Kyouiku was not a woman in the traditional sense. She was a , meticulously crafted from copper and silk, her eyes twin amber lamps that glowed with a gentle, perpetual curiosity. She had been programmed—by the Rurikawa family, famed artisans of automata—to learn, to adapt, to care. Yet beneath her polished exterior pulsed a longing that no line of code could erase.
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