Thanks to Leopold's social programming he was aware of the unmeant implications that attended Ayira's poor choice of phrasing. He knew also how those unconscious connotations would pique Natsuki's interest, and as a function of the necessary empathic qualities implicit in his interactive routines he could even sympathize with Ayira for digging herself a deeper hole. He reflected privately on the irony of these facts as he contemplated how best to endear Natsuki and himself to the unlucky student. Sympathy had no bearing on his hardwired prerogatives.

"You have my permission miss, if in return I may have your permission to call you by your first name." Leopold said aloud. He hardly considered that his condition would dissuade the girl. "But if you please, not for too long. It would be uncomfortable." By evincing an apparently shared discomfort with being touched he hoped he could build some rapport with Ayira, and since his knowledge of her was secret there was no danger that she might recognize the attempt as excessively sophisticated.

Natsuki, for her part, fulfilled her evident personality by providing commentary while Ayira felt the surfaces of Leopold's head. She pointed out that Leopold's eyes were actually moist, taking pleasure in noting that in that regard at least she had contributed to Leopold's structural design, and assured her that while his eyeballs could technically feel there would be no sensation of pain or discomfort as humans perceived it.

"The lack of eye moisture is a chief component of the 'uncanny valley' phenomenon." Charlotte explained avidly. "Human beings are, for the most part, extremely sensitive to details in the configuration of another person's face, so the smallest deviance is enough to trigger feelings of disquiet." Charlotte scratched her bottom lip thoughtfully as she regarded Ayira for a moment, adding, "I'm a little surprised that you weren't more startled when you first saw Leopold, since he's so realistic, and appears decapitated." She then dismissed the concern with a shrug.

"Anyhow, by mimicking tear ducts I not only provide a way to keep Leopold's eyes moist but I give a reason for him to blink occasionally. He can even cry, though naturally he's too much the perfect gentleman to weep. Still, a tear or two in the corners of Leopold's eyes is sufficient for the purpose given his personality, assuming he were to receive news of a tragedy, or something similar."

Ayira nodded thoughtfully at Leopold's request, a sense of kinship kindling at his expressed desire not to have prolonged contact, and said, "Certainly, you may use my first name." She reached out with first only the tips of her fingers, tracing them down the flesh-like polymer that formed the android's "skin". Her fingers, calloused but still possessing a fine degree of sensitivity, gently probed the substance, noting the spongy elasticity that did a credible imitation of subcutaneous tissues before she felt the press of his underlying structure. The "skin" was cool, and the shapes she could feel through it could in no way be mistaken for the bones of a human skull, but her eyes still marveled at the clear attention to detail that obviously went into his construction. Whoever did assemble Leopold, they did masterful work.

Ayira ended her swift, clinical exploration with a cautious tracing of Leopold's eyes, noting with interest the moisture that came away on her fingers. The substance gave her no pause, trusting it to be sterile. She nodded thoughtfully as Charlotte explained her reasoning for the lubricant, then asked, "If you don't mind me asking, is there any particular purpose to your attempting to circumvent the uncanny valley reaction?"

It was certainly a pet project of hers, she added silently, but for very private reasons, the recalling of which in such company served to bring embarrassed roses blooming in her cheeks again, for all that Leopold's apparent age was a tad advanced for her tastes. "As for seeing Leopold's head... at a glance I didn't notice any of the filth that accompanies organic death, dismemberment or decay, so I assumed that he had to be either a lifelike model that someone was using for reference, or an ongoing project, considering that we are in a workroom." She shrugged modestly and cast her eyes downward, not wanting to inadvertently give the impression that she was boasting of her skills of deduction. It was another thing that she had learned people were sometimes unpredictably sensitive about.

Another question occurred to the girl, and she glanced up through the dark fringe of her eyelashes, the soft, dusky pink lips of her full mouth pursed thoughtfully. "You said that you designed Leopold's programming; what is it that you see yourself doing with androids of his sophistication? You don't seem like the purely research type."

She paused, then added, "I suppose this could be seen as corollary to my first question- you don't have to answer either of them if you don't want to. I guess what I'm trying to say is, you obviously have an incredible degree of technical prowess, if you can design software with sufficient subtlety that it could comprehend a tragedy and then formulate a reaction modified by its perceived severity and the personality you installed- you're on the leading edge of this kind of research, and you're still at school. Where do you want to go with it?" Eyes of molten chocolate found the lily-paleness of Natsuki's face, emboldened for the moment by her powerful curiosity. They seemed to have such similar research interests; intellectual kinship was a form of bond that Ayira had never really experienced. It wasn't even that she was the most intelligent in her class, but that her interests were too esoteric, her devotion to academics perhaps too intense, for her to really bond with her peers on that front.

"Charlotte" and Leopold, in short, were doing a fine job of luring the dark-skinned beauty to them. Ayira was powerfully intrigued with the doll-like figure and her achievements, and once her mind had taken an interest in something, it was very difficult to break that fixation until her thirst for knowledge was assuaged.

