Episode 9: Light in the Darkness

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Rin sat, wide eyed and holding her knees cosily, looking up at Joji.

The heavy blanket of defeat and isolation that had covered him whilst lying on the cold concrete floor had lifted from his body and he felt the rush of invigoration and surrealism; as though he had stumbled into a dream.

He felt the magnetic pull and piercing eyes of the Seraph in the hangar clawing at his presence, but she sat on the metal platform with angelic poise and otherworldly calmness; and Joji was fixed on her.

Her familiarity felt like she was reaching into his chest, greeting his heart like she had never left, and taking it in a warm embrace.

“How was the fall?” she asked, without a hint of a smile.

Joji snapped back to reality, and he realised the sharp pain radiating through his body from the fall from the tunnel above. He exhaled and forced a sarcastic laugh.

“Great, thank you.” he replied, “I’d definitely recommend.”

Rin allowed half of her mouth to form a smile, and she gestured Joji to the space beside her with a nod of her head, “Come,” she said softly.

Joji shuffled over the metal grating of the platform and perched himself next to Rin, his back pressed against the wall. He could almost feel her next to him; and rather than feeling like a space to be protected and guarded against, he longed for the gentle touch of their arms and the pressure of leaning against her.

He looked out in front of him and saw the upper half of the white mech.

It was illuminated by spotlights from the floor of the hangar, highlighting the brilliant white of its metallic exterior; whilst simultaneously providing for the sharp contrast of shadows painting dark edges and borders as the light bounced and was guarded by the finely tuned, yet rugged details of the white Seraph.

“It’s quite something,” said Rin.

Joji turned and spotted the sparkle and glimmer of awe in her dark eyes; despite the soft light of the hangar and the deep brown of her eyes, he could see them shine like stars in the night sky. He traced the strand of hair sitting comfortably down to her cheek bone. He turned back to the Seraph.

“Yeah,” he replied.

They sat without speaking for what felt like minutes. The hangar was quiet and otherwise empty but for Joji, Rin, and the white Seraph.

Joji shuffled and adjusted himself; relaxing and sinking down to a more comfortable position.

Rin turned her head to face Joji and rested it on her knees.

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

“With what?”

She rolled her eyes and tutted.

“I don’t know,” said Joji softly and quietly after a moment of reflection, “I think I had hoped to get lost in the tunnels if I’m honest.” He paused again, and the pair of them sat in the lingering silence of the hangar.

“It’s not that I don’t want to choose,” he continued, “It’s just… I haven’t been able to? I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel or think anymore; well, not that I ever really did anyway.”

Joji ran his fingers through the thick hair on the back of his head; the scratching of his scalp and the ruffling of his brown hair danced and trickled through the air of the hangar against the backdrop of a calm and now gentle atmosphere.

“I get that.”

Rin looked down at the floor beside Joji and back up to him as he was looking out to the mech in the distance.

“Can I ask you something?” she asked.

Joji turned to Rin. He caught her gaze and allowed himself to look into her eyes and she looked back. He flinched and turned to the side.

“Go ahead,” he replied.

“The other day, with Aris, what did you mean when you said you wanted to get away?”

“Oh, that.”

Joji propped himself up and crossed his legs. He leant backwards and stared into the empty and lifeless eyes of the Seraph.

“I think, errrm, I’d just had enough, I guess,” he said.

“Had enough?” she queried.

“Of it all. Of everything,” Joji looked upwards to the dark ceiling. He sat and viewed the shapeless void above him. Rin watched him.

“I’m just so tired.” he whispered. “It’s all of me, all of the time. My body and my mind especially, but I even feel like my soul has just run out of everything - it’s just devoid of life.”

Joji exhaled through his nose and smiled.

“I’m just not good enough. I - erm - it’s hard, you know? Always letting people down.”

Rin sat wide eyed and gazing at Joji with a gentle and understanding look as he continued to look up at the black ceiling above them. She glanced down at the metal grating in the space between them, but Joji started to speak again, and she looked up to his lips.

“I don’t think people realise how hard it is.” he said with a slight crack in his voice.

“I’ve killed myself every day fighting for a normal life, to just get by and have the normal things that people want; and it just feels like I’ve been suffocating right in front of everyone… and no one even notices. And yeah, I’d had enough. I think sometimes it feels like I’m a ghost living between worlds, you know? But even that, I think, would be better. At least then I’d get it. But to be so visible and to never be seen - to just be there always trying my best, always taking responsibility to try to make things right, and to just be ignored, or disregarded, or just… I don’t understand how I can feel so alone and be so different in a world with so many people.”

Joji turned to Rin, this time holding eye contact for several seconds. A flicker of defiance sparked in his belly.

