To hate something that you used to love is such a painful feeling — Ciel Phantomhive (Kurosuji)

Luhan desires to burn something.

His shadow is leaning against the door, it's ears pressing upon the peeling paint and wooden splinters of the entrance, hoping to catch even the slightest fragments of his parents' conversation. Luhan however, couldn't carry the weight of their words anymore. So he doesn't listen. At least he tries not to. But even with so much practice, he couldn't possibly dodge every single negative remark thrown in his direction.

It started about a month ago, when Luhan had refused treatment.

Like all the others, he had received his personality exam results on his 15th birthday. Closely monitored for a whole year, a walnut-sized robot following him two shadows too close. The package was thick, one could've mistaken it for a light novel. Stubborn, emotional, impulsive... Those were some of the only few words he was able understand within all the medical jargon. The list went on. 

Now, not being included in their discussion is irking Luhan as he desperately tries to find a lighter. Victory and apprehension churns within him as he sets fire to the dreaded exam results. Ink suddenly isn't so permanent after all. The fire eats away at the weak substance with greed before it is suddenly extinguished. 

He whirls around only to meet his mother's face directly before his own. Her expression is blank with the absence of emotions.

"Why did you burn your papers? You know you must hand them in to receive your treatment."
Her voice is colourless and lacklustre. Ever since the treatment, he has never seen her get angry.

"I intend to skip out, they aren't necessary," he replies smoothly.

"They are mandatory, it is required by law."

Luhan sighs and closes his eyes, unwilling to give away any indication of giving in. Unwilling to look at the empty shell of a human before him. "My answer is no."

"You don't understand, it is for your own good. They are mandatory, it is required by law." 

"You cannot make me. I am made up of more than just meaningless scribbles woven with chemicals and wood resins. My flaws are part of what makes me human."

"They are mandatory, it is required by law." A broken tape is less repetitive than she.

Luhan wonders briefly if there's any hope of bringing them back. His parents had been so.. calm about everything for the past few years. Voices monotone and expressions monochromatic. It was unnerving to say the least.

He walks forward and wraps his arms around her for the first time in years as she stands there, unflinching. "Please, I miss you. It's been hell living everyday with you and dad, you guys who died 7 years ago. It's been hell looking at your faces yet not being able to see you. It's been hell period."

"They are mandatory, it is required by law."

He lets go of her and screams, "Can you stop saying that!? Even when I attempted suicide, that's all you've ever said!"

She stood there, unimpressed by his outburst.

"I-I'm leaving. I'm sorry, but all these years I've been trying to fix you and it's not working."

His dad comes into the room. "Fix? Don't worry, it's almost time for our next treatment too."

Luhan ignores him, heading toward the front entrance of the house, grabbing his bag filled with miscellaneous running-away-from-home-items. "By leaving, I meant leaving Greenhouse. Will you.. Will you come with me?" He stares at his hand gripping the doorknob. It's shaking.

"Leaving Greenhouse is against the law," they reply in unison.

Luhan didn't need to turn around to know that his parents had walked off to notify the authorities. It's the most sensible thing to do in this situation after all.

~

We are most pleased to announce that from this point on, perfection is ours to control. 

For 12-year old Luhan, monsters existed in the form of his perfect parents and the revolutionary treatment that had started it all.  

~

Crazy.

In serious need of treatment is what one would describe Luhan. He had left shortly after their argument feeling very pleased with himself. Perhaps rightly so. After all, he left. Left without looking back once. The results were right, he is emotional and stubborn. But then again, being practical and rational is such a bore.

The ground resonated beneath him with every step. A dull clang, clang, clang, clang... It was unnerving as to how much it resembled the world — at least, what is left of it — nowadays, bleak and monotonous.

~

We have developed a surgical process that would remove any undesirable traits and insert instead favourable ones. Everyone is required to receive treatment at the age of 15 and every 5 years after that. By identifying a trait's location in one's genes and various parts of the brain, not just the amygdalae, we are able to extract and slot in almost any genetically determined characteristic. Our method also ensures a near permanent prevention of the resurfacing of the eliminated trait. This delves beyond simply physical features. This discovery of how to manipulate the human genome and nervous system to suit one's profession is bigger than the cure for cancer, for Ebola, for aids. For it is the cure for mankind itself.

~

As he headed towards Lachrymose, Luhan remembers how much he used to wish his dad would stop smoking. How he hated when his mom constantly nagged. It was funny, now that his wish came true, he longs for everything to go back to the way it was. So pathetically hilarious to the point he could die of laughter. Or maybe just die. But Luhan is stubborn so he remains alive and half cynical. Perhaps a quarter clumsy too. He likes to think of himself as a everlasting pimple on the face of this seemingly perfect world. Like the ones teenagers had a few hundred years ago before they devised this ointment (hallelujah). He also likes to think that he makes a very nice pimple.

~

"My parents are acting weird. They're so stiff."
"I know, mine too. Do you think it's because of the treatment?"
"Who cares? My dad doesn't yell at me anymore."
"It's kinda creepy though, don't you think? I mean, shouldn't we report this to someone?"
"To who? All the adults are like this now, even the scientists themselves. The oldest ones that haven't gone through with this are only fourteen. We can't do anything about it now."
"Maybe it'll wear off?"
"I don't think so. After all, this isn't a side effect. It's what they wanted, isn't it?"
"What? Didn't the announcement state that they would take away the bad traits?"
"Well, emotions are impractical. Maybe that's why they took those away. At least my mom is smiling all the time."
"That's because your mom is a preschool teacher. My dad is a lawyer, his face is so... Dead."
"Maybe we just have to get used to it."

~

The authorities wouldn't hinder Luhan from exiting. After all, no life exists in Lachrymose, the desolate land outside of Greenhouse. The few that dared to leaved in the past all died. The police needn't bother to take any action unless it would somehow endanger the society as a whole.

Luhan walks slowly, trying to convince himself that this is what he wanted. Living close to the border, it's easy to escape. But in reality, all he is hoping for is someone to stop him. To tell him that it's okay, he doesn't have to leave Greenhouse for freedom only to rot in Lachrymose. That he doesn't have to go through with the treatment. That they accept him for who he is.

No one does.

Grey buildings. More grey buildings. Some grey people. Even more grey people. Luhan's eyebrows furrow. Colour. He catches a glimpse of a girl so seemingly familiar. She is like a fleeting thought. One a person cannot quite grasp. 

She has scars on her body. Not much, just a few scratches from probably falls and such. But scars were supposed to be non-existent nowadays. Her hair is pitch black and falls in a way that hides most of her face. Grey top, black pants and exam results in hand. 

Exam results?

He walks over to her, frustrated with remembering and yet not not being able to remember both at once. Luhan knows he knows her.

Apprehension nips at his heels as he inches closer with every heartbeat.