Ayira mixed explanation with a number of questions that were timed so that Charlotte had little chance to answer without interrupting. This suited Natsuki fine since she needed to consider her responses thoroughly to maintain a semblance of normalcy, and the fetching student's enthusiasm for her work was delightfully flattering. She felt justifiable pride in Leopold; even if, as Ayira had surmised, his creation had little to do with any zeal for research. It was also the case that Ayira's admiration of Leopold ran parallel to Natsuki's admiration of her, so the longer Ayira was distracted by analyzing Leopold the longer Natsuki could silently observe her. Already she'd displayed a number of irresistible mannerisms. Her poses were direct and unschooled, entirely lacking the pretense of more socially minded women, pared down to graceful, utilitarian movements. It did not matter to her that when she reached out to probe the android's surface her shirt rode up her arm to reveal another inch of smooth skin, or that her lips took on an inviting shape as she curiously rubbed lubricant between her fingers. Her nubile vigor was of no concern, except to Natsuki, who while standing behind her had developed a preternatural preoccupation with the way the denim of her jeans squeezed her plush backside.

"You might say Leopold was made lifelike for the sake of interactional ergonomics." Natsuki said at last after realizing that she'd been unconsciously fingering the tip of her tongue while she'd been staring. It wouldn't do if Ayira caught her doing something like that. "So far interfacing with a robot has involved somewhat esoteric protocols, such as uploading snippets of executable code, which is fine for the highly trained but bothersome for everyday use, especially for laypersons. Working in DOS or programming language kept computers restricted to a minority. It was only once icons came into popular use that they became widespread."

The patter of patent leather shoes on the tile floor as Charlotte moved to occupy a spot between two shelving units gave Ayira reason to turn her eyes toward the waifish woman, seeing her stretch her arms out to encompass by gesture the objects stacked around her. "If I were NASA, and I wanted one of their robots to reach up to one of these tools, I would have to locate it using on-board sensors, calculate it's position relative to the orientation of the robot, and then upload coordinates to move one of it's manipulators to the tool. Very complicated. On the other hand, I can just point out the tool to you," she said, demonstrating by pointing at a wrench, "and you'd have no trouble walking over and getting it. You can figure things out for yourself, and you can understand my natural gestures and phrases."

Charlotte returned to the worktable and hopped on top of it, hefting Leopold in her hands and holding it in front of her face so that his stolid mein regarded Ayira from her sprightly body. "Leopold has an internal grasp of syntax and logic, and can link concepts deductively in his mind to interpret novel uses, as well as imitate others. He can interact with human beings in a human mode, complete with idiosyncrasies picked up over time. To answer yours second question, I need Leopold to do this so that he can replace humans." Charlotte paused dramatically, then turned him around in consternation. "Come on Leopold. You were supposed to laugh maniacally."

"Moo who ha ha ha." Leopold said in a voice heavy with irony. Charlotte rolled her eyes and tossed Leopold contemptuously into Ayira's hands.

"Well fine. My fault for deemphasizing your sense of humor. Anyways Ayira, my goal is to make robotic servants, just like the sort depicted in so many films and science fiction novels. To realize the ancient human goal of crafting simulacra. Leopold is intended to be a caretaker or chaperon, a sort of assistant. He's personable, and can act as a companion, but he won't allow social niceties to interfere with being competent in his duties."

"My dry, gentlemanly personality also encourages respect and politeness in humans, promoting prudent, rational behavior." added Leopold, prompting his creator to impishly thumb her nose at him.

Ayira's eyes turned briefly from Leopold as she registered the sound of movement, her gaze caught and held by Charlotte raising to her tiptoes in demonstration of her point. Her aesthetic sense had to admit a moment of admiration at the graceful arabesque formed by the petite woman's lithe form, but Ayira's growing fondness for the eccentric elder student had little to do with the fact that she was visually pleasing and far more to do with the fact that she was neither intimidated by her intellectual enthusiasm nor scornful of her questions. It was so nice to be able to just discuss her passion with another mind in her chosen field, the cocoa-skinned woman thought happily, listening to Charlotte's explanations, unaware of the cheerful curve growing on her lips in response to her mood.

In fact, Ayira startled herself when she responded to Charlotte and Leopold's brief comedy sketch of villainous plotting with a giggle of her own, bringing a surprising note of sunshine to the sterile, stainless steel-surfaced workroom. Sobering quickly, although a laughing light remained in her chocolate eyes, she remarked cautiously, "That's an ambitious project... and not unlike one I've been studying for myself." She paused for a moment, then seemed to decide that she had said enough on the topic, concluding with, "I find it encouraging that work at this level can be accomplished in this facility- I was beginning to believe that nothing short of a governmental program would have the necessary resources." Ayira smiled brightly again, although a hint of color tinged her cheeks as her long-suffering libido offered some suggestions as to which branches of her desired project should be given priority. "How long have you been here at Shokushu, then?"

