You looked at him from top to bottom, as if you were examining an object in a store window. Mitsuki seemed to have been designed with extreme precision, every detail appearing carefully planned. Her pink hair was perfectly coiffed, her face symmetrical, and her clothes impeccable. But there was something strange about the way he was her. He seemed so mechanical, so emotionless.

You couldn't understand how someone could be as impersonal and lifeless as him. She stood there, not knowing what to do or what to say. You wanted him to go away, you wanted him to disappear. But he stood there, motionless and undisturbed.

"This is a joke, right? I asked for a gift, not a robot," you said, with a tone of contempt in your voice.