Chapter Text
Chatter continues throughout the entire room and Tamsy looks to the side, unbothered by the idle conversation as a hum of dissatisfaction growls in his heart.
Corvus, thats right, what is his view on all this.
Slowly his boots squeaked through the empty halls, treading his way to the boss. Before he could even knock the door he heard a deep voice roar.
‘’Come in, Tamsy.’’
How often did he visit for his boss to recognize his footsteps? Interesting. (Not really)
The two stared at each other, door locked, and an intense aroma surrounding the two.
Tamsy lets out a small laugh and rubs the back of his neck.
‘’I just wanted to ask you what your current take on the time travel situation was.’’ A neutral smile curves as Corvus raises an eyebrow.
‘’Y'know, your the only one who chooses to catch up with me.’’ Corvus looks at Tamsy.
‘’I appreciate that.’’
Even though you would suspect an ominous conversation between the two the office filled with small, simple, genuine conversation. If you were to see them you would smile, everything felt so lighthearted, giving Corvus a break for once. Maybe Future Zanka has benefitted more people than thought of.
A rustle of sheets could be heard in the squeak of a door hallways away, a light groan accompanying it.
A gray fuzz takes over Zankas vision and a worried voice comes into frame.
‘’Can you see me?’’
Eishia places one finger in front of Zankas face as she slightly lifts the back of his head hoping it can help more with his airway even though his body was already positioned upwards on the bed while he was unconscious.
Zanka nods his head slowly, lifting up his finger to grab onto her finger. A small blush erupts onto her pale cheeks. She lets out a clam cough.
‘’I will get you some water, you stay put now please.’’ He lets go of her finger.
As he heard her shuffling around for water his eyes widened as all his sensory surroundings caught up with him. It stings his ears, clogs his nose, and abuses his throat. He struggles to be able to make a noise of discomfort.
Eishia comes back and sets the glass of water on the stand next to the bed. She notices his struggle and stands there awkwardly.
‘’What you are experiencing.This is mostly mental and not physical.’’ An anxious feeling looms around her.
‘’There’s not much I can do to help.’’ She looks away in embarrassment.
Zanka continues to stare into space as every ounce of his body continues to pour into the medical bed. How could he, his body, berate and control his emotions like this?This wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to show himself like this. It felt wrong.
Eishia continues to stare at the boy with silence, she wasn’t exactly a fan of this. Standing idly by, unable to do anything for her co worker. It was the exact opposite of what she was trained to do. How could she not know what to do? It was her job to care, why not this? Why not this?
No, she has to stop thinking like this. What would she be if she focused on her own worries instead of working on her actual patient.
Zanka was busy trying to not let his body crumble in front of the nurse, his emotional efforts manifested physically as his entire body started to shake with anxiety.
Eishia notices this and she is conflicted. She should be here by his side but its obvious the boy needed to be alone, he can’t hold this all in or his efforts to get better will be stunted. A wave of uncertainty passes her.
‘’If you need help, I’ll be out in the hallway. Not right outside the door, but just in the hallway.’’
With that her light footsteps left the room, leaving Zanka in complete silence.
His body untenses as a thick, scratchy stone texture builds up in his throat. Zanka grips onto his sheets in frustration, teeth gritting as even muscle in his body refuses to give in.
He wishes he was unconscious again.
To be aware that you are weak is the worst feeling, to be aware that you are weak and dwelling that you are weak is even worse, because it proves your own point.
A struggling cough comes out of his throat and the stone texture tries to seep itself out. But he tries so hard not to let it out, he can’t do this, he really doesn’t know how to, doesn’t know how to without feeling guilty, disgusting.
Another struggling cough leaves his body as he looks up at the ceiling, finally a reaction from himself that could prove he could help himself, he thinks.
‘’Please, stop.’’
Oh.
His breathing becomes more thickened, his chest heaves up and down as more coughs try to follow after. He really doesn’t want this to happen , he really doesn’t.
But who is he, as an average Joe, to ignore his human emotions? Isn’t this what he parades himself to be, to be the average person.
It's okay, he’s allowed to do this. He's allowed to feel this way.
