pass the time in hospital.
He'd nearly finished the figure in pencil on a smooth cold pressed paper. This was labour intensive but meant incredible detail. The figure was around twenty centimetres high, and it was one of his better ones. You could even see the patterns in her clothing. The 16 year old character in front of him looked eerily familiar to the young woman yesterday. Like the new Mikoto she had her hair back in a ponytail, but instead of auburn hair she was blonde. The figure in front of him at a gecko hairclip, like Mikoto had Gekota. He'd created the character based on a friend he thought long dead. A friend he realised he'd often misunderstood when his mother sat him down and explained her to him after the Insurrection. With Mikoto very much alive, as of yesterday, he wasn't so sure he'd done the right thing in making her the inspiration for Mikasa.
Above his drawing board there were mementos of friends he'd tracked down over the last ten years. Fukiyose, the first he found. It was 9 years ago when he found her. His mother was pushing him along a pavement at the beach front in Otodama in Kaneda Bay. Next was Aogami Pierce, who was in even worst physical shape than he was and would never walk again. He'd found him when they were sent on the same wheelchair rehabilitation program. At an angle, a postcard from Othinus. Every piece of correspondence she sent him was on a 'Why you should visit the Tower of London' postcard. Like Index she was back in London due to Necessarius taking on the duties he could no longer perform. A photo of Index with Stiyl completed the set. Mikoto and Tsuchimikado had been the only two really missing, until Monday.
He put his pencil down and started to make his way to the hospital. Mikoto would be there in 10 minutes, and he wanted to spend every minute of the 3 hour slot they had with her. There was a sense he was moving forward in a way he hadn't for a long time. Out the door and along the ramp to the footpath. That was only twenty metres. Turn left and within another 30 metres he was pushing himself up a gentle tree lined incline (not so gentle in a wheelchair) up toward the hospital.
The next moment it felt like he was pushing nothing.
"Hi Touma. Have you been following your doctor's orders?"
"Yes Dr. Misaka." He tried to sound like the model student who always sat at the front of the class.
"Good. You'll be pleased to hear today will be less strenuous for you."
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"
"It depends, if you think me taking your legs apart and giving them a full service and diagnostic in front of you is a good or bad thing."
She'd explained this yesterday, and given this was Mikoto, he was inclined to think this was a good thing. The last couple of days had been a revelation, and that was just from a medical perspective. He turned around wondering what today would bring and was confronted by a young woman in chocolate brown overalls, her hair up in a bun, and what looked like one of those power tool bags you got from hardware stores. It was a lemon green shoulder bag with Ryobi written across it, and it matched in with the colour of the overalls.
He pointed as they took a wrong turn. "Aren't we going to the main room today? I thought we should turn right back there." His head kept looking at the corridor that led to the main rehabilitation room, but the wheelchair was stubbornly heading in a direction 90 degrees from where his head faced.
"Touma. I booked a smaller room today. It's not as if we are doing that much in the way of exercises. I'll do your legs, and with what little time we have left run through some of your routines."
In seconds they came to a much smaller treatment room, no bigger than the main living room of somebody's house. It was windowless, and obviously doubled as a meeting room. It's only concessions to medical use were a floor mat, a couple of medicine balls and a gym ball. That told him all he needed to know. He already had a good idea of what he'd be doing later today because he'd spent last night memorising the routines Mikoto had given him.
As soon as he applied the brakes he felt a head under his arm, and she gently stood him up. He'd never imagined anybody in overalls could smell that good, nor have that good a figure, as he looked down at the young woman supporting him. Then she put him down onto the floor flat on his back looking at the ceiling.
"Now Touma. I'll help you get your trousers off." He undid his belt and she quickly pulled them off with no hint of discomfort.
"You'd have blushed and tried to disappear if you did that 10 years ago."
"One day I may tell you about the clinics my tough love professor put me through to affect a cure."
She didn't lift her head and concentrated on his feet. All he could see was that she was doing something with her hand, and he started feeling his left leg pulling at him. "You've started Mikoto?" No response. "Why are you pulling on my leg?"
Then a clunk on the table next to her. "Your left foot came off really easily Touma. Fingers crossed the other side is as easy."
A muted grunt, a crack, and the same gentle pulling on the right leg, and another foot was on the table. He got up onto his elbows to see what Mikoto was doing.
It was fascinating to watch. With a wrench she quickly removed the ankles from both feet. Then she reached into a tub of lubricant and carefully lubricated the inside. After that Mikoto plugged in her PC and tested them using the leg manufacturer's software.
"It's creepy isn't it Touma?" She was looking at him to see if he agreed.
"Yeah, it's like one of those horror sci-fi movies where the dismembered robot is still coming to kill you. You've literally got them dragging themselves from one end of the table by the toes."
