Null Existence

1. The Knight and the Princess

The thunderous thunder muffled the sound of a broken glass wall crashing, a body thrown into freefall five floors down, thumping down the roof of a taxi that was parked taking passengers.

That night Tokyo was drenched in endless heavy rain Summer until dawn. Kabuki-cho is a popular red light district in Japan.

Lanterns lined the streets that were indeed sleeves due to the rain, but nightclubs, smoky pubs, and snack shops that were open late into the night remained crowded by humans.

The prospective passenger who was half-barred and the driver was aghast looking for the source of the man's body, looking up at the top of the Night Club and Spa building in front of him.

The sound of gun shots barking from one floor on the floor which is now hollowed out walls, the barrel flash that vomits lead to make up the blackened bulkhead of the room in there, he said, unpretentious to the roar of pain and the whirling of bullets bouncing off the walls.

Someone again plunged hard into the wet asphalt in front of the taxi, some paddled hikers gasped and hurriedly stepped away.

The flash followed by the seat highlighted the figure of a young woman in a dark military tactical suit, her frozen and cruel face photographed by a second, louder and more brightly lit statue.

The room was silent after the rumbling sound disappeared. Everything was lifeless except for him.

On the other side of the Night Club, a group of people rushed through the exit in the narrow alley behind the Klab, heading towards the sedan that was lying in wait.

“Contact Matsuda in the police, tell him to send his members, don't let the woman get away!” men shouted with stiff faces and split whiskers, wearing expensive suits that looked like their bosses.

“Good! Mr. Asano.” replied one of them. While those remaining are on standby to release their departure.

Asano broke through the rain and immediately got into the car waiting for him. Censored in the heart of tonight's attack which was likely carried out by his rival Yakuza family. Though he already believes cooperation with foreign parties should benefit the position of his group in the struggle for the highest power in their hierarchy.

“Come on the road!” yell to the driver.

Blam it!

The sound of a large caliber rifle echoed like thunder in the cold air along with the front hood of his car which exploded into flames.

The same sound of gunfire followed, this time the projectile penetrated the bulletproof windshield and melted the driver's head into the rear seat.

Asano spontaneously jumped out of the car and found that some of his men had also been sprawled by bullets. Three surviving men grabbed a Katana (Japanese curved sword) from the trunk of a car and blew it towards someone at the end of the alley.

Asano tried to guess the figure disguised by a curtain of rain and steam from the steaming ground, he appeared to stand upright behind a parked motorcycle in the direction of exit.

Only a glimpse of his black suit and white shirt that looks decorated with colorful neon. He and his own men were completely unaware of the presence of the figure, even though the distance between them was no more than 50 meters.

“Who are you! Who sent you? Answer!” yell Asano.

No answer from the other end. The figure shook against the exclamations that had been issued to him, ignoring the empty threat that Asano's men had sprayed.

Seemingly a quiet predator watching from a distance, and now his prey began to panic.

“Stop!” asano's word to his three subordinates.

In return, a red laser glimmered from a distance and down Asano's forehead. The three sons of his croc looked confused, the look on the face of the Yakuza boss seemed to stiffen deathly pale, his eyes widened in horror.

The laser beam empties into the roof of a five-story building 200 meters from where Asano is located.

Derived from large binoculars on high caliber rifles operated by a tall figure with a limp black poncho.

Asano and his croconya will not be able to see his form clearly, but on the contrary, he who is armed with night-image lenses is able to watch them from behind the veil of night.

“Target in the shot,” he said, giving a message to his colleague who intercepted deep down there, in the face of the alley through the earpiece.

The figure waiting at the end of the alley replied by raising his left hand shoulder-high, as if giving a cue to the sniper behind the rifle binoculars.

Asano, who could only watch the two communicate, felt his life growing at the tip of the horn.

However, unexpectedly the laser shot went out just like that, there was no sound of gunfire.

Asano was able to feel his heart beating normally, his knee was lost and wanted to collapse.

But instead, a mysterious figure at the end of the alley is now coming at them.

***

“Arjuna, stand by your position, wait for my cue. Agni, status update?” jagawana exclaimed through the earpiece, while removing the Katana that was clasped on his motorbike.

It then re-exposes its gaze to its prey acting frantic and cornered. The four of them looked tense even though he had not yet left his place.

The little bluff from his Runduk Shooter just now seemed to be effective.

“Arjuna stand-by,” Sahut Arjuna, with low voice in earpiece. He did turn off his laser pistol, but still kept an eye on everything from a height. Rain spots rattled on his poncho.

