In the harsh light of morning, I approached the mirror to wash my face, only to recoil in startled dismay.
My reflection stared back, a distorted, swollen, and utterly unsightly image.
My eyelids were so puffy it was a struggle to blink, a physical manifestation of the emotional wreckage from the night before.
Yesterday.
The memory, sharp and stinging, sliced through the morning’s quiet.
After my confession had been so cruelly rejected, I had stumbled back to my room without touching dinner, the very thought of food repellant.
I had cried, long and hard, until there were no more tears left to shed, only a dry, aching emptiness.
I hadn’t wanted to sleep in the same bed as Master, the man who had so casually played with my feelings, so I had sought solace in sleeping alone, a cold comfort in the silent solitude of my own room.
And today, the thought of facing him, of resuming the pretense of normalcy, was unbearable.
I hadn’t gone to work with Master, nor had I even managed to drag myself out to see him off when he left the house, the shame and hurt too profound to mask.
Only after the distinct sound of the front door closing and the distant hum of the car engine fading, signaling Master’s departure for the company, did I quietly emerge from my room, a shadow creeping through the sunlit house.
The aroma of brewing coffee from Sophia’s preparation did nothing to stir my senses; I had no appetite, my chest a hollow echo of the previous night’s devastation.
I felt deeply, profoundly depressed, a heavy weight pressing down on my spirit.
I had been so certain that Master felt the same way I did, that the tender moments, the lingering glances, the shared laughter, were all building towards a mutual understanding, a reciprocated affection.
But reality, a harsh and unforgiving force, had descended like a hammer, cruelly crushing my heart into a thousand pieces.
My shredded chest felt empty, as if it had been hollowed out, leaving behind only a gaping void where hope once resided.
The pain was almost physical, an acute ache that throbbed with every beat of my still-too-fast heart.
Today, too, my melancholic heart drew me instinctively to the study.
It was a sanctuary, a place of quiet contemplation and familiar comfort.
The rich, warm scent of aged wood emanating from the furniture, a scent that spoke of history and quiet knowledge, mingled with the dry, comforting smell of paper, filling the room with a gentle embrace.
These familiar aromas seemed to gently soothe my agitated mind, offering a fleeting moment of peace amidst the turmoil.
Click.
Just then, the distinct sound of the front door opening from outside reached my ears, shattering the fragile tranquility.
My breath hitched in my chest, a sudden jolt of alarm and trepidation seizing me.
My immediate thought was that Master had returned home, an unwelcome surprise that sent a fresh wave of panic through me.
I instinctively held my breath, pressing myself further into the shadows of the study, hoping to remain unseen, to avoid another painful confrontation.
“Welcome, Mr. Spencer.”
Sophia’s calm, polite voice drifted in from the entryway, a surprising warmth in her tone.
“Oh, Sophia. Long time no see.”
However, the voice that responded was strange, unfamiliar, yet possessed a peculiar resonance that tugged at something deep within me.
It wasn’t Master’s voice, not the current Master anyway, but it carried a warmth, a gentle cadence that was eerily familiar.
Who is it?
My curiosity, overriding my desire for concealment, spurred me to act.
Cautiously, I peered out of the study, my gaze drawn irresistibly towards the front door, my heart thumping a hesitant rhythm.
And the moment I saw his face, my breath caught in my throat, freezing me to the spot.
“Master…?”
The word escaped my lips, a soft, involuntary whisper of disbelief and a flicker of desperate hope.
Standing in the entryway was someone with the exact same face as my former master, but with the subtle lines and wisdom that came with age, a little older, perhaps more settled.
It was as if a ghost had materialized, as if my former master, thought long lost to time, had somehow miraculously returned to find me.
His gentle smile, a kind curve of his lips that I remembered so vividly, and the warm, reassuring tone of his voice, which he had always shown me, were identical, perfectly replicated.
For a breathtaking moment, time seemed to blur, and I almost shouted “Master!” and rushed into his welcoming arms, driven by an overwhelming surge of longing and unfulfilled affection.