He’s not exactly a perfect Nijiku.
He can have this.
A crooked wail leaves his throat as small tears run down his face. Even in his most comforting moment, his body doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction of momentary grief. It was stupid, no this was so fucking stupid.
Was he so worthless that he couldn’t be good at the weakest thing a human could do? He was arrogant for thinking he could do such a thing, to feel like a person would.
His body continues to be frozen as his body struggles to breathe.
Looks like he will be stuck like this.
On the other side of the headquarters two pairs of boots could be heard heading towards the main room where the others were.
The older Zanka stops chatting as he spots the two.
Tamsy and Corvus.
He bites his lips at the sight of them and he feels himself grow more nervous. Corvus notices this.
‘’Oh? Don’t mind me. I just wanted to be here to see you for myself.’’ He chuckles.
‘’Might ask you a few questions myself.’’
Zanka internally prepares himself for a reasonable interrogation later.
He ignores the nervousness forming in the back of his mind and smiles.
A few more unimportant questions come his way as he answers light heartedly.
‘’Do you still match everything?’’
‘’What's your favorite food?’’
‘’What kind of perfume do you use?’’
And then something big, again.
‘’Why is your tattoo so similar to mine? Did ya take inspo form me or something?’’ Enjin points is his index finger, moving it up and down.
Great, if he says he can’t answer that they will try to find out anything. He is so irritated.
‘’Can’t answer that.’’ He looks away from the crowd.
Tomme nods as she notices his behavior and makes note, adding the question in her notes as an unsolved mystery.
Enjin pouts as he wants to tread more but he knows the younger man can’t talk about everything. Gris plants a firm hand onto Enjin's shoulder.
‘’Don’t.’’
Enjin rolled his eyes.
‘’Wasn’t even gonna.’’
After that question he notices that a tension grew in the room, a bad one, he can’t help but feel he's at fault for that. Corvus notices his fidgeting behavior from behind.
‘’Everyone.’’ Corvus stomps on the floor and echoes out. Of course everyone turns to look at him.
‘’Let's celebrate this strange occurrence. We should think of it as a homecoming, a change for Zanka. A hope for what he can accomplish.’’
Multiple yays and yells of happiness were heard from the crowd but there was no reaction from the man of the hour.
Though he has grown that feeling of guilt still hasn’t left but he refuses to dwell on it, to let it control him. He continues his steps forward with the rest of the cleaners.
Tamsy was watching from afar with his continued neutral expression.
Confused. Conflicted.
Tamsy shrugged.
He can’t let something he doesn’t care about have this much power over him.
Yeah.. he totally didn’t care.
The dining room was full of conversation, a new atmosphere created out of the previous tense one.
Follo stares at the older man from afar. He wants to speak to him so bad but he knows no matter what they talk about it’s gonna be so awkward. The very fear of what future Zanka could possibly know is making him nauseous. He doesn’t know what he could say that could impress him.
Impress him? Who is he kidding, why is he getting so corny all of a sudden? He knew he gets so strange around the other boy but he.. No he knows.
Follo has a big fat crush on Zanka. It was undeniable. No matter how many times he tried to convince himself otherwise.
But he hated it at the same time. Of all people he could have a crush on, why does he have a crush on the person he envies the most? What does this even say about his mind? Did he feel he was so inferior to Zanka that he accidentally manifested that meaning he has to serve him in all ways possible.
Wait that sounded more wrong than it needed to sound.
A very red, very obvious tone takes up his entire face. Mind you, he is still staring at the older Zanka.
Riyo bumps his shoulder with hers.
‘’You're not very good at hiding it.’’
‘’Hiding what?’’ He manages to sputter out.
‘’Your not so little Zanka crush, obviously.’’ She shoves another chunk of food into her mouth.
Oh! Oh!
‘’I um…’’ He lifts the collar of his shirt to fan himself. Riyo giggles at the simple action.
Zanka continues to move through the crowd, waving at different groups at the scouts for different treats.
He feels strange.
Well to be fair, his current situation was strange.
But it was so disorientating, to be surrounded by a past knowing that you have control over these circumstances, that you could change how different events should turn out.
