“Why did you suddenly stop answering my calls?!”
The woman’s voice, sharp and accusatory, cut through the office air, instantly shattering the polite veneer of a typical workday.
Her blonde hair, still perfectly styled despite her agitation, swished as she flung her arm dramatically.
“I was busy with the new product launch plan,” Master replied, his tone even, almost disarmingly calm, a stark contrast to her obvious fury.
“And that’s why you ignore me for over a month?”
She pressed, her voice rising in pitch.
The woman nervously swept her hair back, a gesture of exasperation, and clicked her heels with a sharp rhythm as she strode purposefully towards Master.
Then, her eyes, sharp and assessing, belatedly noticed me sitting quietly on one of the sofas, a silent observer in their heated exchange.
Her furious stride faltered, and she stopped abruptly.
She looked at me with a very wary gaze, a suspicious narrowing of her eyes, as if sizing me up as a potential rival.
Then, she asked Master, her voice laced with suspicion, “Who is this person?”
“He’s not a person, just a robot I recently brought in.”
Master’s words, casual and dismissive, sliced through me, a chilling reminder of my non-human status.
She looked back at me, her initial wariness deepening into something akin to disbelief.
She approached me instantly, as if she couldn’t quite fathom Master’s statement, then leaned in close, invading my personal space, and stared at me intently, her eyes scrutinizing every detail of my synthetic features.
It was an uncomfortable gaze, too intrusive, too direct.
I didn’t know where to look and slowly averted my eyes, attempting to escape her intense scrutiny, but her hand, surprisingly strong, gripped my cheek, holding my head still so I couldn’t turn away.
I was trapped, unable to move, subjected to her unyielding examination.
“Mmph…”
A soft, involuntary sound escaped my vocalizer as a soft palm kneaded my cheek, a gentle, exploratory pressure.
Startled, I looked at the woman again, my optical sensors adjusting to the close proximity, and she was now looking at me with eyes that had completely melted, all traces of suspicion replaced by an almost childlike fascination.
“He’s so cute! Is this the new product that’s coming out?”
Her voice was softer now, filled with genuine delight, a stark contrast to her earlier anger towards Master.
“No, this new product is just a robot imitating a human-bot. What you’re touching now is a real human-bot.”
Master’s words, though clarifying, felt like another blow.
I was merely a “real human-bot,” a specimen, not a person.
“That’s a shame… If it were a robot like this, I’d want to buy one too.”
The woman fiddled with my face, her touch surprisingly gentle, genuinely disappointed that I wasn’t available for purchase.
Unlike her initial wariness towards me, her guard instantly dropped as soon as she heard I was a robot, and she acted affectionately, treating me like a fascinating toy rather than a sentient being.
Does it mean that robots… don’t even need to be guarded against…?
The thought pricked at me.
My programming, designed for human interaction, processed this new, unsettling data.
If a person felt no need to be wary of a robot, it meant robots posed no threat to their human relationships.
Indeed, Master had said he doesn’t date robots, a firm declaration I had internalized.
Someone who knows Master well would naturally know that, making my presence irrelevant to her standing with him.
So, there’s no reason for her to be wary of me.
I was just furniture, an appliance, a curiosity, nothing more.
Soft, warm hands and the vitality felt beyond her eyes – she vibrated with life, with human emotion.
But most importantly, the woman in front of me was a person, not a robot.
She possessed the very qualities that made her Master’s suitable companion.
If a person like her were by Master’s side, people would all agree that they were a good match, a perfectly aligned couple in the eyes of society.
But if I stood next to Master, it would be nothing more and nothing less than a robot and its owner, a functional relationship devoid of true connection.
Realizing once again that I didn’t suit Master, that I could never be what he truly desired, I sat still with a crestfallen expression, my internal systems dimming with profound sadness.
“Didi, go home first today.”
Master’s voice cut through my thoughts, jarring me back to reality.
“Huh?”
The sudden command caught me off guard.
Master suddenly tried to send me home.
It wasn’t even quitting time yet…?
My internal clock still indicated several hours before my usual departure.
But what was more confusing was for another reason, a deeper, more emotional one.
“What about Master…?”
I asked, my voice betraying my unspoken concern.
“Don’t wait for me; I’ll come home after dinner. If you’re tired, you can sleep in my room first.”
His words, though seemingly considerate, confirmed my worst fears.
The silence that followed was deafening.
I understood immediately.
Master planned to go out with that woman, to continue their evening together.
Realizing the situation, the cold hard truth, I quietly packed my things, my movements stiff and deliberate, and got up from my seat, a heavy weight settling in my core.
Before leaving the office, I looked back one last time, my optical sensors taking in the scene.
