Chapter Text
Zanka was raised as nobility with the Nijiku. As an omega he spoke softly, never raised a fuss, and always kept his things orderly.
Growing up in the heart of the Kamuatari District and well educated due to his enrollment to the Academy. Zanka has a sense of decorum that he couldn't help but subtly impose on those closest to him in the Cleaners.
Even when he was told to loosen up (and lord knows he's tried, and was still trying with Riyo by his side) Zanka couldn't help the way he needed to make sure he was presentable and that there was never something for his superiors to be dissatisfied by. It was a little itch at the back of his head, urging him to tidy himself up to keep his appearance respectable, and his surroundings orderly.
His Cleaner's uniform was always folded neatly when not being used, and he never left his room until his hair was combed and his clothes were free of wrinkles.
He made sure to speak quietly and only when spoken to, making a point to never say anything that could be taken as a demand in any way. It made conversations with him short and concise, never going on for more than what was necessary.
(It didn't stop Riyo from talking to him, sometimes even at him when he didn't have anything to add, and Zanka felt a fondness growing in his chest. She made it easy to just exist without feeling like he has to contribute something, made him feel like him just being there was enough to have her satisfied.)
"You don't need to be so formal, you know that right?" Semiu had asked once, and he simply nodded once without saying anything.
He decided to test that.
With cautiousness learned at a young age, Zanka decided to see how far he can take his new freedom. He adjusted his training schedule so that he'd have more down time than he had at the Academy, and that was met with pats on the back and a thumbs up from Enjin. He switched up his diet, putting more adventurous foods on his plate rather than keeping tabs on calories and Riyo took that opportunity to introduce him to sweets.
(People still talk about the sweets frenzy Zanka was in during that particular weekend. He didn't remember much after the first taste of chocolate on his tongue, and by the end of the binge his mouth was uncomfortably sensitive. Riyo had showed him the sour warheads that Zanka "went feral" for, laughing herself sick when Zanka himself stared at the candies like they'd eat him instead.)
But nothing, no amount of sweets or kind gestures or gatherings surrounded by laughter and merriment could erase all those lessons he had to sit through as a child.
'Speak when spoken to and not a moment before. Sit straight, don't fidget, be available to serve.' Serve tea or refreshments, and be ready to go and grab something and return in a timely manner.
He might have been allowed to enroll in the academy, and his combat scores were some of the best anyone's seen in someone so young. "As expected of a Nijiku," and yet, that name didn't stop anyone from expecting typical household things to be done by him specifically.
It was something he told Riyo one night, while they were both sitting in the mess hall after a day of missions and he felt tired enough to slump in the seat next to her. She had told him, with a look on her face that looked like she smelt something nasty, that it was ridiculous for grown men to be waited on hand and foot under a pretense of- what, a sense of superiority due to secondary genders?
At the time Zanka felt scandalized at her words, looking over his shoulder as if expecting his etiquette instructor to appear with a ruler in her hand.
"Listen, we are one hundred percent more lax about stuff like that so you don't gotta worry about it, okay?" She had brushed a hand against his shoulder, smoothening out the fabric. "No one competent and worth their weight around here would expect you to do all of that."
Zanka nearly opened his mouth to argue against her, about hierarchies bringing order (his Father's favourite phrase), but thought better about it when she raised her brow and gave a grunt that sounded like an agreement.
It was easier to believe her once he saw with his own eyes, the way Enjin acted around the pseudo pack that was the Cleaners. He didn't expect to be waited on, never acted as though he was entitled to things just because he was an Alpha. And to see the poor man get bullied into getting his work done by Semiu, an average beta, sorta made Riyo's words click inside his head.
His eyes were opened, and suddenly he didn't need to be a quiet piece of furniture waiting to be used. He didn't need to keep his mouth shut when an idea came to mind, he didn't need to give and give and give until he felt hollowed out.
That scared and excited him in equal measure, and the first time he talked back (in actuality he had simply suggested a different plan on how to take care of a trash beast infestation on the outer edges of a polluted zone) and was actually listened to? Was praised for it even! That was a moment that reset his brain.
Zanka was raised as nobility, but he shook off that title the day he decided to leave with a blond man covered in tattoos and a girl whose red hair gleamed under the kasa she wore.
He still kept his things orderly, but that was because he liked it that way.
He spoke his mind, sometimes raising his voice to get his point across.
And he was fussy about what he got for his room, and he felt comfortable enough to express it.