Control. To be in control. That was a feeling he wanted to get used to. To not have that feeling of fear, shame, for doing what he knows is right. It would be nice for this feeling to go away.
How was he supposed to help his past self?
He stands there, tray in hand, reflecting. It's ultimately up to him and no one else. How should he start? Was it even time for him to process his emotions?
A drop of a tray echoes throughout the cafeteria.
THe older man sighed, he was lost in thought once again.
Follos head turns back from Riyo and rushes over to the older man without thinking.
‘’Are you okay?’’ Follo grabs onto the older man's hands and a gentle smile lands on Zankas face.
‘’Yes, you don’t have to do this though.. Ha.’’ His finger traces over Follo’s hand. Zanka looks down at his mess and bends down.
‘’You can go back to doing whatever yer were doin.’’ He grabs a napkin from his pocket.
‘’I can do this myself.’’
How funny it was, to have a fear about not being competent, just to fail at such a basic task.
But it wasn’t like that. Zanka is improved now, he’s only like this because he allows himself to process his emotions now. Though it makes him look insufficient at times, he’s more able than he’s ever been.
Follo stands there unable to move away from the interaction. He desperately wants to do anything he does, but he just can’t assert himself. It was rather embarrassing too, to be rejected at the offer of help.
Was his help not good enough? Does the future Zanka know how useless he felt? Was he doing this on purpose?
Follo’s fist tightens as he walks away, leaving the cafeteria as a whole.
This turned more sticky than it needed to be.
Gris notices Follow leave in a rush from Zanka’s direction and takes it into his own hands, to follow Follo. He knew the boy’s habits at this point to not jump to conclusions at the other person involved.
His arms swing back and forth against his sides like a man on a mission, well he was a said man on a mission but he doesn’t feel obligated to go find Follo, he just wants to because he cares for him.
Follo needed help. That poor boy had so many things he didn’t talk about that Gris could sense. He can almost predict how he acts with his anxious behavior, people pleasing tendencies, and that motivation that is directed with rage.
Follo needed a new direction, Gris wants to help with that.
In the hallway he could hear a gargled breath, almost like a choke but when he turned to face that noise it wasn’t coming from an empty space in the hall, it was coming from the medical room.
Zanka.
Eishia was standing across the room with her ears covered, trying her best to give Zanka some privacy. This made Gris feel conflicted.
‘’Eishia, why don’t you get something to eat?’’
‘’I’ll take over, for watching I mean.’’
She hesitates but her stomach lets out a tiny growl. Gris raises his eyebrow with and smile and she scurries away with a blush on her face.
Once she left Gris moved his neck to both sides to make sure she was gone, he walked into the room to see what his noises were about, cracking the door behind him.
He was horrified.
Zanka was sitting up, eyes almost completely white, choking on his own spit and tears. He couldn’t figure out if he was actually choking or if that was the noise of attempting to cry even more, or to even scream.
‘’Zanka?’’ He nervously places one foot ahead the other.
The younger did not move his position at all as his eyes were glued to the ceiling, not wanting to acknowledge any presence that came near him.
At this point Gris was right beside Zanka on the other side of his bed. Staring at the younger boy who presented himself to be in a dire condition.
‘’.....’’
Gris stares at him. Unable to figure out what to do. He wanted to show Zanka comfort but he did not know the other's boundaries or what he preferred.
So what did he do?
He hugged him.
The strange gurgle in his throat stopped forming and more clearer coughs came right after the other. Zanka's shaking came back right as he felt the tight embrace.
He wasn’t used to this, no he wasn’t used to this at all.
His arms weakly lifted themselves from his sides, hovering over the older man's shoulders.
And that's when he felt it, the urge to let himself go.
His mouth lets out small pants as large streams of tears roll down his face, his once wobbly hands tighten onto Gris’s back.
He didn’t like this, he didn’t like this at all. A man who he barely talked to, was seeing him cry. A man who he didn’t know the motives of was seeing him cry. A man. Someone. Someone was seeing him in his most vulnerable state.
He felt so disgusting, so gross, so shameful. Nausea tries to trinkle in him but a warm bubble builds itself into his chest.