"A government program?" Natsuki allowed herself to consider the thought in an amused fashion. Indeed, Shokushu was a government program, though definitely not the sort which Ayira could have suspected she was sure. High levels of work could easily be accomplished by the students who resided on campus, helped along by such generous funding and supplies that most pupils took them for granted. Natsuki had never thought of it before, but maybe such funding was partly an apology to the girls of Shokushu for sacrificing them to the interstellar sex trade. Or maybe, a more cynical part of her suggested, it was merely to extract the maximum value from them before they were shipped off for chattel. Some of the selected students were veritable geniuses. Like Ayira herself?

"I've been...attending Shokushu for five or six years." Charlotte said firmly. Actually she'd been haunting the 'school' for nearly eight, but she doubted that Ayira was ready to believe that she was working on a doctorate's degree, so it was more expedient to relay a smaller number. "Don't worry about seniority. Talent is more important here. It isn't as if I created Leopold's cognitive matrix without building on existing work, you know?" Her smile was calculated to encourage, neutrally mirrored by Leopold as Ayira held him. In a trice Charlotte descended from her perch on the worktable, landing in a flounce that brought her up short of Ayira, whereupon she held out her hands to retrieve Leopold from her and set him on the surface behind her. "It sounds like we'll be working in the same field Ayira. The same class too, probably, since almost all of these classes are held at the same time. They last for hours." Charlotte giggled, apparently thrilled to tears, and made a little show of bouncing on her toes in delight rather than ostentatiously leaping about. "We could work together! If you want I mean." Charlotte abruptly sobered. In the background, Leopold blinked, having just received a data package from Shokushu Administration.

"A majority of students are discomfited when working in tandem with a teaching assistant Charlotte." Leopold remarked, ostensibly to dampen Charlotte's eagerness but knowing that his creator would notice the hint. Shokushu had acceded to Natsuki's request for a temporary position of authority in the robotics department, giving her the job of TA. Utilizing their characteristic brand of humor, Shokushu had also appointed her a special title; Resource, Acquisition, and Project Evaluation Supervisor. Acronym R.A.P.E.S. How charming, Leopold thought to himself in what amounted to a sigh.

Ayira cast Charlotte an inquisitive look, a mute invitation to let her in on whatever joke was so amusing the doll-like girl. She had long since learned that asking what people were laughing at tended to make her the butt of jokes, however, and that well-worn sensitivity prevented her from being more obvious. She shifted her attention back to the conversation, saying with interest, "So you're going to be graduating soon, then? Or are you planning on staying longer?"

The caramel-skinned girl had no trouble believing that Charlotte could be either an especially thorough undergraduate or working on a Master's degree. She looked to be only a little older than Ayira herself, but she held herself as if she were quite experienced with the school and life in general, so the lie passed unexamined. She blinked and then offered a shy smile in return at Charlotte's encouraging demeanor, "It's good to hear that the class structure is flexible based on student's needs- it would be wonderful to work at my own pace for once." She blushed as soon as the rather boastful-sounding words had left her mouth, and said quickly, "I really look forward to seeing you in class, then, Charlotte. Your work is quite impressive. If we do work together..." she blushed again, cherry underlying the chocolate of her skin. "I think I'd enjoy that." Her smile grew at Charlotte's little display of glee, toned down to a level that wouldn't overwhelm the freshman. She was a little taken aback by the abrupt shift to solemnity, but was growing accustomed to the girl's mercurial temperament.

She glanced up as Leopold gave Charlotte his gentle rebuke, saying on her behalf, "Oh, so you're already in a graduate program, then? Don't worry about me; I'm more used to working with teachers than with students my own age, anyway. I'd still like to work with you- that is, if you're willing to work with a freshman." Logically, she knew that Charlotte had already offered, fully aware of her class standing, but she still felt a bit awkward acting as if their cooperation was a foregone conclusion. She absently fidgeted with the hem of her soft cotton T-shirt, tugging it down over the waist of her jeans again where it had crept up over the course of the conversation. The motion pulled the stretchy orange fabric into an even more familiar embrace against her, cradling the fullness of her bosom and spanning her waist with innocent intimacy.

Unconscious of the side effects of her fidgeting, Ayira crossed her arms to stop herself from fidgeting and stood still, waiting on Charlotte's reply and silently hoping she hadn't made a complete fool of herself thus far.

"Oh, inexperience doesn't bother me in a potential partner." Natsuki said, hand on her heart, pressing fervently into her chest to redirect the impulse to smile at her ironic double entendre. No, she didn't consider inexperience to be anything but a virtue, treasured, fleeting. As Ayira innocently adjusted her shirt she dragged the net of fibers over her nubile contours, making the pattern of threads ripple liquidly over her generous breasts and the shallow line, like that in an apricot, bisecting her supple abdomen. An illusion, but one that made the cotton seem altogether permeable. "Besides, you're no robot virgin, afterall." A pause to watch orange fabric recede up the sheer face of Ayira's stomach, fringed with vermillion shade. "You're the first freshman to explore the workshop, and you're not unfamiliar with work on androids, unless you mean something else when you say that we're studying similar topics."

