Chapter Text
For as long as she could remember, Hakase Shinonome had been alone.
She remembered nothing of her parents, if she ever had any. Sometimes she caught brief mental glimpses of something– a mother's voice, a father's arms– but she never knew if they were really hazy recollections from her younger days, or just fantasies masquerading as memories.
She survived by herself, tinkering with inventions or playing juvenile games to pass the time. When she ran low on food, she took money from its secret spot in the cupboards and wandered her way down to the grocery store, asking passersby for directions, who always assumed she was on an errand for her mother.
In this way she survived for a long time, living on her own in the best way a 6 year old could, always fearing that something would come along that she was too young to handle. She was a genius, of course, but intellect only went so far, and many long nights she spent yearning for a companion, someone who would hold her hand and protect her the way a child should be.
One evening, after a long and lonely day full of solitary games and idle inventions, she decided– if she didn't have a companion, she would make one.
And so her project began.
She didn't know what exactly she wanted to make. A parent? A sibling? A friend? All she knew was that she wanted somebody to walk her to the bathroom at night, and comfort her during thunderstorms, and reach things on tall shelves so she didn't need to climb on a chair. And whoever that was, whatever person or thing it ended up being– she would be happy. She wanted somebody to love, and who would love her.
Day and night she worked, abandoning her games, her other inventions, even forgetting to eat her precious snacks. She strained the limits of her brilliant mind, creating the perfect robot companion to fill the hole left by parents she never knew.
She made her creation old enough to care for a child, but young enough to play. Tall enough to reach high shelves, but short enough to hug. Smart enough to be responsible, but not smarter than Hakase. She filled her with as many features as she could think of, some more useful than others– a rollcake dispenser in her left arm, a sweet bun dispenser in her forehead, removable toes, a built-in digital watch, a soybean machine gun, super strength, and a key on her back that, when turned, launched her big toe like a rocket. She was particularly proud of that last one.
And one year later, Hakase stepped back and admired what she had done, her chest swelling with pride.
She named her creation– no, her companion– Nano.
Nano Shinonome.
–
They lived each day happily, free of hardships or worries, a pleasantly mundane loop of games and snacks and chores. Hakase rejoiced in each day that passed– she didn't care what she was doing, only that she had someone to do it with.
The status quo shifted (for the better, in Hakase's opinion) when a small black cat joined their family.
Hakase named him Sakamoto, after the box he was found in, and she created a scarf that allowed him to speak. She loved him, the way any child loves an animal, but more than that, she felt that Sakamoto was a kind of brother to her. They were both much more intelligent than their appearances suggested, and often became frustrated at the way they were infantilized by adults around them. In this way they felt a sort of kinship, a solidarity in their shared experience. Though Hakase tormented poor Sakamoto with her pranks, she cared for him deeply.
"Sakamoto-san," he would correct her, but Hakase never cared much for politeness.
–
They were an odd picture, the three of them. An 8 year old genius, a caretaking robot she created, and a talking cat. An unconventional, ragtag sort of family, a cobbled-together imitation of a traditional household. A parody of normality, three beings chasing after a typical life they never got to have.
And yet, they were happy with what they had. Or rather, Hakase and Nano were happy– Sakamoto remained a mystery, but at least he remained at all.
Until something arrived that challenged Hakase's peaceful family life.
School.
Nano wanted to go to school.
Why? Hakase could teach her anything she wanted to know right at home. Everything from college-level theoretical physics to the history of ancient Egypt– she could rattle formulas off as easy as the alphabet and solve algebra equations in her sleep. Nano would never need to take a class in anything, because Hakase could teach her.
So why was school such a tantalizing idea?
Companions.
That's it. Nano wanted friends.
But Hakase was a friend, wasn't she?
No, she wanted friends who were like her. Hakase may have been leagues smarter than any adult, but she was still 8 years old, with childish interests and an attitude to match. Nano was lonely, just as Hakase once was– she needed people to connect with, to befriend, to socialize with like all humans "her age."
At first, the idea terrified Hakase. She was left alone once, she couldn't handle Nano abandoning her. She couldn't go back to those days of solitary games and empty rooms, she needed Nano, needed her to stay at home and fulfill the role that Hakase had created her for.
But Nano was a being of her own. Hakase created her to fill her own loneliness, and in turn, her creation sought friends the way her creator once had. Hakase couldn't keep her locked up forever.
So… she let Nano go.
–
Sometimes, on days that Nano took her on walks to the park or out to grocery shop, Hakase watched the children playing with their parents, and felt an emotion she couldn't name fill her chest.
She watched a father push his daughter on the swings, a son walking hand in hand with his mother, and she felt an infinite hole open up inside her, a deep yearning for the life they lived. She mourned the "normal" life that she had never experienced, and would never get to.
Grieving was a painful thing, and all the more so when you've never known what it is that you've lost.
She envied the children with loving parents, who never appreciated how precious they were. And though Hakase tried to bury the part of herself that wanted it, she often imagined what it would be like to be carried in a father's arms to bed, or rocked to sleep by a mother.
Sometimes the unfairness of it enraged her. Why didn't she have parents? Where were they? Why was she denied a simple life, when all of these other children received it unquestioningly? It wasn't fair.
But then again, she loved the family she had. She wouldn't trade Nano and Sakamoto for anything. She doubted she'd even trade them for her own parents, whoever they were.
She wouldn't trade her family for the world.
Some days she still envied other children, some days she still longed for a taste of that sweet normalcy. But she loved her family as it was. They were enough for her.
Come to think of it, Hakase couldn't find any word that described what Nano was to her.
Her creation, yes. A robot, yes. But she was also a caretaker, a parent, a mother. Though, Hakase was Nano's mother, technically. She created her, birthed her, and that made her as much a mother as anything. So perhaps Nano was more of a sibling, or a friend, who just happened to care for Hakase like a mother did. But she lived with her, so she couldn't be a friend, and they weren't related by blood, so they couldn't be sisters…
Hakase may have been a genius, but words were never her strong suit.
No matter how much she thought about it, she could never find a word to properly describe the relationship they had.
Eventually, she settled on an answer– Nano is Nano. That's all there is to it.