“And all of this? I get it. I really do. I hate the UGA. I hate what the world has become. I feel it so vividly and so painfully every day, it’s like chains around my neck and breathing in thick poisoned smog. It makes me feel so angry, it makes me want to destroy it all, to burn it all down and start again. I see the corruption, I see the disdain that people have for anyone who doesn’t have enough or who dares to just… be different.”

Joji looked out at the white Seraph and looked into the large dark spaces where its eyes are. He looked deeply and the longer he gazed, he swore he could see the soft glow of a deep and radiating purple glow.

“But no one cares,” he said firmly.

“Everything wrong with the world, it’s so obvious and yet no one cares. A handful of evil people I get, but what we’ve got, what we’ve had, this…this is systemic. This is too many people standing by and doing nothing for far too long, and at what point is that not malicious compliance? Malicious compliance or malicious ignorance, the end result is the same, I guess.”

He paused again.

“I, hmmm… I really have tried with people. With friends, girlfriends, even my family. The only thing I’ve ever wanted to do is be a super hero.”

Joji turned to Rin with a surprising vigour and then the faint smile on his face faded.

“Which is ironic because you probably don’t even know what they are. When we moved into the metropolis all the stories were just gone, well, maybe they were never there; but no one told any more stories and yeah…”

“I just always wanted to save people. It’s the only thing I ever wanted to do. And yet all I seemed to do was hurt people. They errr, just never understood me enough to see how hard I tried, how all I ever tried to do was to help them, they just always judged me from their perspective. I know I’m different, but there’s something quite painful about hurting people you love by being yourself, and being so different and so alone, that even they look past your intentions. Like I said, it’s hard.”

He looked down now, as though his neck no longer had the strength to support his head any more.

“If no one ever gets me, if I’m so different, if I’m always the problem, then it’s best I’m alone. Just like they tell me.”

The static in the world faded and a warm blanket of silent reflection covered the metal platform in the hangar. Joji let out a deep sigh and his body sank deeper into the platform.

Rin stretched out her legs in front of her; the tapping of her toes in her boots made them look like they were twitching and dancing.

“I can’t remember my life before coming here.” she said.

“Director Ryu took me in when they found me on a raid. I don’t know why I was there, I still can’t remember. I can’t even feel sad about it because it’s as though my life started when I came here.”

Rin smiled faintly.

“So what I’m trying to say is my entire life has been spent in the shadows, but knowing that the world is broken. I don’t understand why people are so reluctant to live their own lives, and why they’re so happy to live like slaves. But I know it’s not an accident. Why do you think we’re here, looking for ways to fight them? They need everyone to be tired and compliant and ignorant. They need people to not feel, to be morally reprehensible.”

Rin looked at Joji and saw him waiting on her words. Her reluctant smile widened slightly.

“You’re right, you are different. But in a world that is so grey and so malignant and so… uncaring; isn’t that a good thing? It takes a lot of courage to know that the world and people in it don’t work for you, it means you can see that something is wrong. Maybe others aren’t brave enough to feel that - especially with the UGA.”

Joji edged his hand to his left. He felt the memories of his dreams, and he suddenly longed to feel the soft touch of leaning against her.

“I understand why you don’t want to take on more responsibility for the people who don’t see you. I really do. But maybe everything you feel, everything you see, the reason why you are who you are; maybe the world needs someone like that so people can wake up. Even the last few days with the rumours of the Seraph… the white angel… it’s spurred something, a light… some hope. I can see something in you, too. I can feel it, hopefully that doesn’t sound too weird.”

Rin looked out at the Seraph, illuminated by the spotlights and standing in the contrast of the dark shadows of the corners of the hangar.

“And honestly, maybe people don’t deserve it. But I can feel it, something, I don’t know what to call it. It’s exciting, and hopeful, and full of life… and whilst there is still some light that the darkness hasn’t swallowed, I feel that that’s something worth fighting for.”

“Maybe you can be the light, Joji Sekko. Maybe that’s why the darkness ignores you. I trust you’ll do the right thing, whatever you choose to do.”

Joji and Rin sat in silence under the watching eye of the Seraph. There was a tranquillity about the air as night gradually took hold of the both of them. The metal grates of the platform were hard and cold, but in the shadow of the mech, Joji struggled to keep his eyes open. He glanced over at Rin whose chest rose and fell with deep quiet breaths. Joji exhaled, and allowed himself to drift effortlessly into a peaceful sleep.

As sleep took him he saw her again standing amongst a meadow of flowers and tall grass flowing and swaying gracefully in the wind.

She brushed her hands over the colours and turned back and greeted him with a smile.

“She’s not me” said Rin - her smile cut to nothingness, and all emotion stripped from her face. “She’s not real.”

“I’m here, she can’t be real.”

“She’s not real.”

Episode 8 - The Labyrinth

Episode 10 - Coming soon

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