“Agni here, I will join soon. The whole room has been swept.” Agni replied in the earpiece, stepping over the bodies of her victims.

The VIP floor room was messy like a broken ship that ran aground scattered, full of pools of blood, corpses scattered and loud music even though the audience had now been picked up by death.

The young lady dressed in black military clothes wiped her bayonet on the shirt of one of the corpses, then sheathed it in a chest vest. Wet air crept in from the gaping glass wall.

The task that Jagawana gave him this time was to create a diversion, and he carried it out well.

“Understanding! Jawana here, moving the execution of target.” said Jawana. His gaze was eyeing the remaining four Yakuza. The two members of his squad had already carried out the role, now it was his turn.

Raindrops splashed Katana's fluttering sharp blade, with a steady grip on the hilt Jagawana galloped down his quarry.

The three Yakuza advanced almost at the same time with loud shouts to meet him. But not lethal enough to stop him, he easily read the gestures of the three.

The first two people to empty him were less nimble at Jagawana's deceitful steps, he was like a shadow that swerved between the gaps that both made, convoluted and deflected, he was like a shadow that swung between the gaps that both made, twisted and deflected, and swung the cross slashes that broke down their chests and ribs.

Fast and deadly as usual, with no difficulty at all.

Both of them immediately stiffened, their katana slammed down, reflexes holding a gaping wound that gushed profusely before finally falling behind the figure of Jagawana.

One remaining Yakuza was aghast and for a moment spontaneously put the brakes on him, finding his two comrades knocked down just like that. But it is too late to back off.

The watchman can see doubt and mimic despair at the attack he finally did.

The yakuza's last loud shout struck out instantly, knocked down by the vertical swing of slicing apart along his body lines after his katana was fended off raw, tumbling down following his owner's body over the reddening rushing puddle.

All three floundered dying in a short time like a slaughtered animal.

Jagawan swiped the red dots from his sword blade, flipped the direction of his grasp and stepped towards Asano. He could see the Yakuza boss panicking like a cornered quarry, and in his desperation tried to fight back.

Asano grabbed a Katana from the car, squeezing it out of the golden ornate black sheath.

“I will not die like an animal in this disgusting place.” he shouted as he put up the horses of attack. All over his body was covered in rain.

“You are dead! Since deciding to take Soekarno's Manuscript hostage, and use it to negotiate with America for the benefit of your group.” Jagawana stopped a few meters in front of him, staring coldly at that desperate gesture.

He then mounted medium horses with blades clasped at waist level, serving as a defiant attitude to the duel from Asano which he analyzed as the beginning of the attack on the upper body.

“Again Hero you!” yell Asano.

Focusing on the right footing, Asano lunged at it by thrusting as hard as possible a deadly left arm, had Jagawana not been more deft to pull off the heavy rain.

A hard landing counterattack set against the sound of a huge thunderbolt.

In a blink of an eye Jagawana had already flipped the direction of his sword eye to levitate a second swing that fattened his opponent's left rib.

Asano widened, his screams choked, his katana slipped from his grasp and his attitude faltered before slumping on both knees, then drooping backwards.

Arjuna who was watching from his place was whistling short, as a reaction from the incident just now.

“We just need that manuscript, Okashira-sama. Do not complicate things,” exclaimed Jagawana who has now hung the tip of his blade above the neck of the Yakuza boss.

While his left waist was sore and nearly numb, the Yakuza boss could only respond with a bitter laugh, Jagawana asked once more.

His calm voice was almost muffled by the heavy rainfall on the gutter. Heavy rain continued to pound the sky of Tokyo that night, 3 years ago.

***

“You're fired, Rangga!”

That terrible state continued to linger inside Rangga's head. As he accelerated his little run across the parking lot. This is the second time he arrived late in the same week, while only 6 six months ago he was accepted to work.

Ms. Meyshinta, HR Manager in her office had already warned Rangga about this when he was reprimanded last week. He was reluctant to imagine being made that statement this early like in a reality TV show.

Exposed to dismissal and back idle is a scourge he tries to avoid, but sometimes Jakarta morning traffic can not always work together.

It slowed down slightly when it entered the Lobby courtyard of an expensive office building complex that is on the most crowded veins of the Jakarta economy. His office occupies several floors in one building. Nimblely he slipped into the middle of the human currents that crowded the entrance gate of the Lobby, queuing to enter in turns.

“Mas Rangga!”

A young woman clad in a brown hijab and a fashionable work suit, called out her name from one corner of the building. Rangga turned his head towards the source of the voice, he found his coworkers calling. Her name is Raisa, she is a young accountant who just worked in the same office with Rangga, both hands tote a container containing a coffee glass.