"The good news is that they check as all clear. I'll move to the calves, then the knees and the thighs in that order."
He watched her move silently over the next hour as she took off his calves, then the knees, and finally the thighs until all that remained was a web of electronics all built around a casting, which reminded him of the buttresses of a European cathedral, attached to what was the stump of his old leg. Each element removed had been cleaned, greased, tested, checked, passed as OK by Mikoto, and then neatly laid out on the table next to him. For once they hardly talked because he recognised that mode of working. It was how he was when he drew.
It was time for the final assembly to be detached. He watched as Mikoto reached into the Ryobi bag and out came gun like a power tool. She inserted a long bit into it, and he flinched as it made both a high pitched whirr but also a slight percussive sound. "What's that Mikoto?"
"It's an impact driver. I'm hoping the percussive effect will loosen the last screws holding that casting on. I'm trying to avoid using my socket set as it may hurt you in this case. Tell me if its uncomfortable."
He felt the vibration up his hip as she feathered delicate bursts and then carefully pulled the final assembly back to reveal the end of his limb that he had last seen six months ago. In her hand was the interface to his body. The side he now saw had a thick ring of silver conductive gauze that Mikoto later told him communicated with the nerves above.
A final test of the assembly with the PC and he could see the green light come up on her screen. Then with the impact driver and the PC she did the other with the same result. Then for the first time he saw Mikoto frown, and the depth of concern bothered him.
"What's wrong Mikoto. Didn't all the parts pass, so everything is fine with the legs?"
"They are. They're not the problem."
"Then what is?"
"It's something in there," and that was when he realised Mikoto was fixated with the stumps which were what remained of his natural legs. That told him it was his nerves, and her worst case. After thirty seconds she finally looked up. Three short sharp sentences, and there was an edge to her voice. "I need to think. I'm going to eat. You should too."
He picked up his lunch, unscrewed the top of the vacuum flask, and smelt the curry he had prepared early that morning. Some money had come in yesterday and the beef in the curry was calling to him. He unscrewed the lid of his other small vacuum flask and there was an equally hot serving of rice.
Touma tried not to watch her during the meal, but every time he looked up he saw her still looking at his legs, and not looking at the pieces of homemade sushi she was putting in her mouth. He was sensing that the last two days were possibly a mirage, and maybe he was destined to stay the way he was. The fifth time he looked up she was looking at a PC and the frown had dissipated. It was a moment of relief.
"Are you OK Mikoto? You seemed to be a bit spooked just then."
She looked at him and when she spoke; some of the previous brightness had returned. The sense of urgency was still there. "I think I have an idea. Wait here Touma." With that he watched her bolt out of the door with the speed he remembered from her youth.
Then the wait began. He watched the clock above the table grind out 15 minutes. He tried and failed to read the manga he'd stuff down the side of his bag for occasions such as this and eventually gave in. All he could do was watch the second hand of the old fashioned analogue clock spin round.
A burst through the door and Mikoto was back with a bottle of liquid, a sealed tub, a roll of paper towels, a plastic sheet, and some cotton buds.
"Touma, could you lie down please." She kneeled down opposite his stumps as he laid himself back onto the mat. He barely heard, "This may be a bit uncomfortable. I'm about to clean off the stump."
"What do you mean uncomfort…" and the freezing cold cleaning solution straight out of the fridge contacted the delicate stump. A sharp intake of breath, and the paper towel was quickly withdrawn.
"Sorry, are you OK Touma. I can still get a little bit too focused sometimes." This time she was embarrassed.
"I'm fine Mikoto. You're forgiven. It was a bit of a shock. You can go on." A smile to acknowledge and she got back to work. The solution being cold now didn't bother him and with lots of little strokes she was soon smiling at the stump. He braced for the initial shock on the next stump this time and the process repeated itself.
"What is Dr Misaka's conclusion? Can you see anything wrong on the surface?"
"They both healed well Touma. Scar tissue as expected but nice and smooth. That's what you would want to see after an operation of this type."
Then her phone vibrated on the table. She picked it up, an intense look, then a slight puzzlement.
"Who was that Mikoto?" She was staring at her phone. If her phone had morphed from Gekota into a more modern handset she would have had the same expression.
It took her a while to answer. "Shirai Haru. He called me Mito. It's funny, he used an intimate nickname like that in a text and we've only been out on a couple of dates. Maybe he's been out drinking with colleagues. It's pretty late in Amsterdam. He's over there currently."
Touma didn't note her body language. It was the more pressing issue that had grabbed his attention. "You're going out with somebody related to Kuroko?" If you'd asked him any time in the past about Mikoto having a boyfriend he'd have welcomed the news. Now a bit of him wasn't quite so sure and 'him' calling her 'Mito' made that feeling within him worse.
"It's Kuroko's older brother. He's working for the family business which is expanding into the Benelux region at the moment. He's over in Europe constantly."
