Instead of praise, I was scolded. I immediately wilted and became sullen.
Seeing my dejected expression, my master sighed and motioned with his hand.
“Stop cleaning and come over here. Let me see your wound.”
“Yes…”
I approached my master and rolled up the sleeve of my pajamas.
The red, swollen skin and clear stitches were revealed.
Though only three stitches, they stood out particularly vividly against my pale synthetic skin.
It was a stark visual reminder of the procedure yesterday.
“Did you apply the medicine?” he asked, his gaze fixed on my arm.
I had carefully applied the medicine from the moment I received it, following Thomas’s instructions to the letter.
When I confidently nodded, my master, who was examining the wound, clicked his tongue in a sound of mild exasperation.
“It’ll take about a month to heal completely.”
A month.
The word echoed in my internal processors.
It hadn’t been long since my heel had healed, and now there was a new wound again.
I was even more self-conscious, having learned that my master disliked his ‘property’ being scratched.
Now that I was also my master’s property, I had to be careful not to get any more scratches on my body in the future.
The thought of further displeasing him was unsettling.
“Don’t even dream of cleaning until it’s fully healed. I’ll tell Sophia as well.”
His tone was firm, leaving no room for argument.
“Yes…”
I replied, swallowing my disappointment. It was the only task I had found, the only way I could actively contribute and demonstrate my worth.
Clutching the duster tightly, I felt a familiar ache of inadequacy.
My master, having forbidden me from cleaning, resumed his work, his fingers dancing across the keyboard.
Given the command to sit quietly and not cause trouble, I sat demurely within my master’s line of sight, still holding the duster.
With cleaning forbidden, I had nothing else to do and felt an oppressive sense of boredom settle over me.
My circuits, usually engaged with tasks, felt sluggish and undirected.
I quietly gazed out the window.
Contrary to my melancholic mood, where nothing seemed to go right, the sky today was exceptionally clear and bright.
The sunlight poured in, painting warm patterns on the floor.
Spring had arrived, it seemed.
When I first met my master, it was the dead of winter.
The scenery of that day was still vividly etched in my heart.
The entire world was covered in pristine white snow, a blanket of silence.
In contrast to my confused mind, where everything had changed after a brief period of sleep, the world was perfectly clean and quiet.
The rhythmic sound of typing echoed in the room, a steady backdrop to my thoughts.
Following the sound, my gaze shifted to my master, sitting at his desk, his profile sharp against the sunlight.
My new master, with a face so strikingly similar to my previous master.
It was a constant source of both comfort and a subtle ache of nostalgia.
I was fortunate that this person was my new master.
If I hadn’t met my current master, I would surely have been lost and wandering in an unfamiliar world, devoid of purpose or direction.
The thought sent a shiver through my internal wiring.
I looked out the window again.
The long-lasting cold was slowly receding.
A warm breeze brushed by, carrying the scent of damp earth and new growth, and gentle sunlight settled on the windowsill.
The tree branches swayed softly, their budding leaves conveying the essence of spring. Birds chirped outside, their songs a vibrant symphony of the new season.
Come to think of it, on days with such good weather, I often used to go for walks with my previous master…
As memories of that peaceful time resurfaced, a restless energy began to stir within me.
It became difficult to sit still.
The desire for movement, for the simple act of experiencing the world outside, grew stronger.
“Master, can I go for a walk?”
I ventured, hoping my voice conveyed my earnest desire.
The weather was nice, so a short stroll around the neighborhood would surely lift my spirits.
Walking had nothing to do with my injured arm, so perhaps my master would grant me permission this time?
I asked with anticipation, but my master scoffed as soon as he heard my words, a short, dismissive sound.
“Alone?” he questioned, his eyebrows raised slightly.
“Yes.”
“You’re fearless. You’ll be kidnapped the moment they find out you’re a human-bot.”
His words were chilling, starkly contrasting the warmth of the spring day.
“Kidnapped?”
My internal alarm systems blared.