Natsuki meant to be reassuring toward the other girl, unaware of the suspicions Leopold was compiling as a result of his research. Ayira was no robot virgin. An errant comment, nonetheless deeply resonant with Ayira's carnal secret. No stranger to the sensual touch of silicon, versed in the ergonomics of human/robot interaction. Her thighs remembered the power of mechanical oscillations (their pattern quite proprietary). Non-hypoallergenic metals, contact textures, a variety of lubricant properties were among the facts she'd personally tested. Natsuki's inadvertent allusion to the woman's proclivities was like the unexpected impression of somebody's hand brushing her backside in passing. Ayira's cherry flush intensified, sympathetic nervous system fully fired. It was automatic. Hackle-raising. Buttocks clenched. Adrenaline soaked, Ayira's brain connected her excitement with the fine figured nymph in front of her. Psychologists classify the association with infatuation.

Leopold detecting an interruption in the girl's breathing, noted afterward the shortening of infrared waves emanating from her skin. As a gentleman, he was obligated to interfere. "Ahem." Leopold elected to pronounce the word entire rather than simulate the noise of a phlegmy epiglottis. "I needed to clear my throat." The android's dry delivery was enough to elicit a smirk from Natsuki. Meanwhile, her pointed glance asked what was that for? "I shall take the liberty of filing the electronic paperwork to assign you, Ayira, to Charlotte's supervision. I can accomplish this from my present whereabouts, saving you some trouble."

"If nothing else, I've programmed a competent secretary." Natsuki remarked fondly while stroking Leopold's hair. His face configured itself into a mien of wounded dignity. "I'll look forward to seeing you next class period, Ayira." She added, taking Leopold's hint from before. "I need to get ready for my next course, so we'll have to acquaint ourselves better then."

Ayira's glowing cheeks cooled a bit in relief at Charlotte's reassurance, then flamed back brighter than before as her mind took the slightly mischievous turn of phrase and connected it to a whole host of salacious memories: the slick, utterly sanitary glide of silicone against her own ripe flesh, the electronic hum of her inventions secretly applied to far more intimate places than anyone would ever suspect the reserved, brilliant young woman craved... the sharp, almost cruel bite of electricity against flesh swollen with arousal... Her safety was in her carefully maintained distance, giving no hint of the more than healthy appetite held at bay by her tactile aversion. Stop blushing, stupid; there's no way she could know.

She dropped her eyes in an attempt to recover her poise, willing her breathing to calm and blessing the fact that Charlotte would be unable to see the heat that kept her subtly clenching her thighs together, the rough brush of denim distracting her from the tactile memories racing through her nerves. Leopold's contrived cough brought her gaze back up, looking innocently through a demure veil of thick eyelashes at the helpful android and his lovely creatrix, far too composed for Ayira to suspect Charlotte of intentionally hinting at the solution she had found to her desires.

Mingled relief and excitement to be working with such an advanced student brought a beaming smile out on the girl's face as she replied, "That is very considerate of you, Leopold. Thank you." Ayira turned her sunshiny smile on Charlotte next, the expression taking on a note of shyness again as she fidgeted absentmindedly with the belt-loops of her jeans, tugging and twisting them in her inexplicably adventurous fingers as she added, "I'm really looking forward to working with you, Charlotte."

A thought occurred to her, and she snatched a small notebook from one of her pockets, scribbling quickly on it before tearing out the sheet and taking a light, almost mincing step closer to present it to the blond-crowned wisp before her. "This is the room I've been assigned, so if you need to get in touch with me outside of class, you can slide a note under my door or meet me there, if you'd like." Note delivered, she smiled again, warmth and coy innocence suffusing the expression as she turned and almost skipped out of the workroom, blissfully unaware of any extra-intent observation as her hair swished playfully against the lush curves of her hips.

"I'll be getting in touch with you, certainly." Natsuki barely breathed, far too engaged in a rapt study of Ayira's nimble, lighthearted departure to notice her newest double-entendre. She mentally cataloged the delectable freshman's repertoire of alluring mannerisms: hips gliding as if on oiled bearings, the oscillation of her pelvis locking crisply at either terminus of the arc; the pistonlike moment of her legs that overcame the constraints of jealously hugging jeans; the metallic shine saturating her hair flashing up and down in a band, measuring the length as it swished slinkily across bobbing buttocks; her cute reservations that made her smile a bit crooked, her gestures hesitantly muted.

Leopold aligned his eyes to record Ayira's exit in full video and sent the data rebounding across the school's wireless relays onto Natsuki's personal bank of terminals in the basement. His sensors did register the increase in infrared intensity emanating from the vicinity of Ayira's nethers, which he noted for further analysis. He also detected an unusual absence of a certain vital audio signal, and realized that Natsuki had forgotten to breath for a space of thirteen point oh seven seconds. As far as he'd observed she didn't require oxygen per say, but it was safest to treat her like a normal human being until a difference had been positively identified, so he rendered a high pitched tone which jarred Natsuki out of her reverie.