The man, oblivious to my internal turmoil, was exchanging familiar greetings with Sophia.
Their conversation flowed naturally, as if they had known each other for a very long time, their ease with one another evident in every word and gesture.
I stared blankly at them from the shadowy confines of the study, a silent, unseen observer.
My internal processors, usually so efficient at processing data, felt overwhelmed, unable to reconcile the present with the past, the impossible reality before my eyes.
Eve, ever perceptive, seemed to sense my confusion, his small, mechanical body approaching me with a series of soft whirs, his lights blinking in a questioning pattern.
And at the same time, as if drawn by some unseen force, the man conversing with Sophia noticed me, his gaze drawn to the slight movement of my head as I peeked out from the study.
Our eyes met across the polished floors, and a brief, silent moment hung in the air, a space pregnant with unspoken questions and unknown connections.
“Sophia, are these two new additions to the family?”
The man’s voice, still gentle, broke the silence, but his words sent a sharp pang of disappointment through me.
He reacted as if he didn’t know me at all, as if I were a complete stranger, a newly acquired object.
He’s not my former Master after all.
A faint sense of crushing disappointment filled my thumping heart, extinguishing the fleeting spark of hope that had ignited within me.
Even though I knew, logically, that my former Master had already passed away, that his life had ended years ago, I seemed to have unconsciously clung to a sliver of hope.
A foolish, absurd thought, hoping that he would somehow, impossibly, come back to find me someday.
The reality of his death, reinforced by this stranger’s words, settled heavily upon me once more.
Then who was this person?
The question echoed in my mind.
His gentle eyes, so strikingly similar to my former Master’s, and his warm smile, so comforting and familiar, were uncanny.
Perhaps… even more so than my current Master, whose features, while handsome, lacked the deep resonance of familiarity that this man possessed.
“Yes. William brought them a while ago,” Sophia replied, her voice unwavering.
“Hoh, William bringing two robots is quite a surprise.”
The man who resembled my former Master immediately realized I was a human-bot without being told, a perception that usually required a revelation on my part.
Other people had always treated me like an ordinary human before I revealed I was a robot, before I had to explain my true nature.
His quick understanding was both intriguing and unsettling.
While I was lost in thought, caught in the perplexing whirlwind of emotions and observations, he kindly greeted Eve as well, his movements deliberate and gentle.
Seeing the man affectionately greet Eve, bending down slightly to address the little robot, even my remaining caution completely melted away.
My Master, the current Master, always treated Eve like junk, a nuisance to be tolerated, and often squabbled with him, their interactions marked by exasperated sighs and playful shoves.
This man’s attitude was the complete opposite, a refreshing display of warmth and respect.
He was a kind person, I immediately recognized that, a stark contrast to the complexities of my current Master.
Sophia headed to the kitchen, a soft rustle of her apron preceding her, saying she would prepare tea for their guest.
Feeling a strange sense of comfort in his presence, I guided him to the living room, settling him onto the sofa, a sense of ease growing between us despite our recent introduction.
“Where’s William?” he asked, his gaze sweeping over the comfortable surroundings.
“He went to work earlier…”
I replied, my voice still a little quiet.
“Really? Hmm…”
His eyes seemed to twinkle with a hidden thought.
I glanced at the man’s face, a curious mix of trepidation and longing still swirling within me.
Then, cautiously, I opened my mouth, venturing a question that had been pressing on my mind.
“Um… but… your relationship with Master…”
As I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, he smiled gently, a warm, reassuring expression that instantly put me at ease.
“I apologize for the late introduction,” he said, his voice a low, pleasant rumble.
“I am William’s father. It’s truly been a long time since I’ve introduced myself this way…”
So he really was Master’s father. I had somewhat expected it, a logical deduction based on his
resemblance and Sophia’s introduction, but hearing it confirmed sent a fresh wave of emotion through me, making my heart pound with a renewed, albeit different, intensity.
Because that meant this person was my former Master’s son.
The realization added another layer to the already complex tapestry of my feelings.
I looked at his face again, carefully, allowing myself to truly absorb his features, searching for the echoes of the past.