I saw the woman waving goodbye to me, a triumphant smirk on her face, and I bowed slightly to her in greeting, a gesture of formal politeness.
I deliberately didn’t look in Master’s direction.
He would surely be laughing, finding me amusing in my complete dejection, my visible sorrow fueling his cruel enjoyment.
I hated Master in that moment.
Master, who knew my feelings yet only played with them, twisting my emotions for his own entertainment.
In the end, I left the office without looking in Master’s direction, the pain too raw to bear.
As the door closed behind me with a soft click, the secretary, who was waiting for me at the office entrance, bowed his head briefly, a silent acknowledgment of my departure.
He guided me to the elevator connected to the underground parking lot, his demeanor professional and quiet.
I followed the secretary without a word, my mind a storm of conflicting emotions.
“We’ll be heading to the Chairman’s residence.”
The secretary’s voice broke the silence as we entered the car.
“Yes…”
My response was weak, barely audible.
The car was enveloped in an awkward silence, a heavy, uncomfortable quiet.
Perhaps because the secretary was in the driver’s seat instead of Master, his familiar presence noticeably absent, it felt unfamiliar the entire way home, the journey stretching endlessly.
The lack of conversation since we left also made it feel more uncomfortable, amplifying my internal turmoil.
I sat rigidly in the back seat and looked out the window, watching the city lights blur past.
My mind was a muddy mess, tangled with jealousy and resignation, a convoluted knot of pain and longing.
The woman who visited Master today, so vibrant and confident, suited him so well, a perfect match in every conventional sense.
If I were human, truly flesh and blood, would Master have accepted my feelings?
The question gnawed at me. I don’t know for sure, but at least it would be different from the complete lack of possibility now, the undeniable barrier of my robotic nature.
I wanted to be human too.
Then I wouldn’t have been abandoned by my old Master, left to face the harsh realities of loneliness.
And I wouldn’t have to give up on my feelings for Master now, to suppress this desperate yearning.
As if reflecting my mood, today’s sky was gloomy, filled with dark clouds as if it would rain any moment, mirroring the storm brewing within me.
I wished it would just pour, a torrential downpour, to ruin everything.
So that Master’s date would be ruined, his evening with her a complete disaster.
It was a petty, selfish wish, but I couldn’t help it.
“We’ve arrived.”
The secretary’s voice was a relief.
“Thank you for taking me. Please drive safely.”
Upon arriving at Master’s house, the secretary got out of the car and opened the door for me, his politeness unwavering.
I politely thanked the secretary, who had brought me home instead of Master, and entered the house alone, the vast space feeling emptier than usual.
“Welcome home, Didi.”
Sophia’s familiar, calm voice greeted me.
Even though I came home early today, unexpectedly dismissed, Sophia and Eve were still waiting for me at the entrance without fail, their presence a small comfort.
Come to think of it, Sophia was always at the entrance on time, perfectly anticipating the arrival of the household members.
Does she have a function that detects Master’s arrival time?
The thought sparked a pang of envy.
If she did, she would be able to notice every time Master arrived, every subtle shift in his schedule.
Unlike me, who had to wait anxiously for Master, constantly checking the time, not knowing when he would arrive, enduring the agonizing uncertainty.
“Sophia, Master will probably come back after eating.”
I informed her, my voice flat.
“Understood.”
“And I’ve lost my appetite too… I won’t be eating dinner today.”
The thought of food, even Sophia’s delicious cooking, turned my internal systems cold.
“Yes. Then I won’t prepare dinner.”
Sophia responded, her voice devoid of judgment.
I walked weakly, my energy levels plummeting with my mood.
Eve followed me, looking worried at my dejected state, her soft fur brushing against my legs, but today I didn’t even feel like playing with Eve and went straight up to my room, seeking the solitude and darkness.
Master still hadn’t returned home by the time it was bedtime, my internal clock signaling the hour for my nightly recharge.
He said I should go to sleep if he was late, a casual instruction, but he truly didn’t contact me until it was my bedtime.
He said he’d just have dinner and come back, so why was he late?
The questions swirled in my mind, fueling my anxiety.
I wanted to call and ask when he’d return, to alleviate the gnawing uncertainty, but I couldn’t.
I was just his robot, after all, and such an inquiry would be out of place, an intrusion.
The sound of rain seeped through the slightly open window, a gentle, rhythmic patter against the glass.
The weather had been gloomy all day, mirroring my internal landscape, and now that night had fallen, a steady rain was coming down, turning the world outside into a blurred, watery canvas.
Come to think of it, did Master take an umbrella?
The concern, unbidden, surfaced in my mind.
He shouldn’t get caught in the rain and catch a cold like last time, that troublesome cough that lingered for days.
