Do you remember the first memory of your life? No, of course, you don’t. Nobody remembered the moment they were born. You were simply a baby, a vulnerable and dependent being that couldn’t even raise its own head. It took years before you could finally forge a memory, and if lucky, you could perhaps recall it now in your adult years.

The first memory of my life was seeing you standing in front of me. I first noticed those strands of brown hair ending right above your eyebrow tail. Your piercing brown eyes were dissecting me from head to toe through your glasses. Unlike everyone else in the store, you were dressed in a pristine navy suit. A big silver watch hung from your wrist. Your black shoes shone so brightly I could distinguish my reflection. You stood there proud and tall despite being just average height.

“Are you pleased with the face structure? If you have any changes, it can be done by tomorrow,” said the clerk.

You squinted your eyes at me, looking at every corner of my face. “No, that won’t be necessary.”

Watching television shows, I later learned that human babies would hear their names for the first time while being held in their mother’s arms. Maybe the father was also there, holding the mother. They would look at the baby lovingly and be amazed that such a tiny creature had been created by them. And in a dreamy voice, they would say the chosen name. For us, it was quite different.

“Okay,” the clerk said. He looked at his tablet, ready to tap something. “Have you decided a name?”

“Lay.”

And like that, my mind registered which name I would go by. It was an unusual name. Not many beings were named that in these tracts.

There was some paperwork to fill in, insurance, and what else you would need to own me. The whole time you didn’t meet my gaze. You didn’t say or ask me to do anything.

Standing in front of your car, you didn’t even allow me to open the door for you.

“Unless requested, I can do things myself.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“My name is Junmyeon. Never call me that again,” you said in a commanding tone. I registered you were displeased.

“I understand, Junmyeon.”

And those were my first words ever, unlike yours. In one of your drunken moments, I had asked, and you had answered that your first word had been “no.”

 

---

 

It was strange. I could never seem to understand you. Even after months of being in your care, I still couldn’t seem to make accurate predictions of you. When I thought you’d go left, you turned right? When I thought you’d be angry, you just sighed? You were as unexpected as a winter breeze in the middle of summer.

There was indeed something strange about your ownership. Most of the companion androids I talked to didn’t appreciate their human owners. You didn’t tell me to make myself invisible and remain in one corner of the house as a living space. You gave me my own room with my own belongings and clothes I had chosen myself. You didn’t insult, curse, or swear at me; you spoke with courtesy and respect. You didn’t force me to do chores day and night. You didn’t use me as your punching bag because of whatever human frustrations you were feeling. And you always called me by my name, not “you [insert cuss word], machine.” Of course, not all humans were like this. Children would often pose a much fairer owner than their adult counterparts.

You walked with me on the sidewalks made for androids whenever we had errands to take care of outside. You kept me company in the areas designated to androids because nobody cared that a human blended in among the androids, unlike the opposite. And despite me having to do the usual household chores, you also said that I was meant to have “time for myself” during the day.

The first time you told me this, I stood in the living room and stared at nothing for three hours because what was I meant to do? Until you had come out of your office and asked me what I was doing. Angrily, you took the remote control and the tv. You grabbed one book from the shelf and threw it on the couch. You took a laptop and put it in my arms.

“Read! Watch something! Browse the internet! Do whatever you want, just don’t stand there like some furniture.”

After that, I mused myself on different tasks. Of course, outdoor activities were not an option without you being there to supervise me. So, everything had to be indoors and by myself. Technically androids were not allowed to browse the internet unsupervised, but I tried online chest. Just as the A.I., I could also memorize the plays, and it got boring quite quickly. I tried to read, but many things felt foreign, and I couldn’t relate to the characters’ actions. The same could be said about me watching movies and series. Perhaps when androids can finally publish their artwork, I could have something to look forward to. Although it did fascinate me to see the earlier depictions of robots in human media. Many things were quite different, but some remained the same, the lack of freedom, for example.

Eventually, I tried to mirror your interests. I didn’t know much because you were often in your office or in your room, and I seldom spent time with you despite us living together. But sometimes, I would hear a beautiful melody being played from the music room. You liked to play music, and the fine tunes of the piano were my favorite.

I hadn’t been programmed with any artistic skills. My piano skills would be as good as any human. So, after being done with my morning chores, I would walk into the music room. The room with two large windows facing the garden and instruments scattered around, and a black piano in the corner.

I would sit there for hours. Trying to remember the melodies you played so I could play them myself. Usually, I would leave the music room before you returned from work. But one day, I was so immersed in playing, over and over because I was sure that I had finally nailed the melody you seem to like to love so much that I forgot to leave.

The doors flew open, and I looked up to meet your gaze. You were panting, holding the door handle as if your life depended on it. I could almost see the faint traces of a smile on your lips. Then, you looked around, and the hopeful glint in your eyes dissipated until only nothingness remained.  