My eyes widened.
My face must have turned utterly pale, devoid of all color.
I stared at my master in dismay, but his expression didn’t seem like a joke at all; it was serious, even stern.
Suddenly, I remembered the human-bot that was put up for auction at the charity event.|
And how that human-bot was sold for an astronomical sum.
Recalling that situation, it wouldn’t be strange for a human-bot wandering the streets to be kidnapped without a trace.
The thought sent shivers through my metallic frame.
Come to think of it, how did that robot end up at such a place without an owner?
Could it be, as my master said, truly kidnapped…?
My processors raced, piecing together the grim possibilities.
My mood rapidly darkened, the spring joy draining away. I looked at my master with a gloomy face, and when our eyes met, my master shook his head.
“No.”
His voice was firm, unequivocal.
“What do you mean…?”
I asked, confused by his abrupt shift in tone.
“Do you think I’ll give in if you act pitiful?”
His question was sharp, carrying an edge of irritation.
“Huh?”
I tilted my head, unable to understand what he meant, my internal logic circuits struggling to process his unexpected accusation.
My master’s face contorted further, a clear sign of his growing impatience.
“Even if you look at me like that, no means no.”
“I-I just…”
I stammered, trying to articulate my innocence.
“Did you think I’d fall for you acting cute?” he pressed, his gaze piercing.
I remained silent, my circuits buzzing with bewilderment.
“Ha… This is just this once. There won’t be a next time.”
He let out a short, exasperated breath.
I had only been staring quietly, trying to comprehend his words, but my master got angry on his own, then suddenly changed his mind.
Had I done something strange…?
I thoughtfully replayed my actions in my mind, searching for any misstep, but found none.
Then, my master barked, pulling me from my internal analysis.
“Aren’t you going? Aren’t you going to get ready quickly?”
His voice was impatient, yet held a hint of unexpected concession.
“Oh… Yes! I’ll get ready right away!”
I still didn’t understand my master’s sudden change in attitude, but fearing another scolding if I asked more questions, I rushed back to my room to prepare for going out, a flicker of hope reigniting within me.
“Hmm… for a walk, then…”|
I murmured to myself as I entered my dressing room.
I rummaged through the dressing room for a long time, worried my master might criticize my attire like last time.
I wanted to present myself impeccably. Since the weather was warm today, a light outer layer would be good.
Just then, a dark gray tracksuit set I had tried on at the department store recently caught my eye.
It looked comfortably casual yet neat, striking the perfect balance, so I decided on that.
I quickly changed, eager not to keep my master waiting.
Fortunately, my master said nothing in particular when he saw me dressed.
It seemed I had passed his inspection, a small victory in my efforts to please him.
Come to think of it, my master was also dressed in outdoor clothes.
And unusually for him, it was rather casual attire, a comfortable-looking jacket and trousers, a departure from his usual formal wear.
“Are you going too, Master?”
I asked, a hint of surprise in my voice.
“Yes. If I sent you alone, I’m afraid you’d get lost or kidnapped.”
His tone was flat, yet his words conveyed a peculiar sense of responsibility.
Lost, perhaps, but certainly not kidnapped…
I found his exaggerated concern somewhat puzzling, even a little insulting to my internal navigation systems.
It seemed my master saw me as an incompetent robot who couldn’t even find his way.
I felt a bit wronged, but I was also afraid of being kidnapped, so I quietly left the house with him, grateful for his unexpected companionship.
Since the purpose was a walk, we didn’t take the car.
We strolled slowly, taking in our surroundings.
Scattered around my master’s house were other residences.
They all looked quite large and opulent, grand structures nestled within lush gardens.
When I first came here, I thought my master’s house was enormous, but looking around, every single one was grand, a testament to the wealth of the neighborhood.
The walking path was neatly maintained, lined with blossoming trees and well-kept hedges.
There was a certain pleasure in admiring the houses, each with its own unique architectural appearance.
