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Left, Right, Left, Right, Left, Right. Stop. Turn. Face forward to the screen. Look at it unwavering. No emotion. Listen. Cheer. Stay still until screen turns off. Turn back. Left, Right, Left, Right, Left, Ri-

Achoo!

Freeze and turn. The person beside you sneezed. Everyone is staring now and you get that lump in the bottom of your stomach again. You know what's going to come next. You know they are going to take him away. There is nothing you can do. Nothing anyone can do.

The guards move forward to the man, the man starts to cry.

"Please. Please. No. I'm sorry. It was an accident. Just the flu. Please I promise it won't happen again. I'm getting better. Please."

The guard reaches out to grab him and time seems to slow. The man before you is your best friend. You've known him since childhood. He's the only one you can confide in, the only one you can talk to about your problems. The only one who understands. He looks at you pleadingly. Your heart clenches and suddenly, subconsciously, you turn and punch the guard in the jaw. You then, without thinking, grab his hand and run as quickly as possible away from that area and into a nearby alley. Twisting and turning, you keep running over and over before finally ducking into a house and turning. Your friend is standing there, shocked. He doesn't know what to do, what to make of this. The two of you are bound to be caught, you're sure. You're bound to be sent off far away, and either retrained or killed. It's going to happen. You're sure of it.

Shaking in your boots, you stare at your friend, just taking it all in, when suddenly you feel yourself get pulled forward into a kiss.

"I love you. I love you and I'm sorry. I-I never wanted this to happen, not to you. Just know forever though. I lo-"

He's suddenly cut off as a gunshot goes off and a bullet whizzes through his head, blood spitting out all over you. You catch him as he falls into you and hold him close for a moment, trying to remember that warmth for just a few seconds more before being yanked away and dragged off.

---

Hours later you awake in a dark room, a calming voice speaking over a set of speakers. It's a voice your used to, a voice that you hear in your day to day life. It's your mother. Or, well, the mechanical voice you've been told to call mother. She's the computer model that helps lead your life at home, dresses you, takes care of. Now though, her words are alittle less helpful and more disheartening. To you she repeats your sentence in that soothing voice, a voice that rather than panics you, helps you keep your calm, the calm required in all situations by humans these days.

Over and over she says, " Crime: Stepping out of line on the way to Brother, Disturbing a sentence, Murder. Sentence: Institution in Sans Espoir until properly rehabilitated or until rehabilitation is found impossible."

At the words, you calm. Rehabilitation is not ideal, but it was better than what could have been sentenced and ideally it meant you could go home and back to work sooner, through which you could try to forget. You didn't want to forget your friend, no your lover... but what choice did you have other than this..

Later you are escorted out to a train, handcuffed to a suspicious looking man, who looks back from time to time. And who smiles and smirks unlike anything you've seen for quite some time. He holds no fear of showing emotion, that much is clear. In fact, he seems to almost taunt you with how much emotion he shows. It's something meant to be suppressed you know, especially in public... The man annoys you with his complete disregard for the rules, the laws, and social norms, but you keep your mouth zipped and gaze ahead. You want no trouble.. none at all.

Little do you know how much this man is about to bring you.

Setting

*A dystopian future similar to 1984 or PsychoPass.

*You are near constantly being observed in day-to-day life to make sure you are acting in accordance to the laws.

*Emotion in public is deeply frowned upon and reserved for home, even then though it tends to be limited.

*Every day you must go to listen to Brother speak, moving in a line perfectly silently and listening without any words but cheers at the end.

*You are not to stray from the job assigned to you.

*The homes are nice but all the same.

Tapping the arm rest, the man grinned and hummeda bit of a song, the chords to which, well, Chaldene wouldn't recognize them. No it was a tune long forgotten; a tune thought to be destroyed long ago, but that still lingered among some. It was nice and smooth, like jazz, though no one would recognize such a title as that. No the only songs ever heard nowadays were classical, elevator tunes, or patriotic songs. Nothing like this. It was beautiful, melodic, especially hummed by the brassy voiced man beside him. Lovely really. The guards seemed a bit bothered by it, but they left him be, as for the most part it was easier to avoiding than the panicking individuals elsewhere or the trouble makers. Chaldene didn't know it, but he was one of the few 'normal' people on this train. No, many others had some sort of mental disorder, like schizophrenia and ADD. Then again homosexuality was a mental disorder now and then the fact he'd shoved and injured a guard, well, it just meant he belonged here with the rest of the loons.