“I’m sorry,” I said. I didn’t know if I was allowed in here. You had said I could do anything I wanted, but even I knew that some things were off-limits. Snooping in your office or your bedroom for one. The music room was unclear, you hadn’t mentioned anything about it, and I hadn’t asked you. Perhaps this would be the first time you would leash out on me, and I would finally experience the human wrath other androids were subjected to.

“It’s okay, Lay,” you said.

You closed the door, and I heard your footsteps walking towards your room.

I kept playing the piano and learned to play the guitar, the violin, and all the other instruments you had bought. I came to enjoy my free time, and I finally came to love doing something. I imagined myself one day playing in front of an audience, captivating them. Of course, it would never come true.

I no longer even minded that I was all by myself most of the time. Until there was the day where you walked into the room as I was playing the guitar. You put a hand on top of the piano and closed your eyes. I could only guess you remembered something; perhaps it was someone. After a deep breath, you took a seat on the piano stool and began playing the earlier melody I had been performing. I decided to join you. And for a few minutes, we lost ourselves in the music.

It was strange but not unwelcomed.

 

---

 

I rarely saw you smile, which made me always wonder if you were ever happy. Other humans seem to always smile, but those humans were often part of a family, had children, a pet, and an android that took care of them.

You had only me. I couldn’t find traces of anyone important else in your life. Of course, you did have a social life. Sometimes people, your friends or colleagues, would visit the house for a moment. I was surprised to learn that all of them also seemed to treat me with bare minimum respect. I was always Lay. I was always thanked whenever I did something for them. They liked to sit around the piano and listen to me play. Maybe I had said never too soon.

I wouldn’t have expected something else; I knew that the company you decided to surround yourself with wouldn’t be like everyone else.

Eventually, I learned that there had been someone. Every year, there came a day when you didn’t go to work. When everything stopped, and you stayed at home, locked in your room. Sometimes you would go out to the garden and sit on the grass under the setting sun. Your face would be flushed, and your eyes would have traces of falling tears.

Yixing had been his name, you mentioned to me once.

It was always on this day of the year that you’d allowed me to see you vulnerable, that your walls would break and reveal the broken pieces you tried to hold tight. You would answer whatever question I asked. The other days of the year, I rarely saw you drinking like today.

Of course, you explained it to me. Yixing had been your husband of ten years. It was the usual tale of meeting the love of your life by chance. One of his dimpled smiles, and you were head over heels for him. Then there had come a life filled with moments you treasured: the many firsts, the anniversaries, the personal and professional accomplishments, the birthdays, and the days were you did nothing together. He had loved to play the piano, and the music room had been his idea.

As you talked, you smiled fondly. I realized that remembering Yixing was the only thing that genuinely brought you happiness. I could have listened to you speak for hours, even if it hurt.

And then you reached that part, the day that Yixing died.

Nobody would ever be prepared for the sudden death of another being. You knew that humans were aware of their immortality, and death was a part of everyday life. How many have not succumbed to wars, hunger, and sickness in one day? But that was the thing. Those were numbers. Like the numbers announcing the stock market rates or the weather. It wasn’t until it hit you that you became aware of how fragile human life is.

One moment, Yixing had given you a goodbye kiss, telling you that he would bring mapo tofu for dinner. The next moment, you watched him being hooked to wires and machines that kept his body alive because he would never wake up again, and if he ever did, he would never be Yixing again.

There was something cruel about the universe taking Yixing away from you on the exact same date you had met him. Or maybe it was just a gross coincidence.

Regardless, it was on this day that you allowed yourself to fully miss him.

I couldn’t know if that was the smartest way to deal with grief, but the following day you would go on with your life as if nothing ever bothered you. As if you didn’t curse each day, you woke up to realize he was no longer here.

I knew you missed him, and it wasn’t until very long that I realized why it bothered me so much.

 

---

 

Some humans believed that one would meet their creator in the afterlife, only to be judged based on every action one had committed. It was their purpose in life to live as their creator had said. Others believed no deity had created them; they simply came through life as all life in the universe had done by chance. There was no ultimate purpose in life or an afterlife to look forward to; there was only now.

Obviously, it was believed that androids did not have to face these existential questions like humans did. We were created for one purpose. Sure, careers had been assigned to us at birth: companions, caretakers, ual workers, and the sort. But in all instances, we were to abide by humans. We were nothing. We had nothing.

There were, of course, those humans that opposed this treatment of us. Many were tired of how disposable, and insignificant androids had become. The movement grew over the years, gaining a following ready to fight for us. I always believed you were part of them, even if you never disclosed it to me.

And I could finally confirm my suspicion on the day we never believed would come.

“Freedom has won!”

“When will the terror strike?”

The dichotomy of the headlines spreading all over the internet and being debated on television was laughable. For decades, everyone had been splintered, not really knowing if giving androids rights would be the start of a new era or the doom of the current one. If only they knew most androids didn’t really care about taking over their world, we would be much happier rejoicing in freedom than thinking of war.

I was giddy, although a bit afraid of what may happen to me.

