[Ratchet makes a low sound and moves Shiro's arm up to slide his hand along the back of his bicep, his palm registering the transition from metal to flesh and mapping the shift of muscle down into Shiro's shoulder as his free hand braces collarbone. His touch moves back out, lingering along the--well, they aren't weld-marks, but close enough, and he frowns.]

I... there's a lot more to find out about this thing. But at preliminary examination, I don't think it's going to be easy to remove, let alone replace. [He steps away and hands Shiro's shirt back to him, though his eyes linger on his shoulder, his brow creased in thought.]

Why are you so anxious to get rid of it, if it isn't causing you pain?