The man next to him though, he didn't seem crazy. Sure his hair was a bit odd, but his clothes, well, he'd obviously shown no struggle to change into rehabilitation clothes like other's had. But then again that smile of his, it seemed so unnaturally pleasant and that tune...

The dark eyes of the man shifted back some as he watched the guards in the place move around a bit. He then moved his cuffed hand to the handcuffs that the two of them shared. Wrapping his hand around it, he seemed to fuss with it some, not even giving it a glance. It was then that it gave him a little shock and he pulled his hand back some, accidentally pulling Chaldene's hand with him. "Sorry about that. I get nervous sometimes," he lied as he looked at him, that charming smile still placed upon his lips. "So, how about instead of sitting here awkwardly, we talk? What are you in for Chaldene," said the man whose name tag could now be read as Myston.

"Punched a guard. My my that's not good at all Chaldene. They are probably going to kill you for that. Stepping out of line so drastically, punching a defender of the state. I hope you like torture followed by a long drawn out death," he said simply as he looked off, watching the guards for a moment or two again. Dark eyes then gradually shifted back to the other, hoping to see a tad bit of fear just to see the regular calmness that was expected. How boring. He was hoping maybe, just maybe, he'd be paired up with someone interesting this time. Perhaps a nutjob looking to get free, someone who recognized the problems that this government had. But, no, he was stuck with a stiff again. Well, no point dragging a man who couldn't swim behind him, just for him to try to rat them out later. No, this man would be no use to him.

With this decided, the man started fussing with the cuffs again, watching the guards finally leave the room as the distraction in a few rooms over was started. He had ten minutes now to get the cuffs off and jump ship. A little longer if Gizmo got the lock nice and secure. This stupid handcuff should only take two though, as long as Chaldene didn't struggle against it. Maybe if he distracted him.

"It's an old song called "Fly me to the Moon." A lovely song. Jazz. The state banned it a long time ago, but I remember it."

"They banned it because it didn't fit their needs. And I know they don't like it, but it helps me pass the time, so really I couldn't care less," he said simply before turning his gaze back to watch as Gizmo locked the doors shut, making them temporarily impassible. Step one done. Next step. Get these d@mn handcuffs off and..

"Ow.. stupid pieces of s**t," he muttered, just to chuckle as Chal spoke up again. "My. My you sure are talkative aren't you. And if the guards assumed that. Well then, you could feel a bit more confidant in that you were going to be killed by competant guards. Makes the death much quicker I hear."

As he spoke, he continued fidgeting with the cuffs just to groan. "Giz. Can you please get your a** over here and help me undo these cuffs," he said slightly impatiently just for a nearby teen to put a one second finger up. "No point in having come on this train, if we don't even get Mora free," he said as he fidgeted with the cuff of a woman, who looked like she had perhaps been given a few too many drugs to put her out of commission.

At this, the young man groaned and crossed his arms impatiently, no longer taking in account any consideration for Chal.

Shifting his eyes over to Chaldene as he yelped, he rolled his eyes and shook his head."I won't drown. I can swim until the lot of you crazies," he said, as he looked at the man, seeming rather annoyed. He was getting impatient and this guy was a thorn in his side. If he had just agreed to come, he wouldn't have to wait for Giz to come over. No, he could already be jumping out the d@mn window, leaving him with less of a swim and with more time to do a headcount. Well, he guessed he'd just have to take a headcount from the window.

Leaning over Chal, he more than invaded his personal space so he could look out the window. There was Tank and Lena. And there was Alpha. And there was guards. Sh*t. He thought Giz's hacking would've lasted longer than that. "Giz grab Mora and get out. You can keep her from drowning yeah?"

A nod was given in response to this and then a worried shift of the eyes to Chal. "Don't worry about it. I got this Giz." With that said, he watched Giz jump out with Mona. He then watched them fall before turning to his own window and then Chal. Thinking on the best course of action, he grabbed the man's hand against his will, then moved back to take a running start. "Get ready for a swim," he announced, not giving the man so much as a moment to realize what was going on or a chance to struggle as he ran directly up to the glass, breaking through it and falling into thin air.