Yukai Engineering and Mirumi: Designing Emotion Into Technology

by Vera Von Monika

There is a quiet rebellion underway in Japanese robotics, one that resists efficiency, productivity, and spectacle in favor of something far more radical: feeling. Yukai Engineering stands at the center of this movement, not as a manufacturer of machines, but as a designer of emotional encounters.

Founded in 2007 and formally incorporated in 2011 in Tokyo by Shunsuke Aoki, Yukai Engineering emerged with a philosophy that runs counter to much of contemporary tech culture. Their stated mission - to make the world more enjoyable through robotics - is not a slogan but a design constraint. At Yukai, technology is not meant to optimize life. It is meant to soften it.

Rather than building robots that do, Yukai builds robots that respond. They observe. They react. They invite interaction without demanding it. This approach places Yukai closer to cultural design than engineering in the conventional sense, a studio where robotics intersects with psychology, play, and human vulnerability.

The company is best known for creating what it describes as “emotional robots”, objects that engage users through subtle gestures rather than commands. Qoobo, a cushion with a gently wagging tail, offers comfort without anthropomorphism or speech. BOCCO emo facilitates family communication through warmth rather than surveillance. Amagami HAM HAM, playfully mimicking a soft bite, transforms sensation into a moment of childlike surprise. Nekojita FuFu, recognized by TIME as one of the Best Inventions of 2025, perches on the rim of a mug to gently cool hot drinks, turning a mundane action into a shared, quiet interaction. None of these products attempt to replace human connection. Instead, they acknowledge its absence, and sit quietly beside it.

This philosophy finds its most distilled expression in Mirumi, Yukai Engineering’s latest companion robot, introduced internationally in 2025. Mirumi does not speak. It does not instruct. It does not perform tasks. Instead, it reacts to the world with something resembling shyness. When someone approaches, it turns its head. When startled, it looks away. Its movements are minimal, almost hesitant, gestures borrowed not from machines, but from infants.

Mirumi’s power lies precisely in what it refuses to do. It does not demand attention - it earns it. In public settings, it provokes curiosity, soft smiles, and brief moments of shared recognition between strangers. These responses are not incidental. They are designed. Yukai understands that emotional connection does not require complexity - only attentiveness.

Mirumi’s international introduction was accompanied by a Kickstarter campaign, positioning the robot not as a finalized consumer product, but as a shared experiment in emotional design. Crowdfunding here functions less as a commercial push than as an invitation, an opportunity for a global audience to participate in the life of an object whose value lies in affect rather than utility. The choice of Kickstarter aligns with Yukai’s broader ethos: openness, play, and emotional resonance over scale or urgency.

What makes Yukai Engineering culturally significant is not novelty, but restraint. Their robots operate in the negative space of technology, where silence, pause, and subtle motion carry meaning. In a world saturated with screens, alerts, and algorithmic urgency, Yukai’s work feels almost analog in its emotional pacing. Interaction unfolds slowly. Trust is built through repetition. Meaning emerges through presence.

This sensibility is distinctly Japanese, rooted in aesthetic traditions that value ma - the space between actions - and regard understatement as strength. Even as Yukai’s products gain international attention and global circulation, they resist flattening themselves for easy consumption. They do not explain their emotional logic. They invite you to experience it.

At its core, Yukai Engineering is asking a question most technology avoids: What if machines were not tools, but companions in vulnerability? What if robotics did not aim to replace human labor, but to mirror human fragility: curiosity, hesitation, the desire to be seen without being exposed?

In this sense, Yukai’s work is not futuristic. It is deeply human. Their robots do not point forward toward progress, they turn inward, toward sensation, memory, and emotional nuance. They remind us that technology does not have to dominate our lives to be meaningful. Sometimes, it only needs to sit quietly beside us… and look back.

Author’s Note

This feature examines Yukai Engineering through the lens of cultural design and emotional technology, focusing on how robotics can function as an extension of human sensitivity rather than utility.