100% MATCH [✅] (ZhanYi)

|~ 2

It's starting again!

"Sir, are you okay?" Sean asks me in panic.

Through gritted teeth, I reply, "I'm fine, Sean."

I roll the sleeve of my jacket to see the pale pink line on my wrist is glowing red. Again. Six months after I have turned eighteen, the glow and the pain have been bothering me once a month. But since the start of February, it becomes rapid, for it comes almost every day. Each time the pain is getting more intense. Today is even worse than yesterday.

"What do you want again?!" I snap. The pain has subsided, but my anger isn't.

Ring, ring.

"Sir, you have an incoming call from your brother," Sean informs after the second ring. "Would you like me to answer in your stead?

"Is it a video call?"

"No, sir."

"Then put me through."

"Right away, sir."

The ringing sound stops, replaced by my brother's voice. "Yibo."

I try to steady my labored breaths before answering, so my brother won't notice anything. "Brother."

There is a brief silence at his end before he sighs. "It happens again?"

And this time, I sigh. Fail again, I think to myself. I am curious as to how my brother can see through me every single time. "Yes."

"I think it's time you should let it lead you."

My brother has told me that when the head of the line is glowing, it shows that we will meet our match -a new term for a partner- on that very day. It was true. I was there when he met his wife. He met her on the very first day it glowed. But when it comes to me, it doesn't work that way at all.

"I'll try."

"How's the pain?"

"It's gone now."

"Good. If anything, give me a call. I'll be there."

"It's okay, brother. I have Sean. But thank you."

The call is disconnected, and I lift myself from the floor. "Sean, open the garage."

"Sir, I can give you a ride."

"Is my condition showing unfit in your system?"

"No, sir."

"Then, I can drive myself."

"Of course, sir," his voice sounds down. I somehow regret my tone, but I am really in a bad mood now.

My garage door slides down to reveal a glass-made scalene triangle aircraft and a green with a white striped motorcycle. That's right. In Zanie, we don't use cars anymore. Everyone -girls especially- is driving an aircraft of different shapes. Guys, on the other hand, prefers riding motorcycles. I pick the green helmet to match with my shirt and hop on before giving a command. The engine roars to life with its headlight on and floated forty inches from the ground.

"Sean, lock the door and set the alarming system on," I shout on my way out without bothering to turn back to look. I have always trusted him with every job.

I release my clutch to slow down as the light is turning yellow. Once red hits, a thin barrier sprawl in linear line over the road, invented specially for those who like to run a red light. While waiting for the green light, I turn to the sidewalk to see a man standing a few feet away from a woman standing outside a wedding dress shop. Both of them are looking at their wrists in awe. I follow their gazes and realize that they, too, have their wrists' lines glowing. But unlike mine, the glowing blinks profusely just like a ticking time bomb waiting to go off.

The man takes a step forwards, and so does the woman. When they are within reach, they extended their left hands to exchange a handshake. The moment their fleshes come into contact, the glowing lights burst out, and suddenly, a big number appears in between the gaps of their bodies.

91%

Wide smiles spread on their faces as they lock gazes.

"How about getting married today?"

The woman giggles shyly. "Sure."

Hand in hand, they walk inside the wedding dress shop.

I sigh. These days the married between people aren't out of love. They are purely out of the scientific results. You can only get married when the connection between the two of you is fifty-one percent and above, whether you harbor feeling towards each other or not. And if your match is less than fifty percent, then sorry, you won't be allowed to get married. That's the rule.

Some people are lucky that their matches are their loved ones, but some aren't that lucky. If they still believe in their own hearts and resist the system, then they'll have to elope. And to those who dare to choose this path, we have never heard from them again, for they are banished right afterward. They are stripped of everything that holds them as lawful citizens here and never again can enter Zanie.

But of course, you are allowed to date and more as long it is legal non-related. However, the date-for-love thing only appeals to those hotblooded teenagers. But on the day that strikes you fully eighteen, that idea disappears. It is either because we are designed this way or because we come to realize what kind of world we are living in. After all, the idea of the follow-your-heart thing can never give an accurate result. No one wants to walk on a path full of uncertainty when precision exists, right?

What happens if you can't find your match? Well, sorry to convey it to you that be prepared to live your life forever alone. But that has never been the case. Everyone got someone. Even I do. I just never care to search for him.

One thing I have always wondered is why no one ever gets a one hundred percent match? Ever since this system is developed, the highest record that has ever been achieved is ninety-eight percent. And there was just one couple only—my brother's. My parents, on the other hand, only got a ninety-percent match when they got married.

Honk, Honk.

The sound of the aircraft honking behind me brings my attention back to the road. I turn to see the light is green, and the barrier is gone.

"Hey, you. Move. Or I'll fly over your head." The voice of an angry woman echoes through the speakers.

I click my tongue in annoyance—city life. I accelerate and drive away from the area with no destination set. But then, it occurs to me. Since I'll be driving aimlessly anyway, why not make the trip worthwhile?

"Sean, put the destination on the screen," I say.

"What are you referring to, sir?"

"I want the location that the system gives us this morning. The place where my match is."

"Much obliged, sir." Sean sounds enthusiastic all of a sudden.

The route is put up on the right corner of my helmet's screen. With no further delay, I make a U-turn and head to where the GPS is showing me. Unlike the first five times, this time, I decided to heed my brother's advice as I ride on full speed toward the outskirt of the city.