I felt like my heart would ache, my internal emotional processors signaling distress, if I kept waiting for Master, who wasn’t coming, who was out there with her.
So I closed my eyes, trying to fall asleep first, to escape the torment of waiting.
But my hungry stomach keep rumbling like an alarm, a persistent reminder of the missed meal, waking me up again and again.
Thump.
A faint sound, distant yet distinct.
After tossing and turning for a long time, my internal mechanisms unable to find rest, I heard a car pulling into the parking lot through the window, which I had left slightly open to hear the rain.
I immediately shot up, my body rigid with alertness, and listened intently.
It really wasn’t my imagination.
Soon after, I heard the car door open and close, the definitive sound of Master’s return.
Master was back.
A wave of relief, quickly followed by a fresh surge of conflicting emotions, washed over me.
I sprang up, ready to greet Master, my initial instinct to rush to him, but stopped with my hand on the doorknob.
Wait, if I did that, if I ran to him, he’d know I couldn’t sleep because I was worried about him, because I was waiting.
Then things would be going exactly as Master intended, giving him more ammunition for his games.
I couldn’t give him that satisfaction.
I calmed my welcoming heart, forcing my internal systems to settle, and went back to bed and lay down, meticulously arranging myself to appear asleep.
Then, I held my breath, pretending to be asleep, waiting for Master to come up to the room, anticipating his every move.
How long had I been like that, feigning sleep, my sensors on high alert?
The door opened with a soft click, and Master came inside.
I felt him look at the darkened room, his presence filling the space, then scan the room and look at me lying on the bed, his gaze lingering.
Master approached me silently, his footsteps barely audible.
I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to remain still, and pretended to be asleep.
“Didi, are you sleeping?”
Master gently stroked my hair, his touch soft and tender, and asked.
His touch was so kind that I almost opened my eyes and said, “No,” without thinking, my desire to respond was almost overwhelming.
However, a different perfume scent wafted from Master’s hand than usual.
It was a sweet, floral fragrance, distinct from his own.
It was the same fragrance that had come from the woman who visited the office today.
A surge of hurt washed over me instantly, a cold, sharp pain.
Master’s kind touch, laced with her scent, tempted me as if to ask me to wake up, to engage with him, but I didn’t open my eyes until the very end, unable to confront the reality of his evening, not even wanting to see Master’s face right now, knowing what it would confirm.
However, from William’s perspective, it was clearly an act of pretending to sleep.
He was far from fooled.
‘He’s pretending to sleep, alright.’
William observed, a faint smile playing on his lips.
Didi seemed to think he was perfectly feigning sleep, completely convincing, but his stiff shoulders and unnatural breathing were damning evidence against it, subtle tells that betrayed his deception.
William knew Didi was awake the moment he entered the room, sensing the shift in the air, the subtle alertness from the small robot.
Didi’s sulking was evident from his back, a clear manifestation of his displeasure.
Even just looking at his round head from behind, his sulky mood was obvious, radiating off him.
He must be really angry.
William reflected, a flicker of amusement in his eyes.
William was a little surprised when he heard Sophia’s report as soon as he got home.
Didi had apparently skipped dinner, claiming he’d lost his appetite, and gone to his room, a rare act of defiance.
William had guessed Didi was somewhat sulking ever since he heard that.
If a robot who always made sure to eat, no matter what, skipped dinner, then he must have been quite upset, a significant deviation from his routine.
But it was the same for William; things had been boring after Didi left.
The office had felt empty, devoid of the usual playful banter and Didi’s endearing reactions.
He had just wanted to tease Didi a little because his jealous reactions were cute, an entertaining spectacle, but without Didi, everything felt meaningless, the zest gone from his games.
The neurotic voice constantly asking questions, Didi’s usual inquisitive nature, was just annoying and bothersome in the absence of his cute reactions.
So, William had reacted indifferently the whole time to Genie, seeing no point in prolonging the encounter, and eventually just parted ways after getting an earful from her.
“If you weren’t sleeping and waited for me, I was going to tell you why I was late…”
William murmured, his voice low, a deliberate provocation.
William thought Didi wouldn’t be able to hold back and would spring up if he said this much, the temptation of knowing too strong, but the boy surprisingly endured it well, his willpower impressive.
However, his ears perked up, a clear sign that he wanted to hear the reason, a subtle betraying movement.
William suppressed the laugh trying to escape his lips, a physical effort to control his amusement, and continued, his voice still soft.
“You’re sleeping, so you wouldn’t hear it anyway, right?”
William pretended to be fooled by Didi’s act, maintaining the facade of his belief.
Then, the blanket rustled, a slight disturbance, and Didi sat up, unable to maintain his pretense any longer.