Spoiler Warning
Twilight, the spy, is someone who overthinks everything. Yor, the assassin, is someone who thinks too little. Both of them grew up in a war-torn world, in environments where they could not rely on their parents for protection. The way they make a living involves hiding their true jobs and origins, desperately pretending to be “normal” among all.
At first, I liked this anime because Twilight saved Yor in the very beginning. Yor had been inexplicably ostracized at work, simply because she wasn’t good at reading other people’s minds.Of course, as an assassin, she couldn’t afford to empathize with anyone—if she did, she probably wouldn't survive. By constantly ignoring other people’s feelings or motives and labeling all her targets as “scum who must die,” life became simpler and morality less conflicting. Separating her identity from her job gave her the space to care for herself and her family.
Yet, at a party with her “normal” colleagues on the surface, she was semi-publicly accused of having been a child prostitute to support her family, since the burden have been started from such a young age. Luckily, Twilight appeared in time, handling everything with exceptional emotional intelligence. Just as Yor was considering if she should kill everyone at the party… phew! What a relief!
Twilight’s background was only revealed in the most recent anime season. His high emotional intelligence isn’t because he naturally enjoys such finesse socializing—it’s because he’s constantly calculating. Deep down, he doesn’t like it.
At first, he simply couldn’t communicate sincerely and patiently with the adults around him, as most of them had become irritable due to societal tension. Relying on his ‘direct’ and ‘efficient’ skills of deception was merely a necessary means—a way that seemed ‘right’ at the time to handle the situation, for he had once been a vulnerable child with no resources or other means to achieve any of his wishes.
Turns out in this story, the greatest humor and charm of Twilight, Yor, and Anya—their pretend daughter—comes from their family dynamic: Twilight is always trying to anticipate everything, while Yor and Anya are utterly never predictable. Together, they create a chaotic chemistry that makes the audience pause and reflect: Why must we carry such self-imposed burdens? Are the methods I’m using to sustain my life really the right ones? And what if they aren’t?
So how long can this fragile illusion of peace really last? Why can’t I live honestly, directly, and simply? Have I caused trouble for others? And if so, is it truly my responsibility to bear it? Perhaps others think this way too. Yet we continue to struggle in silence, pointlessly and privately. Because in reality, almost all of us are just small and powerless nobodies in our own nation.
No any ‘insignificant person’ at the bottom of society would ever actively seek to start a war with another nation, and no ordinary person can possibly know all the truths of politics. We all have our weaknesses, even someone like Anya, who can read minds, is still just a child—naïve and immature, like a girl version of the little kid from Crayon Shin-chan.
But does that make her unworthy of love? Does that mean she should be experimented on, blown up, socially shamed, or bullied without the right to fight back—or without her parents, friends, and mentors protecting her during conflicts?
Sometimes, saying things clearly and without ambiguity can hurt some people, but it can also allow others to feel firmly supported. Even if the words aren’t elegant or wise, they can help bring unfortunate incidents of the past to a proper close in one’s heart, allowing a new home to exist—a place where one can rest safely and feel protected again.
Outwardly, we may wish to ignore or reject the trivial or absurd ‘definitions’ others impose on us. Yet we still live under them, interacting with one another according to these ‘definitions,’ for it is necessary to survive in this world. So, I hope that one day the Eastern and Western nations in the story can lay down their hatred and gently unravel all the misunderstandings and necessary lies that have allowed them to survive—so that this small, cherished family may exist in truly lasting peace in the end.
And therefore, those who deliberately create wars and societal divisions—people like Nicolás Maduro, for example—should surely be held accountable for their own actions, no matter what or how or when. Because some forms of justice, even if built on ambiguous foundations from the start, are still legitimate. They do not always require written law to exist; they are allowed—and should be allowed—to exist, simply for the sake of all the small nobodies who are merely hoping not to suffer under extreme poverty and cruel dictatorships anymore.