He also felt so
Comforted. Was this a possible outcome? No constant guilt? He was able to feel comfort?
Gris runs his calused hands against the younger's hair.
‘’The weaker you feel, the stronger you actually are.’’
Gris hums.
‘’This is a consequence of your own strength, not weakness.’’
‘’You are strong, Zanka.’’
Zanka continues to cry into Gri’s shoulder.
Unknown to them there were eyes peeking through the door, Follo.
Follo originally was gonna ask Eishia if he could see Zanka. So he could feel better about himself about acting so weird towards the other, he’s tired of his resent building up.
Eishia was nowhere to be found, she must have been in the room right?
No.
He was greeted with the image of a crying Zanka in Gri’s arms. Instead of feeling sympathy for Zanka he felt.. Upset.
Follo was upset earlier, Follo was in need earlier, why didn’t Gris come find him? What was this?
A grip tightened onto his heart through his jacket and he stared intently. Maybe if he stares at the situation long enough he’ll begin to understand the situation more logically and not let his emotions get the best of him.
……
No, that in fact didn’t work.
Without trying to make his footsteps a bit less audible he storms off to his room, letting go of the infirmary's handle, making it obvious something pushed the door open.
Gris turns his eyes back to look at the door and he felt something was off. There WAS someone there. Even after all the hustle to not let anyone visit Zanka.
Ah, of course it was Follo. What a perfect coincidence!
Gris doesn’t move from his original position, allowing Zanka to continue to sob into his arms. He didn't say anything, he felt the more words there were between him the more Zanka would try to cling to them, to remember for the rest of his life which was too much pressure.
The blond grows tired, the tears on his eyes become stains and his choked sobs turn into murmurs and grumbles. His body eventually goes limp as Gris sighed in relief, tucking the boy into his bed.
Now it's time to find the mess of what Follo is.
Follo was back in the cafeteria, trying to distract himself from the overwhelming guilt he feels for being so angry at Zanka. He didn’t like this at all, he wishes he could just feel good for him like a normal person. Happy that he was getting the comfort that he needed. But he felt so betrayed. Gris was his person to cry to, his person to rely on, he didn’t want Zanka to interfere with that at all.
At the same time he's aware that Gris is a free person, he is not bound to be Follos comfort, he's not his therapist, he's his friend, a really good friend.
He wants Zanka to be happy, he wants him to feel comforted, he wants him to feel loved. But he can’t get over the fact that Zanka already has everything. He already has that support, he has the entire Team Akuta at his fingers, he has strength, he has admirers, he has that power over people so easily.
It wasn’t fair but Follo knows he shouldn’t feel this way. It was even more complicated because he has a CRUSH on him how much more fucked up can this be?
As another tray with Zanka's celebratory meal fills his mouth he did not give any mind to the people around him, he didn’t want to think right now. The more he thought the more he was belittled by his own consciousness.
No one even tried talking to him either, it was such a unique experience that he was so used to. To be clearly in agony but no one giving him any mind, if only Gris was here he would actually be a person who would go up to him.
Speak of the devil.
A heavy weight tightened on his shoulder. A grunt was heard on his left ear as a new weight was added to the seat next to him.
‘’Do you want to talk about it?’’
Follo continued to swallow his food as more thoughts covered his mind. What was he supposed to say? What he actually felt? Or just another simplification that turned it into a simple conversation that doesn’t really go over what he feels.
‘’I don’t know.’’
That was an honest start.
He stops chewing.
‘’I feel angry but I know I shouldn't be, it's wrong for me to feel this way.’’
Gris nods and lets go of Follos shoulder.
‘’That’s okay, you recognized your own feelings. I’m proud of you for being able to categorize them instead of just thinking in black and white.’’
Follo stays silent, a confused and nauseous feeling builds in the back of his stomach.
He throws up and falls into his vomit head first.
Older Zanka turns his head from across the room because of the loud noise. He sees the younger boy in his own vomit.
Poor baby, he thinks.
Before he could do anything to help the poor boy he notices Gris get a towel along with other cleaning supplies. He knows the older man will take care of him.
Gris was always a sweetheart.