"Then you are still in touch with Kuroko. I'm amazed she even let family near you."
"Touma. Kuroko's married to 19090, who's now known as Ena, and they're bringing up a little boy. He's really cute, and he looks a lot like his mother."
He could see Mikoto was trying not to laugh and given the expression that was probably on his face he could understand why. Those thirty seconds had upended his view of the world.
He was still stunned, and she still had a smirk, when Mikoto began examining the end of his legs. She cupped her hands over his right stump.
"Close your eyes Touma and pretend you are lifting your right leg. I'll provide some resistance with my hands. I want to test something, and what you don't tell anybody is I'll monitor your nerves with my ability."
He pushed up and it felt surprisingly real.
"Now think about straightening it, stretching it."
He felt a small sharp, slightly painful, prick but didn't think anything of it. He'd come to think it was a good sign. He felt them reasonably frequently, and at least it was feedback.
Then she repeated the same with the left leg. With that she sat back opposite him. Knees up and resting her hands in her chin. He watched the second hand make its way completely around the clock face and asked her a question.
"What did you find Mikoto? Is the diagnosis good or bad?" He had a horrible feeling it would be the later.
The hands came away from the chin and she wrapped her arms around her legs.
"Touma, you definitely have nerve damage. I think it's operable. I used my ability to sense what signals the nerves were giving out as you 'used' your legs. The nerves that were malfunctioning sent out some tell tales. Some, I think, will require Neurolysis. What that means is removing scar tissue from around the nerve to make it function better."
"This sounds like another operation?"
"Yes, and you can't sue a bankrupt leg manufacturer for the money. That means you'll have to find the money from somewhere."
"We haven't got that kind of money. These legs cost us a fortune." He had a sinking feeling. Despite what Mikoto had already done he'd still be stuck in a wheelchair. The six months of anticipation in some ways had been worse than 9 years of waiting.
"There also may be some more permanent nerve damage Touma. You may need a full range of techniques. You reacted favourably when I sent electrical signals to cancel out the pain signals. My hypothesis is you were ignoring them weren't you. Have you told anybody or, being macho, put up with it?" She paused to drive the guilt on his face home. "If we are lucky, and I do mean really lucky, a technique called wrapping will cure those."
"I thought once your spine broke and the nerves were damaged that was it?" He'd never imagined nerves could heal.
"Right but wrong Touma. Your core nerves like the spine yes, but the peripheral nerve system, such as the legs can. Depending on where in the body nerves can grow quite fast. Small nerves can grow up to 2mm per day."
"So, what can you do about it?"
"What do you think I can do about it?" She looked surprised.
"You haven't failed me so far." He knew he was putting pressure on her, but she seemed to have a knack in terms of coming good. In a previous life he'd come to rely on her technical ability, and he was getting the same feeling about her medically.
Mikoto smiled slightly when he said that and quickly became buried in another bout of pure concentration from which she quickly emerged.
"The frog faced doctor, Meido Gaeshi, told me he was surprised people hadn't helped you out in the past. He sounded like he regretted he hadn't been able to as well.… Shall we put him on the spot?"
"Get him to operate on me again? It would almost be like old times."
"It think its worth a try, but I'd like him to do it quickly."
He watched as Mikoto picked up her phone and called the doctor they both knew well, and he began to observe one side of the conversation. He watched as Mikoto ran through the nerve damage in his legs telling him near exactly what she'd told him. Then Mikoto asked him.
"Maedo, can you operate on him soon?"
It was obvious the response was not what she wanted to hear.
"You say it's not your speciality, and there is nothing but emergency slots in your theatres for the next two weeks, but if not you, then who? You said people should have helped him in the past, and that included you."
That didn't sound good to Touma and he crossed his fingers. Then he heard her gasp.
"You seriously couldn't be suggesting that."
Mikoto was listening to what the doctor said at the end of the line intently, and Touma was desperately wishing she'd put the phone on speaker.
"You are telling me she'd do a better job than you, and that's now her speciality." A pause and an agitated response. "No, I didn't realise that. We try and catch up about family and not talk shop when we meet every few months."
Then silence. She was breathing deeply and , listening intently. Mikoto continued, and he could feel the chill from the ice in her voice from a couple of metres away.
"I know she'd drop everything and do it tomorrow in Academy City, and she wouldn't charge him, but you are missing an important point here."
He could see that Mikoto was frustrated but slowly coming around.
"I'm still not 100% happy about it, even if she does have access to the best technology to do nerve operations in the world, and even if it is legal in Academy City."
Touma watched as Mikoto tried to breath slowly in an effort to calm herself down. He was bracing himself for sparks around her bangs.
"I'll tell you why."
Mikoto closed her eyes and let out a deep breath.
"Imouto' s a vet."