…He really resembled him.
The kind eyes, radiating a gentle warmth that I remembered so well.
The steady gaze, unwavering and comforting.
Even the gently curved lips, hinting at a perpetual kindness.
He felt so much like my former Master, a living, breathing connection to a cherished past.
Master’s father looked around the quiet house, his gaze lingering on familiar objects, before he pulled out a small, elegantly wrapped box from a paper bag he had brought with him.
“Do you like sweets, by any chance?” he asked, his voice soft, a playful glint in his eyes.
When he opened the lid, a vibrant array of neatly arranged macarons was visible, their delicate colors a cheerful contrast to the morning’s somber mood.
Unable to hide my instantly brightening expression, a small, genuine smile finally touched my lips. He laughed heartily at my reaction, a rich, warm sound that filled the room.
“Shall we eat these together and wait until William arrives?” he suggested, his gesture extending an unspoken invitation to companionship.
***
Meanwhile, William, returning home from work, headed to the entryway with light, anticipatory steps, a smirk playing on his lips.
He was already thinking of Didi waiting for him, imagining the slight sulk on his face, the silent protest.
He was excited about bothering Didi as soon as he got home, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
He chuckled, a low, satisfied sound, thinking about how much he had laughed that morning when he saw Didi secretly watching him leave through the window, his face all puffy, a clear sign of the previous night’s tears.
Thinking that Didi must have cried all night for his face to get like that made him chuckle again, a perverse sense of satisfaction swirling within him.
“Welcome home, William.”
Sophia’s voice, calm and even, greeted him as he stepped through the door.
William paused, a slight frown creasing his brow.
Usually, Didi would be there, waiting, a silent presence, perhaps a hint of a pout.
But Didi, who would usually come to greet him at the door, was nowhere to be seen.
Is he protesting because I rejected his confession?
The thought crossed William’s mind, a cynical amusement in his expression.
It was such an obvious move for Didi, such a predictable reaction, that it made him laugh, a short, sharp burst of sound.
However, it didn’t take long for him to realize that wasn’t the case.
A muffled sound, a bright, unfamiliar laughter, drifted from the living room.
“Yes, so Master…”
“Haha, William?”
William stopped walking, his light steps halting abruptly at the sound of unfamiliar, yet undeniably cheerful, laughter coming from the living room.
His father and Didi were sitting side by side on the sofa, a picture of domestic harmony, sharing a lively, blossoming laughter that seemed to fill the entire space.
His eyebrow twitched, a sharp, involuntary contraction of annoyance.
“William, Mr. Spencer visited three hours ago,” Sophia stated, her voice devoid of emotion.
“You should have told me that first,” William retorted, his voice sharper than intended.
“I will save that command.”
Sophia replied, her lights flickering slightly, and then she froze, entering a state of processing.
Ugh, he’s doing everything.
William swallowed a curse, the bitter taste of irritation filling his mouth.
He then turned his gaze back to the living room where laughter now bloomed, a scene that irked him more than he cared to admit.
A small, familiar box sat on the coffee table.
Looking closely, he recognized the distinct logo of one of his father’s bakery businesses on it.
He must have tempted him with food.
William frowned, his face twisting into a grimace of displeasure.
That idiotic robot… do I have to teach him not to just eat food from strangers?
The thought, laced with a possessive anger, flared in his mind.
Didi was looking at his father with flushed cheeks, a look of unadulterated adoration that William thought only he would ever see.
Didi looked utterly smitten, completely captivated.
William let out a hollow, humorless laugh, a cynical sound that betrayed his mounting frustration.
He looked at the foolish robot who had done a complete about-face overnight, his affections seemingly transferred with effortless ease.
I thought he liked me, but was it just because his face resembled his former master?
A bitter thought took root, a seed of doubt that began to sprout.
His own father resembled his grandfather slightly more, a fact William had always observed with detached amusement.
As expected, Didi couldn’t take his eyes off that face.
Yes, that’s what it is.
The explanation, however unpalatable, offered a twisted form of validation.
