Nira was hiding in a cupboard.<br/><br/>He hadn't really intended to spend the last half hour in such a small, unusual space, but it had happened and he was trying to deal with it as best he could.<br/><br/>He wasn't allowed in any of his parents' central greenhouses or labs. Nira had been raised on the principle of hard work. His father didn't give him a position in the central unit on such a cheap hereditary basis, despite his wife's insistence. So Nira worked on an outer compound, where the less exciting work was done. He had been making his way up, slowly but surely. He still felt the call of the central building, and his impulsive behaviour had led to the habit of observing and investigating the place. It happened almost daily that Nira sneaked in to examine the plants and chemicals that were grown, produced, and studied. Plus, the air was fresh, much fresher than anything outside the large glass domes that surrounded the buildings.<br/><br/>Getting in was easy enough. Nira knew of a loose grate near the back of the dome that slipped open if one was nimble-fingered. The problem was not getting caught by the range of scientists, farmers, and occasional guards that walked the beautifully decorated corridors.<br/><br/>This time Nira had gone into a research lab, where it looked like they were attempting to clone grain. He had been looking through the charts and files with increasing pessimism for the project when the doors had slid open, forcing him into a panic and a frighteningly small, luckily empty cupboard.<br/><br/>The short Korean man's knees were jammed into his chest, which trapped a strongly beating heart. His glasses were falling off his face, but he didn't have the room to push them back up. He heard a voice from the room. It said a single word that contained comfortingly familiar syllables.<br/><br/>"Sung-soo."<br/><br/>His father's name. Nira shifted, attempting to hear more, but it appeared that the scientists were now communicating with their graphs, charts, and drawings. If only he could open the door, just a small inch without anyone noticing...<br/><br/>Nira waited, and waited. He had always been good at waiting, and staying quiet. It was what he been asked to do most of the time as a child. He waited until the sound of footsteps filled the room as the group rushed off. Nira's glasses fell off his face, producing a quiet clatter as they hit the bottom of the cupboard.<br/><br/>Nira pushed the door open with his foot, placing his glasses back on his face as he stretched out. He had to leave. The idea of being caught by his father worried him.<br/><br/>Nira left out the grate, taking deep breaths as his body acclimatized to the change in air quality. The main research facility was in a better part of their dome, but the smog from the mining and industrial areas still left an unpleasant tang to the air. Nira had never been there himself, and never been allowed to. His mother controlled his life, even as he had become an adult. He longed to escape.<br/><br/>His mother wasn't expecting Nira to be back from his class, which he had skipped, until later in the day. His feet led him almost instinctively to the market. Despite being from a well-off family, Nira didn't stand out with his brown slacks and gray shirt. He melted into the crowd, looking around and gathering inspiration for a new painting. His eyes saw the flesh of the people melt away until they were made of bones of glass, filled with light. The market stalls became towers of dead flowers, with a living bloom scattered here and there. The caved ceiling disappeared, leaving only a vast blue expanse above. The sky. Nira had only heard of it. How much he longed to see it.<br/><br/>An unearthly screech filled the market, causing several people to freeze or jump in shock. The noise came from the intercoms, and was halted to be replaced with the voice of a man.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Food shortages. Bravery. Misfits. <span style="font-weight: bold">Adventure</span>.</span>Nira's head cocked to the side s he listened, eyes gleaming with excitement. Would they take him, knowing his family? He felt like one, a misfit in conformist's clothing. He had to go.<br/><br/>Nira had to see the sky.