“Mas, I'm asking for help yes. It has no name each yes mas Rangga, please ushered to each table, I was in a hurry because there was a meeting in the morning.” Pinta Raisa, while sequencing her reddish lentiknya.

“Oh yes Mbak, let me inter” later replied Rangga while smiling.

“Kok tumben, Mbak Raisa who bought coffee. Usually ask for help OB?”

“ Yes Mas, yesterday afternoon titipin same Mbak Dyah, uh know-know the other also nitip. Ordinary Mas, his name is also junior.” Raisa explained.

Classic, Seniority at work, the mind. But a little bit of confusion also considering Raisa herself Higher education, should not be done like this.

Rangga then tailed behind that slender and attractive figure. They lined up in line to use their employees' access cards at some sort of gate like the ones at the stations.

The two join the human queue and enter the elevator to the 12th floor. But the elevator suddenly empty on the 7th floor and there were only two of them, there was a little awkwardness between them, but Rangga was a little reluctant to start a small conversation.

He was silent while his keen smell recognized the distinctive plum scent of Raisa. Eventually the two simply exchanged awkward smiles until the elevator door opened.

“Hayo, Mas Rangga and Mbak Icha this agreement is very late.very romantic anyway,”

Ayu, the Receptionist, seduces them from behind her desk as Rangga and Raisa step out of the elevator together.

“Haduh, this is one of the gossip,” Raisa chirps when both pass the Receptionist's table.

“Mas Rangga late again, look out for the diomelin Bu Mey or Pak Ajo,” said Ayu while tidying up her makeup.

The clock shows the number 08.50, the address must be diomelin again, thought Rangga.

Raisa gave greetings to some people as they entered the large room behind the reception door which was also the main workspace, while Rangga just nodded her head to return the greetings.

The two split up as Raisa turned towards her cubic, while Rangga went around with coffee from table to table according to the name on the glasses.

The office rush on Friday morning has begun.

“Mas Rangga, I ask you to change the electrical plugs on my desk yes,” Pinta one of them, when Rangga delivers coffee. Throwing a spoiled smile.

“Later I ask to Pak Ajo, Mbak.” Rangga said as it passed.

“Don't be long yes Mas, anyway Mas Rangga who install, don't Pak Mis!” yells.

“Basic flirtatious lo,” colleagues next to him were heard commenting, while Rangga just nodded.

Facing small temptations like this also includes daily activities.

Raisa and Rangga do work at the same company but their levels are different.

Although Raisa is much younger than Rangga, Raisa is a young staff accountant with at least S2 education as her background, while Rangga was accepted into the job purely because of the return of Bu Elsa one of the company's bosses.

Rangga is a general employee in the General Affair, the majority of his work is more driving office employees or helping small repairs in the office, but not infrequently any work is done as well.

Usually, the role of Rangga is called by aka palugada aka apa-lu-request-gue-ada, such as delivering coffee early in the morning for example. For Rangga who only gave SMP degree and SMA equivalency, employed alone is grateful.

Rangga was almost finished delivering all the coffee cups to all the owners of the order, especially the last glass is special, because it is on a different floor from Raisa and the others, because it is on a different floor, for those who are no less special.

He chose to use the emergency stairway to reach the 13th floor, a special room for important people in this company. The number 13 itself is increasingly shuddering when employees are called to face here.

A cold aura took a look at her batik uniform as Rangga entered the floor, contrasting with the floor below, the atmosphere of this room was silent.

In addition to rows of sofas and tables to welcome guests in the middle of the room, the rest of the room is practically divided into small spaces as offices with transparent glass doors and walls graded gray as a pattern as well as a pseudo bulkhead.

“Dun, Madun! Bu Dyah has not arrived yet?” ask Rangga to one of the Cleaning Services in the room.

“Eh, Bang Rangga, belom tuh Bang. I just saw Bu Mey with Bu Julie aja from morning,” Madun replied.

“OK deh, safe means.”

“It was napa, Bang?” ask Madun.

“Somewhat, this is I nganter coffee deposit him aja,”

“ Special Deliperi nih Ye,” chirps Madun.

“Kepo lu, dah sono lo continue to rub that pot of slippery champagne,” Rangga leave Madun in the middle of his busy life.

“Rub continue, long time out Jin times bang,”

“Iye, lo it Jinnya,” timpal Rangga. Madun grumbled in the background.

Rangga slowly shifted the glass door that the handle was freezing cold, the owner of the room whose name was listed on the door label was not yet visible figure.

