Gin slammed his pen on his pen then proceeded to place a piece of paper on a pile. ‘All done! Your results aren’t the greatest but you’ve improved, Joan. From getting like a tenth of the material right to getting about half of them.’
‘Oh. I still got a long way to go still,’ Joan sulked, picking up her work to a myriad of crosses and ticks.
As she did so, she glanced at the Gin every so often. At first, he ignored them but as time went on, the silence got under his skin. Though he couldn’t quite say it was true silence. The ticking of the wretched clock behind him prevented that after all. It kept whispering to him day and night, taunting Gin for his mistakes the other week and squeaking him awake whenever his schedule left the manush to his lonesome.
‘Gin?’ Joan spoke at last, much to Gin’s comfort.
‘What?’ Gin glared at his medic.
‘Are you ok?’
‘Do you think I look good?’ Gin looked up, his movements lethargic in motion.
Joan sighed. She clutched sheets of paper to her chest, mulled over her thoughts, then began, ‘You got some bags under your eyes and you’re a little agitated today. And, well, I – after last week, I’m not sure how much I helped out. I can only ask the man himself, right? Hehe…’
Gin let out a wry smile. He started rocking on his chair while eyeing another piece of paper. His handwriting scrawled all over this one, he went over the words and scowled with each passing sentence. His face got redder and redder while his teeth gritted harder and harder. All until he noticed a looming hand.
‘Don’t!’ he barked.
Joan snatched her hand away in shock and continued to clutch her work.
‘Ah, no,’ Gin’s eyes widened. His heart filled with guilt as he waved his hands out in apology. ‘I’m still a little on edge. Been trying to figure out something. I still don’t know what but I get the feeling I know deep down. As for the baggy eyes, that’s down to lack of sleep from all the marking.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Joan calmed him down. ‘When I got you to mark it all, I didn’t mean to –’
‘No, it’s not your fault,’ Gin put out a finger to stop her from talking. ‘On the contrary, I learnt that I don’t dream from power naps. It changed a lot and I feel better than ever. Seriously, it’s like I’m a whole new person and it’s thanks to y-’
‘Gin!’ Joan snapped.
The manush jumped in his chair. He turned round, as slow as he could, to the scene of paper on the floor and his bed. He didn’t dare look further up though as he already felt the pressure coming from his medic.
‘I –’
‘Gin!’ she reprimanded with sheer ferocity in her voice. ‘You’re lying to me but, more importantly, you’re lying to yourself. Sure, you may be better than before but this is barely any better. I’m genuinely sick of this.’
‘I know. I know. You told me to face things head-on but I might have made it seem like I’m running away from my problems instead,’ Gin stared at the floor in shame.
‘At least you’re aware,’ Joan calmed down. ‘Ugh. Why did Brim think I would be the one to help you?’
Gin could hear the rustling of paper but didn’t look in Joan’s direction. His body quaked at what he might see. Yet, he still mustered up the courage to prompt, ‘What do you mean? All you’ve been doing is helping me out these days. Normally there’s something I can complain about you. There’s a lot of things I find annoying to be honest but lately, there’s none.’
‘Hey, could you look at me for a second?’
At first, he hesitated. Then he obliged. As he did so, he dreaded Joan in full fury despite her calm words. However, what he saw sickened him to his core instead: on the verge of tears and he could blame no one but himself for it.
‘I’m going to be blunt here. Ever since the battle, you’ve been different. I’ve said this before, I know, but it’s gone on for too long, hasn’t it? If this is your old self, before you joined squadron W, then ok. It’s funny because you mention having no complaints about me but I know I’ve done plenty for you to complain about. Never anything major but it’s always the small things that you’d make me roll my eyes over. Though looks like I’ll just have to live with the fact that the person I first met was a fake. That Gin was arrogant, annoying and a walking disaster waiting to get injured. Even so, I enjoyed the company of that fake so much more than the slow poison being with you is now!’
A slow pause followed. Gin didn’t have a response nor did he even want to. What would he respond with? Start a pointless argument? That wouldn’t solve anything. Nod and agree? That would cause more grief to Joan. Silence? Maybe that would work best.
‘Do you even think about Michael these days?’ Joan asked all of a sudden.
Where did that even come from? Gin’s eyes widened. But the more he thought about it, the more his answer became a simple, ‘No.’
‘Go figure. That’s just how it is with you at the moment, isn’t it?’ Joan tilted her head with a fake smile.
‘Are you done mocking me? Even using Michael’s death as an argument like the despicable person that you are,’ Gin grimaced.
‘That’s better,’ this time Joan let out a real smile.
‘I need help, Joan. The me right now is the fake and I hate it,’ Gin poured out his emotions. ‘I know I need to figure out what I’m missing but if I’m hurting you or Brim or anyone else around me, then it’s not worth it.’
Satisfied with his reply at last, Joan laid down her work and stood up. She walked over to Gin, shooed him to the edge of his seat and sat on the very same chair so that they had their backs against each other.
