Kento Nanami worked endlessly at the Records Department of the Ministry of Truth. All he does is rewrite the history to make the Party look better. He had long stopped asking questions, no longer cared about the lies he forged.

During his week off, he would take the train to the countryside. He went to the train station. He pulled out a cigarette as he waited for the next train.

BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU.

The poster was stuck on every wall along with many slogans and propaganda. There were cameras at every corner of the station, guards at every entrance, thought police talking to a little girl with her nervous mother, young patriotic children with their watchful eyes— too eager to report anything suspicious. They worshipped Big Brother, loved him more than their own parents.

Nanami barely paid them any attention, he took another drag and looked at his watch.

The train whistled in the distance, right on time. Of course it was— the train always ran on time. It was the few things the Oceania Party always prided itself on, a symbol of efficiency and order. A well-oiled machine that didn’t need its cogs to think in order to function.

After an hour or so, he arrived. He remembered your instructions to finding the place. He knocked five times, because three is too broad, four is too common of a passcode, and no one knocks five times according to you.

Nanami let out a breath when his eyes landed on you. You were the only thing that interested him in this bleak world.

You were relaxed in the way he never allowed himself to be.

He allowed himself to indulge, just once more. “This will be the last time,”

He knows he cannot risk his job, his status.. or his damn life for this. But he does anyway. This is the only thing that makes him feel alive.