Am I the last seventeen-year-old on Earth without a soulmate?

I checked my smartwatch.

No new notifications.

Blossoming trees swung outside the assembly hall. Wind tickled their branches, making their leaves hop and rhythmically dance. To the right of me, a boy and a girl held hands and giggled at each other.

To the left, another pairing leaned in so close they might as well have tripped over each other’s feet.

Only the breeze kissed my face as my classmates dispersed into the “rest of their lives” as soulmates. Boys held hands with girls, and girls held hands with boys, and boys got into cars with girls all around me.

The principal’s words rang in my head—“spring break is a perfect time to bond with each other and figure out what you want to do with your lives in marriage.”

I shoved my hands into my pockets and sped away from the crowd.

The way back home started with a left turn. When the crosswalk light turned green, I chose to walk forward.

Beneath the warmth of the afternoon sun sat skyscrapers, shielding me from the sun’s glare. I weaved through streets of baggy-eyed adults. By instinct, my legs stopped moving when I reached an alleyway.

Flashing LEDs of bars and clubs plagued the area. The alleyway once stood empty,

desolate, and dark—a perfect sanctuary for boys like me who used to run away from home. A

softer, more tender light had sat there one night. Wanting to know if I could feel it still lingering, I stepped into the alley.

The spot I was looking for was replaced by a brothel. A man stood beside the entrance, aimlessly scrolling through his phone. A couple of androids, with sultry smiles, waved at people passing by.

Four years ago, this was where I found a service android named Raymond—or Ray, as I lovingly called him—sitting against a dumpster. He was an equally abandoned boy.

Ray had looked at me that night with a gaze so vulnerable I would have thought he was human. Even in this filthy alleyway, there was a subtle glimmer in his eyes.

That warm, radiant glow was drowned out by the brothel’s blinding lights. I turned to walk out of the alley. Suddenly, a pair of arms encircled me from the side.

An android smiled at me. I jolted back. Blonde hair fell past her shoulders and onto my

face. Her hardly covered boobs pressed against my shoulder. With her hand snaking up the collar of my shirt, she leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Why don’t you come in and have some fun, handsome?”

The hairs on the back of my neck rose. I ripped away from her grasp so violently I almost fell.

“I’m a minor,” was all I could say.

The android rolled her eyes and backed away. “Your loss, sweetheart.”

The lights around me swirled into an astigmatic nightmare, and I rushed out. World

spinning, neon signs danced behind my eyelids when I blinked. People bumped into me as I stumbled on the sidewalk. I wanted to rip my shirt off and scrub my shoulder raw.

When trees filled my view and downtown loomed behind me, my breathing steadied.

A perfectly manicured lawn spread out in front of a house too big for four people. All the lights were off, and no cars sat on the driveway.

I stepped inside and murmured “Tadaima.”¹ Naturally, there was no response. No shoes in our makeshift genkan.² Only the pitter-patter of my slippers echoed throughout the house.

When I opened the door to my room, my heart jumped to my throat. Someone was sitting on my bed.

A head of brown hair turned, and a familiar glance met my gape. I exhaled. “It’s just you, Ray,” I said. “What are you doing in my room?”

He blinked and tilted his head; his porcelain blue eyes were the only splash of color in this house.

“Hello, Rento. You did not arrive at your usual time of 3:32 P.M.” “Were you worried about me?”

“Service androids are incapable of feeling concern.”

It was a joke of a question, and he knew, offering me a small smile. “Liar,” I replied.

I walked in and stopped in front of my mirror. My shirt was tousled, and its collar stood up. The brothel android’s creepy smile flashed in my face, and I felt the ghost of her hand on the back of my neck. An itch spread down to my shoulders and arms. I shuddered and unbuttoned my deflowered shirt, letting it fall on the carpet.

“Why do I want a soulmate so bad? I can’t even handle it when an android touches me.” “Did you know the average American 17-year-old boy is 5’11?” Ray asked.

“No shit,” I said. “Curse my Japanese genes, huh.”