‘The way I see it, you either give up on finding out what’s causing you problems or actually finding it out. However, I’m just as stuck as you are,’ Joan admitted. ‘So, how about we look for someone who can solve this little puzzle of yours.’
‘Ok,’ Gin agreed.
‘Let’s start with Brim.’
‘I already talked to him. He got back to you to talk to me, didn’t he?’
‘Yeah,’ Joan tilted her head back, resting it on Gin’s shoulder as she watched the ceiling. ‘How about Syndra?’
‘She has her own problems to deal with. Michael’s death isn’t only affecting me,’ Gin sighed.
‘Wo?’
‘Haven’t seen the bastard since we arrived in squadron O.’
‘Hehe. Exactly what I told Brim. Maria?’
‘The colonel? She’s busy now though, isn’t she? I doubt I’ll get the chance to speak with her any time soon.’
‘With rumours of a war coming up, you may get the chance soon enough,’ Joan explained while leaning further into Gin’s back. ‘Ok, let’s try some rapid suggestions. Jake?’
‘We’re still not on good enough terms for that.’
‘Gargarensis?’
‘He’s not as bad as I first thought,’ Gin could feel Joan’s weight pressing further against him. ‘But he’s not really the right type of person to talk to on this,’
‘Astral?’
‘Too much of a clown. He can get serious but I doubt I could get a serious conversation going that’ll help me out overall.’
‘Not sure what a “clown” is but moving on. Oh, how about your messenger?’
‘Sam? Hmm,’ Gin tilted his head back. ‘I don’t know. Also, can you please stop pushing me down? I feel like my back is going to break.’
‘Nope!’ Joan sniggered.
‘Suit yourself,’ Gin pushed back, almost knocking Joan off the seat, as he stood up. He stood motionless for a moment. The clock that irritated him earlier now ticked and tocked to a more harmonious melody like a mesmerising piece of music that no longer existed in this world. Only when it struck the hour mark did Gin snap out of his trance. It’s time already?
‘We got to go,’ Gin announced. ‘The graduation ceremony is soon.’
‘Oh, you’re right,’ Joan got up and checked the clock herself. ‘Can’t believe it’s been two hours already.’
Two hours? Gin froze. Could have sworn she was here for only twenty minutes.
‘Shall we? I’ll pick up my work later for review,’ Joan’s word got him to move.
The pair left the room and headed toward the lifts. Neither spoke. Instead, they found themselves both in deep thought. It persisted even when the elevator arrived. They just walked in. No noise. No extra movements. Just pure, emotionless autopilot.
A list of people ran through Gin’s mind. He took Joan’s words to heart and wanted to implement them as soon as possible. Who do I talk to? he questioned himself. At first, he reached the same conclusion as his conversation earlier: excuses for each and every one. After a few long moments in the (what seemed like) endless ride to the ground floor, he came round to a few options but the best person to help him would be the medic that stood beside him. However…
Why am I so hung up on this? I’m forcing too much on her. From forcing cheer to tears to worry to playfulness to this? he caught a glance at Joan caught in a whirlpool of melancholic pensiveness. Despite that, he knew that forgetting his troubles would make it worse. For him. For Joan. For everyone around him.
‘I’ll try,’ Gin muttered.
Joan jumped as if awoken mid-sleep. The lifts stopped at last and the doors flung open.
‘Huh?’
‘I’ll find someone who I can talk to. I don’t know who but I will get to the bottom of this and then I’ll get back to you, carefree and ready to be carefree and annoyed with you and -,’ Gin spoke up before stopping his ramble to add a final, ‘and, well, you get the gist. I promise I’ll try.’
Joan didn’t speak. She didn’t move. All she did was blink. In fact, by the time other signs of life appeared, the elevator doors already closed with neither Gin nor Joan out. All that remained was one dead-panned manush and a mage that looked as if several tonnes of weight got lifted from her body as she burst into the most genuine, gleeful grin Gin had seen out of anyone for a long time.
‘Uh, the doors shut. Let’s go before we’re sent back up,’ Gin prompted.
‘You’re right,’ Joan gave a meek nod as she fidgeted from delight.
They left the rezah and set out into the scorching heat of the desert they resided in. A few more flowers bloomed more than usual and several mages walked about in blocks of fifty.
‘I’m happy we made progress,’ Joan spoke with a lofty air to her voice.
‘What are you talking about?’ Gin raised a brow.
‘You know, Gin, think a little out of the box. I listed all the people we know mutually. I think?’ Joan didn’t answer his question. ‘Maybe someone else can help you out here. I wish it could have been me but oh well. I got to go in another direction, so I’ll leave it there. Thanks again for marking my work.’
At that, Joan left with a little spring in her step.
What’s with all the mood swings today? Gin stared in disbelief. He could never quite understand her nor did he want to try. No, he wanted to focus on the current sole mission instead.
A fire ignited within. His thoughts still whirred yet at a more controlled level. His head still throbbed but at a more mellowed amount. His eyes wanted to close shut but a surge of adrenaline kept him awake. A renewed sense of purpose surged through his body that told him to complete this mission at all costs. However, first things first.
He needed to graduate.