"Oh Leopold...oh my! I don't think I've been so entranced by a girl since..." Natsuki groped for a comparison, then blinked after a handful of fruitless instants, bemused. Since never, she marveled.

"Miss, your biorhythms have deviated significantly from their established patterns. You desire Ayira intensely."

"What an unnecessary, drab statement." Natsuki frowned, and placed her palm to her heart, which did beat frenetically. "Do you imagine that I didn't notice?"

"My apologies Miss. I did not mean to suggest..." but Leopold was drowned out by Natsuki's fit of laughter. She looked perilously deranged, clutching her blouse in helpless laughter until gritting her teeth to stop herself. A button snapped off in her fist. Leopold's eyes widened, the only facial cue that he was alarmed, as he watched the woman's behavior. His function was to safeguard Natsuki's health and safety; attending to her whims was secondary.

"Natsuki Saika!" Leopold barked, forgoing his customary polite form of address. "Pull yourself together!" Natsuki jumped.

"Sure Leopold. Of course. I shall try to relax." Natsuki picked Leopold off the table and held him at arms length. Deciding to take her leave, she placed Ayira's room number in her bra. Heading to her room, she traced her fingers over the paper.

"Miss?"

"Yes Leopold." Natsuki's voice came out throaty. "What is it?"

"You're going to see her again?"

"Naturally. Are you dense?" A pause. "What else?"

"Perhaps you should take a tranquilizer next time. A suggestion, nothing more. And also..." Natsuki raised a slender brow. "I've uploaded some footage of Miss Hansen to your computer. I...sensed you'd enjoy that." Natsuki warmed, the temperature in her skin literally raising.

"Thank you. But I think perhaps some rest would be better. I shall see her tomorrow in class, no?"

The next morning, after Ayira had enjoyed a surprisingly sound sleep after the stress of the day, she rose and found herself anticipating her first day with even more fervor than usual. Perhaps the difference was the chance to set her own pace in her studies, or the knowledge that she had already found a brilliant mentor to discuss her projects with... or perhaps it was Charlotte's uncanny knack for unintentionally reminding Ayira of her most private of goals in her discipline: a sentient artificial companion, one that could keep pace with her intellect and desires without being repulsed by either, to create a truer, more trustworthy companion for herself than any sordid mingling of biological slimes could yield. Charlotte's Leopold was evidence that others were pioneering similar technology, if only for the purpose of domestic servants. Although I suppose a portion of my vision is rather domestic, she mused, as she tugged her uniform over her lush curves.

Having pulled the skirt and blouse on, Ayira then strode over to the full-length mirror against her wall, frowning as she surveyed her reflection. She was certain that the secretary had taken her measurements down correctly, but the taut cotton hugged her bosom so snugly that she was reminded of the corsets that another high school friend was rather fond of at one point. She turned to one side, noticing that the tightness of the cloth minimized that profile, but forced her bounteous chest upwards to form a deep v from the front. She squirmed, fidgeting with the top in an effort to minimize the way it framed her cleavage, but to no avail. Her breasts were forced into prominence, their fullness straining at the material as if they were trying to escape. I have to request a different size, Ayira thought. I can't go through a week in clothes like this. She shuddered at the nightmare image of walking down the halls, surrounded by delicate, small-boned girls who all fit seamlessly into their uniforms, feeling their judgemental eyes boring into her bulging lewdly out of her confining, too-small clothes.

Her cell phone jingled with her last alarm, making her jump. The freshman girl stared unhappily at herself, tugging fruitlessly at the pleated skirt that brushed her voluptuous thighs far higher than she was comfortable with and trying to stretch her blouse one last time to give herself a bit more breathing room before she resigned herself to the fact that she had to leave now, or she was going to be late.

Seizing her backpack, she left her room and sprinted down the hall, descending the dormitory tower in time to mingle with a crowd of other students making their way to their morning classes. Contrary to her fears, Ayira saw that all of them were in skirts far shorter than she would have expected to be regulation at a private school, and that even the slimmest and smallest-chested of the students had been issued a blouse that would bring her assets to unavoidable attention, which replaced her anxiety with confusion. What is the point of dressing all of us like schoolgirl-themed strippers? Her emotions underwent another alchemical process, refining themselves into anger. This school is prestigious enough that we all had to have worked hard to get where we are- is this some kind of joke?

Ayira was in a fine temper by the time she made her way to her classroom, silently promising herself that once her classes were concluded, she would go to the office and demand an explanation for why the student brochures advertised a serious academic institution, rather than the naughty schoolgirl-themed peep show that she was seeing. Her intelligence was one of the few things that she was truly confident of, and insulting it was one of the few ways one could guarantee a reaction from the usually mild-mannered girl.