“And the average North American citizen is assigned a soulmate by age sixteen.” “Shocker.”

I turned from the mirror to look at Ray. “What’s the point in telling me all this?”

“I am highlighting distinctive traits of yours. Studies from the past decade have shown humans desire ‘individuality’ in partners.”

“Girls don’t like guys who are short loners. I would’ve had a soulmate by now if they did. The algorithm’s probably doing backflips to find one person for me.”

When Ray didn’t reply, I bit my lip and looked away. How was he supposed to respond to my misery?

“I’m sorry, Ray. I had a rough day.”

The sounds of his mechanical whirring sped up. Feet shuffled, moved closer, and Ray stood before me, blocking the mirror.

“You were at the red-light district after school,” Ray said. He tracked me. So he was worried.

When his cold finger landed on my collarbone and slowly traced it downward, I flinched, but didn’t pull away.

“I assume your discomfort came from an invasive interaction. Did a touch from a familiar individual disarm you?”

“You’re freezing,” I whispered. Ray moved back.

I reached out toward him but gripped the air instead. “Hey, it’s okay,” I said, “It’s alright if you touch me.”

His pretty glass eyes carried more emotion than any other human when he looked at me.

“You were trying to make me feel better, weren’t you?” I sighed and lightly ruffled his hair. “Good boy.”

A tiny pout tugged on his plump lips. I paused. “Ray.”

“Yes, Rento?”

“What’s the chance of never being assigned a soulmate?”

“Calculating the data of human deaths from the past three decades, the chance of dying without a soulmate assignment is 0.00004%.”

I took another step closer. He didn’t move back. Certain words hung in my throat.

Ray blinked. It was a blink programmed into him. He didn’t breathe and he didn’t have a heartbeat, but he had a gentle spinning sound like a computer running in him, and sometimes,

like when he first saw me in that alleyway, it ran as if he really were alive.

“Have you ever heard that saying… eyes are a window to a person’s soul?”

Ray nodded. He didn’t give me a typical Ray-like answer where he told me where that saying came from and what it meant. For once, he seemed to be at a loss for words.

“I can’t tell what you’re thinking. So, maybe it’s stupid to ask, but… do androids have

souls?”

Again, he didn’t say anything. He wasn’t stupid. I knew that much. My heart pounded in

my ears so loudly I couldn’t tell if his “heart” was racing too. After a moment, he spoke. “Service androids were not created with the intent to love or perform intimate acts.” I smiled. It hurt, but I smiled.

“Is hugging too intimate?”

“Nonsexual displays of affection…” Ray’s voice was barely above a whisper, or maybe I just imagined that with the pulsing in my head, “are okay with me.”

My hands wavered in the air for a moment, unsure where to land. I couldn’t remember the last time I wrapped my arms around someone. My parents weren’t the affectionate type.

Nonsexual displays of affection are okay with me…

That was the first time Ray had ever expressed that anything was ‘okay.’ Service androids were meant to be helpers and not lovers, but I would be damned if I missed out on an opportunity to touch him.

I laced myself around him, resting my head on his shoulder. His heavy arms weaved around my waist, and he followed my example by burying his face in the nape of my neck. I closed my eyes, shutting out the world, and I let Ray’s reverberating hum take me over.

Mom and Dad had thought I was insane when they eventually came home that night four years ago and found a dirty, disheveled android in their pristine living room. But something in my expression must have told them that it would have been a cruel decision to throw Ray away.

If I had known that it felt this good to hold someone back then, I would have hugged him that night and every night since.

My watch vibrated.

In the small slit of an opened eye, I saw the word “SOUL” on the screen before it faded away.

“Rento, you have just received a notification about your—” “Shhh…”

Ray didn’t answer me with a yes or no, saying whether androids had souls. I didn’t ask

again. I didn’t want to ask anymore.

I let my bare torso fully mesh into Ray’s, the buttons of his shirt pressing into my chest.

His arms tightened around me, and that was a good enough answer.

Maneuvering in his embrace, I unclasped my watch and let it fall.