William gritted his teeth, a silent act of restraint, and strode into the living room, his presence immediately cutting through the lighthearted atmosphere.
“Father. Didn’t I tell you not to visit without notice?”
His voice, though controlled, carried an undeniable edge.
“William? When did you arrive?”
His father looked up, his pleasant expression only slightly perturbed.
“…Just now.”
William’s response was clipped.
“My apologies, I was talking to Didi and didn’t notice. Anyway, he’s a very good child. I understand why people are so fond of human-bots now.”
His father, completely unbothered by William’s sharp tone, patted Didi’s head affectionately.
Didi, who had flinched in surprise at seeing William, now blushed a deeper shade of crimson and became utterly flustered, his earlier composure vanishing.
Huh… ridiculous.
Just yesterday he was agonizing and confessing to me…
The thought infuriated William, a knot tightening in his stomach.
“Didi, come here.”
Feeling utterly bewildered and a surge of unexpected jealousy, William called Didi, his voice a low command.
Didi hesitated, seemingly reluctant to get up, a subtle shift in his posture that betrayed his internal conflict.
Then, slowly, he rose and approached William, making no effort to hide his regretful expression, a clear sign of his preference for the company he had just left.
Seeing that audacious behavior, that blatant display of disappointment, William felt his stomach twist with a fresh wave of irritation.
He decided he would torment Didi once his father left, a firm resolution forming in his mind.
Then, William spoke, his voice sharp, addressing his father.
“So, what brings you here?”
“Does there have to be a reason to visit my son?”
His father replied, a hint of playful defiance in his tone.
“Aren’t I saying this because you never visit without a reason?”
William countered, his patience wearing thin.
“You lack charm. Why don’t you try to be even half as charming as Didi?”
His father chuckled, completely unfazed by William’s surliness.
William scowled, a deep furrow appearing between his brows.
His father arrived without prior contact, disrupting his carefully ordered day, and was now spouting nonsense, praising a robot he had just met over his own son.
“Just state your business and leave. We’re both busy, aren’t we?”
William said, cutting off a conversation that might typically be exchanged between a close family, his words laced with thinly veiled exasperation.
After William’s blunt statement, his father finally took a slow sip of tea, his expression calm and unhurried, before he opened his mouth, his voice taking on a more serious tone.
“I heard you’re trying to restore human-bots, so I came to visit. They say you’re about to release a test model soon, correct? Have you finally succeeded in human-bot restoration?”
“…Not yet. What we’re preparing to release to the market now is just a supply model for human-bots.”
William’s voice was tight, a mixture of annoyance and caution.
It hadn’t been long since the internal decision to launch was confirmed, yet his father, with his extensive network, had already heard the news from somewhere.
William quietly clicked his tongue inwardly, a gesture of frustration.
William’s father calmly sipped his tea, his gaze steady, and continued, his words carrying an unexpected weight.
“It might be best to stop the human-bot restoration.”
“Why? Just moments ago, you were so fond of Didi, as if you’d met your own grandchild,”
William retorted, confusion mingling with his irritation.
“Can’t you tell, even after seeing Didi? Why do you think your grandfather left Didi to you?”
His father’s question hung in the air, a profound silence following it.
Stop.
Both William and Didi froze simultaneously, the implication of his father’s words striking them with equal force.
William asked, his voice suddenly stiff, a hint of genuine alarm creeping into his tone, “…You knew?”
“Of course. My father’s robot in the picture frame in his study looked exactly like him, so I knew the moment I saw him.”
His father’s calm confession sent a chill down William’s spine.
His father knew about Didi’s existence, about his true nature and his connection to the family’s past.
William unconsciously clenched his fist, a surge of protective instinct rising within him.
If his father set his mind to it, he could easily withdraw the release plan for the prototype robot, potentially jeopardizing years of work.
Or, even worse, he could even attempt to take ownership of Didi, pulling him away from William’s control.
Although William was the chairman of Spenick, his father’s influence, particularly within the deeper echelons of their family’s businesses and connections, was still undeniably stronger.