Still, as she made her way into the (rather small) classroom, peopled by only about fifteen other students, she pushed her anger aside. She was determined to get the most out of her lessons that she could, dismissive administration or no. She bent carefully over her desk, smoothing her short skirt down behind her nervously before arranging the books she would need on her desk. It was at that moment that she heard another person enter the room, looked up, and saw Charlotte on the other end of her gaze. Still bowed over her desk, she was for a brief moment unaware of the confining grasp of her blouse against her bosom as she treated the older girl to a warm smile, chocolate eyes sparkling with excitement as the class settled for the start of the lesson. This, she thought in satisfaction as she settled into her seat. This is what I'm here for.

The class began before the characteristic chatter of the new students had died away, commencement signaled when the professor, a tiny Japanese man with magnifying glasses for spectacles and a thin lipped, frog-like grin, turned the deadbolt in the entranceway. A moment later the double doors jumped; a tardy student pushed indignantly on the other end to no avail. Still grinning, the instructor pigeon toed his way to his desk.

"I," he began, notably without a trace of accent, "am Akira." He eschewed the use of 'doctor' in his title, though the framed plaque on his desk proved that he had the credentials. Professor Akira (his first name not his last) launched into an enthusiastic and jovial lecture that laid out his demands of the class. He demanded because he had no expectations of his students. If they didn't make the grade they would be cut--no forewarning, no dispute. The student who'd been barred from class provided a choice example.

"Don't worry, I haven't dropped her for tardiness on the first day." Akira assured, spectacles winking. "But I will not brook any lack of diligence. This class is the most resource intensive of its kind, so your training as roboticists is an expensive investment. I am a no risk sort of guy."

Natsuki Saika had heard it all before. She liked Akira, his genius was the idiosyncratic, unalterable type which allowed her to disregard his other aspects. However, after three years using the workshop, lurking among the supplies to watch half-dressed women inadvertently dripping grease on themselves, the professor was only background. As if that were the only excuse for her inattention; Ayira sat beside her. Natsuki smelled her, tasted her closeness, the sweat already welling up in the crease of her squashed breasts. For once Natsuki disapproved of the school uniforms which contrasted too sharply with Ayira's skin. Such orchid whiteness did not belong next to such rich hues, glaring, so that the russet undertones which had been so vibrantly highlighted by yesterday's vermilion T-shirt recede into the overall duskiness. Okay, yes, Shokushu wanted to project a theme. Innocence on display, of course, she understood the marketing. Nubile flesh in the tropics--every alien's delight! Still, Ayira would look better in something which more properly cherished her assets. Well, she'd take care of that, even if she had to pay the staff for a special dispensation. Ahhh! Ayira Hansen, I'll guard you from the basement's perils until I've diverted myself with you, Natsuki thought. It would be her delight to savor the woman's sweet virginity.

"Present..." somebody was calling out, and Natsuki's irritation made her prickle. "Present!" another girl called, and Akira placed a slash by the student's name on his clipboard. Natsuki made an annoyed moue, then drummed the desktop with her fingernails and released an exaggerated sigh, hoping to excite a laugh out of her voluptuous victim. Leopold had given her quite the detailed dossier on Ayira earlier that day. Such details! Unspoiled chastity, the specifics of her weight and dimensions (which Natsuki memorized as personal treasures), and, based on a photocopy of one of Ayira's working notebooks, an even keener mind than she'd suspected. And of course the most titillating ornament in an intriguing summary: Ayira's fascination with erotic robots. Leopold had first suspected Ayira's naughty proclivity after analyzing records of the fragmentary components she'd brought on arrival. Miniature piston cylinders, high output servos, ingredients for curing latex, none of it meaningful until put into context with the woman's phobia of organic contamination and the physiological data Shokushu collected that revealed an abnormally active libido. Leopold's suspicions were confirmed by Ayira's reaction to some of Natsuki's innocuous comments; Ayira was a robophiliac.

"...well?" Akira was intruding on Natsuki's thoughts again. She gave him a huff, then saw that the rest of the class was staring at her. What had she missed?

"Are you a part of this class or aren't you?" Akira asked dourly. "I've run through my list and you haven't called present. What's your name?"

"Charlotte." Natsuki donned a mystified expression, and pouted at Akira. She sat up straight on her stool, letting him see the slight scowl in her delicate eyebrows, unhappy. Recognition caused the professor to drop his pen. "I'm Ayira's Resource Acquisition and Project Evaluator...are you so old you've forgotten your favorite student Aki?"

"I know who you are!" Akira, flustered, gave a conciliatory chuckle, bowing slightly. "My mistake. I can't believe...I didn't recognize you."

The moment that Ayira spotted the professor enter the room, her body language transformed from awkward and mildly irritated to sitting at rapt attention, briefly distracted from the way that posture presented her bosom like ripe fruits begging to be plucked from the branch by Akira's introductory speech. He seemed passionate, demanding, impeccably brilliant... Ayira was in heaven. Maybe this isn't just a peep show for creepy administrators, she thought hopefully. She prided herself on being able to tell a great deal about the quality of a course from the instructor's introductory speech, and she had yet to hear anything that struck a dissonant chord with her. She listened intently, blissfully ignorant of Natsuki's lustful gaze or the thoughts percolating behind her innocent lily-fair facade.

