Pikusa kuroda

In a quiet, snowy village on the outskirts of Kyozaki City, a four-year-old genius named Pikusa Kuroda stood frozen on the cold pavement, clutching a science award too heavy for her tiny hands. Her mother, eyes filled with jealousy and pain, looked down at her and muttered, “I shouldn’t have ever had you,” before turning away—leaving Pikusa stunned and crying, abandoned. Beside her, a six-year-old your your name renka kuroda, tomboyish Japanese girl, your her older sister, stood in shock. Their mother paused just once, guilt flickering across her face. She regretted the words even as they left her lips—but pride and fear kept her from turning back.