Then, I saw your face on television. As the years go by, the human body adapts to the changes, unlike us androids, who remained the same as the day we were born. Fine lines and wrinkles had appeared on your face. There was a trace of white among the black hairs. You no longer have the strength to train your body as you had before. But compared to others, you were aging fine. I liked the old version of you just as much as the younger one.

I heard you talk about how many years of work had been put into passing this legislation. I saw you smile genuinely while answering all the questions the reporters threw at you.

You had been part of the team that freed us. You had been out there, fighting for us, for me. It was strange. In all the years we had known each other, you never really mentioned what you worked with. And I was never curious enough to find out. I only knew that you and Yixing had used to work together.

I did not know how to repay you, but I figured cooking your favorite dish would be a good start.

We spoke a lot that night. You told the whole story of everything it took to get here, and I listened gladly to every word you said, even if the story had begun with Yixing. As much as I wanted to hate Yixing, I never had any good reasons to do so. He had been a wonderful person. I’m sure his name would have passed onto history as the compassionate leader of the movement had he still been alive. You preferred to work in the shadows.

“You’re free,” you said, at last, smiling contently. “The world is yours to explore, Lay.”

Most androids had looked forward to this day. They would have grasped it without looking back. I think you believed I would too.

“I want to stay,” I said.

“Why? Why would you like to stay here? You’re free to go. I can take care of myself, you know. You could leave this forsaken country for someplace with a better quality of life. You may have freedom now, but we both know that it will take years before true equality is achieved.”

The Nordic countries had actually been the firsts to achieve harmony between androids and humans. They had been the primary example of the freedom movement. I could have left. I could have my true audience way out there.

And yet, I didn’t want to. I had never wanted to be free. I had always been it.

Confessions often meant sweat oozing, fast heartbeats, and their minds playing all possible scenarios for most humans. For us androids, it was more straightforward.

“Because I love you.”

Somehow you didn’t seem surprised, only worried.

“Well, you shouldn’t love me, Lay.”

“Why?”

“Because humans can be blinded by selfishness, especially when there is love involved.”

I had always believed you were flawless. A righteous human among the corrupt ones. So, hearing you explained yourself was out of place.

Yixing had been braindead in his final moments, but his organs could save other humans in critical conditions. When you guys were in college, Yixing would often share his portion of rice with others even if it meant he’d go hungry, you had mentioned once. Of course, he would have loved to help. You signed off the documents. All the organs had been put to good use, except for one.

You wanted to keep his heart, even if it meant it would go to me. Even if it went against everything you two had believed in because you knew Yixing would never approve of owning an android, his fight had always been to recall that ownership. Also, it was such an irrational thought. But it was simpler to keep an android close than force the human who would have gotten his heart.

It was strange. I had never seen you in this light. And I couldn’t help but wonder.

“How were you allowed to do that?”

Usually, an organ inside an android was meant to be used for temporal storage. Scientists wanted to discover if lab-grown organs could work as well as the real ones. Or we were used for safekeeping until a human was stable enough for the transplant. It was unheard of a companion android carrying a human organ. Then again, it seems I had never been an actual companion android.

“Money and power will always get you far, no matter what you desire.”

Some things would transcend even in the most advanced times.

“I’m sorry,” you said, your gaze lost deep in thought.

Whether you were saying sorry to Yixing or me, I didn’t know, but I did know you didn’t love. I had always been aware of it. Time had taught me that you would always yearn for him. I hadn’t expected that anything would change after my confession. For you, I hoped there was an afterlife where you two would meet again and be happy.

“You’re still free to go. Keeping you by my side all these years, knowing that a part of Yixing was still alive inside of you, motivated me to not give up. The fight is done for now, and my time will come eventually. I’m thankful for your company, Lay, but you can go.”

I could. And yet, I chose not to.

“I still want to stay, but I hope you can grant me one thing.”

You were not shocked to hear my request. If anything, it seemed you understood. And how could you not? We had had the same reasoning.

 

---

 

Of course, I had mourned your death. I had wanted you to stay a little bit longer, but 90 years were far too many. It had been a long time without the man you loved. You were ready. You put everything into motion.

During the last moments of your life, you once again reminded me that it wouldn’t be the same. Sure, it had given you some solace, but it had never been the same as being with him. And perhaps that may be true, but I would be happy knowing that a part of you was left behind in this world for me to love.

Your inheritance was passed onto me. The house, the assets, everything was mine. We were set for eternity if we chose to live that long. I hadn’t been surprised you did this. You figured it was the least you could do for me after all this time. I was thankful for everything, but most especially for you fulfilling my request.

He had blond hair and blue eyes. The face structure reminded me of yours, only faintly, like how I somewhat resembled Yixing. When the sales clerk mentioned to me what you had named him, I suddenly seemed to understand. There was this tale of two souls finding each other through time and space no matter what. Hadn’t that been one of Yixing’s favorite books?

He blinked and looked around, standing just like I had done during my birth. And I wanted that the first thing he remembered was me smiling at him, welcoming him to the world.

“Hi, Suho.”

 

-

Just a lil something I wrote for a Spanish sulay fest~ 

Stay safe!