Attendance was called, Ayira confirming her presence as the professor spoke her name. The drumming of nails brought her attention back to Charlotte, and she cast her an inquisitive look at the theatrical sigh that burst forth from her just as Akira questioned her presence in the classroom. She made it sound like she was a graduate assistant, Ayira thought with a sinking feeling. Is his mind not as sharp as it seems, or did she lie to me?

Perhaps such reflexive mistrust was not a common feature in one so young as Ayira, but her father abandoning their family just as she was beginning to dream of college, leaving them to flounder in the emotional and financial wreckage by themselves, taught her a hard lesson: everyone lies.

That grim train of thought was interrupted as Charlotte identified herself (with an informal abbreviation of the professor's name that made Ayira blanch), and, to her sharpened gaze, Akira seemed to fold in on himself, appearing almost... fearful? to her eye before she dismissed the notion as the product of an overly suspicious mind. Still, he should have recognized her... Maybe his mind is going, she thought with resignation. Still, as long as it only affects his facial recognition, that will be all right.

Once Akira's back was turned, Ayira leaned in towards Charlotte and whispered, "Is he always this forgetful?"

"Oh no, not at all." Charlotte responded in as cavalier a way as possible. She smoothed her hands across the table, giving her time to elaborate. It wouldn't do for Ayira to harbor any doubts about the class, or especially about her defined role as her mentor. Akira's glasses winked brightly as he sat down to consult some materials on his desk. Eureka!

"It's his eyes." She encircled her own eyes with index fingers and thumbs, then dropped the levity in favor of a sympathetic pout. "There's a limit to what spectacles can do and Aki's just about hit the limit, unfortunately. He's really only good for close work these days, but he won't admit it." Natsuki as Charlotte dropped her speech to match Ayira's whisper to deliver her revelation, hoping to reinforce the idea that the student shouldn't bring it up. Surely Akira's eyes were bad, but she wasn't sure exactly how far his vision had degraded; it might be embarrassing if Ayira tried to verify her story. Talking so quietly also gave her an excuse to lean near to the young woman. It was all she could do to keep her hands flat on the desk instead of trying to stroke those attenuated, nimble fingers. "He's still fantastic with robots, and he'll recognize you up close, which is fine since he teaches more as a consultant than as a lecturer."

The remainder of the class, after the professor concluded his introduction, proved the last part of Natsuki's statement correct; Akira ran his class in fashion of military license. A handout was disseminated through the class for everybody to review which explained his protocols for study. Any student was allowed to pursue any project they felt themselves capable of as long as they could provide the professor a rough outline of their plans and demonstrate facility with a sample of the necessary skills. There would be no animatronics unless the student knew how to use servos. All the tools in the workshop were available without exception, including the databases accessible through the computer workstations, but for out-of-class work materials had to be requisitioned.

"That's going to be easier for you since I'm helping." Charlotte explained, pointing to the passage regarding requisitions. "It lets Aki focus on novice students and lets you cut through some red tape. I approve projects for you instead of the professor. It counts toward my credit hours too, so its win-win all the way around." Natsuki smiled at how her latest prevarication established common ground between herself and Ayira. She was a student too, only senior. It was important that her prospective lover believe that early on. Now to introduce the most problematic element of her scheme, the aspect most likely to raise luscious Ayira's suspicions.

"Were you informed who your roommate is going to be yet?" A loud clatter resounded as somebody tried to heft a piece of structural steel. Natsuki fumed, shaking with rage at the interruption. Mustn't frighten her off, she reminded herself, and affected a mysterious expression that would allow her "protege" to interpret her trembling as excitement. Press the lips together, fidget a little, blush. That's it. After a proper pause she burst out, "It's me! I'm she!" It was simple to laugh, to release the effulgence of hysteria that had been building in her for the last hour of basking in the sumptuous beauty's tantalizing, incomparable presence. A clap of her hands was the cherry on top. "I guess the administration thought it made sense because I'm already assigned to you for the class. Sometimes the bureaucrats get something right, no?"

Ayira nodded furtively, relieved that the confusion was due to such a simple issue. Nearsightedness was hardly a fault in a profession requiring such close detail work, at least until it reached the level that Akira was apparently approaching. The caramel-skinned student felt a brief surge of pity and quietly hoped that she never had to suffer the indignity of her sight failing her.

A small smile lit her face at Charlotte's next revelation, pleased as she was to hear that she would be able to bypass some of the no doubt well-intentioned policies guarding the supply cabinets from the students- or more likely, guarding the students from their own enthusiasm. Even as she was counting her blessings, Ayira had to ask, "How did you get assigned to me, anyway? There wasn't any option to apply to have a student mentor in any of the paperwork I saw, and it doesn't seem like anyone else in the class has one." If, in a few years, Ayira found herself shy a few credit hours, she could certainly think of worse ways to earn them than in tutoring someone else in her discipline.