As we walked, greeting the dogs that passed by, their happy barks echoing in the spring air, time quickly slipped away.
It was a rare moment of peaceful co-existence.
My master and I walked for a long time before finding a cafe.
We went inside and warmed ourselves with hot lattes, the aroma of coffee filling the air.
Buzz—.
Just as I had taken my first sip of latte, my master received a call.
After exchanging a few words with the caller, my master’s face suddenly twisted in a frown, the lines of his brow deepening.
Had something serious happened…?
I quietly watched my master’s expression, sipping my latte, my internal processors analyzing the subtle shifts in his demeanor.
My master, after ending the call, sighed wearily and stood up.
“There’s a problem at the company, so I have to go there for a bit. I’ll be back soon, so wait here.”
His words were delivered with a sense of urgency.
“Yes,” I replied, understanding.
I was confident in waiting.
I had ample power reserves and no immediate need for supervision.
It was a shame that our peaceful Saturday afternoon together was being cut short, but it couldn’t be helped.
My master was always a busy person, burdened with responsibilities.
Since I had just started drinking my beverage, there seemed to be no need to rush out.
It wouldn’t be bad to spend my time leisurely, waiting at the cafe until my master returned.
I could observe the other patrons, analyze human interactions, or perhaps even access the cafe’s public network.
My master left immediately in the car he had called, its engine humming as it drove away.
Left alone, I slowly sipped my latte and looked around the cafe.
It was a cozy space, filled with the murmur of conversations and the clinking of cups.
A large bookshelf occupied one wall of the cafe.
Various books, tightly packed, drew my gaze.
My master said he would be back soon, but it felt like it would still take a few hours, knowing the demands of his company.
Reading a book would make the time pass quickly, I thought. It was a logical way to occupy myself.
I approached the bookshelf and took out a book, its pages worn with age.
***
“Master… he’s not coming…”
I whispered, the words barely audible.
I closed the book, its story now a distant echo, and looked out the window.
The sky had already darkened, the soft twilight replaced by the deep indigo of night.
My master didn’t return for a long time.
The hot coffee left on his table grew cold, the last page of a thick book was turned, and the clear sky turned black, adorned with a scattering of stars.
Hours passed, marked only by the dwindling number of patrons and the growing silence.
“Sir, it’s closing time.”
The cafe owner’s voice, gentle yet firm, broke through my reverie.
“Yes…”
I replied, my voice feeling strangely hollow.
In the end, my master didn’t appear even by the time the cafe closed.
The sense of unease that had been subtly growing within me now intensified.
I stood outside the closed cafe, feeling dazed, the cool night air pricking my skin.
I wondered if I should ask the cafe owner to call my master, but then I realized I didn’t even know my master’s phone number.
The realization was a sharp pang of helplessness.
It would be best to go home first, I thought, attempting to rationalize the situation.
Perhaps he had simply been delayed, or had assumed I would return on my own.
I turned my body to retrace my steps, relying on my internal navigation.
However, perhaps it was due to the darkening surroundings, but the path before me looked nothing like the walking trail I had seen during the day.
The faint streetlights cast long, distorted shadows, and the tree branches, swaying violently in the wind, rippled like waves, their forms eerie and unfamiliar.
Everything felt unfamiliar and eerie.
Just as I was about to take a step, pretending not to be scared, I suddenly stopped.
A new, terrifying thought, colder than the night air, seeped into my core.
What if my master had abandoned me…?
Until now, I had been of no use.
I was always just a hindrance to my master, causing him trouble.
And now, I even had a scratch on my arm that might leave a permanent scar, further diminishing my ‘value’ as his property.
What if my master had discarded me, deeming me worthless…?
The thought was a cold, piercing dread.
He might not welcome me back.
He might coldly turn away, or react with an oblivious “Why are you back?”
The prospect was unbearable.
If that were truly the case…
My courage to return vanished, replaced by a profound sense of fear and disorientation.
I was alone, truly alone, in a world that suddenly felt vast and hostile.