The interior is neatly organized regarding the placement of small sofas and tables for guests, as well as large tables and chairs. The color of the furniture and accessories of the room is also in harmony. Really describe the perfectionism of him who lives here.

There are several photos adorning the Wall, Graduation photos with family and also with their partners. For the latter Rangga hurriedly turned his eyes, it felt suddenly nauseous.

Rangga turned on the AC at 21 centigrade, as is the custom of the owner of the room. Then spray lavender-scented room fragrance which is also the choice of the occupant.

He was stunned to observe a small picture frame lying in the middle of the table, on a pile of files and maps.

A photo of a young girl with beautiful black hair tied in a graduation uniform, if it is estimated from a soft face line photographed, it seems from the graduation moment of her S1. Seemed happy and confident hugging the exemplary graduation plaque he achieved.

Eight years ago, the mind of Rangga who now looks attached to the face framed in his hand.

It had been a dozen years since their meeting. But the beauty and the hue of his love have not changed since Rangga first saw him up close when they were still in white-blue uniforms, marching salutes to the flagpole under the blazing morning sun on a much earlier memory.

The beautiful Rona Sayu was flushed in the blazing sun, and also held the shame of being punished by Teacher BK for the first time in her life. For Rangga who is a late subscription to enter or forget to do a task like that time, that day was precisely the first time he felt happy in the trap by Master BK.

Not every day he received punishment accompanied by exemplary students as well as the prima donna of his generation

Rangga increasingly chuckled amused to see the beautiful girl next to him like he was almost crying when the bell break roared, then flock of students disperse from the class.

He recalled the character Cersei Lanister from his favorite novel, a Queen who was forced to serve her sentence by walking naked down the main street of her working capital under the sway and scorn.

Maybe that was the shame he felt, because for Rangga, spending time punishment until the break with the prima donna of this school was like a request, after successfully collecting seven dragon balls.

Because he did not feel bored for a second to look at the face of the girl, who long returned with a fierce look even though her eye pelup had glazed.

What a beautiful figure offset his name, the name of a princess of the Kingdom of Sunda whose departure was mourned by Prabu Hayam Wuruk from Majapahit and immortalized in the Sunda Song and the Book of Pararaton.

Unfortunately, Rangga and Tuan Puteri must also be separated because of death and tragedy.

I want to feel Rangga linger enjoying every second of memories that he turned back. But a loud cry slammed him hard from daydreaming.

“You did it here, Rangga!”

Rangga. The figure of the sayu in a white-blue uniform is now transformed into a graceful mature woman with expensive makeup and blazer suits. His gaze was cynical as if he caught a thief who was barging into his house.

Not the beautiful Princess Dyah Pithaloka in front of him now, but the incarnation of the figure of Dyah Ayu Pengukur, the heroine of the old play that seemed ready to release her inner energy punch to Rangga.

“Sorry Mom, I'm delivering coffee from Mbak Raisa.” Replied Rangga stuttered in panic. Hunker down.

If he was Rangga Geni from the same silat series, maybe now he has jumped out the window and run away using the science of lightening the body.

So shameful.

“Then, why my photo frame can be in your hand. Sassy you this,” Throw questions after this like a serious indictment for Rangga who still holds the picture frame earlier. Some sort of thing that citizens are judging.

While Rangga was unmoved, the graceful creature moved past the imprinted Rangga towards the back of his desk, shaking off the scent of Eau de Toilette from the Channel which intrigued the senses.

“Sorry Mom. I delivered the coffee earlier, and intended to tidy up the table Bu Dyah,”

“Ngga needs!” he said, momotong argument Rangga. “Let my photos, then please exit.”

Rangga lowered his head and rushed to put the picture frame back. Without a word, then leave the room. It feels like the earth is swallowing roundly its existence now in order to escape the stupidity that he created himself.

He just ignored how many pairs of eyes watching his nanar figure cross the room. He had imagined the nagging of his superiors or even the kindly Miss Elsa gave him a job. He hopes not to be dismissed because of this.

Had he been fired, not only Rangga would have lost his income, but the evening college he took was also threatened to stagnate.

You stupid son of a bitch, Rangga. It's in the heart.

From across the door and the wall of the glass bulkhead, the graceful figure grabbed her warm coffee as her gaze watched Rangga's figure move away in panic. A small smile from her tiny lips.

The figure of a young woman who every second the aura of her existence always arouses the heart of Rangga, as well as young executive men in the capital Jakarta.

Her name is Karenina Dyah Pitaloka, her love is Rangga.