hope.
@cepid for mikoto! )
“i’m scared.” and the minute the words leave her mouth hyejin feels them shudder through her body. fear, something she knows well. power, something she’d always feared. her own however, is something new. her ability to acquire and be powerful, is new.
it’s hard to describe how she got where she is, how to tell what led her, crouching under a fern and clutching onto metal for dear life. dear life, while a white armor-clad body lays a few feet from her, lifeless. and with a rather nasty wound going from the bottom of their back to the helmet. through and through and smelling of all that it took.
hyejin’s smelled worse, grew up where all she knew was rust, back alley deaths and scraping by. she’s been up close but she’s never been personal. never been the cause and the chaos that brings about death. she never thought it in her.
and that’s what they teach her, scavengers like her. with no name or family. teach her that she’s only as good as what she can carry, what she can do. and hyejin can do a lot. she can reassemble a droid. she can hotwire a first order jet even though she can’t quite read the map to get out. she can use a blaster though she’s never had a need to, and never keeps one on her.
the metal between her hands is definitely, not a blaster. she’s heard of it, knows that this must be what it looks like. this must be what power is. everything in her screams let go, forget forget forget and run. run like when you see those back alley murders and you hit the hills. run like the last piece of bread from a cart doesn’t belong to that nasty smuggler who will have your head mounted on the hull of his ship. run and don’t look back.
but she can’t run, she can’t let go and she can’t look away.
everything was supposed to be easy. as easy as getting in and out of a crashed ship could be. salvage what she could to survive and get the hell out. no one told her what kind of ship it was, and no one had to. they went by instinct and hoped, hoped that luck would be on their side. even as luck had often failed them and kept them in this predicament, it kept them alive. hyejin, and those like her who had to scramble for life to hold onto them.
she’d went in first, not the smallest but the quickest. most desperate is what they’d say.
she’d went in and scoured.
the ship was empty until it wasn’t. she ran until she couldn’t. the fastest and the most desperate for life, somehow ready to watch it fade from her. not quite ready to see it fade from someone else.
she couldn’t see his face. all she saw was a mask, garbled orders behind a blaster and a mask. distorted speech that sounded too much like the noise she’s tried to get rid of during the night. too much, too much, and all she has to hold onto is the saddle she’d pulled from the ship. hands clutching the only thing that’s made her who she is, a scavenger and a survivor.
the contents became her savior.
hyejin doesn’t remember how it happened. remembers that suddenly something was in her hands. remembers something gentle, unlike anything she’s ever known for her body is used to brittle and breakage only. healing, like the fear and willingness to accept her fate dies when her hands grip the steel. soft, cold, but warm. something she’d imagine to be home if she had it.
in her hands and inside her. as if something in her could ever be good.
moving with her and moving against them. as if anything about her could be a force.
there’s nothing grand, though there is a flash. of deep purple, as white breaks and armor singes.
she smells the armor first, melted through, the armor before the flesh. she realizes it later, she she hasn’t let go of the lightsaber. she realizes it, before she realizes that she’s got a wound in her shoulder, before she realizes she’s too tired to stand, far too tired to let go of the only thing that made her feel alive - kept her alive.
no it’s when he’s crouched in front of her, a strange man. smiles aren't something they’re used to in this part of the galaxy. at least not in the corners she frequents. smiles aren’t given to the hopeless and no one around here really has any hope. so they’ve forgotten how. hyejin’s forgotten what it really looks like.
but he’s smiling, and she remembers that they’re bright things. hopeful things. he’s smiling despite the lightsaber thrust out and in his space. smiling despite the blood on her cheeks, the terror in her eyes.
‘it’s going to be okay.’ she doesn’t believe him. ‘you’re going to be okay.’ she doesn’t believe any of this. ‘my name’s mikoto, i’m with the resistance.’ she still sees the smile, doesn’t quite see his lips moving. doesn’t quite see anything happening around her. feel it either. the lightsaber’s still in her hand, this time closer to her chest and her back, someone’s hand is on her back. someone’s helping her stand.
‘you’re safe.’ someone’s whispering lies. because no one’s safe here. no one can ever be safe. she doesn’t realize she’s muttering the words until the walking stops, until a ship comes into full view and the world around her starts to open it. he’s holding her steady and if he weren’t she’d surely be back on the floor. ;what’s your name?’ he asks her something but she’s not paying attention, she can’t really. she’s caught, enthralled.
because the ship - the people running to and from - the person holding her up and helping her walk - the others checking her condition - and the hand that doesn’t let her go, just as the lightsaber doesn’t leave her grip.
hyejin didn’t know hope had a form.
but she thinks this comes close. and it’s quite beautiful.
“hyejin. my name’s hyejin.”
and she thinks she understands why he smiles.