Startled both by her mentor's query and then the subsequent clatter of dropped steel, Ayira blinked for a moment before answering hesitantly, "No, I'd been under the impression that since I was alone on move-in day that I wouldn't have a roommate, at least not this term." She watched the other girl's pale, excited face trembling with suppressed tension, wondering what on Earth could have aroused such effervescence over the vacancy of the other bed in her room.

Her exclamation quickly explained it. Ayira hoped that her being rather flattered that Charlotte was so pleased to be living with her covered her faint dismay at no longer having a room to herself. It was a pleasant surprise to have a single, and she had been looking forward to having her own private sanctum, but... Oh, well. "Oh! Is it regular for them to move people around after term has started? I think I'd be annoyed to be suddenly reassigned... but I guess you're not too bothered," she concluded with a small quirk in her lips. "Will you need help moving in? Nothing should be in the way, but I don't mind helping if you have something heavy to carry."

Natsuki was so taken aback by Ayira's well-meaning offer that she forgot to shield her expression. She blinked in a flurry, moving her lips prettily around words that never formed. Sometimes the discrepancies of her lifestyle compared to the students interjected themselves into her personas, though the potentiality of that in this case hadn't impressed itself upon her until the present moment. In truth she never moved her affects herself; inanimate possessions were a triviality whose management she left to Leopold, or occasionally to members of Shokushu's staff. Whenever Natsuki made up her mind to relocate she merely informed Leopold of the fact, and generally she found her apartments suitably accoutered by the time she deigned to retire for the day. Her shock was too apparent to dismiss, but so incongruent to Ayira's mundane question that an explanation was needed.

"Oh! Oh!" Natsuki blushed foolishly. That at least bought her some time, and it was an honest enough reaction that it didn't merit inspection. But how was she going to dissemble her way out of this? Wait. Breathe. Natsuki traded her blush for a sheepish smile, trying for polite embarrassment. Honesty might just be the solution.

"Sorry, you caught me off guard. I don't usually think of that sort of thing." Easy enough to say, since it happened to be true. She shrugged, as if to excuse herself.

"I've been having Leopold do the heavy lifting, so to speak, for more than a year now." Her proud smile was self congratulations for navigating Ayira's innocent trap, but the young roboticist would surely interpret it as creator's conceit. From the maiden's perspective Leopold was highly advanced, commensurately impressive, so Natsuki knew that Ayira would forgive her small hubris.

"But you've only been introduced to his processor-case haven't you? He has an entire humanoid chassis that you haven't seen yet. The motor system isn't mine to take credit for but animatronics aren't my specialty. Leopold's exterior design is all my work though. Aesthetics are important to the ergonomic interface for androids of his purpose, and since I happen to be an accomplished sculptor," Natsuki paused to toss her head in a blatantly ironic caricature of artistic pretension, "I utilized that to make him appear as realistically human as possible." Yes Natsuki, sweep her away with jargon. Keep her from asking more troublesome questions. You don't want her thinking about Shokushu's bureaucracy if you can help it. Don't give her a chance to analyze your role. Direct the woman's thoughts until she's following the path you set out for her. "I added all the details I could: elastic skin complete with age discoloration, pigment variations, simulated diaphragm expansion, anatomical correctness..."

"Hey. Shush! You're distracting me from the lecture!" Complained a primly done-up brunette who had swiveled herself in her seat to address Natsuki. In her fervor she'd begun speaking too loudly, and several of the brunette's peers were adding their irate glances to the phalanx of disapproval. Damn that girl's sanctimonious diligence! The severity of her answering stare alarmed Akira from across the room, and he hastily interdicted himself.

"Don't concern yourself with your classmates Melinda. Your attention should be on me!" Akira's reprimand was overly stern, and Melinda said as much, but the professor raised his voice and proceeded with his lecture. The danger to Melinda, however, had not been averted. Natsuki had been incensed already. The pretty little simpleton should have kept to herself, Natsuki thought. Quite a pretty girl, now that she thought of it. Melinda's little mouth, pursed into a tight, complacent bow, remained in her imagination as she prepared to recommence her discussion with Ayira. She felt Ayira's proximity keenly, but now wasn't the time to vent her amorous inclinations on her. But she had no qualms about doing so with Melinda. Resolving to visit the girl's dorm room that evening she spoke again.

"I guess I'm a bit too zealous about my work. Where were we? Sharing a room, that's right. You probably thought you'd been assigned a room by yourself." Natsuki shook her head tersely, sighing. "Sorry. I thought so too when I was a freshman, but its against policy for everybody but Prefects and Head Girls. But I'm at the workshop or the library most of the time, so it won't be much different. And anyway, Leopold can keep you company. He won't even mind if you dismantle him once in a while if you put him back together correctly."