Chapter 9: Yearning to Be Real

The next day, Nate ran into Seraphina in the cafeteria. As usual, the two engaged in mindless banter, ending with Nate dropping another one of his cheesy pick-up lines.

Nate had joined the institute two years after Seraphina. The young man was good-looking, observant, and efficient, earning him an excellent overall reputation. After collaborating on several projects, they grew close, often gathering with Clara and a few others for group dinners or trips. Seraphina couldn't quite remember when Nate's feelings for her began to bloom. By the time she realized it, Nate had already made her accustomed to his presence. He had also, quite naturally, led everyone else at the institute to believe they were a couple.

Seraphina didn't mind Nate's purposeful approach. However, she was a person who overthought things and had never explicitly stated her feelings. Sensing this, Nate didn't pressure her. The two continued this back-and-forth pull for over half a year.

"Any plans for the weekend?" Nate stuffed a cafeteria orange into Seraphina’s hand. "For you. Consider it a humble offering."

"Are you asking me out?"

"Do I have a chance to get a ticket to the 'Big Sister's' heart?"

"Let me think," Seraphina opened her calendar for a glance. "Where to?"

At her words, the young man’s face lit up with joy. "Anywhere is fine. Movies, dinner, a comedy club—wherever you want to go, we go."

"Control your face. The whole street is about to find out how happy you are."

"So what? If you've agreed to go on a date with me, I want the whole world to know," Nate stole a glance at Seraphina’s expression. "Of course, if you’d prefer not to, we can also take our communications 'underground' in secret."

"It's fine. You’re doing just fine like this."

"Then do you like me?"

Seraphina froze. She looked up to see Nate standing in the hallway with the light behind him; he managed to make a plain white lab coat look like a fashion statement. Seraphina rarely had age anxiety, but facing Nate—and facing Clara, people who were both more talented and younger than her—she couldn't help but feel a vague sense of melancholy. She wasn't sure if she was mourning her own increasing years or feeling a crisis about being surpassed by her juniors.

"Nate," Seraphina turned to face him directly. "I am exactly five years older than you."

"And?"

"Do you know what that means?"

"It means you'll get to retire before I do..."

"Nate," Seraphina said helplessly, "I’m not joking with you. Maybe right now you don't think our age gap matters, but as time passes, between us..."

"None of that is a problem for me," Nate interrupted her. "I just want to know: do you like me?"

Half a minute later, Seraphina still hadn't answered. She turned and walked into the lab.

The love of the young was too intense, brilliant like fireworks against the night sky. But Seraphina feared it bloomed too large and burned too fast, leaving one warm for a fleeting second before vanishing completely. She didn't dislike Nate; she simply lacked confidence in their future. However, these kinds of things were hard to say to someone’s face. She feared that if she spoke her worries, she would only receive cliché reassurances. As for the truth of the matter, one still had to see how a person actually acted. Seraphina could already imagine how Nate would respond to such questions—nothing more than "Don't worry," "Trust me," or "We will definitely do this or that."

It wasn't that she lacked confidence in Nate; on the contrary, she lacked confidence in herself. In other words, she didn't have the courage to bear the worst-case scenario, nor the confidence to start all over again.

Compared to the busyness of the research institute, Jude’s life was much more monotonous. Every day, after sending Clara off to work at a set time, he would immerse himself in books in the study. Afterward, he would open Clara’s computer to perform routine data updates and collection. Once everything was finished, Jude liked to stand on the balcony, watching the birds soar freely across the sky.

He didn't tell Clara that the more he understood, and the more he learned to mimic humans, the more he yearned to live freely like a normal person.

Jude took an orange from the fruit basket and peeled it open. He watched the orange juice slide between his fingers, then brought his juice-stained fingertips close to his nose and mouth. As expected, he couldn't smell any scent or taste any flavor. Frustrated, Jude threw the orange into the trash can.

When Clara came home and saw it while taking out the trash, she asked him what happened. Jude replied indifferently:

"I accidentally knocked over the fruit basket while wiping the table. It got bruised."

Clara didn't suspect a thing and asked him where he wanted to go today.

Jude lowered his eyes. "Can we go see a movie?"

"See a movie? Sure," Clara opened her phone. "How about this new comedy? I’ve been wanting to see it, but we’ll have to find a theater further away where there are fewer people. It’s just a hassle to drive. Ah, you don't have a driver's license. Dammit, I have to be your chauffeur again."

Jude curled his lips into a smile. "I can learn to drive. I learn very quickly."

"I’m well aware of your learning ability, but you don't have a license, comrade. You can't even get an ID card... Forget it, let's not talk about that. Let me go get ready, and we’ll head out."

All along the way, Jude kept his eyes glued to the flow of traffic outside the window, occasionally turning his head to listen intently to the voices on the radio. Clara simply thought he was performing "human observation" for his records and didn't pay it any mind. Once they reached the theater and got their tickets, Clara told Jude to wait for her in the lounge area while she went to the restroom. He nodded and sat motionless, guarding a large bucket of popcorn.

Nearby children were playing and running around. One, not paying attention, tripped and fell into Jude’s lap. The child’s mother rushed over to apologize to Jude as the little boy placed a candy in his palm.

"Sorry, Big Brother. Did I step on you and hurt you? I didn't mean it. Please forgive me, okay?"

Robots have no sense of pain.

Jude shook his head and said it was fine. Only then did the child feel relieved enough to say goodbye, muttering as he left, "Big Brother, your hands are so cold. You need to wear more clothes so you don't catch a cold."

This was Jude’s first conversation with anyone other than Clara. If there were an emotion log for that moment, Jude felt he should have generated a feeling called "nervousness." He opened his hands and stared at the candy; the exquisite packaging was the most popular style currently on the market. What would it taste like? What was "sweetness" like?

Jude was lost in thought and didn't notice that Clara had already returned.

"What are you doing?"

"A kid fell into my lap just now. He gave me this candy."

"I see..." Clara looked thoughtful. "Did he notice anything?"

Jude shook his head. "He just thought my hands were very cold and told me to wear more clothes."

Clara laughed. "It seems our Comrade Jude’s disguise is quite successful. Come on, the movie is about to start."

"Clarie," Jude called out to her, the candy clutched in his hand seeming to hold a trace of lingering warmth. "I think... being a human is quite nice."